#a crown of candy has always fascinated me specifically .......................

[fairykisser]

Damn am i rlly abt to get into dnd

[elasticitymudflap]

hey I know the whole 'I did not care for winter king' thing pretty much summed it up but i'd LOVE to hear what you thought of that whole fucking episode.

IT IS SO FASCINATING TO MEEEEEEE, i mean obviously a 'role swap' universe would be regardless, but beyond the surface lies a lot of hints towards reasons why this world was so different and fucked up fundamentally!! again, my big theory is that no matter what happens our simon is not going to be able to access the crown again in any universe they visit as an extension of betty's wish, so yeah winter king's ass was probably doomed the second they set their sights on duplicating the crown but also, good , because fuck that guy

one thing that stands out to me is how our simon's morals are very different and a lot stronger than wk's, especially how he very clearly doesn't wish the madness of the crown on anyone but himself, but he can empathize with other victims of the crown. throughout the entire episode he's desperately trying to get the others to empathize with candy queen's situation as someone who knows what the madness of the crown feels like and how it warps you. but also, his approach to her is so...

like he actually vibes along to her song, compliments her "metaphor", and above all BEGS fionna and wk to see her as a person who deserves compassion, patience, and understanding... something he seemingly doesn't seem to extend to himself as ice king.

but even her madness seems somewhat suspect to him - just before her musical number he seems mystified as to why the crown's madness would make pb obsessed with him, when he knows from his reality that it's marceline that she's in love with. i'd actually argue that there is a hint of distrust towards winter king that he can't quite put into words at first, but simon's self-loathing at how "functional" his counterpart is seems to counteract his instinct and so he never pries too deeply into it.

there's this interesting reaction to pre-winter king ice king that stands out to me, almost like he's confused and doesn't recognize this specific anger and wrath to be a part of his own ice king experience. our ice king seemed to be much more of a depressed and ultimately harmless nuisance than the threatening figure he appears to be in that sequence. in fact, despite the madness, our ice king is actually quite consistent in there being a line not to cross with violence: he saves finn and jake from the hitman he accidentally hired, he refuses to kill marceline and finn when the empress commands him, he's even horrified at himself in 'I Remember You' when he pushes marceline. our ice king cares infinitely more about having friends and for people to love him and understand him than he is to actively "fix" or change himself, and in the short-circuit that is his mind he always seems to find a way to redirect his 'bad feelings' into doing something fun or impulsive than to stew in anger.

and simon isn't exactly taken in by the splendor of winter king's whole thing the way everyone else is, he doesn't stop questioning how he did it. how did he supposedly "conquer" the crown through "sheer force of will", how did he manage to get the 'best of both worlds'?

except we know it's not. and the mask-slip starts pretty ominously with his insistence that candy queen's kingdom is "forbidden". he slips up just for a moment and then returns to his whimsical wizard of oz-ass persona, and he looks almost guilty for letting on that there's something wrong here that should be avoided

which is something else i'm very fascinated by: winter king's obvious hypocrisy and the awareness of his unethical behaviour. he's quite callous in performatively pretending not to remember who betty is, and then only referring to her as "the dead one". he also seems confused by simon's heartbroken reaction to this callousness, but even more so to his characterization of her as "the great love of (his) life". he obviously has some of our simon's attachments to the past and memories of people he loved, he definitely knows and loved marceline, so why is she the only person he cares about enough to make an "ice person" of? he doesn't recall betty as someone he had a great love with - though he obviously knew who she was, so does that mean he still had some kind of relationship with her?

remember, the mere notion of finding betty so he could apologize to her literally meant so much to our simon that he was able to hide his surviving research on time portals from himself inside the ice castle, long after she would have died naturally had she even survived the mushroom war. and during the bellanoche fiasco he literally staved off death from losing his magic through sheer force of will; the intense motivation to see her kept him going in a decaying 1000 year old human body long enough for him to jump right back into his research and create a time portal to her to say goodbye. that's how much she means to him.

winter king doesn't know that betty is technically still alive, or how our simon was freed from the crown's curse. he simply offers simon a solution to reuniting with someone who he loved who is dead, without knowing how very different our betty's situation is. and that solution is to make an ice-person of that person from the time you loved them, even though you know it's "unethical".

... but betty being "dead" was always the case to our simon, he knew that she was dead because of course she was, it was hundreds of years in the future! but there was always a way back to her, and it was because of his relationship with one miss betty "ancient magic was my major" grof that he had this plan ready at his fingertips

so i think maybe either this world's simon didn't have a very strong relationship with betty, or he did but he had some reason to write her off as 'dead forever' and throw away the prospect of ever seeing her again. it's interesting that despite writing betty off, ice king's obsession with bubblegum persisted as a point of his madness and transferred to her, when even our ice king still cared a lot about "weird lady", though he didn't know who betty was.

in any case, he dismisses the subject very quickly with "jokes" that creating an ice person of someone you cared about, who died, would be unethical. and yet...

this, too, is very interesting to me. little ice marcy has marceline's actual axe bass, the axe which hunson brought with him to ooo after simon summoned him to take care of marceline when he had to leave her - marcy converted it into a bass herself of course. and the two definitely met and stayed alive together when marcy was a child

i've seen people theorize that marcy died in this memory here, but considering the presence of the axe i'm honestly not so sure. i mean, she grew up enough to gain and convert the axe to a bass, maybe she died of old age as a half-demon and never turned into a vampire? except that non-vamp marceline from farmworld seemed to still be kicking, what would an extra 12 years be to someone like her?

despite simon's pleas for fionna not to hurt candy queen and for them to help her, winter king INSISTS that she can't be helped, and that the only solution is for fionna to "knock her out", not kill her, because he would lose his conduit for the crown's madness and so this cycle will continue forever. winter king seemed committed to keeping the secret of how he "conquered" the crown, and who he hurt to manifest this reality of his, only to reveal it supposedly when simon was infected with the crown's madness again.

so why did no one stop winter king for 100 years? finn wouldn't have been born yet, but surely marceline, if she were vamped up and aware of what winter king had done, would try to stop him? but there's no sign of her in this world... save for her one possession we know she had later in her life, in the hands of an ice clone of her, frozen at a time in her life when she still loved simon unconditionally.

... i'll leave you with one VERY interesting production note steve wolfhard posted today about the blade he gave fionna, because it implies that even beyond this simon lacking some integral part of what makes him himself, the madness of the crown wasn't completely absent the way he'd thought it had been, so even in the end it wasn't a "perfect" solution to the madness.

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Halloween Special 2023

Spock x Reader

            “Alright, everyone,” said Kirk, walking in front of landing party. “We’re going to be heading down to the surface of Luguna. Starfleet has already made contact in the past, so we know that they are a friendly planet.”

            The landing party relaxed. For once they weren’t going to a planet for an emergency call or a crisis.

            “We have been invited to an old holiday celebration by the Lugunians,” continued Kirk. “It’s called the ‘Day of Masquerade.’ They dress up people as deities from their religion and mythology and celebrate their beliefs with a feast and dancing.”

            Uhura smiled. “It reminds me of Halloween from back on Earth,” she said.

            Chekov nodded. “Russian Halloween was always the best.”

            “Clearly you haven’t been to an old country celebration of it,” said Bones.

            “Aye,” agreed Scotty.

            “What is Halloween?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

            “It came from an old pagan holiday and now it’s where people dress up in fun costumes and eat candy and dance,” said Kirk, smiling.

            “Fascinating. In most cultures, holidays serve a specific purpose, but this one seems to lack such a reason,” observed Spock from beside (Y/N).

            “Maybe it’s about hedonism,” said (Y/N), teasing the humans with Spock.

            “Perhaps,” he said.

            “Oh, god, he’s learning to tease us,” said Bones, horrified at Spock so at ease with (Y/N).

            Kirk just laughed as Spock straightened, a bit affronted at the implication he used emotions. “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

            The landing party stepped into the Transporter and dematerialized, reappearing on the planet below.

            The Lugunians, dressed a wide array of colors and outfits, smiled and shook their hands. They excitedly offered clothes and accessories to the Starfleet officers. (Y/N) smiled as the warmth of joyous emotions spread over them.

            “Please, join us in our celebration!” said one Lugunian, wearing a large crown of flowers pinned to their coily hair. “We’ve prepared costumes for you all.”

            (Y/N) smiled as several Lugunians held out an outfit to them. “We’d be honored.” They smiled at Spock and brushed a hand over his arm. “I’ll be right back.”

            “As will I,” said Spock as several other Lugunians began to hand him an outfit.

            (Y/N) chuckled and smiled at him before following the Lugunians to change.

l

            “Well, Jim, these are some getups they got us in,” said Bones. He wore a loose tunic in a pale blue with a green robe wrapped around him. “Apparently we’re dressed as deities like they are.”

            “Yep!” said Kirk, smiling. He had a white chiffon robe strung half across his chest ending in a long skirt on, and a gold arm brace strapped to him. “I’m the god of protection and loyalty.”

            Bones snorted at how appropriate that was for the fiercely protective captain before him. “They’re damn good at giving us costumes. I’m the god of health and liveliness.”

            “They definitely got me right,” said Uhura, walking up to them. She wore a dress that swirled in reds, oranges, and yellows at the top and blues, greens, and purples at the bottom. Golden bracelets hung from her arms, and she spun and posed. “I’m the goddess of beauty and love.”

            “I’m the god of sport!” said Chekov, sporting a tunic or red and sandals with wings.

            “Well, Captain, I don’t quite understand it, but I’m the god of wisdom,” said Scotty, wearing a grey tunic with a smelter’s apron overtop.

            Kirk suppressed a chuckle, and Bones snorted. “Well, Scotty, you do love understanding the Enterprise and technology.”

            “I suppose, sir,” said Scotty.

            “Hello, Captain,” said Spock, approaching the group after he finished changing.

            Bones grinned. “Well, well, well, what did they put you into?”

            “According to the Lugunians, I’m the god of hunting and providing,” said Spock. He had a deep blue tunic on with a leather harness for a bow on.

            “What a coincidence. I’m the deity of nature,” said (Y/N), appearing beside Spock. He turned and paused. (Y/N) grinned at him and put their hands on their hips. “What do you think?”

