#Sam Southward

[babylonburningmadiacenter]

ESC. by Sam Southward

https://www.samsouthward.co.uk https://vimeo.com/samsouthward An overworked woman in the midst of an existential crisis realises that she must refocus on what’s important. Written and Directed by Sam Southward Art Direction by Dirk Schuster, Benjamin Simon, Anastasiia Ibragimova Associate Art Director Tim Eiden Music & Sound by Peter Albertz AKA Fonty Music 3D Artists Konstantin Twardzik,…

[sindar-princeling]

'I wonder if they think of us at all,' he said, 'and what is happening to them all away there.' He waved his hand vaguely in the air before him; but he was in fact now facing southwards, as he came back to Shelob's tunnel, not west. Out westward in the world it was drawing to noon upon the fourteenth day of March in the Shire-reckoning, and even now Aragorn was leading the black fleet from Pelargir, and Merry was riding with the Rohirrim down the Stonewain Valley, while in Minas Tirith flames were rising and Pippin watched the madness growing in the eyes of Denethor. Yet amid all their cares and fear the thoughts of their friends turned constantly to Frodo and Sam. They were not forgotten.

this fragment is absolutely beautiful but I love how the newsletter format makes the Aragorn mention sound so out of left field

we don't hear from him for four, five days at this point, we don't know where he is or whether he'll arrive to the battle in time, and suddenly here - in Frodo and Sam's part of the book of all places - we finally get the smallest bit of information. and it's that he's leading a whole ass fleet suddenly?? for some reason???

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 14

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

No Laurent. All signs of recent occupancy had been a handspan away from his own body, suggesting a night spent in close but not transgressive proximity: some kind of self-preservation had apparently prevented Damen from rolling inward during the night; from throwing his arm over Laurent’s torso and drawing them together to make the small tent seem larger than it was. As a result, Damen was in possession of all his limbs, and even had his clothing restored to him. Thank you, Laurent.

The embroidery came later, in the retelling, as the story was told again and again by the men, taking on its own character as it passed over camp. The Prince had ridden out, with only one soldier. Deep in the mountains, he had chased down the rats responsible for these killings. Had ripped them out of their hiding holes and fought them, thirty to one, at least. Had brought them back thrashed, lashed and subdued. That was their Prince for you, a twisty, vicious fiend who you should never, ever cross, unless you wanted your gullet handed to you on a platter. Why, he once rode a horse to death just to beat Torveld of Patras to the mark.

like how this ironic misunderstanding of the events is similar to how damen viewed laurent in book 1 and some of book 2. except now he gets the irony

He looked at Laurent’s tent of silks, the pennants unfurled in the breeze, their starbursts undulating. The distant voices of the men swelled briefly, then dropped away. It would not be like this. It would be a systematic campaign moving southwards towards Ios, building on the support he had from the kyroi factions. He would not be stealing out of camp at night to spin mad plans, to dress in unfamiliar clothes and forge alliances with rogue clans, or to fight alongside pony-riding warriors, capturing bandits improbably in the mountains. It would not be like this again.

:(

‘Keep the prisoners alive, keep the women on side, keep my men from the women,’ said Laurent, as though reciting from a checklist. ‘Come over here and talk geography.’ He came as he was bid, and took a seat opposite Laurent, across the map.

they’re so cute i can’t stand them. “come over here and talk geography” SHUT UP

Laurent did not tend to show any of the usual outward signs of fatigue. The control that he asserted and maintained over the troop was an extension of the control with which he ruled himself. A few tells existed. The words, perhaps.

“the words, perhaps” is such a funny line here. because like yeah no shit, but also how is damen supposed to know when laurent’s words actually reflect his true feelings?

Instinctively, Damen brought his hand up to squeeze Laurent’s shoulder gently—and then stopped. Laurent went very still, as Damen became aware of what he had just done, and that his grip was still on Laurent’s shoulder. He felt the locked muscles like hard wood beneath his hand. ‘Stiff?’ said Damen, casually. ‘A little,’ said Laurent, after a moment in which Damen’s heart knocked twice against the inside of his chest.

one thing i really appreciate about capri is the way that laurent is written, as a character with trauma/baggage who experiences intimacy in a way you wouldn’t expect from the love interest in a romance novel. he doesn’t make anything easy, for himself or for damen. his physical and mental reactions to things are very telling and consistent, and i appreciate pacat’s commitment to honoring that aspect of the character. that way it’s so much more rewarding when we finally see laurent let go of control and experience love that doesn’t hurt him.

i won’t do an official count for “laurent intimacy issues,” since it’s not nearly as clear-cut as “laurent leans,” but if there’s something that strikes this chord with me, i do want to make note of it. just… stuff that i personally appreciate, especially from a love interest in a romance novel, whose whole narrative job—one would expect—is to love the protagonist and have hot sex. but sensitive and traumatized people deserve love and intimacy, too, at their own pace and on their own terms. and laurent has a lot more going on than what damen perceives, or what the romance genre dictates. it’s nice to point out little moments where his issues affect his physical and emotional reactions, because it’s nice to know that those moments 1) exist and 2) don’t make him any less of a romantic lead.

