#Spanish toad took me by surprise

[holdtightposts]

Look at the effort by these VA’s in incorporating an Italian dialect/Mario’s accent.

What bothers me about Chris Pratt as Mario is that there is no effort from his part from what we have seen so far and it’s honestly what all of us expected. It’s just Chris Pratt voicing himself. With that knowledge, I now understand why he was perfect for A Lego Movie. His character is supposed to be the most boring, blandest, not worth a second glance ass character possible and they got that with Chris Pratt.

I mean, he wasn’t technically wrong but what a way to spin it. You know what I thought when I first heard his Mario? How the fuck did he white wash an already white character?

Where’s the accent? If he wasn’t going to do the Italian accent, why not the New York accent from The Super Mario Bros Show?

He is just flattening the media and making it unplaceable american.

UPDATE:

After seeing the new trailer, I now understand why Chris Pratt’s acting works for Illumination’s Mario.

Illumination essentially made their Mario as Andy from Parks and Rec, Peter Quill from GOTG, and as Emmett from A Lego Movie. Illumination’s Mario is literally an accident prone clumsy man child from the looks of the second trailer. A character Chris Pratt has been playing over and over.

Also, now that I’ve heard more of Pratt’s Mario and know what kind of character Illumination’s Mario is supposed to be, I don’t have as big of an issue with it as I did before. That trailer is amazing.

Still upset that they basically rewrote Mario as a clumsy bumpkin.

[synnefo-nefeli]

MORE INDULGENT Head Canons:Apollo, Clay, Klapollo, AA +Disney/Disney Parks

I know I’ve done this subject before but IDC it’s my blog, so here’s more.

Established in others hc: Apollo is a huge Disnerd, and the moment he could afford it, he bought an annual pass to Disneyland. He wined and dined Klavier in Disneyland for Klavier’s first trip/birthday and Klavier became an annual pass-holder the next day.

Apollo and Clay are avid pin-collectors and pin-traders. They have thousands of pins between them.  Clay will actually go up to others in the parks or at Disney Cons and trade with them, Apollo prefers to go into the pin shops or other trading locations and quietly place a pin on the “take one, leave one” pin boards the Cast Members display.

Clay did the Disney Parks program in college; Apollo wanted to but couldn’t due to him wanting to get through undergrad and law-school as fast as humanly and as debt-free as possible.  Apollo, was however, Clay’s +1 for cast member nights and his College Program grad-night.

Despite his Astronaut goals, Clay didn’t work at Space Mountain. Clay was a Skipper on the Jungle Cruise.  He can and will recite the whole spiel and ALL the dad jokes if you let him.  Apollo at this point is sick of this, Klavier, however, is amused.

Klavier didn’t grow up with Disney - his parents were pretty strict and didn’t see the merit of him watching “cartoons” (Klavier, rebelled hard against the “no fun zone” he grew up in)  so all of his memories with Disney-movies and the theme parks- are with Apollo.

Apollo actually held back on showing his Disnerd powers to Klavier, thinking Klavier would find it childish, but then Klavier mentioned that he’d never been, let alone, barely seen the animated features, and Apollo was like “NOPE, WE’RE FIXING THIS”

When watching Coco, Apollo was worried because Klavier got choked up at the scene of Miguel sitting in his little attic/shrine to Ernesto learning how to play by sight. Apollo:  “Oh god, we’re only 10 minutes in, and he’s already crying...” thinking that Klavier wouldn’t like the rest of the movie. Klavier loved it - saying that a lot of moments hit home for him.  

After learning the songs (after playing the OST over and over) He makes Apollo sing the Spanish parts of “Proud Corazón” because Apollo *does* have a nice voice (albeit untrained) and Klavier will use any excuse to get Apollo to speak Spanish. Also upon re-watches, Klavier likes to point out that the animators actually animated the correct chords whenever a guitar is being played.

 Miles won’t go on the Tower of Terror or the Haunted Mansion, due to them involving elevators in someway. However, in Disneyland he *will* got on Guardians of the Galaxy: Mission Breakout (their Tower of Tower)-as it’s a “gantry lift” (and not a ride centering around a haunted death elevator- even though it has the same ride mechanic) and the Haunted Mansion in Disney World, as the “stretching room” isn’t actually an elevator.  Phoenix has learned not to argue.

 Klavier also won’t go on the The Tower of Terror either, when they do go to Florida- which surprised Apollo considering Klavier never misses out on Guardians.”That’s because ‘Mission Break Out’ has a gut soundtrack and is a partybox- not a scary deathtrap”.  While everyone else goes to wait in the 2 hr line for ToT, Miles and Klavier, do go on “The Rocking Roller Coaster”.  Miles does like roller coasters and Klavier is all “ I will suffer through any thrill ride so long as I like the music and Jaaaaasss Aerosmith”.  

When the rest of the group gets out of ToT, they have seven texts from Miles: “Klavier and I are on the rollercoaster”.  They first think that there’s something wrong with Miles’ phone and it sent the text several times.  But no, Miles and Klavier actually went on the rollercoaster 7 times in a row and Miles, updated them each time.  Klavier threw up after the 5th time (”Worth it”) but went back on it.

Apollo and Clay’s favorite ride is Space Mountain, Klavier’s is “The Haunted Mansion”. Miles’ “Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Forbidden Eye”,  Phoenix and Athena’s is Pirates of the Caribbean.  Trucy and Simon cannot leave the park without going on Peter Pan (they will riot).

Klavier is actually deathly afraid of dolls and any ride where the animatronics get *too* close to him.  So while Apollo learned that there will never be another ride with Klavier after the “it’s a small world” incident”, he learned the hard-way how deep Klavier’s fear ran when they got stuck on “Snow White’s Scary Adventure”. Klavier was sure that Simon would give him shit for it, but Simon was like - “I haven’t been on that ride since I was five..Aura took me off that ride in tears.  There is no shame in it- that ride *is* scary”.  So they’ll just go on “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” while Athena and Apollo go on “Snow White”.

Clay and Apollo went on Opening Day to Galaxy’s Edge; they have a TON of memorabilia.

Miles collects’ character autographs

 Apollo refuses to ride in the swinging gondolas on the Fun Wheel with Athena, Trucy and Clay, because they’re assholes who will rock the gondola.  Apollo stays on the ground with Phoenix. 

Klavier’s favorite treat are “Tigger Tails” and Candied Apples 

Given that they live in SoCal and are annual passholders, Klavier and Apollo will have a once-a-month date night at the park. Sometimes they don’t even go on the rides, they just wander around, eat good food and watch the shows and parades.  They enjoy dates when there are Dapper Days, and on Saturday nights there is Swing Dancing at the Royal Faire.

Christmas Season is Klavier’s favorite time of the year for the parks - aside from the food festivals, he will drive down to Anaheim to go in *just* to get a band to pick up a fresh-made candy cane. 

[ye-olde-norrington-stan]

((Another little potc drabble I did a while ago. This takes place the same year Weebee and Lizzy leave England for Port Royal, shortly before they leave. They're taking a holiday in Bath, England, and my OC, Maevie Fielding went along as a companion to Lizzy, and James and my OC Edward Fielding show up. Then a woodle shows up to cause trouble. Have no idea what that is? Read on!!!))

Bath, England

August 10th, 1720.

Maevie Fielding had never seen a place more lovely than Bath. The soft rolling hills, the lush trees, the river curving like a large blue ribbon through the valley. The elegant buildings of honey coloured limestone that stood among the beautiful parks and avenues, where society could stroll, and of course the roman bath for which the city had been named, which waters were said to have curative properties, pillars of stone surrounding the gently steaming, jade coloured waters.

The parks to promenade in were dotted with bandstands, from which music always seemed to be flowing. Down by the river, a broad pavement path followed the curve of the river, and Lizzy's father, Lord Weatherby Swann, had told the girls that it was a favored spot for the height of society to stroll and show off the latest fashions, and of course there were assembly rooms aplenty for socializing.

"And then there's Beau Nash, the master of ceramonies here." Lord Swann had told Lizzy and Maevie upon their arrival. "He meets new arrivals to Bath and judges whether they are fashionable enough to join the select company who have pre-booked tables."

"And you were of course approved when first you came, weren't you, father?" Lizzy grinned.

"You must have been! No one is more fashionable than you, Lord Swann!" Maevie added. There was no doubt in her mind that Lord Swann had been accepted in. She had heard of this Beau Nash before, her brother Edward had once said that their parents had no doubt bribed Master Nash for a place at the tables.

Maevie doubted very much that her mother and father would have been turned away, for they were always dressed in the latest fashions, but the little joke was still amusing all the same.

"Oh of course! Who would turn away a swan for not being fashionable?" Lord Swann chortled.

"Father said Master Nash also matches ladies with appropriate dancing partners at every ball, pays the musicians at such events, brokers marriages, escorts unaccompanied wives, and regulates gambling," Lizzy lifted up her fan and whispered to Maevie from behind it in her lilting little voice, "by restraining compulsive gamblers or warning players against risky games or cardsharps."