            They had on makeup to make them look like a deer, and they had a brown dress that shone gold in the sun that hung loosely around their knees. Vines wrapped around their legs and arms to complete the nature deity look. With their natural gold eyes, (Y/N) embodied nature perfectly.

            “You look amazing!” said Uhura, grinning.

            “It definitely fits your personality,” said Bones.

            (Y/N) stepped up to Spock and cocked their head. He nodded and spoke quietly so the others didn’t hear. “You look nice.”

            “Thank you, Spock,” said (Y/N). “You look very nice, too.”

            Spock inclined his head in thanks.

            Around them, music started up, and the Lugunians began dancing, quickly drawing the rest of the landing party in until (Y/N) and Spock were the only ones left. (Y/N) hummed along and swayed to the music.

            “You should dance,” said Spock. “You are clearly inclined to.”

            “I’d rather dance with someone,” said (Y/N), smiling at him.

            Spock blinked. “I am unaccustomed to dancing.”

            “I can help you,” said (Y/N).

            Spock hesitated but a moment. “Very well.” For them, he was willing to try something new.

            (Y/N) grinned, leaned up, and kissed his cheek. It was a thank you for going along with what they wanted. When they stood back, Spock reached out and took their hand. His fingers brushed theirs in a Vulcan kiss, an admittance of soft affection.

            (Y/N) smiled and held his hand tighter before pulling him to the dancing. Pure love from his emotions filtered into them from their connected hands, and in the soft golden glow of the sun and their love, they began to dance together.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

[daitranscripts]

Dorian Conversation: Investigate

Tell Me About the Imperium

Dorian Masterpost

Dorian: Ah. Yes, everyone outside the Imperium always seems quite fascinated by it. Probably why they come up with so many ridiculous tales. Flying cows over Minrathous? Madness! All right, that one’s actually true, but the cows didn’t have wings. I digress. Anything in particular you wanted to know?

If asked before: Dorian: Popular topic. Anything specific?

1 - Dialogue options:

History: Corypheus was a magister. [2]

Investigate: Do mages truly rule there? [3]

Investigate: The Imperium has a Chantry? [4]

Investigate: Could Tevinter be an ally? [5]

Investigate: Is blood magic common? [6]

Investigate: What about slavery? [7]

General: That’s it. [8]

2 - History: Corypheus was a magister. PC: Corypheus is a figure out of Tevinter history. He was a magister. Dorian: Yes, but that was a different time. The Imperium’s power was at its peak then. The civil war had ended. The Magisterium was united, its armies scooping up bits of Thedas like candy. The magisters who entered the Black City… it was a demonstration of how exceptional Tevinter had become. PC: But who were they? Dorian: No one knows. There’s no record of a magister named “Corypheus.” All this happened fourteen hundred years ago, before the Blight nearly wiped us out. There are no records. Today, people half-believe it’s all just a story. That’s what I believed.

Dialogue options:

History: But it’s not a story. [9]

[Back to 1]

9 - History: But it’s not a story. PC: We have evidence the story is very much real. Dorian: But not who Corypheus is, if he even remembers. There used to be families who claimed some of those magisters as their own. That stopped when the Chantry appeared. Then it was shameful, and the families distanced themselves from the tale. All we know is that some men and women entered the Black City, looking for the Old Gods. What did they find? According to Corypheus, nothing, and only he could tell us more. [back to 1]

3 - Investigate: Do mages truly rule there? PC: It seems strange that an entire empire would be ruled by mages.

Dorian (mage PC): Strange? Why are you less qualified to rule than some tart with a fancy crown? Dorian (non-mage PC): I find it strange that your mages don’t rule anything at all.

Dorian: (Chuckles.) Actually, the fiction in the Imperium is that mages don’t rule. The Magisterium rules. That magisters are all mages is considered a… convenient technicality.

10 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: The Magisterium? [11]

Investigate: What about the Archon? [12]

Investigate: But mages do rule. [13]

General: I want to ask something else. [14]

11 - Investigate: The Magisterium? PC: What is the Magisterium, exactly? Dorian: The upper house of the Imperial Senate, and the only part worth having a seat on. Those seats are split among the Circles of Magi, the Chantry, and the major families–all mages now. It’s odd that outside the Imperium, you use “magister” like it applies to every Tevinter mage.

Dialogue options:

Special: What are you, then? [15]

[Back to 10]

15 - Special: What are you, then? PC: If you’re not a magister, then what are you called? No special title? Dorian: I’m an altus, which is almost as good as a magister, depending on who you ask. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Dialogue options:

Special: And an altus is… [16]

[Back to 10]

16 - Special: And an altus is… PC: I’ve never heard of an “altus.” Dorian: Upper class. Those families who trace descent from the Dreamers, the first prophets of the Old Gods. If you’re a mage and you’re not altus, then you’re laetan. Lower class. If you’re not a mage at all, you’re soporati. That’s “everyone else.” We do love our fancy words. [back to 10]

12 - Investigate: What about the Archon? PC: I thought the Archon ruled over the Imperium. Dorian: Well, yes… technically he can overrule laws passed by the Magisterium, but that never happens. Even so, he gets to appoint new magisters, which means all the families vie madly for his favor. Thus the Archon gets invited to all the parties. The truest path to Tevinter influence, let me tell you. [back to 10]

13 - Investigate: But mages do rule. PC: If it’s a fiction, that means mages do rule, then. Dorian: Yes and no. Let me put it this way: mages do rule, but not all mages are equal. If you’re not from the right family, chances are you don’t rule anything. Maybe you’re even a slave. The idea that anyone could be a mage, however, keeps the masses placated.

Dialogue options:

Special: Is that true? [17]

[Back to 10]

17 - Special: Is that true? PC: Can anyone be a mage? Dorian: Technically. The potential runs mostly in bloodlines, but it’s been known to happen. More importantly, commoners believe it can. Tevinter legend is chock-full of mage heroes from humble origins. So they hold out hope. “Someday, my son or my son’s son will be a mage. Someday.” Poor sods don’t realize that means he’ll be a quaestor at the ass end of the Hundred Pillars. At best. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Dialogue options:

Special: Is that bad? [18]

[Back to 10]

18 - Special: Is that bad? PC: Being a quaestor isn’t a good thing? Dorian: I imagine the average non-mage likes to think so. Counting numbers and shuffling papers all day is better than many occupations, after all. If you’re a second-class citizen among a pack of piranha, however, your outlook changes. [back to 10]

14 - General: I want to ask something else. PC: Let me ask you something else. Dorian: Of course. [Back to 1]

4 - PC: There’s an Imperial Chantry, isn’t there? With its own Divine? Dorian: You people aren’t supposed to talk about the Black Divine, are you? If you mention him outside the Imperium, people make that face. Like you’re urinating in public. But, yes, we do have the Chantry. Or a version of it. Night and day, comparing it to yours.

19 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Is it really that different? [20]

Investigate: The Black Divine? [21]

Investigate: Are you religious? [22]

General: I want to ask something else. [23]

20 - Investigate: Is it really that different? PC: Is the Imperial Chantry so different from ours? Dorian: Not in theory. The main difference is in the whole “magic is meant to serve man, not rule over him” business. Back home, ruling the unwashed masses is serving them. For the good of the Imperium. Perhaps it started with good intentions, but these days it’s academic. The Circles are in command.

Dialogue options:

Special: You have Circles? [24]

[Back to 20]

24 - Special: You have Circles? PC: There are Circles of Magi in the Imperium? Dorian: We don’t have dismal little mage prisons, if that’s what you mean. They’re academies. Prestigious ones. We have templars as well, but they don’t cancel spells—or whatever your templars do. They’re soldiers. ㅤㅤ ㅤ PC (mage PC): They don’t use lyrium? Dorian: Ha! As if there’d be any left for them. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Dorian: They watch for abuse of magic, yes, but only those who are weak or who fall out of favor get dealt with. Mostly they enforce the Magisterium’s edicts. The Chantry smiles and nods from the sidelines. [back to 20]

21 - Investigate: The Black Divine? PC: Do you really call him the “Black Divine”? Dorian: We don’t call him that, oh, no. In the Imperium, he’s the true Divine. The woman sitting on the Sunburst Throne is some backwater pretender. It all stems from a disagreement over Andraste. Marvelous, isn’t it?

25 - Dialogue options:

Special: A disagreement? [26]

Special: Your Divine is male? [27]

[Back to 20]

26 - Special: A disagreement? PC: Why would they disagree over Andraste? Dorian: It’s not my field of expertise, but the Imperium believes Andraste was a mortal woman. A mage. Down south they say, “No, she’s the Bride of the Maker! Ascended to His side, divine provenance, blah, blah, blah.” We feel better believing Andraste was one of us. Makes executing her less damning, you see. So we elected a man as Divine, the South declared war, and we’ve been feuding cousins ever since. [back to 25] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 27 - Special: Your Divine is male? PC: So… the Imperial Divine is always a man? Dorian: All the better to distinguish him from “that other one,” yes. Don’t think there aren’t a number of female magisters who bristle at that. Why can’t they be Divine, after all? Same reason you never see a man on the Sunburst Throne. Because that’s how it’s always been done. Excellent reasoning. [back to 25]

22 - Investigate: Are you religious? PC: Do you consider yourself Andrastian? Dorian: Ah. The big question. It might surprise you that I do consider myself Andrastian. I simply do not believe in the Chantry. It is a relic, whether back home or here in the South. Something from a bygone age desperately clinging to relevance. It’s not an opinion that makes me popular.

Dialogue options:

General: I agree with you. [28] Divine: +1 Leliana, -1 Vivienne

General: The Chantry has its place. [29]

General: Others might object, yes. [30]

28 - General: I agree with you. PC: I share your opinion, actually. Dorian: That’s not surprising, considering what the Inquisition represents. [31] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 29 - General: The Chantry has its place. PC: I disagree. I don’t think the Chantry is irrelevant. Dorian: Not to most, no. Perhaps just to me. [31] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 30 - General: Others might object, yes. PC: I’m not surprised. It’s not an opinion you should share. Dorian: You did ask, if you’ll recall. [31]

31 - Scene continues.

Dorian: I’ll say this: I may not believe in the Chantry, but I believe in you.

PC: In me?

Dorian: That the Maker sent you, whether through Andraste or fate. Cassandra is not wrong.

