#and i think the blight plants are so interesting (but gross)

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon forbidden west | plainsong 2/?

[hiddenbeks]

oc questions tag

tagged by @hibernationsuit !! thank youuuu 💜

tagging @rosykims @aevallare @abetterbeginning @gortash @wrenanigans if u want to do this, no pressure! don't remember who's done this recently so i'm sorry if ur getting spammed with this bc of me hehe

anyway it's celyn time babey.. been thinking abt her a lot lately <3

name: celyn surana

nickname(s): uhhh. cel? i gotta think of some cute descriptive nicknames for her that others would teasingly use but i'm drawing a blank rn. will have to ruminate more.

she only lets Very Close Friends call her by any nickname btw. jowan (being her only friend lol) was the only person in the circle who got to call her cel. only andrale and carver have earned this privilege since (andrale only ever calls her celyn tho). leliana earns it as well ten years later during inquisition lol

gender: cis female

star sign: uhhh she was born on the 27th of firstfall which is the thedas equivalent of november sooo sagittarius??

height: 159 cm. my second shortest oc and the same height as me hehe <3

orientation: bisexual!

nationality: fereldan i guess. she was born in ferelden and raised in ferelden's circle of magi but she doesn't have a strong Fereldan Identity. she's not celyn from ferelden she's just... celyn...

favorite fruit: uuuhh apples

favorite season: i'm tempted to say winter bc her aesthetic is so cold and wintery but i think she would prefer a warmer season. maybe mid to late fall actually. she enjoys the gloom and fall colors and the rainy and stormy weather

favorite flower: i wonder if she's ever even seen a live plant actually. i wonder if there are any indoor greenhouses in the circle. wow i'm suddenly making myself sad thinking abt how she's barely seen any nature in her 19 years of life. anyway uhhh!!! gentians are her favorite actually look at how pretty they are

favorite scent: ghghjgh i struggle with any scent or smell related questions bc i have anosmia so idk what things smell like lmao. let's say uhhh whatever a spruce forest smells like. nice n fresh i imagine

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: she's a coffee gal... had to check if coffee exists in thedas and apparently it does and is a major export of antiva. fascinating. anyway she drinks coffee to stay awake late at night reading and studying (forbidden) magic. she enjoys the silence of the night and is at her most productive during that time

average hours of sleep: during her time in the circle i guess it was like... 5-6 maybe? as i said she tends to stay up late and i bet circle inhabitants are expected to wake up crazy early like 6am or sth. it doesn't get any better after leaving the circle bc andrale also expects everyone to get up and moving crazy early. and after officially becoming a warden it gets even worse when she starts having Warden Nightmares ahah

dog or cat person: cat person! she's a bit like morrigan when it comes to dogs. thinks they're stupid n gross lol. though she does eventually warm up to the dog (named assan by andrale <3) in dao.

dream trip: honestly anywhere is fine she is full of wanderlust... what living in a tower for 19 years does to a gal... the whole blight adventure is a dream trip to her i bet. yes she has to fight darkspawn and a horrible death is around every corner but consider: she gets to see ancient elven ruins and denerim and orzammar... so many sights to see and so many new experiences! she feels so alive! and she gets to use her powers to their full extent!! she gets to hone her skills beyond what the circle allowed!!! not that the circle's rules stopped her from studying outlawed magic in secret but like. now she doesn't have to do it in secret anymore.

a trip to tevinter would also be interesting from a purely academic standpoint. nevarra as well because it's more liberal with magic than most of thedas but also safer for her than tevinter? so basically she would like to see the whole world but especially places where she gets to expand her knowledge on magic...

favorite fictional character: in a real world au her favorite fictional character would be morgana pendragon from bbc merlin. this is not at all influenced by the fact that one of my inspirations for her was morgana pendragon from bbc merlin,

number of blankets they sleep with: hmmmm one

random fact: i'm sharing two random facts bc i can't decide which one of these is more interesting or whatev:

celyn is basically the toph to andrale's katara. they have somewhat clashing personalities and differing views on teamwork and the sharing of camp chores... andrale expects everyone to contribute while celyn only looks after herself. also despite her excitement she's kinda terrified to be out in the real world but she won't let it show!! so she acts hyper-independent!!! unfortunately for her andrale can see right through this facade and she calls celyn out on it (she tries to be gentle and constructive about it but she's had it with celyn's shit and fails). so. yea. my point is they argue a lot at first lol! but they become great friends once celyn learns teamwork and communication and andrale loosens up a little

whenever she does fire magic she makes the flames hot enough for them to turn blue, purely for the aesthetic. she also enjoys other ways of showing off with her magic and she was Very competitive in the circle. she simply had to be the best in her class and let the other students know that she was above them. most of her fellow students could not stand her because of this <3

[lilmcttens]

Strange Dream

Guys. I had a strange dream. I’m gonna write it down before I forget it. Because it was very vivid and I’m trying to remember important details. Could be an interesting read I’ll classify it as “strange drabble” if enough of you enjoy it Let me know. 