The girls were enjoying a picnic by the river, Lord Swann nearby bird watching, though he kept near enough to keep a close eye on his charges. Maevie counted herself very luckily to have been invited on the Swann's holiday, and even more lucky that her parents had allowed her to go. It was a last hurrah before the Swann's left England in a fortnight, bound for Port Royal, Jamaica, where Lord Swann would be Governor Swann.

Maevie envied Lizzy the adventure she would be undertaking, but was excited for her as well, at the same time dreading the day her dearest friend would be leaving.

"Seems not a thing goes on here in which Master Nash is not involved with." Maevie mused.

"I wonder if Port Royal has a master of cereamonies, and if it shall be as lovely there as it is here, if there shall be anything as fun to do?" Lizzy wondered, leaning to rest her head against Maevie's shoulder. "It shall be dreadfully hot there, and no doubt terribly dull without you to sing to me, or tell me stories. I so wish you were coming, Maeves!" Lizzy lamented.

Lord Swann had asked Maevie's parents to allow Maevie to go along as a companion to Lizzy, assuring them he would care for Maevie as if she were his own daughter, but they had merely replied that they would think on it.

"Oh me too, Lizzy! There's a silver lining at least, they are thinking about it, and perhaps if I cannot leave with you, I may be permitted to join you later." Maevie told her friend.

"And if they should say no, I shall send for you in Nassau once we've sent the Spanish running, take guardianship of you, and send you to Port Royal to be with Lizzy!" A familiar voice said from behind them. The girls turned to see Edward Fielding and James Norrington striding towards them.

"Edward! James!" Maevie cried happily as she leapt up and rushed to her brother and his best friend, hugging first Edward and then James, both young men hugging her back tightly. "What a wonderful surprise!!! I didn't know you two would be on leave!"

"We wanted to surprise you!" Edward grinned. "And we've some news. Tell her, Jamie." Edward encouraged, swatting at his taller companion's shoulder.

"It's Lieutenant Fielding and Lieutenant Norrington now." James grinned, swatting Edward back.

"What?! That's wonderful news!" Maevie beamed. "Congratulations, Lieutenants!!" She remarked grandly, hugging them both again.

"How perfectly splendid! Congratulations, Lieutenants." Lizzy remarked as she joined them. "Well deserved promotions."

"Thank you, Miss Swann." Both young men smiled, tipping their hats to the little lady.

"And did you say Nassau??" Maevie asked Edward curiously. "That is where you're off to next?"

"Indeed. And James shall be..." Edward looked to James, raising his brows in a gesture for him to tell the news.

"I shall be off to Port Royal with Governor Swann and Miss Swann, if you'll have me as an escort, of course." He said politely to Lizzy, as if such great matters were hers to control!

"I suppose I shall allow it." Lizzy snickered.

"What's this I hear? Two new Lieutenants?" Came Lord Swann's jovial inquiry, and soon he was clapping both young men upon the back as he joined them. "Well done, well done indeed, to the both of you! And you're to join us in Port Royal, Lieutenant Norrington?"

"Yes, Governor Swann, thank you for your congradulations." James smiled proudly.

"Splendid! We shall be very glad to have you, and Nassau shall be lucky to have you, Lieutenant Fielding! This is cause for celebration! And a toast! Come come!" Weatherby exclaimed as he ushered them all toward the picnic, like a father swan leading his little cygnets.

Maevie was so very proud of Edward and James, and happy for them, but those feelings were twinged with a little sadness and worry, for they would be so very far away, and in danger. She was used to them being away at sea, that was nothing new, but they had never been quite so far before. As for danger, she was used to them being in that as well, for they had seen battle, always made it through, but she couldn't help but worry, for she cared so deeply for them.

A bit of jealousy crept in as well, that Lizzy and James would be going to Port Royal, and Maevie knew not if she would be joining them. What if her mother and father said no? And then said Edward couldn't send for her once things were safer in Nassau? She tried not to dwell over much on her unsettled feelings, focused instead on excitement she felt for those dearest to her.

"However did you two get past Master Nash?" Lizzy remarked cheekily to Edward a little while later, teasing but not unkind as they strolled along the river promenade, James walking aways back with Lord Swann.

"Are you suggesting, Miss Swann, that we are unfashionable?" Edward gasped. "And we got past him by way of diversion, of course. Released some doves and made a run for it."

"No!" Lizzy giggled.

"You're right, we didn't run. We took hold of the doves and flew right over him. Do tell me if you spot him so that I may have adequate time to conceal myself." Edward whispered loudly.

"Oh no! There he is!" Maevie pointed, Lizzy and her laughing as Edward dove behind a tree, the young man peering out cautiously after a few moments.

"Is it safe?" Edward called in a harsh whisper.

"Not at all!" Lizzy called back.

Edward crept comically to the next tree to conceal himself, like a high stepping villian sneaking about in a play. He placed his tricorn upon a stick and leaned it out, only to quickly draw it back, then slowly peered out before diving and rolling to the next tree.

"Master Nash will definitely throw you out if he finds you now! Look at the state of your coat!" Lizzy taunted.

"Positively dreadful!" Maevie agreed.

"Is it really that bad?" Edward asked as he stepped out, brushing himself off.

"Quite bad. You look a dreadful sight. A terrible ragamuffin." Lizzy teased as she twirled her parasol.

"A ragamuffin woodle." Edward replied as he looked around for some branches.

"-What- is a woodle?" Lizzy demanded, stopping the twirl of her parasol.

"Oh dear. Miss Swann, you mean to tell me you do not know what a woodle is? Best tell her, Maeverly." Edward suggested as he inspected different sticks.

"It's a terrible beast with branch like horns that eats parasols." Maevie whispered worriedly to Lizzy.

"No! Such a beast would not dare to come here!" Lizzy gasped back.

"They're very crafty, they can conceal themselves among trees." Maevie told her friend, before she went still and looked around wildly, quite one for theatrics, given the chance. "I think I hear one!"

"Wooooodle! Woodle wooooodle." Finding some sticks to his liking, Edward stuck them in his hat and stalked around a tree, shaking the branches. "WoooOoooooodle!"

"Our only hope is to run!" Lizzy cried, grabbing Maevie's hand and running back to hide behind her father and James.

"Lizzy, Maevie! What on earth??" Lord Swann laughed, twirling to look at them.

"It's a woodle, father!!!" Lizzy cried.

"He wants to eat our parasols!" Maevie exclaimed.

"Honestly, Edward. You're far too old for such things, and you look ridiculous." James chided as Edward drew near with his branch horns, brandishing a stick as well, which he used to slowly poke James in the arm, the taller man pushing it away.

"That is something someone who cannot fight woodles would say." Edward taunted in a croakey toad voice.

"Oooooooooooo!" Maevie and Lizzy exclaimed as they looked to James, their expressions speaking volumes: Are you going take that from a woodle, James Norrington?!

"A challenge if even I heard one!" Weatherby remarked solemly. "Good heavens, whatever shall we do?!" He lamented, indulging the girls and their silly game.

James gave a long suffering sigh and held out a hand. "Your parasol, if you'd be so kind, Miss Fielding."

Maevie handed over her parasol with much ceremony. "Your weapon, sir." She remarked gravely.

"Godspeed, Lieutenant. That looks to be a most crafty beast." Weatherby warned.

"Do not dismay, I can handle this...What was it? Woozle?" James drawled, folding the parasol down.

"Woodle!" Edward snarled comically, advancing with a swipe of his mighty branch blade. James parried, and the battle was on! Long and fierce it was, until the fearsome woodle was defeated with a piece through the heart (under the arm), the terrible creature giving a haunting death rattle before it fell down dead, James emerging the victor.

"Well done! You certainly showed that beast what for!" Weatherby chuckled, giving a little clap.

"Our hero!" Maevie cheered.

"That was certainly exciting! I should like to see a real battle someday!" Lizzy announced.

"Oh Elizabeth, do not say such things! Such games are one thing, but a true battle...Why that is another thing entirely! One you should never wish to see." Weatherby admonished gently.

"Quite right, Govenor Swann. I assure you, Miss Swann, it is nothing you'd want to see." James warned. "Nor something you should see."

Maevie, having had a similar talk from Edward and James before, said nothing and took her parasol from James when he handed it back to her.

"They're right. The stories we tell of the times we've seen battle may seem thrilling, but the thought of you two being near enough to see one...That is not a pleasant thought at all." Edward added to the conversation as James helped him up.

"There now, you see? Put such thoughts out of your mind." Weatherby gave Lizzy a tender look and her shoulder a pat.

"Oh very well." Lizzy sighed, clearly not agreeing with them, but she did not argue on the matter.

Weatherby gave a pleased little nod, before he looked to Edward and James. "You two shall join us for supper, won't you? The more the merrier!"

"Of course, Govenor Swann. Thank you." James inclined his head gratefully.

"I'm not one to turn down a supper invitation, especially one with such fine company. I'd be happy to join you, thank you." Edward smiled.