Dorian (sided mages): You saw in that future: without you, Corypheus prevails. You are our bulwark against evil. Dorian (sided templars): You are what we needed most at the moment we needed it. That’s what they will say in ages to come.

Dialogue options:

General: I’m surprised you think that. [32]

General: I don’t know. [33] +Dorian slightly approves

General: I agree. [34] +Dorian slightly approves

General: You are a fool. [35] -Dorian disapproves

32 - General: I’m surprised you think that. PC: You don’t seem like the religious sort, to be honest. Dorian: If you define “religious” as sitting in a chantry and listening to a blithering hen tell you how to live, then no. If you define it as believing in the possibility that something larger than yourself exists, then yes. By all means. [36] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 33 - General: I don’t know. PC: I’m not sure about that, myself. Dorian: Doubt is good. I like doubt. It will keep you sane. Me, I’ve seen too much to believe I know everything. [36] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 34 - General: I agree. PC: That’s true. I feel the same. Dorian: My. Someone’s full of themselves, aren’t they? PC: I was just agreeing with you. Dorian: Don’t agree on my account. A little doubt wouldn’t harm the Herald of Andraste. Me, I’ve seen too much to believe I know everything. [36] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 35 - General: You are a fool. PC: That’s what you think? That’s ridiculous. Dorian: Oh? I’m glad you’re so certain. Me, I’ve seen too much to believe I know everything. [36]

36 - Scene continues.

Dorian: The world is bigger than I, even bigger than you. It laughs at all the things we think we know. The Maker doesn’t need me to believe, but I do. The thought of no one at all watching out for us is too frightening. [back to 19]

23 - General: I want to ask something else. PC: Let me ask you something else. Dorian: So many questions. [Back to 1]

5 - Investigate: Could Tevinter be an ally? PC: I’m wondering if the Imperium would be a useful ally. Dorian: I’d think you’d be more concerned whether or not they’d support the Venatori. They won’t, of course. At least not officially. They’ll disavow all knowledge of “dangerous cultists.” Secretly many magisters will rejoice at the idea. And if the South falls to chaos in the meantime? All the better.

Dialogue options:

Special: Is that smart of them? [37]

[Back to 1]

37 - Special: Is that smart of them? PC: It would be in the Imperium’s best interest to help. Surely it could use allies. Dorian: I think the Imperium gave up on the idea of allies a long time ago. We’ve been fighting the Qunari for, what? Two hundred years, off and on? It’s a point of pride that we go it alone. They’ll sneer at the South behind their silk handkerchiefs and say you’ve had it easy for far too long. Let’s not forget that the Inquisition seems to be an arm of the Orlesian Chantry. Anathema, so far as they’re concerned. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Dialogue options:

Special: But we’re not! [38]

[Back to 1]

38 - Special: But we’re not! PC: We’re not part of the Chantry. The Chantry opposed the Inquisition’s formation. Dorian: You think that matters? Don’t be silly. The Herald of Andraste? Your very title smacks of the southern Chantry. You may as well be a heathen. I think they’re far more frightened what you’ll do if you succeed. [back to 1]

6 - Investigate: Is blood magic common? PC: Just how often is blood magic used there? Dorian: Oh, not at all. PC: Not at all… Dorian: That’s what any magister would tell you. They’d be convincingly offended by the notion, too. Of course, what people call blood magic here and what we consider blood magic are two different things.

Dialogue options:

Special: What do you call it? [39]

[Back to 1]

39 - Special: What do you call it? PC: What’s considered actual blood magic in Tevinter? Dorian: Blood magic isn’t inherently dangerous. Using your own blood or that of a willing participant? What’s the harm? The problem is that what’s permitted only gets you so much power. And what if you need more? You always need more. That’s where we get into sacrifices and demon-summoning. None of that is done–not officially. Behind closed doors, it’s a different story. Real blood magic can give you an edge, a leg up against your opponents. It’s safe to assume that any mage of rank does it. The rest are quietly shut out of power, to put it bluntly. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Dialogue options:

Special: No templar intervention? [40]

[Back to 1]

40 - Special: No templar intervention? PC: You’d think the templars would object. Dorian: I imagine they did, long ago. Once their investigations might have been sincere. Then their balls were cut off. Too inconvenient. Nowadays, only the friendless are accused… and most of them probably innocent. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Dialogue options:

Special: No one disagrees? [41]

[Back to 1]

41 - Special: No one disagrees? PC: There must be some mages who oppose this. Dorian: Of course. I do, and I’m not entirely alone. Occasionally there’ll be a magister who makes noise, and then the reform talk begins. All very patriotic. Meanwhile, that magister will be quietly shunned. Chances are—surprise!—it’s learned he was a maleficar all along. Most learn to keep quiet. Me? I enjoy the allure of pariah-hood. [back to 1]

7 - Investigate: What about slavery? PC: Anyone who talks about the Imperium mentions slavery. It’s the center of the slave trade. Dorian: Ah. That is true. PC: And? Did you have slaves? Dorian: Not personally, but my family does and treats them well. Honestly, I never thought much about it until I came south. Back home, it’s… how it is? Slaves are everywhere. You don’t question it. I’m not even certain many slaves do.

Dialogue options:

General: You’re saying they like it? [42]

General: It’s not like that here. [43]

General: That’s a terrible attitude. [44] -Dorian slightly disapproves

42 - General: You’re saying they like it? PC: You think slaves like it that way? Don’t be ridiculous. Dorian: I didn’t say they like it. It’s all most of them know. [45] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 43 - General: It’s not like that here. PC: Well, we don’t have slaves in the South. [45] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 44 - General: That’s a terrible attitude. PC: That’s it? You don’t question it? [45]

45 - Scene continues.

Dorian: In the South you have alienages, slums both human and elven. The desperate have no way out. Back home, a poor man can sell himself. As a slave, he could have a position of respect, comfort, and could even support a family. Some slaves are treated poorly, it’s true, but do you honestly think inescapable poverty is better?

Dialogue options:

General: At least they have a choice. [46] -Dorian slightly disapproves

General: I suppose not. [47] +Dorian slightly approves

General: “Treated poorly”? [48]

46 - General: At least they have a choice. PC: At least they’re free. They don’t have slavery forced on them. Dorian: You think people choose to be poor and oppressed? I doubt it. [49] ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 47 - General: I suppose not. PC: I suppose not, no. [49] ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 48 - General: “Treated poorly”? PC: Is that what you call it? “Treated poorly”? [49]

49 - Scene continues.

Dorian: Abuse heaped upon those without power isn’t limited to Tevinter, my friend. I don’t know what it’s like to be a slave, true. I never thought about it until I saw how different it was here. But I suspect you don’t know, either, nor should you believe that every tale of Tevinter excess is the norm. [back to 1]

8 - General: That’s it. PC: That’s all I wanted to know. Dorian: Fair enough.

[lamiasluck]

Just Making Sure

Summary: News of Eric's shop has officially spread to all of Dark's gang. While a new shop opening isn't exciting news, what is confusing is how Bim described him. Innocent and good? In this town? Too unlikely, no one believes him. So Dark assigns a spy mission to King to find some dirt on Eric, or, more specifically, assigns a mission for King's squirrels. After all, who would grow suspicious of a troop of adorable squirrels?

AU: Magic au, every ego has magical powers and familiars

Characters: King, Eric, Bim, Dark, and a few other egos

Words: 1844

Read on AO3!

-

“He could be a spy,” Google said nonchalantly.

Bim slammed his hand against the meeting table. “I will bet money on this. He’s just some random innocent guy.”

“In this town? Doubt it,” Illinois laughed. “I’ll take you on that bet though, I could use a new hat.”

“Your luck’s gonna run out, Illy.”

The point of this meeting was to discuss future schemes and new targets. Dark didn’t expect it to derail like this. One passing comment about the new potion maker, that’s all it took, and now they were at a point of no return. Curiosity was a dangerous emotion, or incredibly annoying in this case. This potion maker, Eric, would be a topic of focus for the time being. It’s not every day one man grabs the attention of an entire gang, for good reasons, at least. However, this unorganized talk was getting tiresome.

Dark folded his hands and placed them on the table. “Bim, you’ve met this man once.” His searing voice immediately silenced the group. “How can you know his intentions?”

Bim shifted in his seat as he thought about his next words carefully. “He’s so… innocent? I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen wannabe spies before. He doesn’t seem like one.” As he continued he furrowed his brows and looked more and more fascinated. “He’s a good guy, and pure-”

“As pure as the driven snow?” Dark cut him off, staring at him with an analyzing gaze.

Instantly Bim caved under the pressure. “Well, yeah, I… I guess so?”

“Then there’s something he’s hiding. No one here doesn’t have blood on their hands.”

The group fell silent, uncomfortably so. Dark reveled in their unease, however, Wilford broke the silence before the feeling could sink in.

“I met him the other day! He’s as sweet as candy! As pure as a newborn puppy!”

“Though he acts more like a kicked one…” Bim raised his head again. There’s the confidence again. “I don’t know why he acts like that, maybe it was something I did?”

“It was definitely something you did,” Dark sighed.

Wilford hummed. “He acted all nervous around me too.”

“Then it was something you both did.” Dark cracked his neck, standing up and glaring at everyone. “Clearly this meeting has gone awry. If you all want to spend your time with your infatuations then so be it, just don’t be surprised when your latest sweetheart reveals his true colours.”

“I’m telling you, this guy’s as innocent as I say he is,” Bim murmured.

Dark walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright then, Trimmer.” His grip tightened. “You hold onto that notion.” He looked at King from across the table, who flinched and looked back with fear. “King, follow me, I have a job for you. We’re going to investigate.”

-

A soft hum was the only sound within the quiet shop. Eric was taking the time to water his plants and herbs. For once, the day was peaceful, downright pleasant even. Either that or Eric was always anticipating some sort of chaos to happen. His day could go from zero to a hundred quickly, he had to take advantage of any peaceful moments he could capture.

Tulip watched unblinking as he worked, nose twitching in anticipation. Eric sighed with a fond smile and carefully picked off a leaf of basil. Within seconds it was gone, munched away by a ruthless Tulip.

The day continued as such. As far as Eric could tell, today was a normal day. Slow business can be a saving grace sometimes. It meant no one could interrogate him or make him brew up another harmful potion. Speaking of potions he took the time to restock his shelves, he spent most of his time in the backroom with his ingredients.

