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anzu-kaiba · 4 years ago

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The Seven Labors of Mokuba Kaiba Easter Egg Explainer, Part 7/7!

I peppered The Seven Labors of Mokuba Kaiba, my recent 15-chapter, 60,450+ word Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfic (written for YGOME and NaNoWriMo) with all kinds of references. Some of them are just for fun, while others can help you get a sneak peek into future chapters or elements of the world.

READ THE FIC HERE

If it hasn’t been clear from the start of this series, brevity is not my strong suit, and many of these “Easter Eggs” are more like explainers for why I mentioned something a certain way in the fic, or my headcanons and the like. With that in mind...

See how many you spotted in Chapters 13-15!

As previously mentioned in Part 6, I did not expect the conversation about Mokuba questioning Seto’s telling of their biological family dumping them at an orphanage. Since I didn’t expect it, I also didn’t know what to do with it. How would Seto react to Mokuba, for once, questioning him and something so fundamental about their past? Would he just let thoughts whirl in his head and not take action, or would he do something, and if so, what? Since the two weeks until the actual exhibition weren’t as important outside of this unexpected revelation, I figured I could feasibly “time skip” it and work it out from there. Besides, the exhibition is where all the fun would be.

Seto’s dress shirt is supposed to be reminiscent of the one he wore in Duelist Kingdom:

@elfbean is damn talented artist for our fandom, and captures this outfit way better than any anime screen caps I could find. Imagine the tie for his suit in this fit is the color of his jacket here.

Yes, I actually spent a ridiculous amount of time looking up bowtie styles. I came to the conclusion that Mokuba would get a clip-on because actual ties make no sense, even if the whole “draped tie or bowtie around the neck” look is a thing for “after parties.”

So, the way I thought of Seto dealing with the family members that he thought “dumped” him and Mokuba at an orphanage was to throw the proverbial ball back into their court...of course, without having to put much emotion or effort into it, either. Unsurprisingly, Mokuba points out some “flaws” in his brother’s plan. I think as Mokuba ages, they get on more equal footing, regardless of the six-year age gap.

For some reason, I can’t see Seto celebrating his birthday regularly. I don’t imagine it being the kind of thing Gozaburo would have encouraged, either.

I like the idea of everyone needing to consider the importance of memory in this story. Memories aren’t perfect; they’re fallible, as Mokuba and Seto discovered. Memories are personal, but they’re also shared, as we found out from Anzu and Malik. And above all else, they have no meaning if you don’t give them one, if you refuse to think about the bad memories, or if you fail to give context to the good ones. Atem’s overall message about “moving on” is that memories are important, but it’s what you DO WITH THEM that matters most. It’s about who you become as a result of your experiences.

I came up with the name for the exhibition at the last moment. Autumn Glories are my favorite winter apple varietal! 🍎

The exhibition was my one last chance to describe everyone in suits, even if they’d appeared earlier in the story wearing some form of suit. So you get Jounouchi in a tuxedo, Yuugi in his suit, and Otogi in a black suit with a classic scarlet tie and pocket square. Others show up later, because why not? (Also you cannot convince me that Rishid would not look AWESOME in a suit.)

I don’t imagine that Kaiba went to any great pains to keep his birthday secret, but if he never celebrated it and it was never important to any news (outside of his takeover of Kaiba Corporation almost two decades ago at this point), then I think it makes sense that people would be surprised by Mokuba’s announcement that the exhibition coincides with Seto’s birthday.

Okay, who do you imagine screamed “I knew you were a Scorpio” and “Where’s the cake?”

I have no idea what amusing thing Leonhart was whispering to Malik. What do you think he said?

The dialogue in Seto’s speech isn’t important to the plot, and isn’t from Mokuba’s POV, besides. So Chapter 14 begins with a fair bit of exposition. Also I’m not a speechwriter, which is partially why Mokuba throws out his blank index cards and makes up his speech as he goes along, too.

When Seto is looking out at the crowd after he says “I believe if something is important to you, you should prove it,” he is looking to see if anyone unfamiliar is reacting: in other words, he’s looking for his estranged family members. Or maybe that message is meant to go out to others, too. If a dream is important, you should chase it. If relationships are important, you should prioritize them. If emotions are important, you should feel them. And so on.

One of the things I always thought was weird about the world of Yu-Gi-Oh! GX was the apparent emphasis on dueling only. It’s clearly meant to be a specialized high school, but do we ever see the students take any non-dueling classes, like Algebra, Physics, Home Ec? I haven’t watched enough of the series to be sure, but if we consider the original series, GX, and 5D’s to be in the same universe, clearly dueling becomes more of a hobby and a pastime and more of a world-changing method of interacting with special technology (and, as Arthur C. Clark put it, “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic”). So if the Academias started including more topics tangentially related to dueling, like Computer Science, Art, Solid Vision, etc., then I could see it being a practical/trade school that would actually be accredited, and people would WANT to send their kids to it.

The “one more thing” line is a reference to Steve Jobs. If there’s any modern CEO who seems close to Seto Kaiba, I’d prefer it be Steve Jobs over someone like Elon Musk. It’s fine to be known as an asshole, but also to be known for changing the world in a positive way. That seems like Seto Kaiba to me.

And since I made one Apple/Steve Jobs reference, why not go all the way, making an iPod nano reference with the new Duel Disks? I suck at drawing though, so the Duel Disk on the “cover” for the fic (see below) is just a regular Duel Disk from the GX/5D’s era. Just imagine it compacts into itself! 😆

I imagine the exhibition as being something like an [American] anime con, with panels, a Dealers’ Hall, a main amphitheater or arena, and scattered information booths and food stalls. But I have a fair bit of experience wandering around classy hotels, so I had to get Mokuba showing off the property somehow, especially if he (and Seto) essentially have a reserved penthouse suite in every Kaiba Hotel around the world.

The name for the fic-verse (the “Schmoozeverse”) is finally dropped. Roooollll credits! I know some Yiddish, but not a ton. I did attempt to teach some Yiddish words to my Japanese students while I lived there, and the results were amusing. Yiddish has syllables that simply don’t exist in Japanese.

The scarlet die used for Otogi’s Studio Dice is represented on the cover on the lower left corner. I tried to make it look “digital” by applying a sort of screen/glitch effect to it.

I didn’t know what the details of Mokuba and Leon’s joint entertainment venture might be, but I imagine they talked about it during their wanderings down the hotel hallways in the conference center.

Some characters in the Yu-Gi-Oh! series get several outfits. Ryou Bakura is one of them, and I based his suit design somewhat off his Duelist Kingdom look:

Imagine a lighter cerulean/teal than Seto’s dress shirt, and paired with a heather gray instead of a cream (since I had Leonhart wearing cream instead).

I spent a fair bit of time trying to figure out if Mokuba was present on the yacht going to the Ceremonial Duel, but no: he was not. But I imagine he heard about Ryou eating basically everything on board from somebody.

Initially, I did want to make Bakura a Tarot ViewTuber, but I figured he, like Malik, would want to move away from his past. That means letting go of losing Amane and his mother, and not spending his time wallowing in grief over all the things that Zork did while in his body. But pretending that those memories don’t matter isn’t Bakura’s style, so I had him still value the past in the form of art history. The hard part was figuring out how to make it work with Malik’s baking channel!

This is the color version of the tablet we all know so well. Now, I don’t imagine it would be easy to make a focaccia art bread version of this, but it would sure be fun! Here’s some focaccia bread art so you know what I mean:

This is from Not Quite Nigella, in case you’re interested in trying it for yourself!

Mokuba telling Leon “Us Kaibas... We can do anything” is a nod to another fic of mine, Tremors, where I have a younger version of him saying something similar to Anzu.

Technically Mai is in a skirt suit, so I count it as additional to the suit she wore when Mokuba first met her in Paris. I don’t have an image for this outfit, as I made it up completely, but you can bet I would wear it if it was real!

Mokuba wondering about what matters “at the end of the day” is a nod to the dub line Téa shot towards Kaiba after he defeated Yugi at Pegasus’ castle: “At the end of the day, what do you have?! Tell me!” and he responded (coolly): “I have all that I need.” (Yeah right, KAIBA!) What do you think would be easier for Mokuba: figuring out what he wants his family to be like now and in the future, or finding “the one” for him? What about for Seto?

An explanation for Yuugi’s screen name is given later in the story (similar to Pegasus’s Chirper name), but it’s basically a combination of one of his commonly used Duel Monsters and his birthday: June 4 = 64. Incidentally, it’s kind of geeky, if you think about game systems like the Nintendo 64 or 64-bit software.

I also spent a silly amount of time researching fruit arrangements/edible arrangements, and I figured based on the most commonly used fruits, level stars would be no problem.

The popcorn mix is meant to be a nod to Harry & David’s Moose Munch, one of my favorites:

Mokuba thinking that a Kaiba Hotel without a Duel Arena is “inconceivable!” is, of course, a nod to The Princess Bride.

Mokuba didn’t intend to say something that was a jab at Yuugi in pointing out that Mai isn’t the type to push aside her dreams for someone else’s sake, but this ends up being just why Yuugi no longer has a relationship with Anzu: in refusing to agree to work with her for Millennium, she chose to pursue her dream in the performing arts over continuing to stay friends with Yuugi.

I can understand why some people might think that’s out-of-character for Anzu, but I promise to delve into it further in other future fics in the Schmoozeverse, particularly Love and the Art of Schmoozing.

I may have mentioned it in an earlier chapter, but this fic takes place during Season 2 of Yu-Gi-Oh! GX, so Edo Phoenix and Jun Manjoume are still at Duel Academia. Edo is already a Pro League duelist, but Jun is now his mentee, since he won the Genex Tournament and is on track to be a Pro Duelist without any interference from his brothers who run the Manjoume Group.

GX is also the series where we finally started seeing Duel Disk models faaaar beyond the Duel Disk Mark II (Battle City) and Chaos Duel Disk (from the Doma arc of the anime) from the original series. I don’t really count the dia’dhanks or whatever they were called from the Egypt arc, though. But in GX, we got multiple colors, all kinds of different shapes, bejeweled Duel Disks... it was a whole thing.

With Jounouchi and Seto discussing the “Special Summon,” I finally reveal that the exhibition serves as the launch point for Synchro Monsters. I hinted at it before, with Pegasus painting what will eventually be named the Stardust Dragon, but by the time of 5D’s, it’s not like anyone acts like Synchro Summoning is NEW. There does seem to be an attitude that people from Satellite (old Domino) shouldn’t have Synchro Monsters, but maybe that was just Ushio?