"Wonderful! You both must come and see the lovely estate we've let. I shall give you a tour, and then perhaps some parlour games?" Weatherby asked hopefully.

"We'd be delighted, Govenor Swann." Edward smiled.

"It sounds a lovely way to spend the afternoon, Govenor Swann." James nodded.

"Quite so! Come along." Weatherby beamed, offering Lizzy his arm and leading the way.

"You heard him, come along woodle and woodle smiter." Maevie grinned, handing Edward her parasol so she could link arms with the both him and James.

"Hah, I got the parasol in the end." Edward smirked, opening it and twirling it over his shoulder.

"Hush, you're supposed to be smited." James shuushed.

"I've recovered. That was subpar smitage." Edward teased.

"*hmmph*That's not even a word." James drawled.

"I'm going to miss you both so much." Maevie sighed, squeezing their arms gently.

"Oh chin up, Maevie. Surely your parents will allow you to accompany the Swann's to Port Royal, and Edward won't be too terribly far away." James comforted.

"I certainly hope so! It is my dearest wish to go. Well, second dearest." Maevie confessed.

"What's the first?" Edward asked innocently, as if he didn't know it was that Maevie wanted to marry James.

"That no harm befalls either of you out there on the seas." Maevie told them. It wasn't a lie, for it certainly was tied with her dearest wish. Eddie didn't argue her answer. "You're always in my prayers."

"As you are in ours." James told her fondly.

"If something horrid were to befall me, would you take care of me, Maeverly? What if I came back with a peg leg and glass eye?" Edward asked with wide eyes, Maevie looking uttetly distraught by the notion.

"Would be a vast improvement to your current visage." James remarked dryly. "And would serve you right for scaring Maevie with such talk."

"Heaven forbid! But of course I would take care of you, Eddie. And you, James, if anything ever happened to you." Maevie promised.

"That's very kind Maevie, but try not to worry about us. There's dangers yes, so do continue saying your prayers for us, but don't dwell overmuch on it." James told her.

"I shall try not to, James." Maevie promised.

"Good good. Have you learnt any new songs since last we saw you?" James asked, steering the conversation to happier things, for which Maevie was grateful.

"A few, yes." Maevie smiled.

"Let's hear one, then!" Edward encouraged, and Maevie happily sang to them as they made their way to the holiday house.

[alexngn]

Why I watch Skam España S2

1. GAYYYYYYYYYYY

Cris and Joana took “intense gay stares” to the next level

2. The struggles are real

From the confusion, the self-doubts, the denials to the way society views and treats the LGBTQ+ community, Skam  España really captured all the feels as real as it can get.

3. The soft moments

We’re talking about how the friends always have each other’s back, how Joana compliment Cris, how Cris blushes at every thought of Joana, and those fucking forehead kisses.

4. The production

It’s the first time I’ve ever watched a show that literally creates their characters’ world on social media and it’s exciting to see them interact both off-screen and on-screen. The show basically writes their own fanfic lol

The soundtrack fits so well.Props to the music director.

I also love Joana’s artworks and i wanna know who’s really behind all of them.

5. RIZHA

First impression: Colored hair YAY

Her acting is great. I love all the lip bites and lip touches.

She’s bi in real life.

And also a singer.

She shares tons of good music on twitter.

She’s funny.

SHE’S GUCCIIIIIIIII

6.  Irene Ferreiro

She 1000% can act.

Her tomato face when she blushes.

“Toad eyes” are the best eyes.

Surprise... She’s bi.

BONUS: Learning Spanish

Guapa = Beautiful/Gorgeous aka Cris

Vale = OK

Perdóname = Forgive me

Mucho = Much/A lot

Thank you for reading my rant

[elizabethemerald]

Jim is Honest AU, Lie 5

Jim Lake Jr lies again and again to his loved ones. What if instead, he told the truth? How would that affect his relationships, and story of Trollhunters? Let’s look at all the major lies and omissions Jim made and let’s turn them on their head. This time Let’s say Jim is Honest.

Strickler struggles with finding some way to turn Jim’s status as the Trollhunter to his advantage. However his conscious wars within him. What good would any advantage be if Gunmar is unleashed upon the world? What if there were a second option?

The final bell had rung for the day. Mr. Strickler sat in his office. They were getting closer and closer to their goal. The biggest obstacle was...Jim Lake. So far Strickler had managed to keep Bular in the dark about exactly how much he knew about the boy Trollhunter. He was starting to get worried that his fellow changelings might be more aware than they let on, but so far if they knew none had made a move against him. 

Strickler was trying to allow Jim to be killed without his direct intervention one way or the other. Jim had come to him, made himself vulnerable in asking for help. The last thing Strickler wanted was to betray that fragile trust. That thought in itself gave the changeling pause. Betrayal was second nature to him, it came to him as easy as breathing. Why should this boy be any different? Why should this boy stay his hand? Was there something in the innocence that made him pause? Or was it the boy’s mother? Dr. Lake certainly had a way about her that intrigued him. 

He looked closely at his pen as he thought. Truly the problem lay in his own selfish nature. What would killing the boy himself do? He could be the greatest of the changelings, which he already was. But to Bular and Gunmar he would be the greatest of their dogs, maybe the last to be killed and eaten, but that fate still only felt like a matter of time. He was sure he could manipulate Jim into opening Killahead Bridge willingly, but again what would that accomplish? Jim would either live the rest of his life as much a slave as the changelings or be the first human killed and eaten by Gunmar. Strickler doubted the Skullcrusher would care what his personal effort had been in convincing the boy. If only there was some way to turn the Trollhunter to his advantage. 

Almost as if his thought has summoned him, there was knock at his office door. Jim stuck his head in. Strickler found a genuine smile crossing his face, one mixed with relief that he wasn’t currently wearing his armor. 

“Mr. Strickler, do you have moment to talk about the chess club?” Jim asked. 

“For you my boy? Always, please come in.”

Strickler watched as Jim came in and sat down, not that surprising but the boy seemed stressed. 

“As glad as I am to see you, and not stuck in your armor, I confess I’m surprised to hear from you today. Karl told me that you had to give your spanish presentation today via Toby’s laptop. He said you were too sick to come in person.”

Strickler took a sip of his tea, that wasn’t all Uhl had said about the strange presentation in the staff lounge over terrible coffee, but Strickler was able to way lay any suspicions with a few small jokes then changed the subject. Jim rubbed his hand on the back of his head. 

“Yeah, I had bad run in with a fergulator, and the effects hadn’t worn off yet.”

Strickler immediately choked on his tea. “A run in with a what?”

“A fergulator. It shrinks stuff down, and apparently takes more than a single night to sleep off the effects.”

What on earth could Blinkous be thinking using a fergulator on a living being? Much less a human boy? It could have killed him, or just kept him pint sized forever. The Janus Order obviously had a few fergulators at their own disposale, but he would never put a changeling in the device. Mostly they used them to shrink large pieces of the Bridge down to sneak across state lines. He carefully wiped the tea he spilled on himself up. 

“I’m glad you’re back to your regular size than. Now was this what you wanted to discuss, or…?”

“Well, Blinky’s been training me on the three rules of being a Trollhunter. And I’m a little concerned.”

Strickler sat forward interested. He couldn’t say he was surprised to find out the trolls had three rules for Trollhunting, especially considering his own three rules for being a changeling. How exactly the Trollhunters were trained would be incredibly useful information. 

“And what are these three rules?” He asked, a calm mask carefully in place. 

“The first one is the easiest!” Jim immediately took on Blinky’s diction, Strickler almost smirked at how  accurate it was. “Rule Number one, Always be afraid.”

“Well that seems to make sense. Fear makes you aware, heightens your senses.” Strickler clicked his pen open then closed. 

“That’s exactly what Blinky said!” Strickler immediately wished he could take his words back, just on the principle of agreeing with Blinkous Galadrigal. 

“Mm. And what is rule number two?”

“See this is the rule that I have a problem with.” Jim hesitated, his hand again rubbing the back of his head. “Rule number two is Always finish the fight.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m supposed to kill my opponent.” Jim hung his head. “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even like killing spiders in my house! I’ve called Toby over to deal with some of them. How am I supposed to kill someone?”

Strickler thought about that. If this were one of his changeling underlings he would say better to get over this feeling soon or they would be replaced. Changelings were assassins as well as spies. His own first kill had been his own human parents, and he had been out of the fetch for less time than Jim had been alive. Not that he really mourned his parents, they were bastards from day one. 

“Like today, I shrunk down yesterday in the fergulator to get a gnome out of a hole, it had stolen my amulet. I managed to capture it alive, and Blinky was insistent that I kill it.” Strickler struggled not to laugh at the idea of a gnome succeeding where changelings had failed for centuries, removing the amulet from the Trollhunter. “Toby hid him in a dollhouse. And it seems like the little guy just wanted a place for his own. He didn’t want to fight us.”