Unbeknownst to him, there were spies amongst him. Very tiny spies.

King’s familiar, Princess, lead the charge. A cluster of her most trusted squirrel subjects followed her chittered commands, jumping from tree to tree. She differed from the other “commoner” squirrels, of course, she had elegance.

A grey blur glided between the trees. Being a flying squirrel had its advantages, Princess landed onto the shop’s roof without any trouble, her loyal troops following suit. They positioned themselves accordingly, perching onto windows to spy on their target.

Eric was in the back room stirring his next concoction. A pinch of ground herbs, a sprig of enchanted flowers, and a touch of love and care. Also magic, lots of magic. Too preoccupied with the task at hand, he didn’t notice the sounds of little paws skittering nor the quick shadows of passing spies. Not that it damned his soul or anything, the plethora of spies was growing bored of his uneventful routine, staring at the peaceful scene.

By how Dark worded the mission made it seem like the squirrels would see Eric kill someone. Hours passed and now Eric was reading by a table in the main shop. It was even a cute light-hearted book. Princess huffed and scratched at her ears. Her troops were resting in a nearby tree, far too bored to spy any longer. She wasn’t going to give up that easily. Now perched on the windowsill that gave a good view of the entire main shop, she watched diligently.

Her view of her target was abruptly blocked by a mass of white fluff. A bunny jumped up onto a nearby shelf next to the window, not noticing her presence yet. That moment was short-lived, however. The second the bunny noticed her it was chaos.

“Tulip?!” Eric jumped to his feet as Tulip ungracefully leaped from the shelf and dashed towards him. He looked at the window and saw Princess hideaway a second too late. “W-What’s that?” he questioned out loud.

Casting one more look at his poor familiar cowering, he cautiously made his way to the door and stepped outside. Princess pressed herself against the wall to hide, though that didn’t help her cover, none of her troops were around to help either. They had a silent stare off for a moment, then Eric’s eyes brightened and a small smile appeared on his lips.

He cooed softly at Princess and looked back at Tulip, who was still cowering. “It’s okay! Come on, it’s just - just a squirrel.” A much different squirrel than he was used to, much tinier, round, and curled into a ball and staring at him with big curious eyes. Quite eye-catching, and utterly adorable.

Tulip still wasn’t convinced and continued to hide under the table. This was normal behaviour for the bunny, especially in this town, her nervous habits became amplified. Though, to be fair, both her and Eric were always on their toes in this town. However, Eric could never be scared of such a cute animal. He hummed to himself and went back into the shop, walking into the backroom to get something.

Princess tilted her head as she was abandoned. Soon after, Eric returned with something in his hands. Perhaps he was about to reveal that evil side Dark told her and King about. Was she about to find out the harsh way?

A handful of sunflower seeds were placed on the windowsill. Then, Eric walked back inside to comfort Tulip, managing to pick her up and hug her. Princess hopped up and looked at the seeds with suspicion. Well… she was getting hungry from all the spying.

“Aw~ See, Tulip? The squirrel’s not gonna hurt you,” Eric reassured as he watched the squirrel feast on the seeds. He turned Tulip in his arms until she could see how harmless Princess was. The sight calmed her down slightly, her and Princess locked eyes for a brief moment before the squirrel returned to eating.

For once, Tulip felt calm. On the flip side, Princess’ worries about Eric being evil vanished more and more with each seed she stuffed in her mouth.

Eric giggled and gently placed Tulip on the shelf in front of Princess. Only a window separated the two.

“W-Will you be - be okay, Tulip? I’m gonna, um, I should get more seeds.” Eric left and Tulip watched the squirrel eat with a sudden burst of confidence. Another squirrel, one of Princess’ troops, popped up to have a share of the food. Then another, then another, then another… A small cluster of squirrels gathered on the windowsill now. All of them looked like an average squirrel compared to Princess, and all of them made Tulip’s confidence falter.

Princess allowed her subjects to have their share of the feast, glancing back into the shop. She caught sight of Tulip in front of her, ears flattened to her head and shaking slightly. Yet, Tulip stayed planted in place, staring at her with determination. Even with the window in the way she could understand what the bunny was doing. Facing her fears.

Now that was a mindset royalty could appreciate.

Before Tulip got too overwhelmed and hopped away, Princess tapped her paw on the glass to get her attention. As a sign of respect, she nudged her head against the glass and bowed the best she could. She’d love to give her new bunny friend a hug, but this damned glass was in the way! So she settled with the next best thing.

Tulip stilled and twitched her nose. Slowly, but surely she hopped closer and nudged her head against the glass.

“Aw~!” Eric nearly dropped the seeds he was holding. “You made a friend!”

The seeds were the last thing on Princess’s mind right now, though they were a welcomed luxury. Her new friend will make for a great subject.

-

“I told you,” Bim sneered at Dark.

The meeting room had an air of confusion to it, with quiet murmuring amongst the egos. Dark paid no attention Bim’s snarky gaze, instead looking at King while he spoke in a smooth, albeit frustrated, tone.

“You better not be lying to me.”

King cowered in his chair. “I’m not-! They didn’t find anything!” His crown was off and resting on his lap, temporarily housing Princess as she also cowered. “Eric’s really nice, he took care of my squirrels…” he trailed off with a small smile on his face, though that was quickly wiped off by Dark’s exasperated attitude.

“How did he end up here?” Dark questioned out loud.

“I don’t know,” Bim shrugged, “but he’s here now, and I think he doesn’t know what this town really is.”

Fascinated, that was the emotion that spread through the awkwardly quiet room. Not many believed someone so good waltzed into this town. Then again, perhaps they were too used to their vile ways to acknowledge the possibility of someone pure near them.

‘There must be something he’s hiding.’

That thought crossed everyone’s mind. A puzzle just waiting to be solved. A puzzle that they were going to figure out, one way or another.

It didn’t matter that this “puzzle” was going to be scared out of his wits, what mattered was finding out answers.

[bobblesnbittybites]

Curious about what types of Olives and Olivias I should do next!

so- send me a wild animal, butterfly, plant, fungus, and/or metal/crystal/rock to make a pair out of! Here’s some notes about flower language and a few meanings of other plants to help out.

Acacia Blossom - Concealed Love; Beauty in Retirement;  Chaste Love

Acorn - Nordic Symbol of Life and immortality

Ambrosia - Your Love is Reciprocated

Arbutus- Thee Only Do I Love

Aster - Symbol of Love: Daintiness

Azalea - Take Care of Yourself for Me; Temperance; Fragile Passion; Chinese Symbol of Womanhood

Alstroemeria flower is symbolic of wealth, prosperity and fortune. It is also the flower of friendship.

Amaryllis This flower is symbolic of splendid beauty. It is also used to indicate worth beyond beauty. Pride; Pastoral Poetry

Anemone on a darker note indicates fading hope and a feeling of having been forsaken. On a positive note, it symbolizes anticipation. Forsaken

Anthurium symbolizes hospitality. It is also used to indicate happiness and abundance.

Aster symbolizes patience. It is also indicative of a love of variety. It also symbolizes elegance and daintiness.

Bird of Paradise symbolizes joyfulness. It also symbolizes magnificence. It can also be used to indicate exciting and wonderful anticipation.

Bouvardia Double symbolizes enthusiasm. It is also used to indicate zest for life.

Bachelor Button - Single Blessedness

Begonia - Beware

Bells of Ireland - Good Luck

Bittersweet - Truth

Bluebell - Humility

Bouquet of Withered Flowers- Rejected Love

Cactus - Endurance

Camellia-  Admiration; Perfection; Good Luck, Gift to a Man, Pink - Longing for You, Red - You're a Flame in My Heart, White - You're Adorable

Candy Tuft - Indifference

Cattail - Peace; Prosperity

Chrysanthemum-  represent happiness, love, longevity and joy, yellow: neglected love or sorrow, red : love, white : loyalty and devoted love, 

Coreopsis - Always Cheerful

Crocus - Cheerfulness

Cyclamen - Resignation and Good-bye

Calla Lily symbolizes magnificence and beauty. White Calla lilies combine these two attributes with purity and innocence associated with the color white to make it the perfect choice of flower in a Wedding bouquet.

Carnation symbolizes pride and beauty, Fascination; Divine Love. A red carnation symbolizes love, pride, and admiration; My Heart Aches for You; Admiration; a pink carnation symbolizes the love of a woman or a mother; I'll Never Forget You; a purple carnation symbolizes capriciousness; a yellow carnation symbolizes disdain, rejection or disappointment; You Have Disappointed Me; Rejection; while a white carnation symbolizes innocence and pure love; Sweet and Lovely; Innocence; Pure Love; Woman's Good Luck Gift. A striped carnation conveys No; Refusal; Sorry I Can't Be with You: Wish l Could Be with You. Solid Colour - Yes

Chrysanthemum symbolizes fidelity, optimism, joy, and a long life. A red chrysanthemum conveys love; a white chrysanthemum symbolizes truth and loyal love while a yellow chrysanthemum symbolizes slighted love. General - You're A Wonderful Friend; Cheerfulness and Rest, Red - I Love, White - Truth, Yellow - Slighted Love

Daffodil symbolizes regard and chivalry. It is indicative of rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life. It also symbolizes unrequited love. A single Daffodil foretells misfortune while a bunch of daffodils indicates joy and happiness. Regard; Unrequited Love; You're the Only One; The Sun is Always Shining When I'm with You

Daisy symbolizes innocence and purity. It conveys loyal love and “I will never tell”. Gerbera Daisy specifically conveys cheerfulness. Innocence; Loyal Love; I'll Never Tell; Purity

Delphinium, Hybrid symbolizes big-heartedness, fun, lightness and levity. It also indicates an ardent attachment.

Dandelion - Faithfulness; Happiness

Dead Leaves - Sadness

Fern - Magic; Fascination; Confidence and Shelter, Maidenhair - Secret Bond of Love

Fir - Time

Flax - Domestic Symbol

Forget-Me-Not- True Love; Memories

Freesia symbolizes innocence and thoughtfulness.