It went something like this… The school of Hexside went on another school trip to some forbidden kind of woods to increase the magic skills of the school. This year the a lot of upperclassman were leading the expedition and they like took a boat on the boiling sea and whatnot to get there. Think like (Hunter if he attended Hexside) Jerbo, Barkus, Viney, Edric, and Emira, and so many others were are in charge. 

Ed & Em were kind of excited to prank all the younger kids including Luz and Co. but as they are getting ready to pull off the “Prank of the Century” out of the blue the school lost sight of the Hexside student Amity Blight. 

Of course, their hearts sink no one can find her. It’s occurred to the two twins as well having a feeling like she’d done this before, but that was scarier because Amity was younger and it was due to their mother. Viney offers to help she allows Em to ride around with her on the Puddles to search the sky’s. Meanwhile Jerbo and Barkus stick to the grounds Barkus is sniffing for her aura and her scent.

Edric is quick to point out. “Ya know if I had a pet  bat maybe we could have more eyes in the skies!” But Viney is quick to shut him down.

“Can it please. The important thing we do now is find your sister. We will all be in so much trouble. We are in charge of them. We’re responsible for what happens.”

Luz, Willow, and Gus, and even Matt joins the search to help Gus and even helping Amity out as a person. However, they all aren’t having much luck either. Constantly they are all shouting her name while King is hiding in Luz’s bag terrified of the camp site they are on and wishes the school had not sent them here. He stowed away in Luz’s bag with Luz’s knowledge that he was in there, but now things are getting scary. 

Tension is high as Principal Bump is beside himself because he’s lost a valuable student. Not only will he get grief from the wealthy family, but He Knows her she loves to learn, she’s bright, she’s helpful, and he’s always been impressed by her knowledge and cunning. All the while cries a tad, but also searches using his abominations to comb through the brush.

Alone and scared Amity is stuck in vines in a murky swamp and she has fallen into the gross waters and trying to stay up and keep afloat but the vines have tangled her!

Luz is the first to spot her and calls out her name! In turn, Willow calls out her name too! Amity shouts back with the little oxygen she has left in her lungs. Gus works very hard breaking a stick to hold out to the water for her to grab! Matt holds his waist trying to make sure he doesn’t fall in. Amity grabs onto it, but co. falls in all struggling but not nearly as bad as the Blight child.

Hark! The older teenagers shout out that they see them! Ed and Em riding on Puddles slapping each other playfully for control. VIney hits their heads together. They see the kids and all leap into action! Jerbo lifts Matt out of the water by his hood. 

He helps lift Willow and Gus out of the water! Edric runs into the water and retrieves Luz. All of the younger teens gasping for air. Barkus drags King by his collar free from the gunk. The abominations start sacrificing themselves to make a path.

 Viney shouts all scared.

“Ami is tangled up in vines she cannot swim!”

Emira says “Show me where Amity is!”

Willow recovers from coughing and says. “Yes please. I’ll go too!”

They together all dive down with Viney. Viney uses a witch’s knife to cut the vines off of her. Emira also uses a pocket knife to cut some vines off. Willow is commanding a majority of the vines to release her friend with her plant magic.

King, Barkus, and Edric and the rest of the students watch from above. 

“What is taking so long?” Luz cries. King trembles. “Oh Amity come up..” he is terrified. Together kids manage to release the Blight from her confines and she comes up violently gasping for air! Her clothes are kind of tattered and somewhat very ripped.

Now Everyone starts to calms down when they get back to the campsite. Amity explains she was trying to get away from all the chaos and wound up lost when everyone disappeared. Without the buddy system to which Bump scolds her for, but seeing her safe she’s not in huge trouble.

However ,she can’t get off the hook from her brother and sister who are not allowing her to get up. The trembling twins can’t bring themselves to let go of her. Sighing they have protectively begin sitting side by side at her and holding her hands by the fire throughout the rest of the evening.

King asks. “Amity you gonna be okay?” She nods and sighs wrapping a blanket around her. “I’ll be fine. I’m just wet.” She complains. “Sorry for all the trouble I caused. I guess that wasn’t much help finding the magical creatures after all.”

Viney shakes her head “No.” to this. “Aww don’t talk that way little one just stay there and rest until you feel better.”

In a moment of desperation Edric and Emira make a tent change. They politely ask Bump if Amity can stay with them in their tent.  The twins had planned to all be separated, . . . but now! Now they were too scared to let Amity out of their sight! He nods and agrees smiling warmly at the Blights after all that’s happened. It was not a bad idea because now that everything is alright and well he should allow them to it. Principle Bump may not always see eye to eye with the older Blights, but at least he knows how much family is very important.

Luz gives Amity a hug and kiss, Willow and Gus join in on the hug. Matt smiles relieved his classmate is okay. She is a little miffed that her siblings did this. Then the younger girl is protesting she why she can’t be in a tent with her friends. She is very mouthy about this but losing energy fast. Her older brother and sister just pick her up together while she’s about to fall asleep whining for the night. 