That caught Strickler’s attention. Any troll who had been called to bear the mantle of Trollhunter would have killed the gnome without question. The creatures are notorious pests, rated below spiders and rats to most of troll kind, only slightly above venomous giant toads. But Jim didn’t have any of the biases other trolls had. Could that mean perhaps… Strickler cleared his throat. He had to tread carefully here. 

“I have done a small amount of research on legends surrounding trolls since you brought their existence to my awareness. Are you perhaps familiar with the legends of changelings?”

Jim seemed a little confused by the change in topic, but shook his head. 

“Your trainer, Blinky you said his name was?” A nod of his head. “Has Blinky mentioned changelings at all?” A shake of his head. Walter took a shallow breath. A blank slate. No opinions on changelings. 

“According to legends changelings were the young of trolls, stolen away, then subjected to dark magics. Those magics bound them with a human infant, a familiar. The changeling takes the infant’s place in our world.” Strickler carefully studied Jim’s expression as he talked. The boy had nothing but compassion on his face, none of the disdain or disgust that a troll might have. “The changelings are forced to walk the line between the human and troll worlds. Forever outcast from both because of the magic that was done to them.”

“That’s...awful.” Jim said, his expression downcast. 

“Yes and the legends and stories, though shrouded and changed by time and retelling seem to say that because of this the changelings are forced to serve the same cruel masters that stole them away when they were young. They are never able to be fully part of either society.” Strickler watched as Jim hung his head. “Now Jim you are human, you weren’t raised in the world of trolls. You may not have the same views as they have about things.”

“I presume you spared the life of this gnome you spoke of?” He waited for Jim’s nod, then continued. “And I’m sure you’ve found yourself capable of living along side this gnome, despite Blinky’s feelings on the matter?”

“Well he’s living with Toby not me, but yeah.”

“Troll society seems to be a place where to them finishing a fight makes sense. But if you have the chance to offer a creature a hand up in this world, be they troll or gnome or changeling, perhaps you have the opportunity to change things, to cross lines that have existed for millennia. When you get the chance, will you offer your hand?”

Strickler put out his hand. Jim looked at it, and the changeling could see the boy’s mind racing, before he proudly shook the hand. The simple handshake felt...monumentous. It didn’t last long however. After a mere second Jim’s phone rang. He let go of Strickler’s hand and answered his phone. 

“Uh yeah I’ll be home soon. Bye mom!” Jim was soon saying grabbing his bag. “Thanks so much Mr. Strickler. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

With that the boy ran out the door. Strickler sat back for a second, a smug grin on his face. The seed had been planted. He would need to reach out to some of his compatriots in the Order. Some who shared his views about Bular’s heel grinding down on their necks. Otto maybe? No he was too much of a boot licker. Nomura always had a problem with authority. Maybe he could have her reach out, approach the Trollhunter when he was alone, to extend a hand as it were. 

As Strickler thought and planned, he realized he never did find out what Rule number three was. Too late now, he doubted it would be a problem for him though.

Lie 1, Lie 2, Lie 3, Lie 4

[badass-at-fandoming]

Ya’ll.

ya’ll why am i doing this

A Monastery Holds More Than Bones

Vampire: the Masquerade, Anatole/Beckett

CW: death mention, it’s the 1700s so I personally would like to scream

Chapter 1: Ethos

Night unfurled across the Court of Love, and the Kindred came out. Beckett grumbled.

“Your cuffs are adequate, young one. Stop teasing the lace,” Aristotle said. The low nasal hum of his sire’s voice mollified him somewhat. He gave one last indignant tug and let his clothes be.

Before his first death, Beckett had never been to Versailles, let alone walked the royal grounds. Now the lush gardens and precision hedgerows grew in familiar places. Yet he could not walk it blinded, like Aristotle could. His footfalls scuffed the marble steps down the terrace while his sire glided without a sound. A breeze blew past his nose and their dark cloaks fluttered behind them. Beckett took a deep breath. The enhanced senses had been the first thing he’d become accustomed too, in this unlife. All that information from the wind—the fruit scent of lady’s perfume, the musk of men’s cologne, and the pure smell of roses. Kindred gathered to the northwest of them.

Their footsteps pressed across the dry lawn, and they approached a hedge maze. At the pulsing center would be the blood-addicts, of course. They were dramatic like that.

Aristotle said, “I know you would rather be home and reading our books, but tonight’s Court will interest you. We are to meet Lady Lucita de Aragon and Anatole,” Aristotle said.

“Our fellow ‘memory-seekers,’” Beckett said, trailing behind and noting the fading animal and insect noises. “Nothing would please me more. No, wait. I can think of one thing.” He paused for effect and to glance at Aristotle. The man already had a smile sneaking onto his face. “The next paragraph of that awe-inspiring history of the Salubri.”

The usual serious mien of Aristotle’s face cracked in mischief. “I assure you the book will be there when we return, young one.”

Beckett rolled his eyes. Another breath and the roses’ scent rushed closer. Four turns more, and he entered a garden of blooms and pale statues gleaming under the full moon.

Beckett shook his head to clear it. No, they weren’t statues. They were Kindred to him: the dead. They clustered in close little knots of coterie and uneasy alliance, any rotting smell covered by the overwhelming scent of flowers. The petals were painted darker the further one delved into the garden. The ones at the edge were white as the purest lamb’s wool; the ones at the middle the velvet red of iron-rich blood.

At the center of the garden in the center of the maze was an elaborate twisting gazebo of iron and wood. And without fail, his long red-brown hair artfully tousled and scandalously down, Prince Villon sat on his cushioned throne under the gazebo. Ghouls were positioned on either side to fan him, as if a Kindred could feel heat-sickness at the dead of midnight. Beckett scowled and adjusted his glasses. He did not want the Prince to notice him or have any more comments on the “unique eyes of the Gangrel.”

Thankfully, Aristotle chose to stand far from the gazebo, still only paces away from the entrance. Presumably to ensure these colleagues would spot his face as they entered. Beckett stood a little behind him, next to a bush of white roses. The moon coaxed an almost glowing visage upon them, and such excess of nature settled the Beast. Aristotle labeled Kindred as urban creatures, but Beckett did not find the descriptions accurate.

The Herald of the Court—some toady man Beckett had not bothered yet to remember the name of—cleared his throat, and all eyes instantly took note. The toad stepped in front of the throne. “My Prince, we have guests who wish to pay homage and beg hospitality of you.”

Prince Villon smirked. His leg gave an odd twitch, which might be construed as arranging that his calf was more visible and at its best angle. The satin stocking did look very nice, and Beckett was impressed by the sheer French-ness of the gesture. “What are they named, Herald?”

“A Lady Lucita de Aragon of the Clan Lasombra and Master Anatole of Clan Malkavian.”

“Show them in.”

The Herald hopped to it. He passed Aristotle and went into the hedges to emerge moments later with two Kindred. The woman’s dark coloring and black hair spoke of a Spanish origin, and he received the impression that her dress was in the latest Spanish noble style. While she appeared rather muscular, the man beside her was thin as a collection of sticks with a wild, deep yellow thatch of hair on his head. He wore the black robes of a Benedictine monk—a rarity in Beckett’s Anglican homeland, a sight slightly more common in Catholic France, and absolutely extinct in his unlife until this very moment. Yet this Anatole did not have the title “Brother” before his name. An impersonator?

Lucita and Anatole bowed. “Great Prince, we seek hospitality.” Lucita’s Spanish accent rose determined and clear in the night air. “We crave time with the scholar Aristotle de Laurent.”

The Prince made a show of consideration, stroking his chin. Beckett’s Beast paced in the cage of his ribs. He’d wanted to leave the moment they passed through the palace gate. Now he wanted to leave and quiz this faux-monk.

As if Anatole had heard his thought, the blonde head turned. Deep blue eyes pierced him true, and Beckett couldn’t stop the gasp. A phantom beat of the heart. He stepped backward and deeper in Aristotle’s shadow. Something…this Anatole knew something.

Time blurred. Anatole’s gaze did not find him again, but Beckett turned the memory of the look over and over in his mind, trying to find sense. One could always find logic. He supposed the Prince said something flirtatious, and Lucita demurred.

Beckett turned away, faking like the bright white roses held his attention. He hunched his shoulders so more of his cloak covered him. Perhaps what he was doing was foolish, but it had always worked to get the other Oxford professors to ignore him. He sensed rather than heard the Court breaking for social chatting.

The roses looked the same as the silk of the Prince’s stockings. Beckett touched them with a light finger at the same moment a light finger pressed into his cheek and traced his jaw. A voice breathed like a prayer. “Dr. Matthew Lowell.”

Beckett had been laboring under the impression that everyone who knew that name was dead. He turned sharp on his heel with a sharper word. “I go by Cuthbert Beckett now.”

While Beckett still felt the stray regret for his unlife, gladness flooded him now. He did not blush, though instinct told him this was an appropriate moment. He’d met many beautiful Kindred—besides the Nosferatu, many, many Kindred were beautiful in his experience. But to be so near Anatole, to have that deep, mesmerizing gaze on you…. It was like those surgeons who sliced open eyes and removed cataracts.