Forsythia - Anticipation

Gardenia symbolizes purity and sweetness. They indicate secret love. They convey joy. They tell the receiver you are lovely. You're Lovely: Secret Love

Gerbera belongs to the daisy family and therefore assumes the symbolism associated with the daisy flower. Gerbera specifically conveys cheerfulness.

Gladiolus symbolizes strength of character, faithfulness, and honor. The Gladiolus flower signifies remembrance. Give Me a Break . . . I'm Really Sincere; Flower of the Gladiators

Grass - Submission

Garlic - Courage; Strength

GeraniuM -"Stupidity; Folly

GLOXINIA - Love at First Sight

Hyacinth symbolizes playfulness and a sporty attitude and in its extreme rashness. Hyacinths also denote constancy. Blue hyacinth stands for constancy, purple for sorrow, red or pink for play, white for loveliness and yellow for jealousy.

Hydrangea symbolizes heartfelt emotions. It can be used to express gratitude for being understood. In its negative sense hydrangea symbolizes frigidity and heartlessness. Thank You for Understanding; Frigidity; Heartlessness

Hyacinth  General - Games and Sports; Rashness: Flower Dedicated to Apollo, Blue - Constancy, Purple - I Am Sorry; Please Forgive Me: Sorrow, Red or Pink - Play, White- Loveliness; I'll Pray for You, Yellow - Jealousy

Holly - Defense; Domestic Happiness

Heather Lavender symbolizes admiration, solitude, and beauty while white heather symbolizes protection and indicates that wishes will come true. Lavender - Admiration; Solitude, White - Protection; Wishes will Come True,

Iris symbolizes eloquence. Purple iris is symbolic of wisdom and compliments. Blue iris symbolizes faith and hope. Yellow iris symbolizes passion while white iris symbolizes purity. 

Fleur-de-Lis, Emblem of France: Your Friendship Means So Much to Me; Faith; Hope; Wisdom and Valour; My Compliment

Ivy - Wedded Love; Fidelity; Friendship; Affection, Ivy Sprig Of White Tendrils -Anxious to Please; Affection

Jonquil - Love Me; Affection Returned; Desire; Sympathy; Desire for Affection Returned

Larkspur-  Pink - Fickleness

Lily-0f-The-Valley - Sweetness; Tears of the Virgin Mary; Return to Happiness; Humility; You've Made My Life Complete

Larkspur symbolizes levity or lightness. It is also indicative of fickleness and haughtiness.

Lilac symbolizes youthful innocence and confidence. White lilac symbolizes humility and innocence, field lilac symbolizes charity while purple lilac symbolizes first love.

Lily symbolizes purity and refined beauty. White lily symbolizes modesty and virginity, orange lily symbolizes passion, yellow lily symbolizes gaiety while Lily of the Valley symbolizes sweetness and purity of heart. The Easter lily is the symbol of the Virgin Mary. Calla - Beauty, Day - Coquetry; Chinese Emblem for Mothers,  Eucharis - Maiden Charms,  Orange - Hatred, Tiger - Wealth; Pride,  White - Virginity; Purity; Majesty; It's Heavenly to Be with You, Yellow - I'm Walking on Air; False and Gay

Magnolia - Nobility

Marigold - Cruelty: Grief Jealousy

Mistletoe - Kiss me; Affection; To Surmount Difficulties; Sacred Plant of India; Magic Plant of the Druids

Monkshood - Beware; A Deadly Foe is Near

Moss - Maternal Love; Charity

Myrtle - Love; Hebrew Emblem of Marriage

Narcissus - Egotism; Formality; Stay as Sweet as You Are

Nasturtium - Conquest; Victory in Battle

Nuts - Stupidity

Oleander - Caution

Orange Blossom - Innocence; Eternal Love; Marriage and Fruitfulness

Orange Mock - Deceit

Orchid is a symbol of the exotic beauty. It symbolizes refinement, thoughtfulness and mature charm. It also symbolizes proud and glorious femininity. Love; Beauty; Refinement; Beautiful Lady; Chinese Symbol for Many Children, Cattleya - Mature Charm

Peony symbolizes bashfulness and compassion. It can also be used to express indignation or shame. It symbolizes a happy life, happy marriage, good health and prosperity. Shame; Gay Life; Happy Marriage

Palm Leaves - Victory and Success

Petunia - Resentment; Anger; Your Presence Soothes me

Pine - Hope; Pity

Poppy General - Eternal Sleep; Oblivion; Imagination, Red - Pleasure, White - Consolation, Yellow - Wealth; Success

Protea, King stands for change and transformation. It signifies daring and resourcefulness. It is symbolic of diversity and courage.

Queen Anne's Lace symbolizes a haven or sanctuary. It signifies complexity and delicateness.

Ranunculus symbolizes radiant charm. It conveys a message that you are radiant with charm or you are attractive.

Rose symbolizes love. It signifies love in its various forms. Its symbolism varies based on color, variety, and number. 

Primrose - I Can't Live Without You; Evening - Inconstancy

Rose:  Bridal - Happy Love, Christmas - Tranquilize My Anxiety; Anxiety, Coral - Desire, Damask - Persian Ambassador of Love, Dark Crimson - Mourning, Dark Pink - Thankfulness, Lavender - Enchantment, Orange - Fascination, Pale Peach - Modesty, Pale Pink - Grace, Joy, Red - Love, Respect, Single Full Bloom - I Love You; I Still Love You, Tea - I'll Remember; Always, Thornless - Love at First Sight, White - Innocence and Secrecy, White and Red Together - Unity White on Red Together - Flower Emblem of England, Yellow - Joy, Friendship

Rose Leaf - You May Hope,

Rosebud - Beauty and Youth; A Heart Innocent of Love, Moss - Confessions of Love, Red - Pure and Lovely, White - Girlhood

Roses  Bouquet of Full Bloom - Gratitude, Garland or Crown of - Reward of Merit; Crown Symbol of Superior Merit,  Musk Cluster - Charming

Red Roses: A red rose is an unmistakable expression of love. Red roses convey deep emotions - be it love, longing or desire. Red Roses can also be used to convey respect, admiration or devotion. A deep red rose can be used to convey heartfelt regret and sorrow. The number of red roses has special romantic meanings associated with them. 12 red roses are the most popular of all which conveys "Be mine" and "I love you"

White Roses: White is the color of purity, chastity, and innocence. White flowers are generally associated with new beginnings and make an ideal accompaniment to a first-time bride walking down the aisle. White flowers can be used to convey sympathy or humility. They also are indicative of spirituality. Hence, white roses also follow suit.

Yellow Roses: Yellow roses are an expression of exuberance. Yellow roses evoke sunny feelings of joy, warmth and welcome. They are symbols of friendship and caring. The yellow rose, like the other roses, does not carry an undertone of romance. It indicates purely platonic emotions.

Pink Roses: There are a lot of variations of the pink rose. Overall, pink roses are used to convey gentle emotions such as admiration, joy, and gratitude. Light pink rose blooms are indicative of sweetness and innocence. Deep pink rose blooms convey deep gratitude and appreciation. Pink roses also connote elegance and grace.

Orange Roses: While a yellow rose reminds us of the sun, an orange rose reminds us of a fiery blaze. These fiery blooms signify passion and energy. Orange roses can be used to express intense desire, pride and fervor. They also convey a sense of fascination. These flowers rival only the red roses as messengers of passion in romance.

Lavender Roses: A Lavender rose like its color conveys enchantment. It also expresses "love at first sight". Darker shades of lavender roses (close to purple) convey a sense of regal majesty and splendor. These roses are used to express fascination and adoration.

Blue Roses: A perfectly blue rose is still elusive like the perfectly black rose. Blue roses cannot be achieved naturally so they represent the unattainable or the mysterious. Blue roses, therefore, embody the desire for the unattainable. They say "I can't have you but I can't stop thinking about you"

Green roses: Green is the color of harmony, of opulence, of fertility. It is also a color indicative of peace and tranquility. Green roses (these are off-white roses with shades of green) can symbolize best wishes for a prosperous new life or wishes for recovery of good health

Black Roses: Black is the color of death and farewell. A black rose, like the blue rose, remains elusive. What we know as black roses are actually really dark red roses. Black roses convey the death of a feeling or idea. Sending black roses to someone indicates the death of the relationship.

Mixed Roses: By mixing rose blooms of different colors purposefully, you can create a bouquet of emotions. For example, a bouquet of red and white roses would mean I love you intensely and my intentions are honorable. A random mix of roses would convey mixed feelings or send a message: "I don't know what my feelings are yet but I sure do like you enough to send you roses."

Snapdragon symbolizes graciousness and strength. Its negative connotations include deception and presumption. Deception; Gracious Lady

Spider Flower - Elope with Me

Stephanotis - Happiness in Marriage; Desire to Travel

Statice is symbolic of remembrance. It also symbolizes sympathy and success.

Stock symbolizes lasting beauty and a happy life. It is indicative of bonds of affection and is symbolic of promptness. Bonds of Affection; Promptness; You'll Always Be Beautiful to Me

Smilax - Loveliness

Sunflower signifies pure thoughts. It symbolizes adoration and dedication. It is symbolic of dedicated love. It is however also symbolic of haughtiness.

Sweet Pea indicates delicate pleasure and bliss. It is a flower symbolic of departure after having a good time. Good-bye; Departure; Blissful Pleasure; Thank You for a Lovely Time

Tulip signifies a declaration of love. It also symbolizes fame and perfect love. General - Perfect Lover; Fame; Flower Emblem of Holland, Red - Believe Me; Declaration of Love, Variegated - Beautiful Eyes, Yellow - There's Sunshine in Your Smile

Violet- Modesty,  Blue - Watchfulness; Faithfulness; I'll Always Be True, White - Let's Take a Chance on Happiness

Viscaria -Will You Dance with Me?

Zinnia-  Magenta - Lasting Affection, Mixed - Thinking (or in Memory) of an Absent Friend, Scarlet - Constancy, White - Goodness, Yellow - Daily Remembrance

If you have any more plants I’ve missed or something you would like to add please do! This is just something to get us going a bit more and for some fun drawings before I’m unable to post them thanks to break!