The other “best dressed” Pro Leaguers are referring to Genex Tournament participants or other well-dressed Duelists from Yu-Gi-Oh! GX:

Sommelier Parker:

Edo Phoenix:

Mathematica:

The cards that Jounouchi uses don’t actually exist, but they are based on real Egyptian gods: Aker and Wepwawet. I based the rest of the card names on the format of other Egyptian Gods and Synchro Monsters (e.g., Ra, the Sun God Dragon; Obelisk, the War God; Osiris the Heavenly Sky Dragon; Gaia Knight, Force of Earth).

“Never tell me the odds!” is a nod to Han Solo from Star Wars. It seemed an appropriate line for Jounouchi to say against an opponent who relies on calculations to win games of Duel Monsters, and math isn’t exactly Jounouchi’s strong suit.

I also invented Jounouchi’s Synchro Summoning “spell,” which seems to be a theme of sorts in Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D’s. It’s not exactly a special spell or requirement to Synchro Summon, but something all the main characters do, and I figure it had to originate from somewhere, and why not Jounouchi being a showman?

Destiny Breaker, Stormlight Beast Set is a nod to the Egyptian God Set that both Seto and his Ancient Egyptian counterpart, Priest Seto (or Set) are named for. He’s not an “evil” god, per se: he’s actually associated with storms, chaos, and a mysterious mishmash of animals that archaeologists to this day have not been able to fully identify. Framing it as the one who “breaks Destiny” seems like a very Seto thing, and “Stormlight Beast” just sounds cool to me.

I imagine Asuka from Yu-Gi-Oh! GX would probably admire Mai a lot, and might be one of the duelists asking for her to autograph her Deck Box or similar.

Speaking of Japan elevating food to an art form, I am very much not kidding. Aside from the fake food you might see outside of Japanese restaurants that looks suspiciously real...

...there’s also food that is MEANT to be eaten that looks astonishing:

Chocolates from Nagayoya

Wagashi, sweet treats generally made for use with tea ceremonies. Made with natural ingredients and colors; a sort of culinary haiku, if you will!

I’ve never actually seen anyone make a Duel Monsters bread, but I do think it would be fun if people decided to be innovative with the ingredients based on the dragon in question. Some of them might be a bit challenging, though... (what the heck would be a Stardust Dragon loaf, anyway?!)

As with Mokuba’s speech, I couldn’t come up with an excuse for him to pull Seto away from whatever he was doing at the exhibition after the Synchro Summon reveal and the Duel Disk nano demo, so I just had him be intentionally vague and “surprise” Seto that way. But actual screaming “surprise!” might trigger Seto, so he emphasized NOT doing that, but still throwing a birthday party.

While it’s never really brought up at all in the dub, I’ve always found it strange that some of the characters are great friends, but call each other by their surnames. What would it take for Seto to get to the point of asking others to call him “Seto” and not Kaiba? I figure something like what happened in the car with Mokuba would be one possibility.

In Japan, the honorifics you use with others says a lot about who you respect (and vice-versa). Canonically (in the anime), Mokuba and Seto generally don’t use honorifics with anyone. Yuugi uses “-kun” with Jounouchi and Honda, appropriate for someone in his age group (and typically used with males), but doesn’t use an honorific with Anzu. Jounouchi and Honda typically don’t bother with honorifics at all, especially for people like Kaiba (which is intentionally insulting) or Mai (which implies closeness). Surprisingly, Anzu has always referred to Mokuba and Seto (as Kaiba) with a -kun, implying she has more respect for them than any of her other friends do, or that they do for her. (Actually, of the two brothers, Mokuba is the only one who has ever actually referred to Anzu by name.) Seto asking others to call him by his given name is actually a pretty big deal.

If a book on dragons in art exists, I haven’t found it (yet). But here’s a cool blog post on the topic! There’s also a pretty interesting feature on it from Google Arts & Culture.

The travel guide Yuugi gives to Seto is based on the one Juudai and a few other Duel Academia students used during their visit to Domino during the events of Yu-Gi-Oh! GX during Season 2. It’s written by Sugoroku, which explains why it contains insights into many of the iconic duels of the original Yu-Gi-Oh! series, including the unofficial and very dangerous duel between Jounouchi and Yuugi at the docks. The way I see it, Yuugi used it as a template to make a scrapbook of sorts. The second season ending theme for the Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters anime, The Afternoon of that Day, as sung by Masami Okui, shows a number of photos collected throughout Yuugi’s adventures, so I thought it made sense for him to give that kind of gift:

youtube

As Mokuba brings Seto up to their hotel room and is thinking about the gifts everyone gave, wrapping up with Yuugi’s gift of the guidebook, I imagine he’s plotting how he can get Anzu and Yuugi to talk again. We’ll see how that works out in Love and the Art of Schmoozing.

Mokuba not knowing what he wants is also a theme of this story; he finds it while also helping others find the things/experiences they want. I have him pose some questions to Seto that he fully doesn’t expect either of them to be answering over the next year, but maybe in the next five years...

Not sure if I actually want there to be a reconnection between Seto, Mokuba and their biological family over the next five years of the stories in the Schmoozeverse, but I feel like it’s too important of an event to happen “off-screen.”

I could have ended the story after Mokuba finally presented the painting and Pegasus’ Synchro Summon card gift for Seto, but I felt like there were still a few things left to wrap up: Malik getting to apologize to Anzu; Mokuba trying to convince Anzu to work for Kaiba Corporation; Anzu getting to punch somebody (one of the prompts), and some epistolary (letter-style) fun regarding the Ishtars’ trip to Germany.

Here’s what the “over-the-top” bouquet Mokuba, Leon, and Malik give to Anzu after her show:

This is the Give Thanks bouquet from Strelitizia Flowers in Davis, CA. It features sunflowers, roses, cremones, safflowers, and Asiatic lilies, all in season during the fall. Incidentally, sunflowers are some of my favorite flowers.

I couldn’t really picture any of the characters holding a grudge against Malik or Bakura —not for long, really. So while it may seem a little too perfect to have Jounouchi, Mai, AND Anzu all fine with him, I did want to make it clear, he had to work for it. He needed to apologize and be clear with what he did, and who he wanted to be in the future, and that includes living up to promises he makes to all of those characters he harmed during Battle City, in ways I imagine are long-lasting.

The “pretty boys” Mokuba is attempting to count are: Malik and Ryou to start, but also himself, and, jokingly, Jounouchi (maybe?)

I imagine Ryou would have a Patreon or a ViewTube Membership for sharing his art history insights, and maybe some of his own original art, preservation techniques, or similar.

I gave Anzu several outfits throughout the story, but here’s the inspiration for her suit at the end, albeit with an added pearl-white blouse and thin gold belt. Understated, but very Anzu, IMO.

I started watching Isekai Izakaya sometime before I finished the final chapters of The Seven Labors of Mokuba Kaiba, so it somewhat influenced my mental image of the restaurant/pub that Anzu and Mokuba ended up at. There are definitely a number of “hole in the wall” eateries throughout Tokyo, even in the fancier parts, and the food is not to be missed! While the “Taisho” in this story doesn’t resemble Nobuyuki of Isekaya fame, he is meant to be this tall, imposing guy you don’t want to mess with. Having a personal relationship with the local authorities meant I could write my way around Mokuba or Anzu needing to go into a police station to explain who/what Jean-Claude Magnum was doing, or Anzu socking Jean-Claude ending up in the media and derailing her career transition.

Writing this story meant I learned quite a bit about the production of a Broadway musical, even if those details would never really make it into this (or even the subsequent) stories. The idea of Anzu acting as a co-writer/producer, choreographer, AND dance captain while also playing her role in the show is amazing, and goes even beyond what Lin-Manuel Miranda did for Hamilton, especially considering none of the original Broadway cast went on tour, let alone adapted the show for other languages like Japanese, Korean, and Chinese the way I have Anzu in this story. So yeah, no surprise she’s retiring at age 30.

Don’t ask me how Jean-Claude Magnum found them at this hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Tokyo. For the sake of story, he just did. Also he seemed like the most qualified person to need a sock in the face in this story. I couldn’t imagine Anzu socking Malik after everything he’d done, since I can’t picture her being a violent grudge-holder after so long. So who else would piss her off? Someone who has no respect for the performing arts industry, someone who tried to harm her friends... someone like Jean-Claude Magnum, who was never properly dealt with following his one-off duel against Mai during Battle City.

Anzu punching a gold filling out of Magnum’s mouth is inspired by her clocking a zombie professor in the early chapters of the Yu-Gi-Oh! manga. With a globe. OUCH.

Originally I thought about Anzu asking Mokuba to chaperone her (secretly) on a blind date that would turn out to be Jean-Claude Magnum (or otherwise interrupted by him), and make the restaurant fancier, but I decided that it would be more trouble than it’s worth. The only way Mokuba could have avoided the scene getting publicized online and causing a scandal for both him and Anzu would be if he somehow hacked every single person’s phone AND whatever security existed in the restaurant, and that just seemed a a bit much for me. So I went with a smaller venue and a neighborhood relationship instead. Too bad, Mokuba, I’ll let you use your CompSci degree in a cool way in another story!

Pretty sure I stole “get set to get decked” from a later Yu-Gi-Oh! character (Yuma from zeXal?) but it was too funny not to include here.

I was worried about different fic archives stripping out the “email addresses” I made up for Malik and Mokuba, or the filenames I wanted to imply as image attachments, so they have some odd spacing in them. I would love to see your fan art rendition of these pictures! A beer bread Malik made; Rishid, Isis, Malik, and Leonhart in the von Schroeder castle’s main hall; them spelunking in a nearby cave; at the top of the tallest mountain in Germany; and probably making some sort of funny face(s) while sampling chocolates on a tour. Rishid is supposedly smiling (fully) in one of these photos, so I’ll let you decide which one that is. It’s a bigger smile than the one Mokuba saw during the exhibition.

The freak snowstorm in Cairo in December of 2013 really happened. It wasn’t enough to blanket the Sphinx in snow, or cover the pyramids in white, but it did leave a significant amount in Cairo proper, and some people did make small snow sculptures.