“Oh.” Anatole’s face was long and angular, cheekbones delicate and perfect. Emotions flashed on it faster than Beckett could follow. “Forgive me.”

Beckett straightened. “It’s all right. Aristotle said you were Malkavian, and it’s been my understanding that you cannot control your knowledge. Is it that way for you?” Where was Aristotle? Beckett glanced around and found that he had been entirely abandoned for an apparently fascinating conversation with the Lasombra and that Brujah Nicholas.

Anatole made a noise of surprise and dismay. Had Beckett said something wrong? Anatole frowned, and the skin between his eyes crinkled before relaxing again. “You’re not…?” Without warning, Anatole grabbed Beckett’s hand, and his long fingers pressed into the pulse point. Alarm roused his Beast, but in the next moment the huffing anxiousness turned to a purr. Anatole cradled his hand, nuzzled the palm, pressed fingers against his temple. He looked indescribably sorrowful. “You can’t hear me, can you?”

Beckett was nonplussed. “I beg your pardon?”

Anatole shook his head. “You’re not a childe of Malkav, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. Neither brother or father or cousin. God has places us in separate skins.”

“I’m not your brother, no,” Beckett said, and he could not find it within himself to be sorry. His thoughts on Anatole so far tended not in a family fashion. “But we are both Independents and memory-seekers. We can trade information pleasantly enough by voice. It’s a very popular form, I understand. I’m very interested in why you dress like a Catholic monk, for example.”

[logicalalo]

Carmen Sandiego Book summary/info  Part 1 (pages 1-65)

Can be purchased on Amazon for $10 and it’s 206 pages. If you click on “Amazon” you’ll be directed to it’s Amazon page for purchase. 

Book contains additional information not covered in the show.

This is going to be a lengthy post and it’s only half, since I’ll post part 2 tomorrow. Also, these post are sub broken in 3 parts: part 1 is the opening scene, part 2 is flashbacks to VILE and part 3 is the end of the second episode

Part 1: Carmen being chased by Chase Devineaux and getting on the train. Most of it is the same as the show.

Julia is half Chinese and half British

Chase hasn’t eaten or slept cause he wanted to catch Le Femme Rouge

Player is Carmen Sandiego’s “confidante” and “very best friend” though they never have met face-to-face

Gray is described as “gangly, yet handsome, with messy brown hair and broad shoulder”

Part 2: Flashbacks to VILE (all Carmen’s pov)

Carmen would “stomp [her] feet and beg to go to class with the other students,” but instead was homeschool by nannies that never lasted long. Carmen said “you could say there was a revolving door of them”

Carmen didn’t mind because each nanny was from a different part of the world and they would teach her about that country hence her grand knowledge on that subject

Cute: one of the nannies gave her a map and helped Carmen hang in on her room

“Time to skedaddle” when Carmen heard a loud angry shriek from Cookie when Carmen through the water balloon

Coach Brunt is Texan and Carmen said that Coach Brunt would often refer to herself as “Mama Bear”

When Player first makes contact with Carmen, she says “I couldn’t believe a little kid could hack into VILE’s security”

Player has a mom for sure as before he hangs up on Carmen during their first interaction, “Mom’s telling me to take out the trash- gotta go!”

Carmen asks him about Canada such as if he watches hockey, does it snow, and about the northern lights. He response is no, yes, and yes.He even even told Carmen about a dish called poutine

“Lucky! It gets old after a while. And it is freezing!” - Player 

Dr. Saira Bellum is from India

“She had the ability to create anything, from mind-control devices to robots”

Countess Cleo is from Egypt

“She had an eye for the most sophisticated side of crime, like art forgeries and jewelry thefts”

Gunnar Maelstrom is from Scandinavia

“He was always playing mind tricks with his students...if felt like there was something dark about him lurking just below the surface”

Shadowsan is from Japan

“He made it clear that he thought I didn’t belong here- that the island was no place for a child”

Apparently there is a rule where they cannot tell each other of their past?

“It took only minutes for the rule forbidding us from telling one another about out past to go out the window” followed by Graham telling Carmen about how he worked as a junior electrician

When Graham tells Carmen he is from Australia he is taken aback by her excitement as she asked “ Have you held a koala? Do you play rugby? Have you seen any great white sharks?” and he says “I’ll uhh…. Get back to you on that” while he shares how he decided to become a thief as he saw how he could make a living stealing from wealthy opera-goers

Jean-Paul is from France

“I decided to apply my passion for rock climbing to high-rise heists”

Antonio is from Spain (?) all mention is that he has a Spanish accent

“There is no bank vault that I can’t burrow into from below”

Sheena is from America

“ I have a thing for the bling”

Carmen suggested Gray as a nickname for Graham because she said that Graham wasn’t cool

“Gray, huh? That’s not bad.” He cast a sly look down at me. “But nothing’s better than Lambkins.”

“Black and Gray. That’s too cute,” [Sheena] said with a smirk. She had pushed Carmen prior to telling her that. 

During Shadowsan’s class they were making stuff from origami.

Carmen made a unicorn and Gray joked it was a rhinoceros. 

Gray tried to make a kangaroo, but “his origami looked like a piece of paper that had been spat out of a lawn mower.” 

Jean-Paul’s goat looked like a toad

Antonio ended up crumpling his mole up due to frustration

Gray and Carmen, Jean-Paul and Antonio, and Sheena and Mimebomb were partners

Carmen notices that Sheena was hitting Mimebomb too hard, so she goes over to intervene. While trying to help Mimebomb up, Sheena tried to swing at Carmen, but Carmen was faster and caught it. 

During class with Dr. Bellum, Gray was amazed by the rod noticing Carmen ask “You like it?” to which he responds that he loves it.

“I’ll steal it for you later,” I promised with a wink - Carmen

Book only scene: Gray and Carmen were playing chess when Jean-Paul burst in announcing that he can’t find Antonio

“It is Antonio! He is missing!”

Turns out he wasn’t missing, but digging a tunnel underneath the entire Island for extra credit from Professor Maelstrom

Extra credit was that he never gets to be selected as volunteer

Book only scene: Gray quickly became Dr.Bellum’s favorite student as he spent all his free afternoons in her classroom helping com up with other ways to use electricity for heist and helping improve Dr.Bellum’s devices

Carmen walks in on something Gray was working in that is a fake laser grid that tricks security.

“No bad, Gray. You know for an electrician,” I teased, but I was impressed.

“Well, as long as the great Lambkins approves, I’ll take that as a positive result.”

Book only scene: In Shadowsan’s class he had a new surprise challenge; find diamond(s) inside a jar of rice. Carmen and Sheena were picked. Sheena got 1 while Carmen got 7. However, Shadowsan didn’t congratulate Carmen saying there was 12 and she only got 7.

Book only scene: One time Carmen was hiding to call Player in the hedges. Antonio saw her and she lied that she was just smelling the roses. He believed her and told her to “become one with the Earth” she had to dig and shared with her pointers on how

Book only scene (?): Carmen has been asking Player if he has any luck finding her location to which he hasn’t. 

“Like I said, I’m homeschooled. I wouldn’t really know what’s crazy”

[edgarfknramirez]

charles yaxley - 41 - grindelwald era - man of leisure pleasure - edgar ramirez

( tw: suicide, alcoholism )

the man you should never take home to your parents. charlie yaxley is a hot mess. the second son of the prominent constantine yaxley and his venezuelan born wife, charlie never expected to be anything but the half forgotten spare in his family. all the family expectation and promise was lain upon the shoulders of his older brother, christopher; the charming, intelligent and kind heir of the yaxley family. but the yaxley dream all came tumbling down when christopher killed himself at the age of 22, and suddenly, all the family’s expectations were dumped on charles. but even then, at the tender age of 18, charles had acquired quite a reputation for himself.

charlie is anything but a respectable pureblood male. he may have been sorted into slytherin, but charlie was always something of a rogue, even in school. by the time he unexpectedly became his family’s heir, charlie was already known to be a casanova with unusual tastes and a love of strong liquor. most expected him to settle down with his new responsibilities, but in fact, charlie did the opposite.

he is a figure of scandal and the subject of much gossip. he is known to have had relations with goblins, veelas, werewolves and various other creatures and half-breeds. his love of drink has now developed into full blown alcoholism, but he is somewhat infamous for his brash wit and cutting sense of humour. yet, after over two decades of familial humiliation, his parents decided to hitch him up with a much younger and still virginal pureblood witch. the marriage was arranged, and the unlikely couple wed, and after ten months of married life, charlie has actually found himself falling in love with his young wife...

quick facts: charlie is an extremely skilled linguist, being able to speak fluent spanish, french, german, goblin, troll, merish, and giantish. he has an extensive knowledge of goblin culture and history. his mother usually refers to him as carlos. if you’re from the marauders era, there’s a good chance charlie has slept with your mother.