[whispering-sumire755]

Tigerlily

Her mother hired her a driver and a bodyguard, though Laura didn't want it, said she'd be fine on her own, Talia didn't care, their family was in a precarious situation right now, and she'd be doing the same for Derek and the twins; Peter was only exempt because he was an adult who could take care of himself (and by that, Laura privately thought, what she meant to say was that Peter would totally emasculate and shred any ego and/or confidence the paparazzi/protesters had with his vicious words, if they were in public, and, if not, well. No one would miss them, he'd say, they must be vile people in their private lives to do such vile things in their public ones), and Philip because he was in Ireland with their father. Grouchy, Laura admitted defeat and accepted the burden of whomever her mother had hired, despite being two whole states away from the center of the chaos.

When she leaves her apartment, the first day she's being picked up by this person, she's taken utterly by surprise to see a buxom woman with honey-blonde hair in loose pig-tails tied up with big, sleek ribbons, a steampunk captain's hat atop her head, eyes like crushed nutmeg sprinkled with cigarette-ash flecks, wearing a white shirt and oil-slick black leather pants, her clothes clinging, like she chose them with the specific intention of showing off, standing in front of a pastel, antique Volkswagen beetle, looking for all the world expectant, bored, and vaguely amused in that same way Uncle Peter sometimes gets, like the whole world is a joke that only they're in on.

"You must be Laura," the woman- or, more accurately, girl, at least comparatively- says.

Laura laughs a little, nervous and slightly incredulous, "And you're my ride?"

Blondie flashes a grin, full-up of too many teeth, plumb-red tinted lips parting dangerously around too-sharp bone, an expression as seductive as it is terrifying. "That's right," she opens the backseat door and bows with a flourish, waving Laura inside the vehicle, "my name's Erica; our chariot tigerlily and I will be providing you all of your escorting and personal protection needs, as per your mother's- and therefore my paycheck's- request."

"Uh-mm," Laura laughs again, walking down the concrete steps and away from her apartment complex's entryway, stopping short when she gets to sidewalk proper, biting her lip and wringing her hands a little. Erica remains bowed, though she does turn her head to narrow her smokey eyes, the silken waterfall of her sunlight hair tangling with her neck, the black bow holding the pig-tail in place falling just under the girl's ear, contrasting the brilliant neon-chain piercings that decorate- nearly overwhelm- it. "Are you... old enough to be doing this?"

An explosive sigh as she rights herself, leans an elbow on top of the door and rests her cheek on her hand, its' opposite going to her hip with a half-resigned, half-sass sort of attitude. "Do you want to see my credentials? I've got about a dozen boxing medals, three belts, a nikyu rank in judo, and-" she does an asymmetrical kind of jazz-hands, underwhelming and seeming almost bored, like she's explained this thousands of times, before returning to her original position- "surprise surprise, a driver's license. I'm qualified, does my age really matter?"

"I... suppose not?"

"You don't sound too sure about that, princess."

Laura shakes her head with a little hiccup-squeak- a sound she will never admit to having made, and will quietly freak out about later, thank you- "Nope, I'm sure. I'm sure," and with that she skedaddles on into the car- as elegantly as she can manage, after everything- ignoring her driver's growing smirk with an awkward, embarrassed kind of desperation. She hears Erica huff out something of a laugh before the car door's shut gently behind her, the girl moving to the driver's seat and clambering in.

"So: where to?"

"Belle Grove Kindergarten," Laura answers promptly, mildly relieved to be done with the social niceties of it all.

"Oh, that's right, your mom did say something about you being a teacher." Laura hums affirmatively. "I hate kids, personally, but, you know-" she turns the key, starting the car and pulling away from the curb- "kudos to you for bringing knowledge to the next generation of assholes, or something like that."

Laura chokes on her own spit, and it takes a lot longer than she'd like for her to become composed enough to dignify that with a response, and all she ends up managing is a very high, very unsure, haphazardly chagrined and slightly sarcastic, "Thanks?"

She glimpses, from the rearview mirror, Erica's eyes crinkling with the mirth and width of her smile.

It's odd to learn about someone so extensively over such a short period of time, but, at the same time, it seems almost natural. There's awkwardness and blundering, but Erica and Laura just kind of click.

The wind-swept wild maiden, and the tamer, tranquil, motherly type of woman, both of them very, very different, but uniquely complementary to each other.

Erica, Laura finds, became a bodyguard straight out of highschool, her epilepsy- which she avoids talking about like the plague, so long as she can get away with it- made it difficult to become a driver in any capacity, but, her episodes winding down as she got older, along with finding meds to manage it that managed it well, or, at least, better than the others before, did seem help in that vein. Still, if she has even one seizure, it could revoke her license, which, while Erica understands, the safety of others and all that, she's also vaguely bitter about.

The girl's overtly sexual, voraciously flirtatious, with a mask of lethal confidence born from deep-rooted insecurities. She's very explorative of her identity at this point in her life because her identity always used to be her illness, and now that she has the chance to discover herself outside of that, she's diving in headfirst, reckless and urgent. She's a very in your face with both my middle-fingers in the air type of person, but there's a depth, a complexity to it, and a frugal kindness saturated in cynicism riding just underneath.

Her style, too, is fascinating, from her clothes to her car to the way she utilizes her language, and, despite mostly being a pacifist herself, if Laura's being honest the way Erica fights is... mouth-watering. Would be a vulgar thing to think. Which is why Laura isn't thinking it.

At all.

Erica taps the metal curl of her sunglasses against her teeth, glaring at the door that leads into Laura's apartment complex, impatient. She knows that the school-year is over, but she also knows that Laura isn't the type to have with staying inside or being idle. The woman likes fresh air and sunlight the same way flowers do, in that she needs it like breathing, could only wilt without it.

Which is why Erica ended up outside her place, figuring she'd still need a ride... somewhere.

Sighing explosively, she gets up off of her car, rubs the sun-scorched metal feeling out of her skin with a small grimace, and decidedly presses Laura's buzzer. No response. She clicks the button over and over again, irritating-persistent, pestering, until she hears a crash and an undeniably familiar voice shouting, "Cora, I swear to god—"

The aggrieved words halt, stutter, caught like fluttering-fragile butterfly wings in her long, pale throat, heterochromatic eyes startled-wide when they light on Erica—who'd backtracked down the small set of stairs, back to the sidewalk, to look up at the sight of her boss' daughter, her client, her friend, standing sleep-soft messy on her balcony. ink-silk curls in a loose-tumble bun, a slightly revealing preppy-pink satin slip under an unzipped hoodie, baggy sleeves sliding adorably over her bony hands, dream-like cotton-candy designs on it.

"Sorry to disappoint, princess," Erica smirks, watching as Laura's barefoot toes flex against charcoal grey floorboards.

Laura blushes furiously, rosy hue dusting her from her prominent collarbone all the way to her crown, getting ripe-strawberry dark just at the tip of her ears, and erica's helpless to the way her smirk widens into a genuine grin. "Not disappointed," Laura says, breezily, turning her eyes away and smoothing her hands down her skirt with all the air of recomposed royalty—the act betrayed entirely by her coloring and the high-pitch, embarrassed crackle of her tone. Erica bites back a laugh, scuffs the heel of her boot on the crack-crumble cement.

"You gonna grant me entry into your tower? Or am I gonna have to beg you to let down your hair?"

Laura's eyes flutter closed, tonguing the back of her teeth even as an indulgently mirthful smile overwhelms her. "You know... I shouldn't," she points out with a look, exasperatedly shaking her head even as she retreats back inside to buzz Erica in, fatalistic, calling over her shoulder: "You’re likely a dragon, come to kidnap me and burn me alive."

Erica rolls her eyes, jogs back up the little street-stairway, opens the door when it unlocks for her at Laura's bidding, before running up the three flights it takes to get to Laura's apartment, only the barest hints of breathless when she gets to the woman's door and sweeps inside. "No way am I a dragon. I'm more like... Excalibur," she leans into the woman's space, sultry-purr, "silver and sharp."

Laura backs away with a sound split between a groan and a sigh, "And just as dangerous."

"Not exactly," Erica hums, shutting Laura's door carelessly and meandering to the dining table, snatching an apple from the wicker-weave basket in the middle of its’ wax-shine mahogany expanse and biting into it. "The dragon kills you, princess, because it's hungry, driven by instinct, whatever. I, on the other hand, am wielded in your defence-" she shrugs- "or not. Maybe your evil step-mother picks me up and beheads you with me. My point is, as a weapon, I have no intent, good or bad." 

She looks up from her fingers, picking restlessly at blood-rich apple-skin to find Laura staring at her, expression indecipherable.

Silence reigns- vaguely uncomfortable- for a second too long. Erica blinks, knits her brows.

"... What?"

Laura shakes her head, "I— Nothing. Nothing, nevermind." She clears her throat, shuffles things around that don't really need to be shuffled, restless. "Um, so. What're you doing here?"

"My job, unless I was fired while I wasn't paying attention."

Laura huffs a little, glittering starlight returning to her eyes, "No; I'll have need of you for a while yet. But..." She shrugs, "I don't really have anywhere to go."

"Bullshit," Erica scoffs, narrows her eyes when laura's only response is a deadpanned glare. "Seriously? No... friends? social gatherings? nothing?"

*"Nothing,"* Laura sighs, nearly a pout, flopping lethargically onto her white-cotton plush couch. "Just the kids—work."

Erica blanks for a moment, fidgets, eats her goddamn apple.

"Okay," she shatters the vaguely somber air after a moment, annoyed, tossing her apple-core into the trash-can on her way to the couch before lifting Laura bodily off of it, hauling her into a bridal-carry easy as anything, and ignoring her yelp of utterly indignant shock. "Fuck this. We're going out."

Laura sputters for a moment, hands flapping a little wildly as Erica straight-up carries her past the threshold and- since the stairs don't seem like a good or practical idea- to the elevator, before she resignedly, almost begrudgingly, gives in, wrapping her willowy arms around Erica's neck and melting into her with a huff. "I suppose it wouldn't do to leave tigerlily all by their lonesome, anyway, would it?"

“No,” Erica agrees victoriously. “No, it would not.”

They spend the day driving around, avoiding paparazzi, getting frozen yogurt, a whole trunkload- literally- of books, two records, a record player, and a moment saturated in the floaty-fluff memory of dancing with Erica in the middle of the street, both of them a study in awkward clumsiness and both of them devolving into hysterical fits of laughter.