“No. No. Let me go. I’m not tired.” 

“Glad you’re safe, kiddo.” They both say. 

[takerfoxx]

The Owl House, Season 1, Episode 3, First Impressions!

Ah, there she is!

Okay, so, as expected, third episode opens up the world a bit more and introduces us to some very important elements, and other than one small complaint, it’s probably my favorite episode thus far because of it.

Because now we get to see the school, yay!

And it’s more-or-less what I expected: Hogwarts meets Weirdmaggedon, sans the boarding school aspect. So basically, exactly what Luz wants and what Eda holds in contempt. Which is really funny, since given that Luz was the chaotic rebel back in her world, one would think that she’d prefer Eda’s more chaotic style, so I guess her issue wasn’t really the structure of school but rather the content? 

Anyway, we also meet some very important members of the cast, including the much-hyped Amity Blight. And it would seem that I was right in that she’s comparable to Pacifica Northwest or Cordelia Chase: the rich alpha bitch. Normally I would have an instant dislike for those characters, but since I already know that she and Luz will eventually have a, ahem, thing going on, I just found her entertaining. Also, calling it now! She acts the way she is because of lonely rich kid syndrome coming from a neglectful family that doesn’t give her the validation that she craves unless she makes them look good!

We also meet Luz’s new buddies, Willow (and boy, is that ever a loaded name if ever I heard one!) and Gus! Willow was sweet and adorable, but she will probably be playing second fiddle to Amity once the rivalry gets going, and Gus fanboying over humans and Luz just kind of rolling with it and confusing his misconceptions even more as a laugh was a hoot (no pun intended). 

Also, I note with amusement that Luz was really grossed out by digging around the dead monsters with Eda but wasted no time covering herself with abomination goo if it meant getting into a magical school. Girl knows what she wants, I’ll give her that.

Haven’t said much about the B-plot, since it’s mostly just an amusing way to keep Eda and King distracted, but seeing how personally Eda took Luz going somewhere else to learn was interesting. Hell, when she lost the bet and was supposedly exiled from her own house, she didn’t even seem to care, as the Luz thing was what was really bothering her! Well girl, if you want the kid to stick around, then step up and actually start teaching her! I know you’re all about that school of hard knocks thing, but c’mon. Put in the work.

My only real complaint about this episode was how things with Amity’s abominations and the headmaster got resolved offscreen. Like, they were building up this big Eda comes to the rescue thing, only to say, nope, it’s all good, everything’s squared away and Willow is studying plants now! It feels...too easy, I guess, but that’s a minor complaint in the grand scheme of things. 

Anyway, we got our cast filling out, so I’m interested to see how things escalate from here.

[border-spam]

(Featuring @godkingsanointed ‘s amazing OC JK)

  Mid COV

   “There’s a H… there." 

Seifa tapped a black nail into the paper Jak-Knife was staring at so intently their mask’s front grill brushed against the page. They let out a rumbling groan, slowly shaking their head side to side as she reassuringly patted their hand, leaning pressed against the length of their back so she could peer down at the scrawled letter splayed on the table in front of them.

"A H? Why??” they whined, cupping the sides of their head in calloused hands with a dejected sigh. Words were stupid.

It had been a long day for both of them.

Sei had only just made it to her ship after a night of red tape and managing delays in her office below. Tyreen’s Saints had incredible skill in somehow making sure their daily business ended up impacting Troy’s in some way. Missing shipments, deadlines shifted far shorter than possible with no warning, the usual shit. She’d sat for hours after her shift, gritting her teeth while pouring through their condescending e-coms, pausing every now and then to distract herself from the frustration by catching flashes of today’s arena stream.

The Blight Devil had ripped through raiders on the flickering office screen as her papers shuffled. Heretics who’d led an assault on a protected settlement and refused to repent now faced the Holy Father’s executioner, a fitting end to parasites sucking lifeblood from the isolated villages the COV kept in food and medical supplies.

She’d found them after the fight as she left her office that night, leaning silently against the elevator gate in the lower workshop that lead to her ship docked above the Mechanicum. Head bowed and tilted to the side, ankles crossed and arms folded across their chest. They were spotless as usual, arena blood expertly removed from their skin, but the weight of the fight was visible on their frame - tired and quiet.

They’d perked out of their doze as she approached, and lifted a bag filled with something hot and spicy from the Slums as a greeting. JK was always like this. They had as much an open invitation to her home as the others, but while she’d retire some nights and find Ven and Eli already smiling cheekily from her kitchen table and expecting dinner to appear now that she’d gotten home, or Troy curled up asleep in the same tiny wall cot that she’d told him was his years ago, JK never entered without her.