He applied a gentle pressure with his thumbs. He said, ‘You brought me ice, last night.’ ‘This,’ said Laurent, ‘is a little more—’ It was a word of sharp points: ‘—intimate,’ he said, ‘than ice.’ ‘Too intimate?’ Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent’s shoulders. He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses. Laurent did not relax at all, just stood unmoving. And then, at the apsis of his thumbs, a muscle shifted beneath pressure, unlocking a sequence all the way down Laurent’s back. Laurent said, unwillingly, ‘I . . . There.’ ‘Here?’ ‘Yes.’

a lot going on here! made even more complicated by damen’s pov!

damen takes physical intimacy much less seriously than laurent. prior to book 1, he has always enjoyed willing and enthusiastic partners (some of whom were conditioned into that enthusiasm, but we’ll deal with that later), and to him, sex is not a means of abuse or power. prior to book 1, intimacy was never used to disempower damen. laurent, obviously, is very different. pretty much all he knows of intimacy is abuse and disempowerment.

so, being aware of laurent’s trauma and also being fairly perceptive of the signs pointing towards it, i can see here that laurent is fighting a massive battle with himself. because, like, he does want this. but he doesn’t want to want this, because this is something he doesn’t have control over. the fact that he doesn’t throw damen off, and even explicitly asks him to massage a certain spot, is a demonstration of vulnerability that damen doesn't really understand.

which isn't bad or wrong of him, at all! if he did understand more about laurent’s trauma and responses, he’d almost certainly be less confident with initiating intimacy, which is something laurent needs from a partner. it's a lot harder when they're both completely terrified (which damen is, in a different way, but lesser so.) damen is afraid that laurent will bite his head off because he’s a bitch, not because he’s traumatized. and i think that’s a good place for them to be, at this stage of their relationship.

also, the “suicidal impulses” quip is great.

He felt Laurent subtly give himself up to his hands; yet as with a man closing his eyes on the edge of a cliff, it was an act of continuous tension, not surrender.

yeah

‘Like this?’ ‘Yes.’

“he likes that. do it harder.”

Laurent’s head had dropped forward a little. Damen had no idea what he was doing. He was distantly aware that he had had his hands on Laurent’s body once before, and couldn’t believe it, because it felt so impossible now; yet that moment felt connected to this one, even if only in contrast, his current caution against the unguarded way he had let his hands slide down over Laurent’s wet skin.

damen, meanwhile, has recently developed his own intimacy issues/trauma in book 1. these two are a mess

‘Is it so hard to relax?’ said Damen, quietly.

YEAH. IT IS.

‘You only have to walk outside to see what you’ve accomplished. Those men are yours.’ He didn’t pay attention to the signs, the slight stiffening. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, you’ve done more than anyone could—’ ‘That’s enough,’ said Laurent, pushing himself away unexpectedly.

damen he’s not stressed bc of the war stuff, he’s stressed bc another human being is showing him physical affection and he actually wants it to be happening

When Laurent turned to face him, his eyes were dark. His lips were parted uncertainly. He had lifted his hand to his own shoulder, as though chasing a ghost touch there. He did not look exactly relaxed, but the movement did look a little easier. As if realising that, Laurent said, almost awkwardly, ‘Thank you.’ And then, in wry acknowledgement: ‘Getting tied up leaves an impression. I didn’t realise being captured was so uncomfortable.’

ohhhhh my god. oh my god. so fucking real, every line is so fucking real. the relief of no longer being touched, being back in control. the fuckin, phantom touch on the shoulder—an assessment of the massage, yes, but also… whose ghost is it? damen isn’t asking that question, but i am, and it’s sad. and then the awkward thanks, and the immediate snarky comment to follow up. it’s just so real.

‘I promise I’ll never tie you to the back of a horse,’ said Laurent. There was a pause in which Laurent’s mordant gaze was on him. ‘That’s right, I’m still captured,’ said Damen.

says the protagonist of the “captive prince” series

‘Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”’

ohhh this line is juicy. because like, yeah, there’s the melancholy yearning context of the last 10 or so chapters, but before? when they were enemies, when laurent was actively hurting and trying to disempower damen? even then, he never showed laurent submission. and laurent clearly noticed. they make me so crazyyyy

‘If you were a pet, I would have gifted you enough by now to buy out your contract, many times over.’

this is more a flaw in my understanding of the pet system, but is he saying that he’s done damen enough favors that if the favors were monetary he could afford to pay off his contract? that’s my best understanding of the line at this point.

‘I’d still be here,’ said Damen, ‘with you. I told you that I would see this border dispute through to its finish. Do you think I’d go back on my word?’ ‘No,’ said Laurent, almost as if he was realising it for the first time.

they drive me insane. the whole “suffering alone” theme—laurent is realizing that he hasn’t been suffering alone, lately, because damen is intentionally staying by his side. laurent may be great at strategic thinking, but he is so used to being manipulated and abused that he doesn’t even consider that someone could be genuinely devoted to him, as a person.