The image of Erica with her head thrown back, their bodies spinning, dizzying, her laughter throaty and reckless and breathless-wild, is replaying in Laura’s head on a loop when Erica walks her back up to her apartment, the sight of the girl's teeth, tongue, the roof of her mouth, unexplored places that Laura suddenly, yearningly, viscerally, wants to map out, discover, taste, know. Which is probably why, when Erica grins a, "G'night, Lulu," with every intention of leaving, Laura ropes her in- knuckles fisted in the collar of her shirt- and kisses her soundly.

Erica freezes for just the barest hints of a frantically eternal, terrifying moment, before she's all motion, folding Laura into her body with all the ease of a sculptor molding clay, fingertips, sharp nails, pressing into her shoulder blades as she dives into her in turn, greedy, with a gasping moan, wavering somewhere deep, all animalistic, ferine need.

When they part enough to allow air back into their lungs, lips bruised and spit-slick, Erica rasps, teased lovely, so fucking lovely at the edges, "That was-" a swallow, dry, clicking- "unexpected."

"No, it wasn't. It was a kiss. That's what you're supposed to do at the end of a date, isn't it? Kiss?"

Erica snorts, dissolves into giggles, lets her head fall to rest on Laura's shoulder, button-nose pressed into Laura’s pulse-point. "Yeah," she agrees, every muscle easing down to supple, pliant, and Laura hadn't even realized how tightly Erica was holding herself until now. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

"Come inside?" She asks, maybe begs, and Erica lifts her head, raising an eyebrow, which has Laura rolling her eyes. "To cuddle. Watch Netflix? Eat p—" she halts herself- because she knows, she knows how much Erica hates popcorn- squints her eyes at the ceiling for a second as she thinks, both arms wrapped around Erica's back, one hand absently playing with her puppy-soft hair. "Poptarts," she decides, finally, looking back down into Erica's eyes, only to be knocked entirely breathless by how much of the girl's naked heart is beating in them, joyous, honeycomb sweet, and glittering with something new, transcendent, something that, maybe, hopes to be love.

Erica catches whatever expression of besotted surprise Laura must be wearing with a kiss, like fireflies in a mason jar, says, "Sure. Poptarts sound good."

And Laura realizes, mostly accidentally, that she's now dating her best friend, and her whole world glows.

(When the political turbulence gets tied up, and the reason for Erica being hired concisely ends, she moves on to a new job, another client, but her relationship with Laura remains, grows, develops. The two women explore each other, their identities together, and, when Laura decides to bring the girl home to introduce her to her family- them road-tripping to BH in tigerlily- Erica brings a fruit-basket, which she bequeaths Talia, for essentially introducing them.)

[sunshineknight5]

Twinkie Chronicles 1

Oh hey, Pinkie Pie day was a thing, have some fluff

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight’s steps echoed down the hall of Canterlot Castle as she hurriedly walked towards the reception hall.  The guards gave a short nod as they opened the door for the approaching princess.

“They’ve been expecting you ma’am.”

“Thank you sirs.”

She pensively paced through the doors towards the royal sisters, glancing around nervously.at the occasional guard strolling through.  It was Celestia who first broached the silence.

“Something must indeed be weighing heavily on your mind for you to rush to see us with so little warning, though if Equestria is not in the balance perhaps you can sit and visit with us a while.”

“Visit with you perhaps, some of us have actual work to be done.” Luna added, gently prodded her sister with her wing.

“I’m afraid this visit is going to have to be a short one, I promised I’d be back for dessert, and you know how Pinkie is about promises.”  Twilight shuffled her hooves anxiously.  “Can we go somewhere more private?  This is something of a personal matter.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow curiously.  “Very well, let us continue in my study.”  She graciously stepped down from her throne and began leading through the castle halls, though Twilight needed no help finding the room she frequented as a filly.  A wave a nostalgia ran through her as sat down on one of the many pillows in the cozy room.

“Tell us Twilight, what is both urgent enough for immediate attention, but not enough as to be cause for alarm?  Were you jealous of your brother and have also come down with child?” Luna asked with a mischievous grin.

“What, no!” she sputtered.  “Though... Pinkie is involved.”

She paused, allowing Celestia’s gentle smile to renew her courage.

“Pinkie... has begun manifesting unicorn magic.”

The royal sisters could not have looked less surprised had Twilight spontaneously grew a second horn before them.

“Are you sure?” Celestia asked.

Twilight nodded.  “Yes.  It’s only basic telekinesis,no stronger than a school filly, but it’s definitely the same.  She’s even begun grasping the basics of magic theory instinctively!  I can’t find any records of anything like this happening and was hoping you might have some sort of answer.”

“This is certainly strange, but not completely unprecedented.”  Luna began.  “Princess Bluebelle had exhibited similar symptoms.”

“Bluebelle?”

“Ah, yes, you’re probably more familiar with her later name Bluebond.”

“...Princess Bluebond!?  The same one who started the great Cloudsdale reconstruction?”

“Indeed, the one and the same Twilight.  I see you are beginning to connect the dots as well.” Celestia jumped in.

“Does this mean Pinkie is... becoming an alicorn?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.  These are strange times we live in now after all, and Pinkie has been no stranger to the inexplicable.”

A wicked gleam shone in Luna’s eyes.  “Yes, for all we know this is merely a side effect of dating the princess of friendship.  We should compile a comprehensive list of your previous suitors.”  Her catlike grin widens further.  “I’m sure it will take quite some time to work our way through it.”

Twilight’s face flushed red with consternation.  “Just because I haven’t been spending my time on my dating life before now doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about it Luna.”

Celestia forcibly cleared her throat.  “My sister’s crassness aside, I feel it’s best for now to simply say nothing on the matter.  It’s too soon to say if she is at the brink of a metamorphosis and it would be best not to give her false hope.”

Twilight sighed in defeat.  “I guess you’re right, I can’t stand seeing Pinkie disappointed..Still, I’m glad this probably isn’t some strange disease or parasite.  I’ll tell her you weren’t sure either.”  She paused.  “The most convenient lies are the ones that are true I guess.  Thank you for your time princess.”  She began to make her way to the door only to stop short of it.  “Before I forget, Pinkie said to tell  you she has a great marble cake recipe she wants you two to try next time you visit.  Let’s just hope this one fits on the table.”

Twilight’s departure left the room quiet for only a few moments before barely restrained laughter poured out of Celestia. “You’re awful.”

“You’re still laughing.”

“I’m awful.”

“Then at least we can be awful together.”  Luna stretched her wings as she got up.  “I think I’ll set some time aside tonight to visit Pinkie, she may offer insights Twilight cannot.  Or at the very least have a fun dream to visit after a long night.”

“I believe that would be wise as well.  Sometimes she gets herself so wrapped up in her worries that she misses what’s right in front of her.  By the way, we got a basket of fresh blueberries today, would you like me to use some in breakfast in the morning?”

“That would be lovely.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Luna was prepared for many things as she entered Pinkie’s dream.  Cotton candy clouds.  Ice cream mountains.  Giant candy golems fighting to save Equestia.  She was not, however, prepared for something so orderly.  Before her stretched a grassy field overlooked by a large hill with a dozen Pinkie Pies flying through the air in formation while a dozen more appeared to be working spells on the ground.  Order was relative here.  On top of the hill was an alicorn Pinkie adorned with simple gold jewelry set with purple gems.  Luna spied a familiar star adorning her necklace as she landed next to her.

“If you’re looking for the real Pinkie, she’s down there watching the Pega-Pinkies.  Their job is to recreate all the flying she’s seen, ya know?”

“Self-aware dream constructs, huh?” Luna mused “It would seem you have a much clearer understanding of the situation than I gave you credit for.  I presume the ...Uni-Pinkies are recreating magic then?”

“Mhmm, they’re having a bit easier time with it though than the Pega-Pinkies.  She doesn’t know what wings feel like awake after all.”

“And what’s your job in all this?”

“To stand here and look fancy.”

Luna stared blankly at her.  “...Is that it?”

The alicorn Pinkie took a couple steps forward and stretched out her wings dramatically.  “I guess to be specific I’m ‘The Pinkie Who Could Be’.  I remind her why she’s going through all this trouble by standing here all princessly.”

“Many have dreams of being rulers of Equestria, but this is the first I have heard of such aspirations from you.”

“Oh, she doesn’t want to be a princess of Equestria, she just wants to be Twilight’s princess.” royal Pinkie turned and paused.  “Don’t let Twilight know though, she’s not always the best with these things.”

“Have you two not been together for over a year now?  I knew she had no experience with lovers before, but surely such thoughts would’ve crossed her mind by now?” Luna asked incredulously.

“Tell me about it,”  royal Pinkie snorted “I said we should just propose ourselves, but she’s afraid of scaring Twilight away.  What’s she got to be afraid of?  We’re already living together.” she said, stamping her hoof in frustration.

Luna chuckled.  “Perhaps the honeymoon?”

“Nah, she’s got that well and covered with all those awesome freaky fun time spells she’s been learning.  For someone who’s never had another date before she sure knows-” Pinkie’s sentence was swiftly cut short by Luna’s hoof.

“As, um, fascinating your relationship with my sister’s star pupil is, I don’t understand how it’s connected to being an alicorn.”

“Because alicorns are strong.” princess Pinkie stated.

Luna gestured for her to go on.

“Right, context, teeny-weeny bit important there.  Don’t usually need it when you talk to yourself.  Ever since Twilight became a princess, she’s saved me dozens of times.  I don’t wanna be her damsel in distress, I want to be her partner.”  Her voice began to soften.  “But I don’t have wings.  I don’t have magic.  I;m not even strong enough to shove those meanies away from her.  That’s why I decided last year I’m gonna train myself to be faster, stronger, and smarter so I can finally be able to protect her for once.  And not just Twilight, I wanna protect all my friends, including you Luna!”

“Me?” she asked quizzically.

“Yeah!  I was really sad when you told us what the Tantabus really was, you could’ve talked to me about these things, I’d listen.  I’m sure Celestia and Twilight would’ve too.”

“I-I see...” Luna stammered as the weight of the words sank in.  “I’m afraid there isn’t much time left before sunrise, so there isn’t any more time to talk tonight, but... I hope to see you again soon, my friend.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia cheerfully hummed as she sat a stack of blueberry pancakes on the table as Luna dragged herself in.