Always waited by the elevator with offering in hand, a gift of food or beer like an olive branch. Habit, she figured. Something from a life of survival in Pandora’s roaming clans she’d maybe never understand, but she could appreciate even though she reassured them it wasn’t needed every single time.

She could tell they were struggling to keep going now still, heavy muscle shifting under her ribs as they groaned at the letter covered in smudged ink between their elbows on the kitchen table, muttering about the rogue “H” through their mask’s respirator.

Words made no damn sense, even less when they were marked down in writing.

 Bandit cant had always served JK well, icons, symbols, communication scratched into rocks and dirt and corpses with the tips of jagged blades. Writing was pointless, they’d been told that for as long as they could remember. Adults in their clan had mocked newcomers to Pandora, said their big words and fancy letters were just to hide behind. A mask without a mask, so they could pretend they were better, stronger than the salt and blood of the earth that crawled across the planet’s dusty wastes in scavenging mobs.

You didn’t need to write or read when your family could respond like a singular pack unit to bird whistles or rhythmic pounding on dry rock. Learning would be a waste of time and resources better used to serve the marauding horde.

This H was a waste. The flimsy, golden pen clutched in their calloused fist was a waste, a symbol of wealth, education, of weakness on Pandora. If it hadn’t been a gift, they’d…

“Because without the H it says tanks. Like, war-machines, you know?” Seifa laughed, pushing against them to her feet and shooting a deadeye finger gun at their chest with a silent pow as she back stepped to her side of the table.

“But gotta say, that looks like a love letter, JK” she grinned, lowering herself into her seat with an ungraceful thump.

“..She a fan of tanks?”

They huffed quietly, refusing to meet the shit-eating grin they knew she was aiming at them as she shuffled the papers in front of her and leaned back into her chair with a creak of wood.

“She likes tanks, yeah. She.. likes all weapons. All machines. Makes ‘em, fixes 'em..” they murmured as Seifa clicked her tongue in response, wolf whistling.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.”

“She’s… my kind of woman.” Jk replied through a crackling laugh, scratching the pen against the paper with practiced concentration. “She should have nice things like.. letters. She should have poems, songs.. chants… and thank you.” they looked up, catching Sei’s inquisitive gaze “Thank you for helping me.” She followed their hand, gesturing towards the paper with a blunt finger.

Sei laughed, smoothing loose hair back over her shoulder. “Don’t thank me, pal. I think if anything, I’m using you as a distraction..” she sighed, expression turning somber as she dropped the stack of papers to the table in front of her, grimacing. 

“This jank is terrible.”

“Words?” they offered, lenses catching the light as their eyes followed her when she stood. 

“Nah JK, numbers” she scoffed, rolling sore shoulders as she stepped towards the kitchen counter to their side. “WAY worse. Listen, want to try something gross?” the chair struggling to support their bulk squeaked behind her as JK turned to face the cupboard she was rooting through. “I got this new coffee..-somewhere.. where is..- Ahh!”

“I like coffee, sure!” they chuckled with a nod, thumping their fist onto the little table the pair had been sharing in her ship’s kitchen

“This coffee though - ” she corrected smugly “This coffee has been shit out of some horrible little monkey thing on Eden-2” she smirked, stifling a giggle in response to the barking guffaw that erupted behind her.

“WHAT” they yelled through the muffle of the mask’s filters, deep voice cracking in amusement.

Sei turned, waving the foil bag towards them playfully as she leaned back against the counter.

“I’m not joking, gift from an ore dealer me and Ven had to sweet talk into very generous trade agreements on Astrensis a month ago. I don’t know if he was trying to impress me or what, but this is basically worth its weight in platinum and it’s-”

“ - It’s shit juice!” JK gasped between rolling belly laughs.

“It’s fuckin’ shit juice pal, you’re not wrong!” she chuckled, smile wrinkling across her nose as she flipped the coffee maker’s switch, grinning softly as the clunky hiss of the machine filled the little kitchen quarters.

Jk sighed happily behind her, twisting to stare at their paper again. “Rich people are so wrong. They don’t belong, not here, waste everything. Just walking sacks of ego thinking their paper money will stop this place taking its due from 'em”. They grunted thoughtfully, then continued in a quieter tone.

“I thought you were a rich person when we first met, another off-worlder.”

Seifa turned, wide-eyed in surprise at the comment.

JK was someone she’d known for years now, but even with so many hours of quiet time together in this ship, a quiet hiding hole away from the Holy City’s heaving bustle and fame both their titles reluctantly carried, even after all this time, they rarely spoke of their own feelings in this manner. JK’s thoughts were something they held deep in their chest, opinion’s they’d share, advice they’d willingly give, but their thoughts? She wanted to hear more, it was an unusual glimpse into an incredibly interesting mind.

“You thought I was rich?” she balked, pointing towards her chest. “How? You seen the way I live?”

Their head tilted, turning slowly to glance around the cabin. Clean, homely. Plants and textiles covering cracked wall panels… repaired and well-maintained kitchenware, the coffee machine behind her newer than nearly anything else surrounding it. They shifted, looking down at the polished and well loved table, the stains and scratches buffed but still visible in the finish. Years of love and use.