But I know you don’t like it. I remember how much it maddened you in the palace, to be bound and powerless. I felt yesterday how badly you wanted to hit someone.

another interesting re-contextualization of book 1! although it’s not quite an apology, bc i’m sure laurent was aware of the maddening and was probably like “good. this guy killed my brother”

Damen found he’d moved without realising it, his fingers lifting to touch the bruised edge of Laurent’s jaw. He said, ‘The man who did this to you.’ The words just came out. The warmth of skin under his fingers in that moment took all his attention, before he became aware that Laurent had jerked back and was staring at him, blue eyes huge with pupil. Damen was suddenly aware of how out of control he was—he felt—and called violently on his faculties to try to put a stop to—this. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . know better than that.’

“i know better than that” is an INSANE thing for him to say here, by the way. they’re both so compelled by each other and afraid of each other. the amount of work pacat has put into their arc/characterization so far means that scenes like these can have something going on between every single line. honestly i think there’s more going on here off the page, than there is on it

‘No. Wait. I . . . wait.’ Damen stopped, and turned. Laurent’s gaze was edged with indecipherable emotion, and his jaw was set at a new angle. The silence stretched out for such a long time that the words, when they came, were a shock. ‘What Govart said about my brother and I . . . it wasn’t true.’ ‘I never thought it was,’ said Damen, uneasily. ‘I mean that whatever . . . whatever taint exists in my family, Auguste was free of it.’ ‘Taint?’

fascinated by the possible reasons for laurent to say this, in this moment. he uses it on the page to then say that damen is a good and honorable person like auguste, so that’s the easy answer. but if he was just experiencing some ptsd flashbacks, i wonder if this is also something of a grounding statement for himself. because we know who he’s referring to, when he’s talking about bad people on his family tree. it’s almost like he’s trying to figure out how to frame this situation, more for himself than damen—laurent feels protected and cared for in this moment, and the last time he allowed himself to feel that way after auguste’s death, his uncle had taken advantage. so of course he’s picturing his uncle. but this statement, a reminder to himself that damen is more like auguste than the regent, and auguste would have never done anything with laurent in the way the regent had… augh. laurent your brain.

‘I wanted to tell you that, because you,’ said Laurent, as though he was forcing the words out, ‘You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that, as you deserve at least a fair . . . In Arles, I treated you with malice and cruelty. I will not insult you by attempting to atone for deeds with words, but I would not treat you that way again. I was angry. Angry, that isn’t the word.’ It was bitten off; a jagged silence followed.

this is a laurent apology! no “sorry” necessary. and he’s the closest to telling damen the truth as he’s ever been, but still he stops himself. i wonder if it’s partially out of shame, for how he treated damen. a refusal to make an excuse, because he understands the cruelty of his actions regardless. and of course he has cognitive dissonance to maintain and tactical reasons for keeping the lie going. but still, this is honest.

Then, with a return to his more usual tone, ‘And you don’t need to take watch,’ said Laurent. ‘You sleep prudently.’

of course he can’t just say, like, “sleep well” or “good night.” prudently means carefully, or in good judgment… so like, he’d wake up if something dangerous happened? laurent trusts that? i can’t tell if the statement is an observation or a command. it’s either, “[i want you to] sleep mindfully” or “you sleep mindfully [so you don’t need to stay awake on watch].” hmmm

Damen searched his face, but found nothing in it that he could read, which, he supposed, as he lifted his hands to the laces of his own jacket, was typical.

buddy there is so much subtext going on here it’s okay just get some rest

[todaysbug]

October 18th, 2023

Giant Salmonfly (Pteronarcys californica)

Class: Insecta

Distribution: Western North America, from the coast to the Sierra-Nevada mountains, northward to Alaska and Yukon and southward to Mexico.

Habitat: Nymphs live on the bottom of fast-moving, well-oxygenated rocky rivers. Adults can be found along shoreline vegetation and rocks.

Diet: Detritivores; nymphs feed on organic matter found at the bottom of rivers that have collected in debris dams or behind boulders, such as decaying leaves. Adults eat very little, if at all.

Description: Salmonflies are the largest stonefly species on the west coast, reaching up to three inches in length at their adult stage. To get to this size, nymphs grow through anywhere from twelve to twenty instars over a span of three or four years. They accumulate in large groups at the shoreline just before emergence, before finally crawling onto shore for the final molt. This event is the highlight of the spring fishing season, as mature nymphs and adult salmonflies are often used as fishing bait.

Salmonflies belong to the order Plecoptera, or stoneflies, which are often used as indicators of water quality due to their intolerance of water pollution; their presence is an indicator of excellent water quality! For this reason, the presence of stonefly nymphs is often closely monitered, along with the abundance of other pollution-intolerant orders such as Ephemeroptera and Trichoptera (mayflies and caddisflies, respectively).