henrietta ‘hetty’ slughorn - 36 - marauders era - healer - alison sudol

if sugar plums and candy canes had a human form, they would be hetty slughorn. hetty is rather like a less ambitious version of her uncle horace; sweet natured, kind but also a little ditzy. hetty was the middle daughter of a younger branch of the slughorn family. her father was horace slughorn’s brother, and hetty’s childhood was something of a quiet, retiring sort until the age of six when hetty was struck down with a case of dragon pox.

hetty spent a whole year shut away in her bedroom, almost succumbing to the disease at one point, and she would have done if it weren’t for her uncle’s potion skills. it took her a long time to recuperate, and during her convalescence, hetty became a voracious reader, particularly of books to do with potions. it became something of a tradition for hetty to send her uncle letters at least twice a week, picking his brains about numerous potions and draughts she had read. she grew closer to her uncle than she ever had been with her father, but when hetty entered hogwarts, it was hufflepuff and not slytherin who welcomed her with open arms, much to everyone’s surprise.

she would go on to become the most skilled potioneer in her year, and it was this love of potions which lead her to pursue a career as a healer. hetty is extremely passionate about her work, to the point that she doesn’t have much of a social life. she is an extremely caring and lovable person, but most people will only see her in her work guise; the private hetty is something of an enigma, waiting to be discovered.

quick facts: hetty is extremely self conscious about the dragon pox scars she bares on her stomach; very few people have seen her midriff and she intends to keep it that way. she has a pet natterjack toad called albert. 

if you fancy plotting with either of my babes add me on discord: joyce byers#3947

[thecorteztwins]

✍️ Anne Marie and Charles

Xavier had neverbeen looked at like this by someone. Like he was a predator, and she was waitingfor him to attack…but not afraid herself. No, the woman in white scrubs  behind the transparent walls was tactically regardinghim, watching him, readying to react, to engage.Good, he wanted toengage.That was why he was here.“Why do you not trust yourself, Anne Marie?” he asked, “Youhave a moral compass. You wish to follow it. Yet you make your sense of right and wrongbeholden utterly to another.”Anne Marie did not answer him. That was her own tactic, one Xavier found very unusual. In his own experiences with so-called supervillains, many were eager to explain themselves. Sometimes it was simply ego, the love of their own voices and getting to extoll their brilliant plans to what they considered a less mind, but just as often, it was a need to be heard, to be understood, as everyone had. In some cases, it was this need that had made them ‘villains’ in the first place.Anne Marie, by contrast, had proved difficult to…’break’ was not the word he wished to use, but she was clearly determined not to say anything to him, and it had thus far been very difficult in finding any sort of question that could prompt her into it despite this resolve.He was beginning to suspect that she believed he was trying to manipulate her, and felt that the best way to avoid that was to simply not engage, to not give him the chance. Again, different from a great many foes he had faced, who had seen it as an opportunity to best him at what he supposed, for better or worse, his own game. By contrast, Anne Marie apparently did not, if this was the case, believe that she could beat him. Not at this, anyway.Or he might be overthinking all this. It could simply because she didn’t like him.But like him or not, he was going to keep trying.

“Iknow what it is like to feel the burden of control, of the ability to control so much, and so easily,” he continued, ”I wished verymuch growing up that there was someone to tell me what to do. Whenother young men were rebelling, I was longing for any kind ofauthority who could show me right from wrong.”He’d had authoritygrowing up. But it had not been good. Though he supposed, in his own way, Kurt Marko had shown him right from wrong, by so much demonstration of the latter.“Such a distinction is more difficult the older we get, for anyone. But it is even harder for people like us, for psychics. Because we have so many more options than most, and we are given them so earlier.”Perhapswhy she fell so hard into black and white. It was easier than trying to the endless shades of gray. He knew that from personal experience. And yet, if he had not tried to do that, thenhe might be like the very woman he was trying to guide out of thatmindset now.The woman did not answer him. She in fact began to apparently ignore him, no longer staring at him with intense and expectant watchfulness but occupying herself with some smudge on the transparent wall catty-corner to him.He tried another approach.“If you must put your faith in someone, may I askwhy Magneto? I have seen him attract followers through charisma andcoercion alike. But he never met you before, did he? What guided youto him?”Anne Marie did not seem a victim of Erik’s abuse like Toad, nor a schemer like Fabian hoping for apiece of the power. She was far more akin to Exodus, especially inthe religious regard.Charles had been raised nominally Catholic,but he suddenly found himself wishing his upbringing had been moredevout, there might be some cultural aspect to her mindset he wasmissing here. “Will you at least answer me as to why you’re notanswering me?” he finally implored when the silence persisted and she had settled into sitting crosslegged in a corner with her back to him.He could read her mind. But he didn’t want to. Notbecause it wouldn’t be right—he felt it would be, if it would helpwith progress—and not because he couldn’t—he had the power—butbecause her shields, while not sufficient to deny him entry, made‘sneaking’ impossible. She might not be able to keep him out, but shewould know he was there. And that would not make her any moreinclined to trust him.“Coming back to previous points, believe me,I can understand his argument,” Charles said, now offering her information about himself and his own beliefs, rather than interrogating her. Perhaps she would be more inclined to share if he gave her what he asked for her. “In fact, I agree with some aspects. Weshould use our powers to better the lives our fellows. But I believethat should be ALL of us. Human and mutant coexistence is possible,and the more desirable option.”“That’s what we want!” she snapped, suddenly on her feet, facing him, fists clenched. He didn’t think he’d even seen her move. Thought was a fast thing, after all.