They made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a laugh, tilting their head slowly to the side. “Not about what you own, Seifa. It was how you carry yourself. You’re the only person in the room till you don’t want to be, then you were never there at all. Eyes miss you.” they rumble.

“Don’t belong here. Don’t belong out there either, in the city. Covered in gold, thought you were like the others. You aren’t though.” JK hums, shifting their eyes to the scrapped together coffee machine behind her.

“..You’re like him.”

She’d laugh if that wasn’t such an insult, rolling her eyes and huffing a chuckle into her fist.

“Thanks. What a compliment.” she groaned, flashing a quick grin before lifting a finger to scratch at her jaw thoughtfully. "… I’m not rich though I fleece the twins for all they are worth, sure, but that’s just good business.“ the homemade machine behind her whistled quietly as she paused, breathing deep the acrid aroma of roasted coffee wafting through the room.

"My clan might not be called that, but it’s still what they are. We’ve a creed of support. One of us does well for themselves? Strikes it rich? Lucks a factor as much as skill. There’s 10 bad deals for every good one.. some get a real bad streak, JK.” they nodded, understand her meaning if not her experiences.

“There were times before the twins where I needed help from family, care packages and donations to keep my ship running and fuel tanks full, now I repay that debt with what I earn here, spread the wealth to others who struggle now like I did then.” Seifa shrugged, uncomfortable in sounding anything close to generous regardless of the truth. “ It’s our creed, like I said. Family first.”

Jk grunted, nodding to themself as they stared at the table in front of them, the scrunched letter in shaky lines.

“Family first..” they echoed, not quite to themself, and not quite to her either.

Family.

They let their eyes rest on the pen gripped in their hand, tilting it slowly. The solid gold barrel reflecting light the same way the gilded fangs in his crooked grin had as he pressed the box into their open palm. Troy had been so happy when he handed them the case, blushing and shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for them to open it. They’d not known what to do with the contents, looking back and forth between the solid gold pen and him awkwardly. Waiting for him to explain how they should react, anxiously hoping he’d guide them as always.

He’d laughed, plucking it from the case and pointing at the name etched into the bodywork.

“It’s for you, see, it’s your name like we p-practiced. J.a.k-.k.n.i.f.e, see it?” his hand had been trembling with excitement, cheeks flushed and smile squinting his eyes as he loomed over them, pressed close enough to hear his ragged breaths.

“Now when you write you’ll know I got your b-back, yeah? I’ve got your back, understand? 'Cus you’ll know that I know you can do it, and I’ll keep teaching you.”

They hadn’t known what to say, the words that felt right were choking in their throat. They knew Troy often compared himself cruelly to them, would emasculate himself by placing aspects of who they were on a pedestal then berate himself for not reaching. It was hard to communicate their awareness of it with him. He was so easily hurt by his weaknesses being recognised, it was easier to pretend they didn’t notice and insist on complimenting him when they spotted him sinking under his own detrimental thoughts. Lift him up when they saw him flag.

But this, writing? Reading? Troy was excellent at this. It was something he could help them with, and as soon as he’d realised they could do neither, he’d jumped on the opportunity to teach them. They understood it was a repayment of his own volition, even if they couldn’t understand why God King Calypso would feel like he’d owed them in any way. They were his guard. They shielded him. They didn’t need to be thanked, you don’t need to thank a brother…

Seifa waited for as silence fell between them, giving JK the chance to continue, but they said nothing, nodding almost imperceptibly as they continued to stare at the pen.

They got lost sometimes in the depths under that mask, but the people close to them understood, and it was easy enough to bring JK back into the current. Wait a moment, give them a chance to snap back, then pull them back into the conversation.

She cleared her throat to break the quiet.

“So, is this lady rich then? If she likes poems and songs… and weapons?”

It snapped them out of their daze immediately, turning snake quick to glare through the mismatched lenses at her instead.

“She… she has money yes, she works hard. Very hard. I don’t know if she even would like a poem. It’s just something.. I see sometimes on the echonet, those movies Troy watches.”

“You give poems to great women, don’t you…?” their voice caught on a question towards the end, something they weren’t wording but clearly needed an answer for.

Sei stepped towards them, reaching out to lay a hand on their shoulder as she carefully arranged the words that felt most right for them.

“Maybe..” she started tentatively, leaning down a little to meet their eyes through the mask’s glass. “..if that’s what she wants, sure. But it sounds like this woman doesn’t need fancy things, JK. Sounds like she’s plenty good at seeing the truth of what things are, huh?”

They nodded emphatically, the quiet choking sounds from under their mask emphasising their eagerness to agree.

“Thought so” Sei grinned cheekily. “Why not write how you see her then, huh? No poems, just the truth of how things are.” They rumbled as she patted their shoulder, turning back to the small kitchen to prepare their drinks.