(First image by Sam McNally (adult), second by Bob Henricks (nymph))

[420technoblazeit]

ok im back because mapping out the bunker in the sims is actually a really fun idea and i kinda want to try it. im still not sure if i'll stream the process but anyway. i wanna collect my thoughts first so im gonna do that here. @ghost-of-bobby's post had this picture in it, so presumably there are at least 78 rooms in the bunker

now, i stopped watching after the season 13 finale but here's the information i could scrounge up from the wiki and various clips from the show. dean's room is #11, sam's room is #21, jack's room is #22. the room that mary, cas, mick davies, and presumably also kevin have stayed in is #15. and when gabe briefly stayed in the bunker in season thirteen his room was #30. so it is entirely possible that there are 30 bedrooms all in the same hallway. and since sam and jack's rooms are one number away from each other we can't make the argument that the numbering has any skips or patterns. you can see where this gets tricky. anyway presumably the hallway just extends on and on southward

[bluehourskyeli]

He was in a land of darkness where the days of the world seemed forgotten, and where all who entered were forgotten too. 'I wonder if they think of us at all,' he said, 'and what is happening to them all away there.' He waved his hand vaguely in the air before him; but he was in fact now facing southwards, as he came back to Shelob's tunnel, not west. Out westward in the world it was drawing to noon upon the fourteenth day of March in the Shire-reckoning, and even now Aragorn was leading the black fleet from Pelargir, and Merry was riding with the Rohirrim down the Stonewain Valley, while in Minas Tirith flames were rising and Pippin watched the madness growing in the eyes of Denethor. Yet amid all their cares and fear the thoughts of their friends turned constantly to Frodo and Sam. They were not forgotten. But they were far beyond aid, and no thought could yet bring any help to Samwise Hamfast's son; he was utterly alone.

Just. This

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Of Princes and Witches (Rewrite) Chapter 8- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: The Fellowship already begins to crumble when Aragorn and Boromir argue while traveling the Anduin River. Alphine attempts to ease the tension, but then they're attacked by Uruk-hai soldiers.

Word Count: 3.1k

Alphine lifted her chin a bit as a guard of Lothlórien clasped a cape around her neck with an Elven brooch. She bowed her head in thanks, receiving the same gesture in response,  then looked at Lady Galadriel as she began going down the line of the Fellowship, giving a gift to each of them. 

Boromir was given a new sword, Merry and Pippin received appropriately sized swords as well. Legolas was given the Galadhrim bow and for Sam, Elven rope. Next was Gimli, who was given three strands of Galadriel’s hair. Then came Frodo; he got the Phial of Galadriel, and Aragorn received the Elfstone and a sheath for his sword. Finally, she arrived in front of Alphine with a kind smile. 

“Finally, for you, Alphine Barrowes, I present to you these cuffs. They are embedded with a spell that will help you regain energy as you use magic,” the Elf Queen explained as she held out two brown leather cuffs that would likely reach the middle of her forearms. 

“Thank you, My Lady,” she responded gratefully, bowing to the Elf. The woman merely offered her a smile before pressing a hand to the Witch’s cheek. 

“He would be proud of how far you have come,” she added softly. Alphine didn’t need to ask who she was referring to, for she knew Galadriel was talking about Gandalf. She could do little more than nod and smile gratefully as she tried not to let tears well up in her eyes. With the gifts out of the way, the Fellowship allowed the guards to lead them down to the boats that they would ride down the Anduin river, and where they would ultimately leave Lothlórien.

They spent the day traveling the river southward in the three Elven boats Celeborn and Galadriel had kindly given them. Once it began to grow dark the Fellowship decided to dock on the bank and set up camp for the evening. Alphine helped Legolas with finding wood for a fire, then as she waited for Samwise to cook some food for them she noticed Aragorn walk over to Boromir, who had been staring at the river beside them intently. She didn’t think anything of it at first, but then she heard Boromir grow frustrated. 

“You were quick enough to trust the Elves,” the Man said defensively, making her look at him. No one else seemed to hear it, though that was to be expected since her kin were known for their advanced hearing. Legolas apparently heard it as well because he faced the Men just a moment later. Alphine faced him and their eyes immediately met. He was silently asking her if she wanted him to go check on them, but she shook her head. Then she stood up, shooting the Hobbits a small smile when they glanced at her confusedly, before walking over to the Men as Boromir continued. 

“Have you so little faith in your own people?” He questioned desperately. “Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that.” 

Alphine kept a distance as she watched the interaction. At that point Aragorn hadn’t answered Boromir, but stared at him impatiently. And he continued to not answer as he turned away from Boromir, but stopped when the Man grabbed his tunic, turning him to face him. 

“You are afraid,” Boromir exclaimed quietly, shaking his head. “All your life, you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are!” It seemed that Aragorn wasn’t going to answer her again as he readjusted his tunic and turned away. He quickly turned back to Boromir though. 

“I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city,” was all he said before turning away once again. 

“Aragorn,” Alphine scolded, appalled by his words. The Man ignored her as he proceeded to take a seat beside Legolas, who was keeping watch on the forest behind him. She then looked at Boromir, who merely scoffed at Aragorn before walking away from her to sit beside the river bank where the boats were. The Witch sighed softly, then slowly made her way over to him. 