From The Baltimore Sun’s Darkroom

I don’t think I’d ever have what it takes to be a YouTuber, seeing as just trying to figure out live-streaming almost gave me a headache. But even if someone’s good at one aspect of it doesn’t mean they’re great at the others; it’s definitely a business model now, and I figure a more or less solo operation like Malik’s might encounter some bad actors (multimedia companies that take advantage of solo ViewTubers), much the way some have in the real world. So Mokuba’s interest in the entertainment industry could involve forming an agency to support ViewTubers like Malik.

One of the prompts did mention that Chaseshipping (Otogi x Honda) would make them happy, so I did a “hat tip” to it with Otogi saying he loves Honda. It’s meant in a more close friend/platonic sense, but I can see them as being as close as Jounouchi and Honda were, at one point. In a sense, they were united by their “chase” after Shizuka, but in the eternal words of Princess Jasmine, Shizuka is “not a prize to be won!” So the fact that she ends up with Honda in this story is incidental, and has nothing to do with why Honda and Otogi may have drifted, and certainly will not stop them from reconnecting as friends. I wanted to try and do something similar with Visionshipping (Mai x Isis), but I couldn’t think of a good way to do it, especially if I didn’t want Mai to be a Pro Duelist anymore; she never quite seemed happy pursuing that path, and I wanted her to be able to feel okay going after other opportunities that interested her.

Aaaand... that’s it! You’ve reached the end! 🎉

Thank you for taking the time to read these posts, if not The Seven Labors of Mokuba Kaiba. I hope you’ll join me when I have the chance to add to this “Schmoozeverse” with other fics, including Love and the Art of Schmoozing as inspired by @kaibacorpintern.

Please, please, please comment on the story with your thoughts. They matter so much to me and seriously keep me writing.

I’m still slowly posting the chapters to FFnet over the coming days, and I have some minor edits I’m applying to the chapters on AO3, mostly having to do with weird formatting glitches and misspellings; nothing serious.

Thanks again.

Love always,

Azurite

#azurite #7lmk #fanfiction #yu-gi-oh #ygome20 #nanowrimo #mokuba kaiba #ao3 #archive of our own #schmoozeverse #ygome

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sleepyssnail · 7 years ago

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Logan’s Log Entries: Chapter One

Chapter One Chapter Two, Personal Note #1, Chapter Three, Personal Note #2, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, MASTERPOST

Chapter One Summary: Logan thinks he talks too much.

Pairings: Platonic into Romantic LAMP/CALM later on

Warnings: None in this chappie

Words: 854...yes I did a word count

Taglist: @morganlafley

To be added or removed from the tag list, please message me or send in an ask!

March 30th, 2018.

Theory: I talk too much.

Evidence: I am frequently told to be quiet, I am spoken over, or I am ignored.

Example One: I was explaining the issue of adopting three dogs to Patton (who was not listening as he was far more focused with something on my face) when Roman interrupted and told me to, “Talk less, smile more!”

I did not appreciate the comment as Patton quickly burst into song with Roman and my conversation was thrown in the metaphorical gutter.

Example Two: Halfway through watching a documentary on the stars with Virgil, I elaborated on the mythology of the constellation of Orion’s Belt and the difference between the Roman tale and the Greek tale. No more than 45 seconds passed and Virgil stared at me in what could only be bored silence.

I resumed the show and his attention immediately returned to the documentary with far more interest than when I presented my small rant.

Solution: Take part of Roman’s advice and talk less. Refrain from speaking unless directly addressed or if Thomas’s safety would be compromised without my input. Try not to lecture the others as much, and if necessary make it as quick and concise as possible in order to keep their attention.

March 31st, 2018.

Experiment One: All throughout breakfast I did not contribute anything to the conversations. Nobody noticed until Patton knocked his juice on me in a moment of over-excitement. While assisting me in cleaning up the mess, he briefly asked if I was alright, to which I gave a small reply followed by a cautionary warning that he needs to be more careful so as not to accidentally hurt anyone. From there I retreated to my room to work on fixing up Thomas’ schedule, and I did not have any other interactions.

April 1st, 2018

Experiment Two: It is April Fools day and Easter. The pranks went by rather quickly today, however, a few ill-timed whoopie cushions and a plastic wrap on the doorway trick did evoke several verbal outbursts on my part. By not speaking after the early pranks, the others believed me to be angry and seemed on edge around me. I did get my revenge as I personalized my pranks to suit each of them. Without saying anything other than the traditional, “April Fools,” I pulled a toy spider along the ground near Patton, put a sticker of my face on Roman’s hand mirror, and switched Virgil’s music to Beyonce when he wasn’t looking.

Patton and Roman decided then that the pranks were over and insisted that we celebrate Easter with the ridiculous traditions of coloring eggs, eating sweets, and decorating the place with pastel colors. All in all, my lack of verbal communication seems to have gone unnoticed and has, from my current observations, not caused any significant issues.

April 2nd, 2018

Experiment Three: I did not participate as much as I would’ve liked to in today’s brainstorming activity. Throughout it, I noticed the different reactions and behaviors of the other sides as I essentially. “sat back and watched.” Things went quickly downhill as the voice of reason (myself) was removed from the picture.

Observation One: Virgil had a difficult time trying to convey his opinion with support, as I am usually the one who can see past his overprotectiveness and explain his valid reasons to the other two overly emotional sides. Without my assistance, Virgil because restless and anxious.

Observation Two: Patton spoke loudly and halfway through the discussion realized I hadn’t uttered a word. He then began to ask questions directly in accordance with my function, even going so far as to say that they needed my opinion on whether the proposed project would be ideal to fit into Thomas’ schedule while taking into consideration Joan, sleep, healthy lifestyle practices, and social outings.

Observation Three: Roman began presenting the most outlandish ideas to us, and when I did not shoot any of them down or even critique them, he began to embellish and expand them until Virgil’s hands were noticeably shaking from the thought of all the preparation, time, and energy it would consume. With no other alternative, I quickly pointed out the flaws in Roman’s creative plan while still praising the idea itself.

April 3rd, 2018

Personal Observations: This is the fifth day of my experiment and I have reached a conclusion. Although I talk too much and cause tension within the group, when I do not speak at all the others will over stress, worry or forget about the constrictions of reality, all of those will put Thomas in danger. Although I have not told anyone of my experiment, in the last day they have noticed my behavior as being slightly off and have taken to worrying about me slightly.

Conclusion: Although I find their attention towards me adequate, I will end this experiment today so as not to negatively impact Thomas or cause issues for the other sides.

Notes: By not speaking, I caused some disruption but I believe that moderating the amount I speak by reading the mood would be beneficial as it would force me to listen to the others.

#logan sanders #logic sanders #sanders sides fic #logan's log #thomas sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #my writing #my fanfic #my fanfiction #i tried #ssnailstuff

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supergirlimaginesfic-blog · 7 years ago

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Dating Lena Luthor (Everyday can be our Valentine’s)

Request: Prompt Lena x reader, the reader forgot it's Valentine's Day and Lena is mad because it's her first time celebrating valentines. So reader does a surprise romantic date night

a/n: Ahhhh this was so cute to do LOL. I was thinking about this all during work wondering wth I was gonna do with this!! Firstly, I don’t really think Lena would be angry, per se, so I switched this up just a tiny bit! There’s a funny little easter egg I put in here because I’m absolute katie trash, tell me if you find the Funny Joke. Thanks for reading btw y’all! You give me something to do lol. Requests are always open, and I’ll get to them hopefully every other day!

- - - - -

So maybe you were a little bit of an asshole. Actually, you are definitely the tiniest bit an asshole. You’re a good enough person, and you show basic human decency because you surely weren’t raised to be a farm animal with no manners. You’d even go so far as to say you care about people if they’re really hurting enough for you to feel compelled to get into that uncomfortable place of relating to them and having to comfort them.

You’re a bit rough around the edges, you’d admit it. You’ve had a grand total of 3 and a half arguably serious relationships in your very eventful, very promising life so far and it’s not like you were emotionally stunted for the entirety of them all, not really. Sometimes you’d admit you are a pretty emotionally constipated person - you lose track of your days as often as you lose track of your housekeys, and if someone asked you to retell something from last week, well, you’d let them know that frankly you don’t even remember what the last thing you ate was. But you knew how to make your girl smile and that’s what counted. You’re kinda good when it comes to the bigger stuff. That’s all that should matter, right?

When you walked into CatCo for work in the morning, you greeted everyone who’d spare a glance at you, even spent some time making small talk with some of your deskmates. There was a restlessness in the air that made you think people were even itching to talk to you. Everyone had seemed peppier today more than usual. That was surely a weird thing to note, even for a place like CatCo (especially for a place like CatCo). There was an abundance of flowers sitting on desks and because Miss Grant has a very vocal opinion-decreed-official-but-not-really-official-policy regarding cheap-smelling things in her offices, even when arguably flowers are the most natural scent in the world (how possibly can they be cheap?), all the bouquets and arrangements were relegated to a place by their desk inhabitant’s feet where they could be admired in relative peace.

For what it was worth, the place seemed more alive than it ever has been - not that Miss Grant was the worst person to work for, quite the contrary, everyone was just too intimidated or outright terrified of her that any semblance of fun was overpowered by the fear of messing something up. Miss Grant was nice, in her own quiet, borderline abrasive but never power hungry way. You could tolerate just one day of people being in a good mood.

You felt a slight gust of wind blow your way as you sat at your desk, and you really ought to think you should warn Kara about slowing down her speed just a notch more.

“Hi! (Y/N)! Golly it’s a great morning isn’t it. Oh, why aren’t you wearing red?”

“Kara, does it look like I own any coloured clothing other than black? Anyway, why would I?”

Kara’s eyes widen comically and she inhales sharply, and you almost dismiss it as another purely Kara Thing. You take note of her white pants and pink blazer, unbuttoned to reveal a simple white button up, and you grudgingly concede that this nerd always looks so stupidly cute.

Before you could get yourself irrationally angry at the multitude of Kara’s Preppy Looks, you wonder if Miss Grant has a special occasion that you didn’t get the memo for.

“Wait, is something happening today? Did Miss Grant finally acquire that small-town newspaper outside of Metropolis?”

Kara tilts her head at you, fully reminiscent of a confused child, and her eyebrow quirks ridiculously high up that it could disappear into her hairline.

“Hm, that’s not right. I would have heard about that one. I know she was saying how everyone should dress in red to symbolize the blood spilled of her competitors, but even that’s a bit much.” You say more to yourself than to Kara.