She smiled triumphantly to herself as the welcoming sound of the pouring coffee mixed with the scratching of their pen behind her, before it was interrupted by a stern grunt.

“Seifa, how do you spell refuge?”

[verhdelstanddelosbesos24ky]

Ver Película — “El stand de los besos 2″ Online en Español HD

El Stand de los Besos 2 (2020) HD 1080p Latino Ver HD, Peliculas Online o Descargar en calidad HD y en español latino (Dual Latino-Inglés) 1080p, 720p y 4K,

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El stand de los besos 2 (Mi primer beso 2 en españa) Película Netflix original 2020 sacudió el cine español y latinoamericano.

SINOPSIS Título original The Kissing Booth 2 Año 2020 Duración 130 min. País Reino Unido Reino Unido Dirección Vince Marcello Guion Jay S Arnold, Vince Marcello Fotografía Anastas N. Michos Productora Distribuida por Netflix. Coproducción Reino Unido-Estados Unidos; Komixx Entertainment Género Romance | Comedia romántica. Adolescencia. Secuela

Reparto Joey King, Molly Ringwald, Jacob Elordi, Maisie Richardson-Sellers, Joel Courtney, Carishma Basday, Joshua Daniel Eady, Meganne Young, Kai Luke Brummer, Frances Sholto-Douglas, Camilla Wolfson, Taylor Zakhar Perez, D. David Morin, Michelle Allen, Bianca Bosch, Bianca Amato, Nathan Lynn, Morné Visser, Chase Dallas, Judd Krok, Toni Jean Erasmus, Motsi Tekateka, Shana Mans, Carson White, Noa Milan, Matthew Dylan Roberts, Dylan Edy, Grant Ross

Resumen Elle Evans, que debe tomar decisiones sobre la universidad, afronta su relación a distancia con Noah Flynn, que se marcha a Harvard, su cambiante relación con su mejor amiga Lee y lo que siente por un nuevo y carismático compañero de clase de nombre Marco (Taylor Zakhar Perez).

HISTORIA Y CRITICAS

El stand de los besos (The kissing both) 2018 Pelicula

‘The Kissing Booth’: Netflix’s Teen Comedy Sensation Is Sexist and Outdated — Review

Netflix might be trying to corner the market on big-budget spectacles from some of Hollywood’s hottest names — from the $90 million “Bright” to its multi-picture deal with Adam Sandler and Martin Scorsese’s much-hyped “The Irishman” — but the streaming giant has quietly planted its stake in a less ambitious place: romantic comedies. So far this year, Netflix has released six original films that are classified as rom-coms, with at least three more on the way before the year closes out. And it’s on to something here: 2017’s “A Christmas Prince” was such a smash hit for the outfit that it has already prepped a holiday sequel.

Netflix’s newest hit-in-the-making, “The Kissing Booth,” is kicking up similar attention. Unfortunately, the high school-set rom-com is a sexist and regressive look at relationships that highlights the worst impulses of the genre. Netflix isn’t new to the sub-genre of teen rom-coms, and it has already succeeded with other picks. Later this month, Craig Johnson’s delightful “Alex Strangelove” will arrive on the streaming service, and last month saw the introduction of Olivia Milch’s “Dude,” a female-driven comedy in the vein of other raunchy features like “Bridesmaids” and “Mean Girls.”

Films like that are indicative of the outfit locking down yet another piece of Hollywood magic and serving its viewers something they want to see, even if the traditional studio system isn’t giving it to them, but “The Kissing Booth” is a strange blight on that run. The film combines classic narrative tropes of the genre — think a low-budget mishmash of “Pretty in Pink,” “Never Been Kissed,” “Mean Girls,” and “10 Things I Hate About You�� — but is also hobbled by a gross understanding of gender dynamics and what makes a healthy relationship.

And that’s to say nothing of its approach to depicting sexual harassment, frequent slut-shaming of its leading lady, and attempting to romanticize a “bad boy” love interest who mainly seems interested in getting in physical fights and then loudly mouthing off about his possessive tendencies. Cute, huh?

The movie, written and directed by Vince Marello (best known for his film versions of stories from the “American Girl” doll franchise), is an adaption of the Beth Reekles novel of the same name, and starts off with a relatively sweet premise. Elle (Joey King) and Lee (Joel Courtney) have been best friends since birth, “raised like twins” by their mothers, who also happen to be life-long best friends. (One of the moms is even played by Molly Ringwald, to give the film further rom-com bonafides.) They’ve been obsessed with Dance Dance Revolution since they were tiny, and while their private high school appears to be a clique-y kind of place, they’ve grown into popular-ish kids who are grounded by their bond.

The first act of “The Kissing Booth” plays out in predictable fashion, as Elle wrestles with her growing feelings for Noah as he alluringly teases her, engaging in the kind of push-pull will-they-won’t-they dynamic that’s always been a hallmark of the genre. And yet, even in its earliest moments, “The Kissing Booth” is preoccupied with sexist rhetoric and a willingness to apologize for Noah’s alarming behavior.