Boromir didn’t say anything as she took a seat beside him on the shore’s gravel. In fact he didn’t even spare her a glance, instead keeping his eyes on the other side of the river. They sat in silence for a minute or two as Alphine thought of how to go about this. After a short while, she finally spoke. 

“This quest has been stressful for all of us,” she started softly, earning a quiet scoff in response. “Of course that doesn’t mean that Aragorn should have responded so childishly, but you must understand where he is coming from. Just like he needs to understand where you’re coming from. It is just like Lady Galadriel said the night we entered Lothlórien: our quest stands upon the edge of a knife. If any of us stray even a little, it will fail. And not just this Fellowship, but to the ruin of all. If you and Aragorn continue to argue on things like this then that is what will happen to us. There needs to be a compromise between you two, even if that means we have to take the long way around.” 

Boromir was silent for the remainder of her speech, his eyes continuing to stay in front of him. After several minutes of silence the Witch heard him sigh, and she looked at him hopefully. She was pleasantly surprised to see a miniscule smile on his face as he turned to look at her. 

“Has anyone told you that you’re wonderful at keeping the peace?” He asked rhetorically, which got a quiet laugh out of her. 

“At least you’re not falling asleep to my voice again,” she joked, making both of them laugh, before standing and dusting herself off. She held out a hand to him, which he took without hesitation and stood up, allowing her to lead him back to camp. 

Once they were with the others her eyes met Legolas’ again. She offered him a small smile and nod when he shot her a questioning glance. She sat beside him while Boromir opted to sit on the other side of Aragorn. The two shared an understanding look, almost as if having a silent conversation with each other and deciding to let it go (at least for tonight). Things went smoothly after that. 

The next morning Alphine sat in a boat with Legolas and Gimli in one of the three boats, which sat in between Boromir’s boat (which contained Merry and Pippin) and Aragorn’s boat (which held Sam and Frodo). The Elf and Dwarf had refused to let her aid in paddling the boat so she’d been biding her time by cloud watching. Eventually she heard Aragorn call Frodo’s name softly. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gasped in amazement at the sight before her. 

Two enormous statues towered above them like three hundred foot pinnacles on either side of the river. They had been gorgeously carved into images of the Gondorian Kings of old, each holding a hand outstretched in a ‘stop’ stance while the other held a sword as a sign that they were there to protect Gondor against enemies. They stood tall, powerful and mighty, much to the awe of the Fellowship. 

“The Argonath…” Aragorn trailed off softly. “Long have I desired to look upon the Kings of old... my kin.” 

Alphine’s jaw dropped as she stared at the fantastic sight. She found herself turning to look at Legolas, though for what she couldn’t say. The Elf had been staring at the statues as well, but his gaze met hers when he felt her eyes on him. They shared yet another smile with each other, one that turned the tips of the Witch’s ears pink as she turned away. She heard him chuckle quietly behind her, followed by Gimli jokingly gagging, which only served to deepen the blush that was spreading to her cheeks. 

The Fellowship remained silent as the current moved them through the narrow gap at the statues’ feet. Only a mile down the river they ended up in a large lake right before a huge waterfall that finally ended the river. They quickly docked their boats and climbed out, ready to settle for the night. 

“We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot…we approach Mordor from the North,” Aragorn instructed, eyes grazing over each member of the Fellowship. They had just docked on the shore of the Anduin River near a large waterfall, having nowhere else to go. Alphine, who’d huddled the Hobbits close together to ensure their comfort and make sure she had an eye on them, merely nodded. After making sure they were okay, she took a seat on one of the many rocks large enough to sit on that were scattered on the shore, then looked at Gimli when he spoke.

“Oh yes,” he interjected gloomily. “Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that it gets even better… a festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see.” Alphine rolled her eyes. 

“That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf,” she responded for Aragorn. The Dwarf looked indignant at her words. 

“Recover my…” he grumbled. The Witch’s eyes fell on Legolas, something she’d gotten into the habit of doing when making a jest at the Dwarf’s expense. She loved watching the Elf’s lips subtly quirk up and his eyes shine when she successfully got under Gimli’s skin. Instead of seeing that this time, she watched as Legolas faced Aragorn with urgency. 

“We should leave now,” he muttered quietly. If Alphine wasn’t paying close attention she wouldn’t even have heard him. 

         “No. Orcs patrol the Eastern shore,” the Man responded in the same tone. “We must wait for the cover of darkness.” 

“It’s not the Eastern shore that worries me,” he spoke, eyes glancing over the Parth Galen forest that stood just a few feet away from the shores. “A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it.” His words worried her, and the knowing look that Aragorn offered in return didn’t help in the slightest. She watched as Merry walked over and dumped a small pile of kindling at Gimli’s feet before looking around. 

“Where’s Frodo?” His question caused a chain reaction in everyone. Within seconds everyone was up and looking around for the Ring Bearer. Everyone noticed the panicked look that flashed in Alphine’s eyes and she looked around, so Aragorn stepped forward and rested a hand on her shoulder. 