“Was it hard last night?”

“No harder than usual.” Luna yawned.  “If anything it was more enlightening than I dared hope it be.”

Celestia leaned in.  “Oh, how so?”

“Turns out she’s actually been secretly trying to become an alicorn for a while now, to the point of image training in her sleep.” She paused to take a few large bites.  “She thinks, these are really good, she thinks the best way for her to protect Twilight is to be an alicorn like her.  Doesn’t even want a crown, just a ring round that hoof.” She said while devouring the meal in front of her.

She paused for a minute while allowing everything to settle

“She... she called me her friend Tia.  I want to help her.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s said that for a while now.”

“Yes, but it’s different in the dreamscape.  I can feel the sincerity of ponies words in their dreams, how much truth they are weighed down with.  It has been a long time since I felt so blindsided by someone treating me not as royalty, but just another pony like they are.”

Luna stood up and gently looked her sister in the eyes.

“I can’t ignore someone trying so hard just to help our ponies.  Will you support me in this sister?”

“As a princess, I must warn you that nurturing such power could be quite dangerous for Equestria as a whole,” Celestia drew her sister in a close embrace “but as a pony, nothing warms my heart more than knowing one of the mares who brought you back to me is aspiring to such greatness.  You have my blessings to train her as you see fit.”

[junker-town]

I went to Disney on Ice and witnessed the evolution of the Disney Princess

I also maybe cried.

BROOKLYN — A tiny princess is wailing inside a giant plastic teacup. Her mother leans against it with one arm akimbo, mirroring the handle, and beams into the camera. The photographer waves a rattle behind the lens in a futile attempt to coax a smile out of the miserable toddler.

Zoom out, and you’ll see a sea of miniature royals, all pale pinks, blues, and yellows. Disney On Ice’s Dare to Dream show is about to start, and Barclay’s Center is packed for 11 a.m. on a Thursday. The entire pre- and elementary-school age population of New York seems to have skipped school to “celebrate what’s possible as five Disney heroines spark the courage inside us all.” Disney tells us we’re here “to find our inner hero.”

My seat is next to a woman named Tyra Brooks and her daughter Sanaa. It’s Sanaa’s third birthday, so Brooks and her husband, who live in Brooklyn, took the day off work to be here. Sanaa is obsessed with Moana, the lead character from the movie by the same name. On my other side sit Stacy Cruz, 27, and her little brother Wyatt, 9, who’s been begging to go to the show since he saw ads for it on TV. Cruz monitored tickets until she found these, which, at $15, she could afford. Wyatt skipped school in Manhattan, and Cruz took the day off from her two jobs nannying and working in retail. In front of me, Natalie Nunez from Queens and her daughters Melinda and Evelyn, who are four and nine, cheer as the lights dim.

Our master of ceremonies is a relentlessly positive woman on skates in a purple figure-skating dress and a blazer. She seems adamant that nothing has ever gone wrong that can't be made right. Happily Ever After is a destination, and this woman is on a mission to make sure we all end up there.

She announces Minnie and Mickey, and the place erupts. These kids scream for the two famous mice the way teens would react to Harry Styles, or whoever the Cool Teen Celebrity Du Jour is. Melinda, the four-year-old ballerina in front of me, grips the armrests of her seat, sways her torso back and forth, and shakes her head so violently that I think there’s a chance she’ll launch herself out of her chair.

Minnie and Mickey leave, and the Beauty and the Beast segment of the show begins. Gaston, the blow-hard who always made me uncomfortable as a child, shows up. He declares himself a handsome hero. None of these kids give a shit about him, but they go nuts when Belle glides out onto the ice holding a book.

You know the rest of the story; at the end, Gaston falls off the set in dramatic fashion, the Beast takes off his Beast costume under a cloud of dry ice and turns into a handsome man, and Belle finds true love. She closes her books and glides around with her prince to a love song that sounds like a Belinda Carlisle B-side and definitely wasn’t in the original movie.

The kids get a real kick out of the lifts and spins that these skaters are doing. Most of the performers were professional figure skaters; some Disney On Ice dancers have been Olympians. The actual athleticism on display here is impressive, beautiful.

Charlotte Wilder with a shakily-held iPhone

Cinderella’s story begins. She does her thing, and eventually the clock strikes 12. She skates away, thanks to the arbitrary curfew her asshole Fairy Godmother set. Our friendly MC — who’s been hovering at the edge of the rink while interjecting life lessons throughout the show — skates around to see if the glass slipper fits any little girls in the front row. It doesn’t. It also doesn’t fit the Ugly Stepsisters.

Did you know that in the Grimms’ Brother’s version, the Stepsisters cut off their heels so the shoe would fit? My mom used to read me the original fairy tales, peeling back the layer of frosting with which Disney coats these mostly-terrible stories. I loved them. They terrified me, but I was fascinated by the vivid descriptions, like the ones of the sisters’ mutilated feet bleeding all over the glass shoe. I couldn’t believe women would hurt themselves like that to be beautiful or loved. Or both.

Cinderella gets her prince. They dance around to another song that sounds a little bit like off-brand Tina Turner.

“No matter how mean, mean, mean everyone was, she was able to rise above bullying and bickering to be kind and hopeful,” says our MC. “She found her happily ever after, plus a cute new pair of shoes.”

“That’s bullshit!” I want to yell to the children around me. “Don’t just roll over when someone’s a dick! Stand up for yourselves! Buy your own shoes!” But I stay quiet.

We move on to Rapunzel from Tangled, a movie that came out after my childhood and which I haven’t seen. Rapunzel is still pretty damsel-in-distress-y, but she does whack a dude on the head with a frying pan in the first scene, which the kids (and I) get a total kick out of. There's also a horse comprised of two people — one for the front legs and one for the back legs. I’m not sure how they can see anything.

“There's a horse with two people and it's working?” Cruz marvels beside me. “Pretty cool.”

Rapunzel is sassier than Belle and Cinderella, but the story still ends with her skating off into the sunset with a prince.

It’s intermission. I leave my seat and pass a guy hawking lemonade and sno-cones instead of the usual beers Barclay’s sells. The floor is sticky with various forms of spilled sugar. I wait in line behind tens of princesses to use the bathroom, then go buy some cotton candy. The man asks if I want one with or without a crown. I say with, but it’s too small to fit my head, so I go back to my seat and give it to Melinda. It falls over her eyes and she giggles. Her mom takes it and puts it on.

Someone starts a chant — Elsa! Elsa! Elsa! — as the lights go down, and, indeed, here comes Elsa from Frozen. I haven’t seen this movie either (I should babysit more, or, like, have a child if I want to stay up to date), but I think the gist is that Elsa’s pissed at her sister for wanting to marry someone she’s only known for one day. In retaliation, Elsa turns all of Norway or wherever into a hellish winterscape using her magical powers. Then disappears and her sister has to find her.

It’s finally time for “Let It Go”, the hit song from Frozen which I somehow know all the words to. The crowd of children is singing along almost louder than Elsa is through her mic. Melinda and even little three-year-old Sanaa beside me know all the words.

Let it go, let it go That perfect girl is gone Here I stand!

Frozen’s abridged version ends and the MC spews a message about how truly loving someone means sacrificing everything you have for them, which, I mean, let’s all relax here, okay? Then Moana skates onto the stage and the screaming is more intense than it’s been for the whole show. I haven’t seen Moana either, but Google tells me it’s about a Polynesian girl whose grandmother has tasked her with saving her island and finding herself. The kids sing along to every word and dance in their seats. They — okay, I — take particular delight in a massive, sprawling crab with a sparkly shell whose costume seems impossible to skate in.

Charlotte Wilder

Sorry this picture is so shitty, but it was the best I could do

We meet a dude named Maui, who is not Moana’s love interest. I don’t think she has one, as far as I can tell. She’s just a determined girl who’s scared of the responsibility placed on her but willing to rise to the challenge. She overcomes her self-doubt as she sails around the ice rink on her motorized boat. Kids are screaming, “I AM MOANA!” as she sings, “I am Moana!” There are fireworks inside Barclays when she finally saves her island.

But hold on. I have to take you back to the first part of the show for a second, when Belle comes out and floats around the outer edge of the rink. She flips through the pages of her book, ignoring Gaston (and his puffed out chest) as he tells her he’s going to marry her. She begins to sing: “I want so much more than they have plaaaanned.”

Children are cheering, reaching toward the stage, and I, a full-grown woman, break down into sobs. I’m crying because these shows are money-grabs designed to make you feel. They are operations that strike at the core of your being with surgical precision: Turn the lights down here, crescendo up to a chorus and strike a soaring note there, insert a key change, spin some spotlights, make the heroines reach toward the sky with longing. Each element must’ve been focus-grouped and tested within a billion-dollar inch of its life to tug at specific ventricles of your heart. I am powerless against Disney’s execution of this emotional warfare.

But I’m also crying because I’m looking at all these little girls around me — earnest, excited, hopeful — and I want them to have more than anyone has planned for them. I want them to glide off into the bright lights with a prince the way Belle does, if that’s what they truly desire. But I also want them to throw an encyclopedia at the Beast’s head and start their own bookstore, if that’s what they’d prefer. I want all the Gastons of the world — because I know they’ll meet more than a few of them — to be taken down before they encounter them. I want this world to be more fair than it currently is.

And it must be said that Disney is, in its own way, changing.

Whether it’s because feminism sells these days, or because it’s what Disney thinks is The Right Message, the company seems to be Leaning In. The 30 minute cliff-notes of stories, and the order in which Disney On Ice chose to present them — from oldest to most recent— made Dare to Dream feel like a trip through the brand’s feminist awakening. We started with women whose only rewards are finding men, then moved on to a woman whose primary complication is her relationship with her sister, and ended with a girl who literally saves her entire people with the help of her badass grandmother.

“She persevered and never lost sight of herself,” says the cheerful MC of Moana, after praising Cinderella’s ability to land a man and new footwear an hour earlier. “That's what inner strength is all about. Be yourself!”

The princesses come out to take a bow. The kids give all of them, especially Moana, big cheers, but save the biggest for Mickey and Minnie. Then the skaters disappear. Melinda is clapping. Sanaa grins. So do their mothers. They’re in the Happily Ever After for a moment. But then the lights come up.