Elle (who, it must be noted, is just charming, thanks to King’s bubbly performance) has a lot going for her, including a plucky personality that manages to find all kinds of solutions for weird problems. Early in the film, Elle tears her last pair of school-issued pants, and unable to rustle up any other options, is forced to head off to school wearing a two-year-old skirt (too small, but at least part of the dress code). The moment she hits campus, she’s assaulted by catcalls from nearly all of her fellow male students (a real “boys will be boys” moment that imagines that all teenage boys are simply unable to do anything beyond scream epithets at pretty girl they’ve known for years, if she’s wearing a short piece of clothing).

It gets worse, as Elle is groped by another student, leading Noah to physically assault him (predictable). Elle lands in the principal’s office — an awkward enough twist, given she’s the actual victim here — and things only get worse from there. Both Lee (again, her best friend and typically a sweet guy) and the school’s principal tell Elle that she was “asking for it” by wearing the skirt. It’s a laughably regressive moment, such obviously outdated thinking, but “The Kissing Booth” just keeps plugging along.

The parking lot-set fisticuffs helps pave the way for Elle and Noah’s tentative romance, with Noah first brushing off his behavior as springing from a place of familial affection for Elle, while she wonders if it’s a sign that he has deeper feelings for her. Despite this run-of-the-mill and wholly relatable high school romance (who has never felt like Elle?), “The Kissing Booth” remains enamored of Noah’s defining characteristics: he’s got a seriously violent streak who gets turned on by jealousy and demonstrates some weirdo possessiveness that never abates.

This is not an exaggeration. Noah’s affection for getting into fights — often very brutal ones — becomes a large part of the film. Elle even lays down a rule that he can’t fight anymore if he wants them to be together (His response: “You know, you’re cute when you’re bossy”), and later gets him to admit that his family has struggled to deal with it, even sending him to counseling with no lasting impact. It’s “kinda just how I’m wired,” he muses, and that’s all there is. Later, Lee briefly worries that Noah has hit Elle, a jarring moment in a film marketed as a fluffy rom-com for teens. And Elle constantly acquiesces to him, even when it feels dangerous.

El stand de los besos 2 Pelicula completa Netflix

Una escena de El stand de los besos 2 Netflix: El stand de los besos 2, una confusa comedia adolescente

El stand de los besos 2 (Estados Unidos, 2020). Dirección: Vince Marcello. Guion: Vince Marcello, Jay S. Arnold, basado en las novelas de Beth Reekles. Elenco: Joey King, Jacob Elordi, Joel Courtney, Taylor Zakhar Perez. Duración: 130 minutos. Disponible en: Netflix. Nuestra opinión: mala

La experiencia de ver El stand de los besos 2 es desconcertante. Se trata de una secuela del film estrenado en Netflix en 2018 que resultó ser un enorme éxito, según los datos de la plataforma. Basadas en las novelas escritas por Beth Reekles a través de la aplicación colaborativa Wattpad, ambas películas tienen como protagonista a Elle (Joey King), una estudiante de secundario que vive en un mundo de fantasía digno de una historia animada de Disney. La escuela a la que asiste, sus compañeros, sus actividades y sus amigos tienen el espesor dramático de una hoja de papel y sus intenciones, matices o pasiones entrarían en una carilla de esa misma hoja.

Inverosímil y sin un atisbo de realismo o actualidad, la trama parece estar dirigida al público adolescente o preadolescente pero, y ahí es dónde comienza el desconcierto. Difícilmente le interesen los constantes montajes que resumen los mejores momentos de los personajes a un grupo etario que baila en TikTok y se comunica a través de Instagram, ni tampoco los artificiales diálogos que abundan en el film. O tal vez sí. Pero con una puesta en escena más cercana a ciertos telefilms apuntados al público infantil y una historia que se ocupa de tratar a los cuerpos de sus personajes como objetos para admirar y a sus cerebros como un accesorio resulta complicado identificar al espectador ideal de El stand de los besos 2.

Es posible que sus realizadores hayan tenido la misma dificultad. Puestos a adaptar la historia escrita por una joven mujer de 16 años, los dos guionistas adultos reinterpretaron la fantasía adolescente en sus propios términos y terminaron con una película de dos largas horas y diez minutos que nunca se preocupa por hacer de su protagonista un personaje mínimamente interesante, que exista más allá de su relación con los hombres de su vida, a los que en esta vuelta se suma Marco (Taylor Zakhar Perez), el chico nuevo de la escuela. Construido, aparentemente, utilizando la información provista por una encuesta, el muchacho tiene un poco de Noah Centineo (A todos los chicos de los que me enamoré), una pizca de el propio Elordi y algo de los protagonistas de Elite y su exótico atractivo latino filtrado por el algoritmo de Netflix.