“He probably just wandered off to clear his head,” he reassured her gently. “I will go look for him. You stay here with the others.” Though hesitant, the Witch nodded with a small sigh and sat down on one of the many large rocks on the shore. She watched as the Ranger disappeared into the woods, an uneasy feeling sinking into her stomach. Legolas was quick to notice that, and he began walking over to her but suddenly paused. 

“What is it?” Alphine questioned softly. The Elf had no time to say anything before a terrifying sounding war cry broke through the trees. Without warning, a swarm of Uruk-hai  and Orcs surrounded them. In an instant the Fellowship was up. 

“Get to the woods,” Legolas instructed urgently. Of course Alphine’s first priority was the hobbits, so she made sure Sam, Merry and Pippin entered the woods before her. Sam immediately ran off to find Frodo, ignoring Alphine’s cries for him to come back. She knew it was all for naught, however, so she instead focused on the rest of the Hobbits. Unfortunately that didn’t last long as she was suddenly surrounded by a small mass of Orcs ready to kill her where she stood. 

It took her no time at all to take them down with both her magic and her sword, but by the time she managed to get away the Hobbits had practically disappeared. She began running in the last direction she saw them go, but paused momentarily when she heard a horn being blown in the distance. It was the horn of Gondor. Boromir. That kicked her brain into overdrive and she picked up her pace, sprinting to where the noise was coming from. 

A horde of Uruk-hai soldiers were rushing towards Merry and Pippin, only being stopped by Boromir. There were too many for him to handle on his own, so she stepped in, taking down as many as she could as she attempted to reach them. There was little time for talk as they began felling every soldier that came near them. Alphine’s focus was solely on the soldiers right in front of her, so she didn’t have a lot of sight on her surroundings. That meant that she hadn’t noticed the leader of the Uruk-hai taking aim with his bow and arrow from a distance. But Boromir did.

“Alphine!” The Witch was suddenly pushed aside by the Man, but before she could question what he was doing she was shocked to see an arrow suddenly fly into his chest. A gasp left her lips as the man grunted. She began searching for the direction the arrow had come from, but in her panic she just couldn’t find it. Her focus was on Boromir once again as a second arrow landed in his chest. The Man staggered back, but when Alphine moved to help him he held a hand up to stop her. 

“Keep fighting!” He demanded. In her distraction a soldier managed to get close enough to stab his makeshift sword into her side. A pained cry left her lips as she fell in shock, and at the same time the leader shot a third and final arrow, hitting his mark for the third time. The three wounds combined was what finally brought Boromir to his knees. The Uruk-hai used their falls to their advantage and advanced upon them, scooping up the Hobbits in one fell swoop and ran off. 

Alphine attempted to get up, but was quickly knocked down by the mass. They trampled her, which only added to her pain. Faintly she could hear the Hobbits calling her and Boromir’s name, but she could do nothing until the area finally cleared out. She shakily began to get up, but froze when she noticed the Uruk-hai leader standing in front of Boromir, who was still surprisingly on his knees. She watched weakly as the creature aimed his loaded bow straight at the Man’s heart. 

He was suddenly stopped when Aragorn charged at him from behind, smashing the bow with his sword. The two locked in a deadly battle, and Alphine used that time to shakily crawl over to Boromir, who’d finally fallen to the ground. She quickly grabbed him and used what was left of her strength to move him out of the way. After a moment she managed to lean against a nearby tree, carefully tapping his face to wake him up. 

“Come, Boromir, you must stay awake,” she whispered urgently. The man’s eyes barely opened, then they trailed down to Alphine’s wounded side. 

“You’re hurt,” the man gasped out. The Witch shook her head with a weak smile.

“Do not worry about me,” she retorted gently. “You must stay awake.” She continued to keep him awake and tried to stop the bleeding as Aragorn finally finished the Uruk leader off by decapitating him. Once he was sure the leader was dead, he rushed over to Boromir and Alphine. 

“They took the little ones,” Boromir informed him painfully. Aragorn helped her staunch the flow of blood from the Man’s wounds. 

“Boromir, you must stay still,” Alphine reprimanded, though there was no conviction behind her words. Boromir didn’t listen to her as he looked at Aragorn in a panic. 

“Frodo…where is Frodo?” 

“I let Frodo go,” he answered soothingly. Boromir nodded in relief, a sad glint in his eyes. 

“Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him,” he confessed. 

“The Ring is beyond our reach now,” Alphine responded in the same tone as Aragorn, taking his hand. 

“Forgive me,” Boromir muttered, squeezing her hand weakly. “I did not see… I have failed you all.” Immediately they began protesting.

“No, Boromir, you fought bravely. You have kept your honor,” Aragorn retorted softly yet firmly. He began trying to bind the Man’s wound, but he stopped him. 

“Leave it! It is over...the world of Men will fall and all will come to darkness and my city to ruin..Aragorn..” Alphine looked at Aragorn helplessly. He shook his head. 

“I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you... I will not let the White City fall, nor your people fail…” 

“Our people...our people…” Boromir corrected weakly. Alphine noticed his free hand reaching out for something. His sword. She carefully leaned over and placed the sword in his hand, watching his fingers tighten around the hilt. His eyes met hers, and she knew that his time was coming to an end. 