Kara opens and closes her mouth, and opens and closes it again seemingly at a loss to say something as she squints very severely at you. Your eyes widen marginally, taken aback by Kara’s silent assessment.

“Are you alright? Did I offend you or something?”

Kara’s jaw drops as she gasps indignantly. You were only half-kidding but you think you might as well have offended her unwittingly at some point in your very brief conversation.

“Seriously, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I really hope you’re joking.” Those words were startlingly ominous, and especially so coming from someone like Kara.

“What the hell do you even mean? Kara-”

Before you can ask any more of her, Cat Grant’s voice reverberates through the office. It’s impressive, considering she’s a good thirty feet away from you and inside an enclosed elevator when she speaks up.

“Keira, please tell me you found out who plastered that cheap Wal-Mart stock paper heart onto my window and that you have collected their resignation letter. Do not think that because I’m not here I don’t have eyes everywhere. I can practically smell the cheap scotch tape sticking eternally to my windows.”

“No DIY decor, already on it, Miss Grant. But don’t you think that’s a bit-”

Kara follows after Miss Grant, falling into step behind her rather impressively as Miss Grant hands off her coat to Kara and Kara hands her latte to her, balancing various papers, clothing, and a bag in her arms.

Why is everyone so weird.

You boot up your computer and check the messages on your phone while you wait. An unread message from Lena fills your screen.

Lena: “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

You smile at your girlfriend’s simple text. You know it’s tired and not very fair to keep having presumptions of your girlfriend based solely on her career, but you can’t help it. She’s a softie and an absolute sucker for romance and you never would have suspected it - certainly not the first few times she’d spent the night at your place and she’d untangle her hair from her high bun, shucking off her heels and stripping off her CEO persona. It always mesmerized you, it still does, which is why you’re smiling at your phone like an absolute nerd at her easy vulnerability when it comes to you.

you: “I can’t wait to see your beautiful face, pretty lady ;) Don’t make my day any more difficult than it needs to be...”

You remember all too well the very incriminating texts that have recently bombarded your phone with startling frequency. Lena being her own boss certainly had its perks, and spending an awful amount of time sending suggestive messages and downright not-safe-for-work pictures certainly was a perk in itself.

You’d wondered how often anyone would see you looking around suspiciously with the biggest shit-eating grin on your face. It begged the curiosity of who knew you were practically sexting sometimes? You figured you were probably a bit obvious, Kara has spent her fair share of your shift grimacing and blushing furiously whenever you meet her eye. It’s strange because it’s not like part of her powers involves mind-reading, did it really not take a genius to figure you out? Maybe with her super hearing and- oh. That might explain a little bit. In fact, that might explain a lot. Gross. You are not going to broach that conversation with her.

Lena: “Hmmm, that’s no fun...”

You smirk down at your phone. It is far too early for this teasing bullshit, but Lena Luthor lives on her own time and the universal conventions of decency wait for no one, apparently.

Lena: “What if I’m in the mood to be bad?”

you: “I guess I’d have to teach you a lesson about what happens when you tease me all day”

Lena: “It’s settled, let’s call it a date.″

you: “you’d call anything we do a date, love LOL”

Lena: “Well then let’s make it extra special tonight ;)”

you: “looking forward to it, you big nerd”

You finally amend to put to your phone, seeing as though you spent a good few minutes flirting with your girlfriend instead of working. You figure even someone with as much money as Cat Grant wouldn’t appreciate you fooling around on company time.

“Ooooh, texting a fancy someone?” Winn’s voice comes from behind you as he swirls around to face you in his swivel chair.

“Yeah, weirdo.” You roll your eyes amused as Winn feigns hurt, but he continues nonetheless.

“Cool, you guys got any romantic plans tonight? Lena must be wicked excited.” He quirks his eyebrows suggestively, and you reach over to hit him on the arm hard enough to make him yelp.

“Gross. Even if we were I wouldn’t tell you anything.”

“Aww aren’t we superfriends? Don’t we go to share super secrets?”

“Definitely not of the bedroom variety.”

“Ah fine, I don’t think I want to know anyway. J’onn and Kara must try so hard to tune out all the adult stuff you and Lena get into whenever you guys are chilling at the DEO.”

You grimace and tune out whatever else Winn was about to say, “Oh god.”

“Really, you guys have no PG plans tonight? No extravagant displays of luxurious affection or cute date outings?”

“No, Winn. Why are you and Kara so interested in my life today anyway?”

Winn stares blankly at you before chuckling and turning back towards his computer. “Ah, ah okay! Sore topic. Sorry to pry. Just know I’m your pal, alright? You can tell me all the things.”

“Yes, rest assured, you are my pal, Winn.” You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head at your interaction.

You’d become quite busy the next few hours, all the bustle and general strangeness of the day wearing off as the remaining CatCo employees that stuck around waited until they could go home. You finally had a chance to lean back and check your phone’s notifications.

Lena: “When are you coming home? I miss you.”

you: “lol you’re so cute. Soon babe, don’t worry. Just a few things to finish up here. Are you done yet?”

Lena: “Yes, I managed to finish all that I needed today. I let Jess go early too, she’s got a cute date of her own.”

you: “oh man, no way! Is he cute? Is he worthy?? Is he an asshole? Do we need to threaten him?”

Lena: “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re more excited about Jess’ plans than ours. I’ve no clue, I merely assumed. Though she was acting particularly off today come to think of it.”

you: “you too eh? People were so weird today. More than they usually are. It must be a full moon.”

Lena: “I’ve no doubt that must be it. Tell me when you’re about to leave, darling. I’d very much like to get out of these restrictive clothes.”

you: “what? You won’t let me help you out??”

Lena: “If you take too long, you’ll regret far more than just that.”

Lena: “I will see you soon <3″

If you rushed to pack up a little quicker than you usually would and took off at a speed that could rival Kara’s, you’d never admit it to anyone. In your haste, you still managed to text Lena once you got into the packed streetcar and were notified that she was just on her way to yours from her apartment.

You had the chance to clean up your apartment a bit and get into your comfiest trackpants and your favourite hoodie when you heard knocking on your door. You opened the door and smiled as you opened your arms to your girlfriend. Lena immediately walked into your embrace and wrapped her arms around your middle, sighing happily as she did.

“You smell nice.”

“Thank you, I just got back from work.”

“And did work have half an army’s worth of perfume sprayed throughout the entire office to attract potential mates today?” She smirks as she makes her way around you to put her things away and make herself at home.

“I thought you said I smelled nice.”

“You do, I’m going to be stealing that sweater from you by the end of tonight.”

You chuckle at her nonchalance, “Naturally.”

She leans back on the back of your couch and crosses her arms easily. “Any hot plans for tonight?”

“You, me, and a box of pizza?”

“Make it two and you got yourself a deal.”

“Any other requests, beautiful?” You make your way slowly to Lena, eventually pinning her between your body and the couch. Your face is just inches away from hers and you can practically feel her next words against your skin.

“I was good today, need I remind you.”

“You were, actually.”

“What do I get for that?” She brings her lips close to yours and you can feel yourself being pulled for a kiss, but she doesn’t let you.

“Anything you want.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, well, I want to make it all about you tonight.” You try again for a kiss, leaning in just too late as Lena brings herself away again. You grunt in mild frustration and she chuckles at your desperation.

“Are you sure? I see you’re getting a little impatient.”

Finally, she kisses you and you feel relieved. You’ve been waiting all day to be able to kiss your girlfriend. She’s the only sense of normalcy you have, no matter the absurdity that is your life or your individual circumstances. Her hands come up between your bodies as she latches onto the front of your shirt and tugs. Your hands come up to her hips and you push up against her lightly. You hear a soft groan from her lips and kiss it away.

You lose yourself in the kiss for however long you’ve been going at it, and she pulls herself away suddenly, leaving you moderately shocked at the abrupt loss of contact as she makes her way towards your kitchen.

“Let’s get Tony’s, I think I’m in the mood for a greasy cheesy-stuffed crust pizza.” She smirks as she takes in your indignant expression. You decide right then and there that, yes, in accordance to all science, religion, and all poetry that could be: Lena Luthor will be the death of you.

You call in your favourite pizza place and have two large greasy, cheesy-stuffed crust pizzas delivered to your door - one vegetarian for Lena (compromises, apparently), and one specialty butter chicken flavoured pizza that does an excellent job of tasting like it’s supposed to.

You’re the very definition of relaxed as you recline into your couch, Lena leaning into you as you wrap an arm around her. You both decided on one of the conspiracy theory documentaries on Netflix, deciding it was a good piece of relative garbage to consume.

Lena hums happily as she nuzzles into your side, taking a bit more of the blanket wrapped around you two as it uncovers a bit more of your legs.

You hear her mumbling from somewhere near your stomach, muffled by your sweater and the blanket and her general sleepiness. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“What?”

There’s a long pause as you stare at Lena’s figure, no doubt with the intensity of burning into her skull if you had heat vision.

“I’m sorry, was that too weird? I shouldn’t have brought it up-”

“No...”

Lena finally turns her head to look at you questioningly. “What is it, love?”

You squint hard at the TV, the documentary long forgotten as you quickly run a reel of your entire day, pulling the brakes hard to a screeching halt when you put all the pieces together.

“Holy shit.” You mumble more to yourself than Lena.

“Babe, what’s wrong? Please, we can just forget about it-”

“No. No, no, no...”

“Oh my god, (Y/N), are you okay? Please talk to me.”

You sit up quickly, trying as best as you can to ease Lena off your lap as you continue to scratch at the surface of your struggling comprehension. You can’t believe yourself, you really can’t. You’ve certainly outdid yourself this time.

“I can’t believe it.”

Lena becomes increasingly alarmed at how upset you’re becoming and is at a loss for consoling you.

You finally look at her, an amalgamation of sadness, disappointment, and disbelief in your eyes. “Baby why didn’t you say anything?”

“I- I mean, I just did?”

“No, no way. This was supposed to be special.”

She looks at you, total confusion written on her face. “I’m sorry. I just thought- you didn’t bring it up? You hadn’t mentioned it all day and we haven’t really talked much about it, which is fair because that’s not really a thing one talks about in detail. I just thought you weren’t comfortable? I didn’t intend to upset you.”

“No, no baby that’s not it. I just- wow, I kinda suck. Aren’t you a little bit sad that I forgot?”