“Whydo you keep saying—”And then she stopped.Charles surprised. Not just that she had replied, nor just at the speed and anger with which she’d delivered it, but her claims to have the same ideals. He and Magneto did have similar ideals in many ways, yes, but Erik had neverbelieved that what Charles had just posited was possible. That was why he did what he did, why atworst he had threatened to wipe out the human race—though Charlesbelieved that he would not truly do it, certainly not while in his right mind—and at best desired a benevolentdictatorship in which mutants dominant.He steepled his fingers and leaned forward, displaying polite but sincere innocent interest in his voice.“What do you mean, Anne Marie? Have I been mistaken all this time in what Magnetobelieves?”If she thought he was merely mistaken—she had no wayof knowing all the talks he and Erik had had, he doubted Erik hadrelayed such a thing to her—then might think she could win him to her side over bycorrecting him. Thus, she would explain her beliefs to him, and that would begin a conversation.“If I’ve thoughtwrongly of you, of Magneto, I would like to know. I would hate for usto have been fighting over something we did not in fact disagreeon.”Anne Marie looked distrustful, but also like she was weighing it despite herself. To Xavier’s thrill, she began to speak.“There can be a better world. No suffering, no evil, where humans don’t hurt mutants—or each other. Lord Magneto can bring that about by leading mutants to their destiny, their intended purpose, as the new inheritors of the Earth. We can be shepherds, if they’ll let us. If they let us in charge, if we can make them, however it is we get there—I know they think, maybe we’ll hurt them, like they hurt each other. But we won’t. We’re better. We’re going to be better. But that can’t happen if we’re not the ones in the control. And that has to be fought for.”Ah, so it was the same thing that Magneto desired at his best; mutants in charge, and humans their subordinates. Simply because it was out of good intentions—and good intentions that included the well-being of humans, no less, something he had not expected from her—did not make it a less dangerous idea. As a disabled man, Charles could see the danger in particular of one group deeming another unable and unfit to make their own choices, and to appoint themselves custodians over them.He wanted to ask her more, to ask her why the focus on Magneto, what made him so special and necessary to this end more than any other powerful mutant, but he didn’t get a chance, for she burst out“I want the hurting to stop!”The hurting? Was she inpain? She sounded as though she was when she said this, and she had begun lapsing into Spanish as she went on, clawing at her arms unconsciously as she held herself, flinching away from something he could not see…something he could not see, but was all too familiar with himself.“They hurt each other! It’s all they do! It’s all they everdo! They hurt one another, and then they hurt mutants! It never ends,everything bad keeps happening, they do it over and over and over,and if I have to hurt the bad ones to make sure it all ends, I’ll doit, they SHOULD be hurt for trying to stop this, for not wanting thepain to end! Why can’t they understand, I want to help them, we allwant to help them, Magneto will help us all!”Yes, she was in pain. But not for herself. For others. For the suffering sheunderstood to be in the world. Xavier had  believed her insensitive tothe suffering of others, callous to it, a common ailment among psychics. When you were exposed so constantly to something, you built an immunity to it. And yet, right now, she seemed the reverse. But, it need not be one or the other. He knew that too from what he had seen in other psychics…and, sometimes, in himself. She believed herself cutting off a diseased limb to save a healthybody; her care for the healthy body was the compassion that he saw now, but her desire to remove the limb, despite the fact that it was not a limb but living people, was the callousness. Evil begins when you begin to treat people as things.A student who was a fan of fantasy had quoted that at Charles once. He was inclined to agree. Though he knew that in doing so, he damned himself too. Speaking of that…“And,” he said softly, calmly, resisting the urge to try to offer comfort, too sure it would alarm her back into suspicious silence, “What do you believe I’m trying to do?”It took her a moment through tears, but she got it out. That was easier here. Her English was better here too. Or his Spanish, perhaps. With the automatic translation program running, he realized he didn’t really know.“You don’t want us to do that. You want them to be able to keep hurting us. That’s why you try to stop Magneto, with your lies and your claims of peace and your brainwashed X-children.”Not a new accusation. Not from her, not from anyone. Rather than arguing, he asked another question,“Why?Why would I do that? Why would I want that?”“I don’t know!” she screamed, “You’reevil! You’re bad!”Ah, there it was. Despite knowing she thought this, he was rathersurprised at the blunt simplicity of it, No one had ever put it likethat before, said it so plainly. Usually they wrapped it up more complicated wording. But, it made sense from Anne Marie, from what he had seen and sensed of her black and whiteviewpoint. Evil needs no explanation in that paradigm, and it becomeseasier to cope with, easier to fight, because the answer is simply towipe it out. Charles knew that. Charles knew better. He had seen too many minds of bigotsand abusers that were so much more complex in their motivations andreasonings than their actions, and their emotions, would suggest. Indeed, he himself was guilty of so, so much with nothing butgood intentions. In a strange way, he found himself almost longing on some level  for theworldview she was locked in, even as he saw what it wrought. Because if he could let himself think like her, then allthe struggles and conundrums and sleepless nights full of secondthoughts come too late…all that would be done, would be gone. He could finally beconfident that he was always doing the right thing.Had she evergone through this, what he felt now? Had she been so lost in ambiguity that she haddriven to the opposite extreme by it? If so…was she happier? Charles had started this session by saying  that she didn’t trust herself, but now he envied her forexactly that, for her trust and confidence an unshakeable faith, forher holy hubris, for her unconditional–Andthen a wave of motion swept through her whole body, like a horserearing, moving in a way that should not be possible for a human,sweeping up her spine and out of her arms and then into the wholeroom, the whole room bucking and twisting and swirling, becomingnothing but color—a vague dusty reddish  pink that swirled out froma center point—and then color became feeling, war now or neverbanal eden red show me the way to get back to the garden show me thethings I’ve been wishing I’m fading falling star all fire anddefiance and brilliant brilliant light star of wonder star of hope beour defense against the wicked–And he was thrown out.In the real world, Charles blinked, regaining his bearings.“I did notexpect her to do that,” he said, despite knowing his companion had no way of knowing what he referred to.“Did she become aware?,” Erik asked, the companion in question.They were in a reproduction of the Virtual Reality Rehabilitation Room from Utopia, where the being known as “Danger” had been warden to captive enemies of the X-Men such as Donald Pierce and Sebastian Shaw. There, using the virtual reality technology once used to train the X-Men when she had been a room rather than a robot, she kept these men—by coincedence, it had all been men at the time—in a constant virtual world, which they believed to be the real thing, so that she could study them…and, through that, hopefully help them.Utopia was no more, but Danger’s idea lived on. Lying on one of the chairs in the room, the Cerebro-like helmet on her head obscuring her closed eyes, lay Anne Marie in the flesh, seemingly comatose. “No, I don’t thinkso,” said Xavier, looking at her, “But emotions are as much products as the brain as thought, andthought is what this technology is designed to simulate and controland influence. It sends signals to the brain to produce the perception that the subject is in whatever environment, with whatever things happening around them…but a psychic subject can send signals back, and they can alter the world just as much sometimes. It’s something Forge and Jeffries are working out. Danger says we had similar problems with Empath.”He paused, regarding the unconscious woman again, and said, rather distantly, looking at her and not Erik,“You know, she makes me wonder about myself. What I would havebeen if I had been like her, an empath rather than a full telepath.Able to feel the sensations of others, but not the thoughts to givethem context, explanation, to see the reasons why people felt as they did. I wonder if I would not have been morelike she is.”Erik stared at him in utter bafflement. Charles wasamong the most intelligent men he had ever met, cunning andcompassionate in equal measure, his true equal and more. AnneMarie, on the other hand, was at best a mentally ill child, perhapsmentally incompetent even, who had latched on to him as savior likeso many other weakminded scavengers looking for someone else to thinkfor them, deserving of care but not respect, who he pitied and wishedto help…at worst, a deranged lunatic who needed to be containedwhere she could do the least harm, and whom he had nothing butdisgusted contempt for in her thoughtless fanaticism done in his namebecause couldn’t even at least claim her own actions. But no matterwhich way he was currently thinking of her, the idea she could everhave anything in common with Charles, or that Charles could ever be anything like her, no matter what thecircumstances, was…incomprehensible. Erik chalked it up toCharles’s neverending kindness and need to see the best in people; he had witnessed no shortage of that, and been the recipient of most of it. After all, asmuch as mutant power was important to one’s identity, surely it couldnot shape anyone so much as that.

[vexley]

Just Things About Riverdale, Chapter Ten: The Lost Weekend

Well, here we fucking go.

Oh god.

“I barely acknowledge my own birthday.”

Same, dude. Same.

Gasp.

We’re finally talking about Archie “mysterious” mother.

Official divorce. Damn. What went down, seriously?

Two years, holy shit.

Ah, Fred is leaving. The whole scene-jumping sequences involving dumb high-schoolers  partying is starting to make sense, unfortunately.

“Friendervention.” I don’t know why I’m laughing, but I’m laughing.

Archie & Betty?

“Three musketeers!” Aw.

Aw.

“I thought maybe I’d surprise him.”

Yeah, that sounds like a bad idea.

“I think the best gift that I could give to Jughead would be to stay away.”

I hurt in places that don’t exist.

Hostile eye-contact with the Pussy Cats.

I hope they fuck Archie UP.

Sorry, it’s been a long day, I’m feeling a little hostile.

“Jughead’s never had a Birthday party!”

Archie’s head-nod.

Jughead and Betty clearly weren’t super close before the start of the school year, if she’s had no idea about that. How do you not know something like that about a friend?

Am I actually, like, sort of--maybe--classifying Archie as the Better Friend during this episode?

I’m not sure how to deal with this?

“A low-key surprise party!”

Archie’s anxious head shake.

DANGER WILL ROBINSON. DANGER.

“NO.”

“Jughead doesn’t like his birthday!”

Okay, guys, fine.

Jughead&Archie.

“Jughead is a lone wolf.” He fucking sounds like he’s quoting Jughead.

What part of “Don’t turn around” do they not understand???

“Not that I care because he’s evil incarnate.”

“You don’t have to go Dark Betty on me.”

Betty has so many fucking rage issues, and I find it alarmingly relatable.

I really want her to punch him in his smug little FACE.

“But I can damn well make sure my boyfriend has the best Birthday of his life.”

I’m having flashbacks to that stupid fucking baby shower.

“Screw it, I’m with Betty.”

Archie.

I was fucking rooting for you, man.

“It’s going to be epic.”

It’s going to be catastrophic, calling it now.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you.”

Are you sure? Because it looks to me like you meant to ambush him.

“You’re really falling for this Jones boy, aren’t you?”

I really just love the fact that there’s no judgement. Alice is straight up supporting her daughter; it’s such a violent turn-around from the Alice we knew Before.

Excuse me for a moment, I just need to go into another room and spend 5 to 10 minutes squealing over the fact that Jughead apparently comes with his own sound-effects.

This episode is uncomfortably relatable.

75 years? Holy shit.

This whole HBIC face-off just feels really...superfluous?

Also, I’m really disappointed that Cheryl and Veronica’s friendship just went up in flames, before my very eyes.

I have no fucking words for how angry I am.

Like, is Chuck really supposed to be some kind of threat?

Because, honestly? Who fucking gives a shit?

There is absolutely nothing threatening about that fucking toad.

Emotional blackmail, signed with love by Daddy. Nice.

THAT FUCKING SHIRT.

“Do I look like Jughead to you?”

Maybe in the right lighting.

“You really shouldn’t have.”

“...Are you drunk?”

Wow, yeah, just kinda hit me that Jughead would automatically know. How could he not?

A Spanish Happy Birthday! <3

I love the fact that they incorporate Veronica’s heritage into the show with little things like that.

“Thanks everyone,” he says with no sincerity, at all.

“Oh, it’s Kevin.”

Wow, hot damn, what a voice.

“That was..haunting, Betty.”

LMAO, yeah it was.

Wow, I paused the episode to type out my thoughts, and Betty is right in the middle of kissing Jughead’s cheek. In the other Just Things About posts that I’ve written, I know that I’ve mentioned the expression on Jughead’s face when Betty kisses him. The only way I can think to describe him in those moments is warm.

Right here, though, as Jughead stares down at that (honestly) weird-ass cake, and Betty pecks him on the cheek, Jughead reminds me of the cold. There is no warmth in his expression; there’s no happiness there.

I suppose that, essentially, Jughead looks the way that he currently feels.

(That feeling that he described to Archie over an entire pan of pizza in the Andrews’ kitchen.)

Jughead looks overwhelmingly, achingly alone, and it’s an unsettling thing to see when he is surrounded by people who claim to be his friends.