“Do not cry for me,” he whispered upon noticing tears welling up in her eyes, weakly lifting a hand to cradle her face as a form of comfort. “Remember me fondly. You are a wonderful person, Alphine Barrowes.” The girl nodded at him with a small smile and a quiet sniffle. 

“I will. And no one blames you, Boromir. You were amazing,” she whispered, voice cracking in the middle of her sentence. He nodded with what little strength he had and a weak smile before facing Aragorn. 

“I would have followed you, my brother...my captain, my King,” he muttered. Alphine could practically feel the life leaving him as he spoke. And with that, the last light left his eyes and he became limp in the man’s arms. His free hand fell from Alphine’s cheek, landing by his side. Aragorn carefully laid Boromir on the ground, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead afterwards. 

“Be at peace, son of Gondor,” he whispered. Alphine couldn’t find it in herself to say anything, though. Instead she could only stare at the Man that laid before her, a numb sort of feeling drowning her senses.

[a-solitary-sea-rover-backup]

As the fleet leaders finally angle southwards and line up with the breeze looking more established again, Briton Sam Goodchild (VULNERABLE) has gained a useful lead at the front of the Vendée Globe fleet. As the race runs into its second week, some 300 nautical miles NWW of the Cape Verde Islands, Goodchild is nearly 40 miles ahead of Sébastien Simon (Groupe Dubreuil) who is some 65 miles to his east and 70 miles ahead of his racing stable mate Thomas Ruyant who is converging from the west on the newer VULNERABLE.

[quartafeiradecinzas]

ESC. from Sam Southward on Vimeo.

An overworked woman in the midst of an existential crisis realises that she must refocus on what’s important.

Written and Directed by Sam Southward

Art Direction by Dirk Schuster, Benjamin Simon, Anastasiia Ibragimova

Associate Art Director Tim Eiden

Music & Sound by Peter Albertz AKA Fonty Music

3D Artists Konstantin Twardzik, Martin Thul, Anastasiia Ibragimova, Dirk Schuster, Benjamin Simon, Tim Eiden, Anastasia Berezhnaya

3D Animation Martin Thul, Konstantin Twardzik

2D Animation Dirk Schuster, Tim Eiden

Character Design Anastasiia Ibragimova

Storyboard Sam Southward, Tim Eiden

Graphic Design & Illustration Anastasiia Ibragimova, Tim Eiden

Produced by: FOREAL®

weareforeal.com

samsouthward.co.uk

[elemmental]

¿Qué es lo realmente importante en la vida? Esto se pregunta la protagonista de este divertido corto de animación creado para el festival OFFF México.

[thecuriousbrain]

ESC.

An overworked woman in the midst of an existential crisis realises that she must refocus on what’s important. Written and Directed by Sam Southward

[jakedhillon]

ESC. from Sam Southward on Vimeo.

An overworked woman in the midst of an existential crisis realises that she must refocus on what’s important.

Written and Directed by Sam Southward

Art Direction by Dirk Schuster, Benjamin Simon, Anastasiia Ibragimova

Associate Art Director Tim Eiden

Music & Sound by Peter Albertz AKA Fonty Music

3D Artists Konstantin Twardzik, Martin Thul, Anastasiia Ibragimova, Dirk Schuster, Benjamin Simon, Tim Eiden, Anastasia Berezhnaya

3D Animation Martin Thul, Konstantin Twardzik

2D Animation Dirk Schuster, Tim Eiden

Character Design Anastasiia Ibragimova

Storyboard Sam Southward, Tim Eiden

Graphic Design & Illustration Anastasiia Ibragimova, Tim Eiden

[javadolmamalek]

Milka Goodness '60 SSDC from Sam Southward on Vimeo.

Creating Milka's alpine wonderland was an exercise of pure escapism for me. From the early concepts through to the fully realised world, we wanted to achieve a detailed and tactile feel that would exude charm. Immersing viewers in this heartwarming miniature world and leaving them with a truly memorable moment.

[emzeciorrr]

Milka Goodness '60 SSDC from Sam Southward on Vimeo.

Creating Milka's alpine wonderland was an exercise of pure escapism for me. From the early concepts through to the fully realised world, we wanted to achieve a detailed and tactile feel that would exude charm. Immersing viewers in this heartwarming miniature world and leaving them with a truly memorable moment.

[tonin-terets]

ESC. from Sam Southward on Vimeo.

An overworked woman in the midst of an existential crisis realises that she must refocus on what’s important.

[ebaeschnbliah]

They found the stone steps without difficulty, and Gimli sprang swiftly up them, followed by Gandalf and Frodo. When they reached the top they saw that they could go no further that way, and the reason for the drying up of the Gate-stream was revealed. Behind them the sinking Sun filled the cool western sky with glimmering gold. Before them stretched a dark still lake. Neither sky nor sunset was reflected on its sullen surface. The Sirannon had been dammed and had filled all the valley. Beyond the ominous water were reared vast cliffs, their stern faces pallid in the fading light: final and impassable. No sign of gate or entrance, not a fissure or crack could Frodo see in the frowning stone.