Lena’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Well, I mean I’ve never really had an official Valentine’s day so to speak. I would have liked to do something nice for you. But I wasn’t sure if you’d already made plans and I didn’t want to encroach on yours, and you didn’t give many hints about today at all so I thought maybe there was something else there. I didn’t want to bring it up if it was going to upset you.”

You click your tongue and lean across the couch to meet Lena halfway. You take her face in your hands and kiss her passionately. “You are too good for me, you know that?”

Lena smiles and kisses you again in between her words. “It’s okay, darling. As long as you remember my birthday.”

You pause in between your kisses, stopping as you stare almost cross-eyed into her eyes. The delayed reaction most certainly wasn’t going to help you. “Yeah, of course.”

She squints her eyes at you, backing away marginally so she can regard your entire face.

“You do remember when my birthday is, right?”

“How can I? You have like, three.”

She gasps in mock offense and begins to move away before you pull her back in, grinning at her reaction. You savour one last kiss before gently pulling yourself away and shaking your head. “Nope, I won’t have this. Get up.”

“What is it now?” She quirks her eyebrow at you quizzically, surely pondering what other nonsense you’ve come up with now.

“Get up baby, this is our date night.”

“I’d figured this night was, regardless of the calendar date?”

“Nope. Get your pretty little ass off that couch and help me, Luthor.”

Lena laughs as you take her in your arms and take her away from the couch. You pull the cushions off immediately and leave them in a heap on the floor as you take long strides toward your bedroom.

She calls after you from the living room. “Where on earth are you going? What are you even doing?”

You come back with various blankets and push them into her arms. Lena looks down at them questioningly and watches as you stack the cushions against the couch, taking care that they won’t fall.

Eventually, you’re satisfied with your work and you’ve made a tiny fort in front of your TV with the blankets and couch cushions. Lena smiles at you, bewildered and her expression just begging for an explanation.

You notice her look and cock your head to your creation. “Well then? Get in. You said you’ve never made one of these in your life, ever. Right?”

“Yes...” She’s still looking on with perplexity but crouches down to get into your fort. You follow happily behind her.

“Well, I fucked up, so I’m going to try and fix it.”

Your girlfriend looks at you with utter adoration, her eyes slightly wet with unshed tears. “You are truly something else, (Y/N).”

You smile at her and let her kiss you, closing your eyes in content as you bask in the love you have for Lena - the woman who came into your life and challenged everything you thought you knew, and then changed you for the better.

“I am sorry. I feel like absolute shit. I’ve never forgotten before and I...” Your words trail off, and she looks at you, encouraging and understanding. You find the resilience to continue. “I just, I don’t know how it’s escaped me. It’s like, lately it’s this simultaneous experience of my days blurring together and looking forward to each day, you know?”

Lena doesn’t answer, she simply nods and silently prods you to continue.

“It’s no excuse, I don’t want it to be. It’s just that, I’ve been so happy now. I am so happy, and that is all thanks to you. I lose track of my days because I’m not counting down anymore to some unmarked end or whatever, or waiting until the next greatest thing happens to me that makes me feel alive for a few minutes. I don’t need that anymore because it’s you. You are the best thing that’s happened to me, and I don’t need to count down anymore.”

You hear her sniffle and you wrap an arm around her, as best as you can attempt with the lack of space in your fort.

“I just want to make it up to you. Because you deserve everything. And the people I’ve dated in the past have done things on Valentine’s day, and it makes me feel fucking terrible that I can’t even be assed to remember it for you. It makes me feel like I’ve let you down, and it sucks, because I want to be worthy of you. If I can’t even remember one stupid day, how am I supposed to be the person you need me to be?”

You inhale sharply, getting all your words out and finally being able to breathe. Lena’s freely crying now, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes and wetting her cheeks.

“No, (Y/N), look at this. You did this.” She points up at the fort surrounding you. “You did make it up to me. You realized it and did something about it. I could never hold this against you. I can’t be mad at you for this. You did nothing wrong, baby. And you are exactly the person I need.”

Lena’s hand comes up to your face and caresses your cheek, her thumb lightly treading circles on your skin.

“You are so good to me. You are good for me, (Y/N), and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to spend this day with.” She leans in to kiss you and your breathing steadies, allowing yourself this forgiveness.

There’s a pause in your kisses as you and Lena look at each other, the documentary long over as silence fills your apartment. Nothing but the sounds of the street and the humming of your appliances can be heard.

��You wanna know something that I haven’t done?” You ask her after a moment.

“What is that?”

“I’ve never had sex in a pillow fort before. I’m gonna fuck you in this one.”

You smirk as she she gasps scandalously, swatting your face away from her as you effectively ruin the moment. You laugh as you dodge her half-hearted attempts to keep you away, poking at her sides as she twitches and squeals at the onslaught.

“Hey, but honestly. What else haven’t you done before? You wanna do some watercolour painting tonight? I think I have a full set hiding around somewhere that I got from my best friend for my birthday. Or we could put together a puzzle, or something.” You contemplate the items you have in your apartment, and you’re about to move to look for them.

All Lena does is give you a long look, studying you before she pushes you down onto your back and moves on top of you, kissing you so that you both forget the time or the day by the time you’re both done with each other.

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor imagine #supercorp #supercorp fic #lena luthor fic #katie mcgrath #supercorp fan fic

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deepseawritings · 7 years ago

Text

New Shovel story guys! It is a direct continuation of the first one and there’s also a reference to this snippet.

A stroll in Agroprom

The ache in her hands persisted through the day. It felt like she had small shards of glass on her joints, and the skin over her fingers and knuckles was reddened and itchy. But the pain had quieted down considerably since Shovel discovered vodka apparently cured radiation poisoning.

She asked Evgenii if it wouldn't be more effective to douse her hands with the liquor, but his horrified stare spoke volumes about what he thought of her idea. To be honest, it was a waste of perfectly good vodka. And medicine was usually ingested, she reasoned. So Shovel singlehandedly drank a quarter of the bottle. Just enough to dull the pain in her hands. Evgenii also drank, their little misadventure in Garbage had left them both more affected by the radiation than they anticipated. Not to mention Shovel's newfound case of acute paranoia. Bandits that disguised themselves as other factions to kill you... it still made her shudder. Thankfully the vodka also helped with that, she felt much better now!

This was starting to remind her of her teenage years: squatting around a campfire eating shashlik –rat shashlik most probably, but it was better to not think about that– and drinking vodka and bragging about who shot farthest. Only she used to shoot old bottles and cans years ago; now she shot at mutated animals or worse to not get mauled to death. But what had Bes told them? Oh yes, such is life in the Zone!

Next day they were slightly hangover, but her hands felt fine again. Completely worth it. Besides, it wasn't like this was her first hangover ever. After a light breakfast around the ashes of Bes' campfire they crossed into Agroprom without further incidents. Shovel was happy to leave the radioactive mountains of trash behind them. It felt good to walk on solid ground again, without climbing shifting piles of debris or feeling the crunching of glass and metal detritus beneath her boots. The hangar seemed deserted when they passed by, but neither she or Evgenii went in to check if the bandits were still there. No, they just scurried along in their best attempt at stealth. And from there it was only a matter of following the dusty road.

The Agroprom institute was visible in the distance, a massive complex right by the side of the train tracks. Shovel remembered how her father's friend, Mr. Ponomarenko, used to ramble about a secret conspiracy around the old Agroprom Institute and the exclusion Zone. But that used to happen after he'd had a few beers and shots of vodka, so everyone rolled their eyes at his rants and ignored him.

The Agroprom buildings had been abandoned a long time ago, just like the railroads. However, what really caught her attention were the artifacts, strewn around like someone had prepared the most ridiculous Easter egg hunt.

"Fuck me, are you seeing this too or am I still drunk?" Evgenii had the funniest look in his face, like he was seconds away from pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"I see it too," she was almost as dazed as him. Surely an artifact detector would go crazy and implode if used here. "I thought artifacts were almost impossible to find without a detector?"

Evgenii smiled exceitedly like a child in Christmas. "C'mon, drinks at The 100 Rads are on the one who picks up less artifacts!"

Shovel stopped him by grabbing his arm. Not because she didn't have a clue of what was The 100 Rads, it was impossible to not have heard about it after spending two weeks in a stalker camp, but because she had just remembered a critical piece of information.

"Didn't- uh, aren't artifacts spawned because of anomalies?" Markov might have been a coward and a self-serving pig, but so far all he'd told them about the Zone turned out to be true.

"Yeah, sure, usually inside anomalies..." Evgenii's face shifted into a grimace when he realised what Shovel meant. "We use the bolts then."

Given the amount of artifacts lying around, Shovel had expected to find an anomaly minefield. However, in fact the anomalies were few and far between. She mulled over such oddity until she remembered the anomaly in her farm's field, which randomly disappeared one day. Shovel felt a bit stupid, but in her defence she'd grown so used to constantly seeing anomies around that it seemed like they were permanent. Usually it didn't make a difference if the springboard by the side of the rookie village disappeared one day, because most surely a vortex had popped into existence two steps down the same spot.

The only place that actually was a death trap was the old train tunnel. Evgenii had thrown a bolt in there and triggered at least half a dozen anomalies. He jumped in surprise and let out a shrill cry that he later would deny.

"Shit, don't get inside there!" He yelled to ensure she heard him. "Unless you want to become minced meat!"

Taking good note of that, Shovel shouted back her thanks and avoided the tunnel entrance. Even so, they picked up quite a bounty of artifacts from the clearing bracketing the train tracks. Shovel enjoyed the moment, it really wasn't that different from picking berries with her sister as they did as kids.

It was weird that artifacts moved on their own, though. Normally it was a kind of restless jiggle, but one of them was moving erratically like it wanted to escape. Which was ridiculous, because artifacts weren't sentient, right? Intent on catching the damn thing, she tripped down when chasing the restless artifact. Evgenii made a valiant effort to hide his chuckling as a cough, but without much success. And then the peace was shattered by a not so distant shot, followed by indistinct yelling.

Evgenii looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights. Shovel was in a similarly panicked state, she just was less expressive than him.

"Should we go check it? Or hide?"

As if she had a good answer for that! "Your guess is as good as mine Evgenii."

The synchronized beeping of the PDAs startled them, and Shovel rushed to check the message.

12:06 – Anton Belyavin, Ecologist

Big pack of dogs with a pseudo-dog near the Agroprom Factory. Help needed!