“I wish it were just the two of us right now.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Why the hell is everything so doom and gloom with you, Jug?”

It’s a real fucking mystery.

“I’m not normal. I’m not wired to be normal.”

“Did you really think you could throw a party without inviting moi?”

Why don’t these people lock their doors? It’s like they want to be robbed.

“Screw it, one in the kitchen, one in the backyard!”

I vote that we take Jughead and give him to some better friends, who’s with me?

“Valerie’s here, and I think she wants me back.”

LMFAO

IN YOUR FUCKING DREAMS.

“Now we’re here, in the middle of a Seth Rogan movie.”

I don’t even know why I’m laughing.

Joaquin&Kevin.

Joaquin&Kevin.

Why does this keep happening?

Oh shit.

“I’m sorry that, after you sexually harassed those girls, there were actual consequences, Chuck.”

“These kids are more on-the-ball than the Sheriff.”

You have no fucking clue.

LMAO

Alice Cooper, with the fucking binoculars. I can’t even.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t fit in.”

I’m okay. I am so okay. I am, like, the most okay ever.

I don’t feel SAD. Like, what even are emotions, you know? I don’t fucking know.

“Why are you getting so upset?”

Hmm, maybe it’s because you did the complete opposite of what he wanted on a day that he clearly can’t stand.

“I hate that word.”

“We’re on borrowed time.”

“Or until Archie changes his mind and says he wants to be with you?”

I, uh

“You shut me out, remember? It’s too late.”

Melody, being there for her girl.

Ugh. Archie, you dumbass.

On today’s episode of Archie Makes Bad Decisions.

“This whole night is bad luck.”

FP’s Concerned Dad(tm) expression.

Cheryl and Chuck are, like, the worst tag-team in the history of ever.

“But did you love him, maybe, in ways that a sister shouldn’t?”

Holy hell on ice.

“I want you to go back inside and talk to your girl.”

“Don’t run away! You’ve got something good here, with her, with your friends! Something that--something that we could never give you.”

I”M NOT CRYING, YOU’RE CRYING!

“Snakes don’t shed their skin so easily.”

Omg, Alice Cooper makes so much more sense, now.

Does she have the tattoo? I really hope she has the tattoo.

“And all this time, I thought you were a lover, not a fighter.” “I’m both; I’ve got layers.”

Like an onion?

“Maybe I’m not used to it, maybe I’m scared.”

Oh, Betty.

</3

Jughead’s expression when he sees Betty’s palms.

His hands around hers, his lips pressed to her knuckles.

The way Betty looks at Jughead while he’s looking down at their hands, like he’s something special, and she doesn’t understand how she got so lucky.

“By Monday, this will all be but a dream. Trust me, no one will remember anything.”

Pfffffffffttt. Okay, sweetie, if you say so.

“Why do I keep doing this?”

I’ve been wondering the same thing. Only, like, along the lines of, “Why does he keep doing this?”

“I keep wrecking things.”

Again, except, “He keeps wrecking things.”

“Welcome to my life.”

Please don’t start.

There she goes.

“Everyday I wonder, what if I had left Riverdale with my mom?”

It’s like the writer’s are handing out prompts to fanfic authors.

“We all are, Archie, and honestly? You less than most.”

...What??

Archie&Veronica???????????

He took the mattress on the floor, that is so cute.

“Dont worry, my lips are sealed.”

Damnit all, can’t you guys be friends already?

“I believe in you, Mom.”

Aw.

OMG.

IT WAS A BURGER.

BETTY MADE HIM A CAKE THAT LOOKS LIKE A BURGER.

THAT’S FUCKING ADORABLE.

I need glasses.

“So, you and Veronica?”

Pinky out when he takes a drink.

“This is a small town, but it’s not that small.”

Shit is about to go doooooown.

Betty&Veronica.

Some much needed Beronica.

“The last time you brought me baked goods was because you kissed Archie.”

Betty&Veronica.

Betty&Veronica holding hands.

Oh, fuck off, you Actual Five Headed Dragon.

“We’re home.”

Oh shit.

I wasn’t going to do this tonight, because I just got off work, I’ve got the mother of all migraines, and I wasn’t sure I’d be coherent enough to take everything in and then spit out proper notes. So, I may come back to this episode at a later date, when I’m a little more awake, and add to it, like I did with Chapter Eight (?).

No, scratch that, I will definitely revisit and add a part two, because there was so much that I didn’t address, because I just??? I can’t even properly express the way I felt about some of these scenes right now, I’m really drained from work, and there’s a lot that I really do want to talk about.

On the upside, this time Jughead’s birthday was just as shitty as every other day of the year.

LOL

Okay, sorry, I’m going.

[local-seraph]

Hi, (I hope it's okay to ask) how did you manage to learn that many languages? Could you explain your learning process and how long it took?

Hi! Sure it is! I’ll do my best!

OK, this probably wasn’t what you expected anon dear, but THIS GOT REALLY LONG I’M TOO TIRED TO MAKE IT SHORTER, SORRY 

Okay so first of all, Polish is the easiest one to explain as I am a native speaker. :)

English is my second language and I’ve started learning it when I was 4 although with little success until I turned 7 - see, that’s when my mother was offered a job abroad in an architectural office in the UK  (i am an only child in a one-parent household, so that meant I was going there with her). We moved to Newcastle and well, that was one hell of a lesson for me - both in terms of life, language and independence. Most kids suck at foreign languages, right? I was no different and suddenly I had only one polish speaking person around which I saw only between 7pm and 7am and from 7am till 7pm I was either with my English nanny my mom left me with in the morning, then school with British kids and other immigrants none of which were Polish and then picked up by the nanny again. It was like an extreme course in language learning and the first 3 months were hell, the next year and a half though were great and I became proficient really fast after the initial hell - no pain no gain right? We moved back when I was 10 but sometimes I wish we haven’t as I really connected with the life and culture there. Afterwards when I went back to the school I attended in Poland I was taught English through accelerated learning and attended classes with kids 5 years older than me, my mom also arranged for me to have classes with native speakers in language schools and then I passed the FCE and CAE Cambridge exams.

 Anyhow that was a lot of work and demanded a lot of my time and that's the crux of the matter with language learning I guess - you have to really dive into the experience because language is much more than verbs, phrases and tenses (hell I don’t even care about tense structure, wouldn't be able to explain how they differ and which one you use and when in eng but every native speaker I have ever met in my life was surprised I’m not a native) I practiced grammar and vocab in school and private courses, I read books in English all the time, I listen to music, I watch movies without subtitles, I talk with English speakers online and in real life and I do all that not sometimes, I do it all the time.

French - I started studying French in secondary school - dunno where you’re from but in Poland we have to learn two foreign languages: English from first grade and another one from 4th grade onwards - in most schools you pick between german and french (sometimes there’s Russian, in some secondary and high schools its Spanish or Italian). Anyway, I started with German bcs I have family there, but I didn’t really enjoy it that much so I went to a class with an advanced French course in secondary school - 5hrs of French classes in the first two years, seven in 3rd year. If I'm honest it was h e l l  - our teacher was kind of a Umbridge if she actually was a pro at defense because even though she was an evil toad she definitely knew what she was doing and during the second year when we went to Belgium for two weeks of language exchange I could communicate with little trouble. Afterward, I went to a different school for high school and there french sucked so again I found an advanced course in a language school - it too was painful because I had a packed schedule during the week so the classes were on Saturdays from 7am till noon and I bailed out of them after half a year. My french got a lot worse since then but I’m working on it myself now - I have a lot of language resources - you can never have enough of those! and I do all of the things I talked about above, the only difference I don't really have someone to speak with, which sucks because rn I’m too self-conscious in my ability to feel comfortable doing it :c Although when I went to France for 2 weeks this summer I had no other choice and survived somehow haha

Hebrew - I did a beginner's course for a year in Uni, it took place twice a week and it was great. I really love Hebrew and again - I try to read, speak and listen to Hebrew now that I don't have classes anymore. For some reason my teacher said that it seems to come naturally to me, maybe it’s my Jewish genes speaking haha - anyway I only took it for a year but when you’re in uni you can get print outs of the uni textbook pretty cheap in the uni printing house so I have a lot of spreadsheets and vocab lists and reading exercises to go through and memorize. Motivation is key!

Russian - I started learning it recently but I always wanted to - my grandparents live close to the Ukraine border and they are both fluent. I have some dictionaries, there are Dostoyewski’s books in the original text online - and he is one of my favorite writers so that’s one hell of a motivation! To be honest other than the alphabet it’s easy - mostly because it’s a Slavic language so a lot of the things sound like polish or a really far fetched metaphor of what you would’ve said in polish and the accent sounds “gooier”  than ours -  I have some Lithuanian, Ukrainian and Slovakian acquaintances so I’m good with Slavic accents by now.

 Ok, THAT’S IT! I really really hope this is the kind of answer you were looking for. If by chance you’re trying to learn polish and need a native speaker to chat with I'm here! If on the other hand free online books in Russian, French or Polish is what you’re looking for I’m glad to help.