`There are the Walls of Moria' ...

... said Gandalf, pointing across the water. `And there the Gate stood once upon a time, the Elven Door at the end of the road from Hollin by which we have come. But this way is blocked. None of the Company, I guess, will wish to swim this gloomy water at the end of the day. It has an unwholesome look.'

`We must find a way round the northern edge,' said Gimli. `The first thing for the Company to do is to climb up by the main path and see where that will lead us. Even if there were no lake, we could not get our baggage-pony up this stair.'

`But in any case we cannot take the poor beast into the Mines,' said Gandalf. `The road under the mountains is a dark road, and there are places narrow and steep which he cannot tread, even if we can.'

`Poor old Bill! ' said Frodo. `I had not thought of that. And poor Sam! I wonder what he will say? '

`I am sorry,' said Gandalf. `Poor Bill has been a useful companion and it goes to my heart to turn him adrift now. I would have travelled lighter and brought no animal, least of all this one that Sam is fond of, if I had had my way. I feared all along that we should be obliged to take this road.'

The day was drawing to its end, and cold stars were glinting in the sky high above the sunset, when the Company, with all the speed they could, climbed up the slopes and reached the side of the lake. In breadth it looked to be no more than two or three furlongs at the widest point. How far it stretched away southward they could not see in the failing light; but its northern end was no more than half a mile from where they stood, and between the stony ridges that enclosed the valley and the water's edge there was a rim of open ground. They hurried forward, for they had still a mile or two to go before they could reach the point on the far shore that Gandalf was making for; and then he had still to find the doors.

When they came to the northernmost corner of the lake they found a narrow creek that barred their way. It was green and stagnant, thrust out like a slimy arm towards the enclosing hills. Gimli strode forward undeterred, and found that the water was shallow, no more than ankle-deep at the edge. Behind him they walked in file, threading their way with care, for under the weedy pools were sliding and greasy stones, and footing was treacherous. Frodo shuddered with disgust at the touch of the dark unclean water on his feet.

As Sam, the last of the Company, led Bill up on to the dry ground on the far side, there came a soft sound: a swish, followed by a plop, as if a fish had disturbed the still surface of the water. Turning quickly they saw ripples, black-edged with shadow in the waning light: great rings were widening outwards from a point far out in the lake. There was a bubbling noise, and then silence. The dusk deepened, and the last gleams of the sunset were veiled in cloud.

Gandalf now pressed on at a great pace, and the others followed as quickly as they could. They reached the strip of dry land between the lake and the cliffs: it was narrow, often hardly a dozen yards across, and encumbered with fallen rock and stones; but they found a way, hugging the cliff, and keeping as far from the dark water as they might. A mile southwards along the shore they came upon holly trees. Stumps and dead boughs were rotting in the shallows, the remains it seemed of old thickets, or of a hedge that had once lined the road across the drowned valley. But close under the cliff there stood, still strong and living, . two tall trees, larger than any trees of holly that Frodo had ever seen or imagined. Their great roots spread from the wall to the water. Under the looming cliffs they had looked like mere bushes, when seen far off from the top of the Stair; but now they towered overhead, stiff, dark, and silent, throwing deep night-shadows about their feet, standing like sentinel pillars at the end of the road.

`Well, here we are at last! ' said Gandalf. 'Here the Elven-way from Hollin ended. Holly was the token of the people of that land, and they planted it here to mark the end of their domain; for the West-door was made chiefly for their use in their traffic with the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, when there was still close friendship at times between folk of different race, even between Dwarves and Elves.'

'It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned,' said Gimli.

'I have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves,' said Legolas.

'I have heard both,' said Gandalf; 'and I will not give judgement now. But I beg you two, Legolas and Gimli, at least to be friends, and to help me. I need you both. The doors are shut and hidden, and the sooner we find them the better. Night is at hand! '

They turned to watch Gandalf. He appeared to have done nothing. He was standing between the two trees gazing at the blank wall of the cliff, as if he would bore a hole into it with his eyes. Gimli was wandering about, tapping the stone here and there with his axe. Legolas was pressed against the rock, as if listening.

'Well, here we are and all ready,' said Merry; `but where are the Doors? I can't see any sign of them.'

'Dwarf-doors are not made to be seen when shut,' said Gimli. `They are invisible, and their own masters cannot find them or open them, if their secret is forgotten.'

'But this Door was not made to be a secret known only to Dwarves,' said Gandalf, coming suddenly to life and turning round. `Unless things are altogether changed, eyes that know what to look for may discover the signs.'

He walked forward to the wall. Right between the shadow of the trees there was a smooth space, and over this he passed his hands to and fro, muttering words under his breath. Then he stepped back.

'Look!' he said. `Can you see anything now?'

The Moon now shone upon the grey face of the rock; but they could see nothing else for a while. Then slowly on the surface, where the wizard's hands had passed, faint lines appeared, like slender veins of silver running in the stone. At first they were no more than pale gossamer-threads, so fine that they only twinkled fitfully where the Moon caught them, but steadily they grew broader and clearer, until their design could be guessed.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, A Journey in the Dark