It looked genuine enough. She doubted bandits could falsify that. Or so she hoped. And if you listened intently enough you could hear some faint barking among the distant ruckus. Shovel made up her mind.

"Okay, let's go. Have your weapon ready."

Following the train tracks to their end at the other side of the complex's courtyard, Shovel fought to keep calm. She kept telling herself it was just like going hunting, like the missions she did for Wolf back at the rookie camp. Except she knew it wasn't. Shovel had only faced down about three or four mutants at once before, not a huge pack of them. If they weren't fast or good enough someone might die. That of course if she hadn't misjudged the situation and it was a trap after all.

Once they crossed to the other side of the broken concrete fence the furious barking was almost deafening. A stalker in an orange protective suit had climbed to the lowest branch of a tree, cowering from a pseudo-dog, while a stalker in a more typical dirty green suit tried to keep a pack of rabid dogs at bay. Shovel went straight for the pseudo-dog, who had finally grabbed the climbing stalker by the leg of the suit and was trying to drag him down the tree. Her hunting rifle had never disappointed her and now it wasn't any different. When she had to reload it Evgenii took over, shooting at the pseudo-dog with his Fort-12. They were getting used to work as a team.

The pseudo-dog let its current prey go and ran towards them. Shovel shot at it again, hoping it would be enough to kill it. It wasn't. The limping and bloody pseudo-dog lunged at her. Shovel jumped to the side to avoid it, and once she was out of the way Evgenii finished off the mutant with a headshot. The rest of the dogs scattered soon after that, not as bloodthirsty after the other stalker kept shooting at them with the Obokan.

"Good timing, if it wasn't for your help the little doc would be dog food." The stalker slung the Obokan back, yanked down the bandana covering her face and offered Shovel her hand. "Name's Gecko."

"Yul- Shovel, I'm Shovel!" She squeaked, feeling her face grow hot as she accepted the handshake.

The stalker was a woman. Which wasn't that surprising, Shovel had seen before other lady stalkers, as she dubbed them. But Gecko was dark eyed, and delightfully tall and her short hair stuck out adorably like a hedgehog. Shovel was instantly moonstruck.

Seeing as Shovel went mute, Evgenii introduced himself. "Glad be could be of help! I'm Evgenii."

Gecko nodded at him and then addressed the other stalker, who finally jumped down from his branch. "How's the leg, little doc?"

"Fine, fine. The suit's wrecked though," the man held his leg raised, showing them all the shredded suit leg. Gecko coughed pointedly, but the man didn't notice it. "Where did we stash my instruments?It's vital that I gather samples while the specimen is still fresh."

With an exasperated sigh Gecko rumaged around her backpack and gave him what looked like a small toolbox. She cleared her throat again, but seeing as the man eagerly squatted next to the dead pseudo-dog's body, Gecko desisted in trying to capture his attention.

"You'll have to excuse doctor Belyavin, he tends to focus too much on his work."

"You're ecologists?" Evgenii perked up. According to the rumour mill at the rookie village, ecologists paid pretty well for any artifact you brought them.

"He works on old Sakharov's team. I just make sure he comes back alive and with not many limbs missing," Gecko gave a short, bitter laugh. "Not like doctor Vasilevich. Just barely outside the camp he stepped into a whirligig and bam! he rained on us like confetti."

Shovel grimaced. It was a horrible way to go, both for the victim and the witnesses. She would have offered her condolences, but she had no idea of what to say, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Ah, where are you going now?" Evgenii asked.

"Back to Sakharov, in Yantar. If the little doc decides he's done taking samples?"

"Just a moment!" Belyavin said while he fumbled with his toolbox. "I don't know why are you so eager to get to the swamp, it's a terrible place."

"Swamp?" Evgenii asked Gecko. He looked as confused as Shovel, who had no idea of where was Yantar.

Gecko made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "The Yantar camp is near a small swamp. And on our way out of Agroprom we'll have to skirt a swampy pond."

Shovel wasn't a fan of swamps, but that didn't sound so terrible.

"Yeah, and both snorks and zombified stalkers love the goddamn swamp," Belyavin ranted displeased. For someone who looked younger than Shovel, he surely was grumpy like an old man. "I can't wait to get out of this hellhole, research opportunities be damned. I won't be able to publish anything if I'm dead!"

Shovel and Evgenii looked at each other alarmed. He mouthed "Zombies" at her in horror, and Shovel wished she could believe it was a joke. Unfortunately, the scientist had sounded very serious in his complaint. Meanwhile Belyavin had kept complaining about what the dangers of the Zone, which where many according to him, despite Gecko's efforts to make him stop.

"Little doc stop it, blin! You'll scare the rookies!"

"Well, perhaps they should be scared! It might be good for them. Who in their right mind willingly comes underequipped to squat in a dangerous radioactive area?"

"We can accompany you to Yantar. For extra protection." Shovel's offer made everyone shut up and look at her in surprise, even Evgenii. She started to blush again under Gecko's scrutiny. "It's not that I don't think you capable, because you look formidable like an Amazon... uh, what I meant to say is maybe a couple of extra weapons could be helpful against the dangers of the Zone, even if we're rookies... and uh, we have artifacts?"

Thank God Evgenii took pity of her after her terrible and bumbling speech and came to her aid. "Yeah, we were looking to sell our artifacts. And if the ecologists are short on people I wouldn't mind lending a hand."

Gecko looked at Belyavin, who shrugged back in indifference.

"Fine by me," Gecko eventually said with an impish look in her eyes. "I've never before travelled with someone who thought I was formidable like an Amazon."

Shovel hid her face in her hands. Just for once she'd like to not put her foot in her mouth when speaking with a woman she liked.

As if to mirror her mortification, the sky darkened considerably, casting literal dark clouds over them. Crackling thunder built up in the distance. All very dramatic. Then all the PDAs beeped simultaneously, and even worse, a shrill alarm blared loud enough to reach even the old compound behind them.

"That can't be right," Belyavin went pale like a ghost and hurriedly checked his PDA. "The next emission was supposed to –"

"Well, you were wrong," Gecko cut him off. "Look at the skies, we must search for cover."

Shovel wasn't certain of what was happening, yet she was sure it was nothing good. Still, she disliked being in the dark. "What the heck is going on?"

"A blowout. C'mon, there's an entrance to the underground tunnels somewhere nearby," Gecko said.

At least Evgenii seemed as lost as Shovel was. It was a small comfort, but as her babushka used to say, when things went to shit it was better to find comfort wherever you could.

The sky turned blood red alarmingly fast, the light dim and unnatural, and Shovel was reminded of that weird storm years ago, before the first anomaly in her fields appeared out of nowhere. Gecko found the entrance to the tunnels, but Belyavin was feeling rebellious.

"I don't see why we can't go to that building instead of crawling underground like roaches," he pointed to the dilapidated complex behind them. A sound like thunder grew and grew while he talked, making it difficult to hear him.

"Underground is safer than a building full if holes!" Gecko had to scream to be heard at this point. "If you want to go, fine! But don't expect me to carry your dead or zombified arse back to Yantar!"

After such a convincing argument Belyavin stopped opposing her idea to find refuge underground. He climbed down the ladder between Shovel and Evgenii, who unlike Belyavin didn't think for a moment to argue against the most experienced person of their group.

The Agroprom Underground was unpleasantly cold and damp, and it smelled like something had died down here a long time ago, which was extremely probable. However, contrary to what Shovel imagined, it wasn't a tunnel nor some kind of sewers, it was more like an underground hall. A dim orange light, coming from an emergency light bulb, bathed the place.

Gecko was the last one to come down the ladder, just as the earth shook and a deafening noise was heard coming from outside. She ordered them to get away from the entrance and this time everyone complied at once. Shovel mesmerized by the red light filtering down the ladder's shaft. Had the Red Storm, as her father had called it, been a blowout too? Shovel was starting to realise that being on the other side of the fence didn't mean that her farm hadn't been part of the Zone almost since the beginning. Did that make them all technically farming stalkers?

"Well, hello there!"

Two guys emerged from a shadowed corner, sauntering towards Shovel's group. Their ensemble of long dark coat plus balaclava gave away their affiliation.

"Bandits,"Belyavin said through clenched teeth.

The grumpy scientist wasn't happy with their current situation, but neither was Shovel. And she couldn't imagine Evgenii was happy either. Gecko looked tense as a spring, ready to jump at the slightest indication the bandits were going to attack.

"I'm Noodle and this is Squint. Must say we weren't expecting anyone!" The tallest of the two opened his arms in a welcoming gesture.

Time seemed to go still, like everyone in their group. Shovel could see Gecko's fingers twitching, like she wanted nothing more than to grab her weapon. Yet no one dared move, waiting with baited breath for the other party to move first. Belyavin muttered something about "freaking bandits are worse than a plague" with the utmost contempt. Unfortunately his voice carried loud enough in the tense silence.

"Bandits? Who's a bandit? Not us, that for sure!" In a different situation, Noodle's affectation of innocent surprise could have been comical. But right now Shovel could only think it was forced and creepy. "Not anymore at least."

Yeah, sure. And Shovel was the long lost empress of Russia. Evgenii's chortle, masked as a cough, made her think she'd said that aloud. But no, it was just his reaction of disbelief to the bandit's assertion.

"They don't believe us." Well, wasn't this Squint a keen observer?

"Not everyone has felt the call brother," Noodle made a show of sighing exaggeratedly and shaking his head.

"What call?" Gecko asked them, still looking ready to grab her weapon any second now.

"The call of the Monolith, of course!" Squint said with a gleam in his eyes.

"Our comrade Leech heard the Monolith, it spoke to him. And he changed. He only wanted to go find the Monolith," Noodle explained them, like they were friends talking over a cup of tea. "Why assault and rob people when the Monolith could grant us wealth and anything we wanted? So we decided to go with Leech to Pripyat and find the Wish Granter."

Wasn't the Monolith just a myth? Shovel always thought Wolf's stories of the Wish Granter were tall tales, entertaining but faker than a four ruble coin. But if what these two said was true... the idea of a thing that made people obsess over it, that spoke to them and made them changed their minds overnight... was she the only one who thought it was creepy beyond belief? Her face must have betrayed some emotion, because Noodle suddenly focused on her.

"The girl knows what I'm talking about, right?" He pointed at her with a nod, and Shovel's entire group turned around to look at her.

"No! I don't hear voices!" Shovel quickly defended herself.

"Leech said it began as a faint whisper," Squint supplied unnecessarily.

There had been a couple of times when the wind seemed to whisper things, gibberish, but that was just the wind. It also happened at home, before the Red Storm, when everything was normal. Shovel was thinking of how to voice that, because she didn't like how the bandits were looking at her. Too expectant and hopeful. Thankfully Gecko intervened with a rather pressing question.

"And where is your friend now? This Leech?"

The so called ex-bandit grimaced and made a vague gesture that pointed someplace behind him, in the dark. "Dead. Fucking bloodsuckers got him."

Wait, what? Bloodsuckers? Shovel had heard a lot about bloodsuckers, especially around campfires while the veteran stalkers tried their damnest to scare the rookies. And Shovel was pretty sure she didn't want to meet those mutants ever. Even if the stories had been exaggerated.

"There are bloodsuckers here?!" Even Gecko was worried, which wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

"Yeah, further down," Noodle said. "But it's cool, the stairs will stop'em."

They all stopped to listen, searching any indication the mutants had figured out the stairs. And if on cue, there was a strange rasping sound far away in deep, dark recesses. Was her imagination playing tricks on her or did it truly sound like something was scratching metal? They all looked at each other in search of reassurance, differences like ex-bandit and stalker forgotten in their common fear of bloodsuckers. Gecko took a hesitant step forward, finally reaching for her weapon.

"I'll go have a look. Stay alert."

Gecko directed a fleeting glance to the ex-bandits. She clearly didn't trust them much. That was fine, Shovel didn't like them at all either. Evgenii solemnly nodded, unholstering his pistol as they watched Gecko disappear on the dark end of the corridor.

They say the waiting part is the worst. And Shovel never had much patience to begin with. Had they been waiting just seconds or minutes already? Time stretched strangely when you were on alert. In the end they all walked further into the room, stopping on the nexy archway. Stil no sign of Gecko, only darkness ahead.

There was a crackling sound coming from far behind her. She had learnt to identify the sound as the discharge of an electro. Turning around, she took a couple of steps towards the sound. Her flashlight revealed a small tunnel, alight with the fain blue glow of an electro. Then all hell broke loose.

The dreaded and unmistakeable sound of someone firing a rifle echoed in the underground tunnels. Shovel wiped her head around and saw Evgenii dart a couple of steps forward, gun held high.

"Are you ok? Gecko! What's going on?" He yelled into the dark.

There was no reply, just another crack and hiss from the electro. Was something (a bloodsucker) coming for them? They had no idea where that tunnel lead, and there must be a reason for the electro's discharges. As far as she knew, electros only cracked like that when something or someone stepped into them. So Shovel turned her back to the rest of the group and aimed her hunting rifle to the entrance of the suspicious tunnel.

"I fucking hate the Zone," Belyavin said aloud to no one in particular. “It’s all a death trap.”

"Leech used to say the Monolith demands sacrifice," was the laconic answer of Noodle.

"Oh yes? Lovely."

"Yeah," Noodle replied.

Shovel heard two quick shots behind her, too close. Terrifyingly close. Something hit the ground. Her thoughts tangled in an endless loop of "No, no! This isn't- can't be.."

She wanted to turn around, see what happened. Yet at the same time she was too afraid of what she would see. The cold fingers of dread were squeezing her, keeping her rooted to her spot. Then something hard impacted painfully against the back of her head, and Shovel's last jumbled thought was "I hope 'm not bleeding. Taking blood out of my hair is going to be a nightmare" before her world went black.

Author’s note: now you have a better idea of how this spoilery little piece fits into Shovel’s misadventures.

#S.T.A.L.K.E.R.#OC #shovel #evgenii

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thesinglesjukebox · 8 years ago

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KATY PERRY FT. MIGOS - BON APPETIT [3.53] In which the Jukebox is told it's not getting any dessert until it's finished its Monday singles...

Rachel Bowles: Musing about cunnilingus is the finest thing a person can do, if she's good at it. Narrowed down to just vagina-as-food songs, Perry's extended mixed-metaphor is still easily outclassed, even by Iggy Azalea. As evidenced in this list, cunnilingus anthems have been largely pioneered and perfected by Black women (Janet Jackson, Lil Kim, TLC, etc.) those with the double curse of misogynoir proudly contradicting the patriarchal capitalist message that vaginas are disgusting and only for fucking. A good cunnilingus song makes women high five on dance floors, feel sexy and genuinely empowered. Personally, I prefer obscene instructional songs (Khia, "My Neck, My Back") over those with faux-coquettish metaphor (Christina Aguilera ft. Nicki Minaj, "Woohoo") but in Blow, Beyonce found the perfect balance: sexy imagery with a direct order, delivered with female solidarity in the echoed "Turn that cherry out!" "Got me spread like a buffet" to some generic summer EDM synths just doesn't compare. [3]

Iain Mew: Weird to hear a Katy Perry single where the lyrical issue isn't awkwardly cramming in sexual references, so much as incoherence as a result of failing to properly commit to the obvious cunnilingus angle. The low-key sweetness of the production and her restraint still makes it a better listen than most, and the two note-four note hop-skip in the chorus works even better than it did in Anne-Marie's "Ciao Adios." [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Christ, without Bonnie McKee's involvement Katy Perry really does go right back to One of the Boys leftovers with an Anne-Marie melody. In a just world, such a demonstration of value over replacement songwriter would earn McKee something, like maybe, I don't know, sales. In this one we get midtempo blahs I guess are supposed to signify sexiness, a cursory Migos feature fresh off their Capitol signing, and likely not even a hit to show for it. [2]

Danilo Bortoli: Fabricating hatred has never been easier in 2017. "Bon Appetit" might have received all the negative press it deserves, but that happened for all the wrong reasons. Over time, however, consensus was formed: this is the most soulless Katy has been in years. Nothing works. Migos are out of place here (as a solo version proves). And, of course, the track seems like the result of a pun contest's last place entry (apparently, this is a real and tasteless thing). No joke intended -- but the song itself, that is. [2]

Alfred Soto: "Five-star Michelin," eh? I'll say this about Katy's latest amuse-bouche: it follows through on its conceit. Confirming their A-list status, Migos gets relegated to muttered quavering non-entities. [5]

Scott Mildenhall: You might feel differently, but Katy Perry singing "got me spread like a buffet" just has to be one of the worst musical moments of the year so far. As extended metaphors go, this one is executed very badly. "Table for two... I'm on the menu" -- is she advocating autocannibalism? "Bon Appetit" has the ridiculousness of Perry's worst, most affectedly wacky singles, yet sounds like it's being played with a straight face, and that's quite a weird place to be. The shimmering production is enjoyable, but the words are so egregious that they're hard to ignore. [4]

Cassy Gress: This is arguably the least sexy sex song I've ever heard. Katy Perry is singing through an A/C window unit, the song just rocks back and forth between B♭ minor and B major with no resolution, Migos stops by and contributes virtually nothing, and it's a bit too close to "GOBBLE GOBBLE" for comfort for me. It manages to come off as clinical despite never explicitly referencing sex; I know I'm sort of squeamish about sex talk, but blugh. I'd rather listen to "Touch It." [1]

William John: Katy Perry whispering unsexy, overwrought metaphors over boilerplate house reads poorly as a primer, but remains a more tantalising proposition than faded xeroxes of 80s synthpop with vacant "let's save the world" platitudes. A few extra marks for the intermittent whoops, which nod reverently to Crazy Cousins' classic "Inflation" (at least in my head) and Migos, who may have phoned in their guest spot but deliver it lithely nonetheless. [5]

Katie Gill: Turns out "Chained to the Rhythm" was just a fluke! No, Katy Perry's going to continue to make songs about sex with dumb metaphors stretched to high heaven, warped into near unrecognition. It's an even tackier version of "Birthday", where the best thing is the Migos break and the worst thing is the impossibly tacky dancehall stylings. Possibly the most interesting thing about this song is the cannibalistic implications -- "I'm on the menu"? Really? -- which has the potential to be thought provoking, so of course that means Perry's going to ignore it. [3]

Joshua Copperman: Between "lemiteiku" and "the worldsbestcherryPIe", this melodic math was a bit miscalculated. And that's before the chorus, which is possibly the worst Katy Perry melody ever, even counting "This Is How We Do". Unusual for Max Martin, as far as I can tell, the chord progression is limited to B♭m-B the whole way through -- apparently they couldn't even be bothered to use four chords. Migos' verses aren't bad, and I smiled at "appetite for seduction," but those are all the positives I could think of for this half-assed song that makes me wish a portmanteau of somnambulance and cannibalism was possible (somnamibalism?). I assumed that "Bon Appetit" would grow on me over the summer, but as it's currently flopping after just one week of existence, I'll never even get the opportunity to hate-then-enjoy it. [3]

Will Adams: Against my better judgment, I clicked on the Tasty video in which Katy Perry prepares the "world's best cherry pie" (take: this is an impossible task because there's no such thing as a cherry pie that's anything but gross). But my regret soon turned into high enjoyment as I listened to Katy ramble incoherently in some misguided attempt to create a Genius annotation live. As with "Chained to the Rhythm," there's so much effort to legitimize the nonsense pouring out of her mouth: 1. She claims there are "easter eggs" in the lyrics; I think she just means euphemisms. 2. What the hell kind of songs has she heard where "cherry pie" was not sexualized? 3. That she's trying to connect this to the cherry Chapstick in "I Kissed a Girl" shows she still hasn't realized she should probably disown that song. It's all so tiresome; "Birthday" worked because it leaned into the cheesiness, but "Bon Appetit" goes serious with its Cobb salad of food-based innuendo, a concept I've rarely heard executed well. Fold in some perfunctory Migos, overdress with the entire world's supply of reverb, and... oh fuck, now I'm doing it. [4]

Anthony Easton: I adore the gossip about Perry's fighting around her new aesthetic with the label, who apparently is worried about sales. I have no idea if this will revive her fortunes; it's not quite anonymous, but it pushes her against Migos, and Migos wins -- working against each other, doubling down on a cryptic chorus, becoming very close to being a hook singer. It's not sexy, even if it is about sex, and this kind of disembodied paen to the abstract idea of desire complicates Perry's previous perceptions. It's not quite a meal, but it does seem to have that vague whiff of nausea after eating too much candy. [8]

Thomas Inskeep: I guess, seeing that "woke Katy" didn't exactly burn up the charts, her camp/label/some-combo-thereof decided "we better go back to the clumsy sex songs, fast!" Because, you know, nothing's sexier than hearing someone say they're "spread like a buffet." (Pardon me while I throw up a little in my mouth.) I'm sad to hear Migos doing a clear cash-in bridge rap here, because they're so much better than this. Max Martin and Shellback's track isn't bad, but it's sonically awfully slight. Ironic to hear Perry saying "bon appetit," because there's no major pop star whose music I find less appetizing. [1]

Edward Okulicz: Pop stars get hot but they don't stay hot forever, and if this uninteresting ode to Katy Perry's vagina returns her to the top spot, then there is no explanation other than massive amounts of payola and a bunch of Capitol Records interns doing nothing but stream this 24 hours a day. I couldn't last 24 minutes of the title's non-punchline squeezed, against the laws of nature, into this non-chorus. [2]

Jonathan Bradley: I have a Spotify playlist of Katy Perry songs that runs for about 50 minutes. That's not an extensive running time for a ten year long career, but it contains some songs that are very good and some songs that are very stupid and also some songs that are very good and very stupid at the same time. Perry has had five songs off a single album reach the top of the Billboard Hot 100 -- as well as a sixth from a re-issued version. She's been risible and racist and homophobic and "woke" and "inspirational" and fantastic, and even birthed a meme from her Super Bowl performance, but on "Bon Appetit," she's nothing. This is a public-domain club groove and a Migos verse that couldn't deliver the rap group unto dance even as effectively as Calvin Harris did. If, immediately after "Ur So Gay" dropped, someone time-travelled to 2017, could you convince them off the strength of this single that, in the interim decade, Katy Perry had been one of America's biggest pop stars? [4]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#Katy Perry #Migos

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jillmckenzie1 · 6 years ago

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Denver 48-Hour Film Project

“The noble Brutus hath told you Caesar was ambitious. If it were so, it was a grievous fault. And grievously hath Caesar answered it”

I occasionally break up the monotony of my paralyzing self-doubt by going on a rampage of unfounded confidence that I possess the skills to fulfill my delirious ambition. Such was my fantasy of participating this year in the Denver 48-Hour Film Project, a competition-cum-art-festival-cum-orgy of self-flagellation where participants create 100% of a movie in a single weekend. When cold sober, in the harsh light of morning, of course it’s ridiculous to make an entire film, start to finish, writing and shooting and scoring and editing, in just 48 hours. Who would do that? Crazy people who drink tiger blood and vanquish their enemies. I sip gin and have never noticeably vanquished anything except tonic water.

I still wanted to do it.

In the movies, your friends are the ones who say, “follow your dreams” and “dare to believe” and “your heart will guide you” and other such nonsense. In reality, your friends are the ones who look you in the eye and say, “that dude is a total douchebag and you’re being a complete idiot over him.” They also sometimes say, “Really? You’d be good at that, but you don’t have the infrastructure in place to do it this year.” Which was exactly what happened, and which was exactly, unfortunately, undeniably true. I have zero experience shooting films and I don’t have the cameras, the crew, the directorial skills, or the editing software in place to make a film happen in 2018. It was a crazy idea.

I didn’t do it.

As it happens, though, I have some crazy friends in the local production company Studio C3 who practically bathe in tiger blood and do their winning in bulk. They do have established infrastructure and mad editing skills and the boundless ambition necessary to even try. And they did it. They made a short film in 48 hours that is currently in the top-15 picks out of dozens of entries in the Denver competition. It’s called Safe. Away and it’s awesome. If you get a chance to see it, you should definitely do that. (You can also check out some of the same production company’s other stuff, which is totally Denver and totally worth seeing.) Not to brag on my friends, but they won the 48-Hour Film Project’s Best Film of Denver 2017 and screened at the Denver Film Festival 40 and Filmapalooza 2018.)

In this column, I normally encourage people to put on pants and actually go outside of their homes to see some live entertainment. Today is a bit different: I’m encouraging people to fire up their internet browsers and check out some online videos. The Denver 48 Hour Film Project has produced films that have won awards at festivals and competitions across the country and been screened internationally. And they’re being made by our own talented people, right here in Denver, featuring the landmarks and landscapes of this gorgeous place we call home. You can get a glimpse of up-and-coming performers and seasoned professionals collaborating on some genuinely clever and totally original entertainment.

Getting back to the idea that this is crazy…it is. The rules of the 48 Hour Film Project require that the film be created in its entirety within 48 hours. Participants draw lots to see what genre is assigned to them and the script must include certain required elements that function as little shout-outs to the audience and judges. These are not given to the filmmakers until the start of the time allotment and serve to ensure that nobody prepares a script or shoots a scene ahead of time. Participants then write, cast, shoot, edit, score, and submit their films. This requires a Herculean effort and a heroic amount of caffeine. If the cast is not shaking from emotion or exhaustion, then, by the end of the two days, they are certainly shaking from OTC stimulants and sleep deprivation.

(Does staying awake for that long, even heavily caffeinated, seem dubious? Here’s the secret: some of the cast takes shifts. I spoke with my buddy on the team, Chris Gallegos, and he told me the actors generally shoot from around 9am to midnight. This seems arduous enough to me, but pales compared to the directors and editors. They do stay up for most of that time, supporting the efforts with a couple alternating shifts of naps and a metric ton of coffee.)

After receiving their challenges, the crews head off to write their script and then cast, shoot, and edit it down into a 4-7 minute masterpiece. Based on years of creating my own narrative work, it’s this last part that impresses me the most. Shooting film takes hours, certainly, but it’s at least real-time. (What you shoot in 5 seconds becomes 5 seconds of raw footage.) Editing is a whole other animal. Splicing together a sequence that plays for 5 seconds could take hours. Editing it down into a simple, narratively-coherent, focused message with a brief timespan is a whale of an effort.

After 48 hours, the crews stumble back in from their shoots and editing bays, sleep-deprived and babbling something about losing the light before that last line could be shot, clutching their files of footage. What they have in their sweaty, shaking hands is five minutes of magic. That Costco flat of Red Bull was totally worth it.

Check it out, folks. Give yourself the treat of seeing a few minutes worth of your friends’ and neighbors’ artistic effort and achievement. It’s not Les Mis–thank God! It’s real, here, human artworks that you can engage with right now. And you have to admire those who don’t just think about doing something like this, but actually do it. That’s not just ambition; it’s action.

Easter Egg: If/when you watch Safe. Away, look for Chris Gallegos. In the original version, he has his cell phone visible in his pocket. In the director’s cut, that’s been taken out. Which version are you watching?!

from Blog https://ondenver.com/denver-48-hour-film-project/

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grandwitchcollection-blog · 7 years ago

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Boy21 Through Matthew Quick-- Reviews, Conversation, Bookclubs, Lists.

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You get a chapter free of cost, to test how the game focuses on your gadget (its graphic clout suggests relatively effective Android devices are actually recommended); a singular IAP unlocks the remainder. New Boy pays attention to these celebrations at the expenditure of tough charact New Boy, by Julian Houston, deals with familiar area in young adult myth, as well as along with good factor. This was actually appealing, later on, when Bok took place to obtain the perspective from the employer, to find out that, inevitably, these same lamenting boys were those who, coming from the employer's perspective, were either significantly overpaid approximately entirely pointless about be actually noted for very early decapitation. So he had his _ Encyclopaedia _- its own reliability currently established in his mind through General Garfield's letter-and began to study the lives of successful men and women. In your manual when George told his mommy he seemed like a female, she couldn't approve this. Mommies are actually meant to adore you whatever, even if you aren't what they wished you would certainly be. When I dealt with that I recognized when George's mama didn't allow him, he form of stopped and ended up being inhibited. Of course any type of social guy, regardless of just how big his correspondence, is pleased to acquire an earnest letter off an information-seeking boy. He likes his family, yet really isn't quite Guy and Young boy by Tony Parsons is actually the account of how a guy comes to be a father brown to his boy, as well as a kid to a father. Men relate stories differently compared to women do, or even though he's gay, I definitely would not anticipate him to essentially offer a comprehensive model of events-it's only not sensible of his personality. The young boy was so appreciative that the lion did certainly not want to consume him, that he gladly grabbed his knapsack which lay on the ground, and also held up some bread as well as a bottle from wine. These detail that the bay between girls as well as males is an item from attributes, not nourish. Because they might own smaller automobiles or possess a bag that they utilize to lug points about is merely plan stupid, I assume mentioning that Guy are actually becoming more like girls. Men are actually provided less sympathy than ladies, few guys yet that is actually still a substantial concern for all males typically. I desired to rise as well as cheer considering that below was actually an 8-year aged boy-past the age when young boys start to stop emotionally-who, hoping to preserve good partnerships, wished to discuss feelings. One boy I recognized, with an appetite for graffiti, took a series of spray cans to his room and also en-suite shower room (and also furnishings) when bored one afternoon, while yet another thrilled in that he possessed his mommy's imposingly sizable vibrator and also 'love eggs' hidden at the back of his cupboard. And also the managing boy is interesting: he was running away off the school bus, held no publications and also used no shoes. These are fairly identical since This reveals a journal or even a lifestyle concerning a boy who is actually lifestyle is ridiculous as well as despites many factors that make both young boys gloomy as well as possess a dog's life. That possesses a similarly essential message for those of us who in the chaos of a busy world are actually straining to attain, in many occasions without any sight beyond the desire to deliver as greatest our company could for the well being from our own selves and our households. At one aspect, the movie even swerves into a trip where Kyuta asks the different elders from the creature world about the attribute of durability as well as is actually astounded (and thrilled) due to the several responses he receives. On the other hand, so that the newspapers could be properly supplied with thistles for their shafts, he published an entire amount of his magazine created by the children from renowned men. The only trait I am actually finding is a lot of melodrama and labels that bring in the characters seem like horses. My favored easily is actually the seeker ensemble generally because Kid mentions, Robin Hoooooooood!" in an amusing voice. For some time, I could possibly have given Samantha in Sex And also The City a run for her amount of money, marching along with a set from pleasant younger guys (the youngest was actually 24) - as well as I can not refute what an awesome increase this was actually to my assurance at a time when I believed I was moving towards spinsterhood. IMO that is actually the main reason guys commit suicide in such file amounts, it is actually the leading cause for guys under FIFTY.

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