Etiquetas:

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[tes-trash-blog]

Mycosis, Or A Slightly More Scientific Take On How The Falmer Came To Be

(Alt title: I’m Never Eating Mushrooms Again)

Yep. This is happening.

Preface: This essay/rant/overanalysis is focusing only on the theoretical physical and biological aspects Falmer devolution. Expect a shorter rant on the spiritual aspect on a later date, thanks to oyarsas.

Part 1. Just Who Were The Falmer Anyway? A Brief Primer

According to the one surviving Snow Elf in Skyrim, the ancient Falmer were a wealthy and advanced race of Elves that occupied a portion of Skyrim during the Merethic Era. A few shenanigans, some unspeakable war crimes, and a genocide later, the remnants of this race fled underground into the waiting arms of the Dwemer. They laid it down in simple terms:

“Many of your people had perished under the roaring, snow-throated kings of Mora, and your wills were broken, and we heard you, and sent our machines against your enemies, to thereby take you under. Only by the grace of the Dwemer did your culture survive, and only by the fifteen-and-one tones did your new lives begin.”

(Fun fact: If you translate the Stone using Ayleid words, it’s actually a lot more sinister!)

This wasn’t out of the goodness of their hearts, as the Dwarves were, in objective terms, dicks. While they didn’t want tearful songs of gratitude or boot-licking, they weren’t about to let a bunch of homeless and traumatized Elves, y’know, recover. No, they wanted something.

“We only request you partake of the symbol of our bond, the fruit of the stones around us. And as your vision clouds, as the darkness sets in, fear not.”

That something was their sight, and their obedience. Given what very little we know about Snow Elven culture, this looked to have been a bit of a big deal. After all, all the Prelates at Auri-El’s wayshrines implement light and sight in their blessings, much of the surviving iconography depicts the sun and its radiance, and what few surviving accounts remain mention the “dread of night” and “blessed sun”.

This wasn’t a decision made lightly, is what I’m getting at. The fact they agreed at all surely meant the Dwarves could do what they wished. Seeing some of the more elaborate torture chambers and traps, we can safely assume they did.

The Blinding happened in the Late Merethic Era, some hundreds of years before the Dragon War and the beginning of the First Era. Now comes the fun part.

And by fun part, I mean gross part.

Part 2. Can’t We Just Wrap This Up And Blame The Dwarves?

It wouldn’t be an overanalysis if I did, now would it?

There are theories abound as to how the Dwarves corrupted them, or they were part of a failed experiment (Underkiing, Lord_Hoot). This essay is going to ignore these theories, and focus on the more biological aspects of the Falmer transformation. Starting with a quote from the last surviving Snow Elf:

“The blinding of my race was supposedly accomplished with a toxin. Certainly not enough to devolve them into the sad and twisted beings they've become.”

This is further supported with the poem The Betrayed:

“Thrown into the pitch black dread of night.

Living in fear as their minds become lost.

As their eyes began dimming the light.”

This lost book also points to the slow creeping of insanity among the Snow Elves, no doubt from the unspeakable horrors seen above ground and the fancy word that made me write this whole damn essay in the first place: Mycotoxin!

Mycotoxins are a broad name for the various types of poisons produced by the Fungi kingdom, specifically those that affect animals, humans, and in this case, Elves. From NCBI’s extensive article on Mycotoxins:

“The majority of mycotoxicoses, on the other hand, result from eating contaminated foods. Skin contact with mold-infested substrates and inhalation of spore-borne toxins are also important sources of exposure. Except for supportive therapy (e.g., diet, hydration), there are almost no treatments for mycotoxin exposure”

“[...] Acute toxicity generally has a rapid onset and an obvious toxic response, while chronic toxicity is characterized by low-dose exposure over a long time period, resulting in cancers and other generally irreversible effects.”

That sounds… bad.

So, there are few if any treatments for mycotoxin exposure, and the Dwarves were not ones to use magic, so the only feasible treatment for the mass-poisoning would have been a good diet and hydration, but something tells me the Dwarves were not keen on giving their slaves either of those. From the Diary of Faire Agarwen, we can reasonably deduce that conditions were cramped, dark, and damp even among those who had political clout:

“Seventh Marking, Tenth Kulniir

[...] Often the surroundings make it impossible to dwell on any happiness. We have been locked together in such close quarters for so long.”

Keep in mind here that a kulniir was a notched basin that functioned as a simple time keeper, using drops of water. The diary also mentions there’s no real natural light, so we see the combination of dark, damp, and cramped. This was from a woman who held some social capital. We can assume that conditions for your average Joe and Sally were much worse.

Even among the best of conditions, the Snow Elves were kept in were prime real estate for molds and fungi to thrive. There is (thankfully) no evidence to support my next claim, but it’s also not exactly a stretch of the imagination.

The Falmer: A Study makes clear that the blinding was a multi-generational effort. Within perhaps two or three generations, the Snow Elves were eternally blind. Adding to the permanent blindness, there very well could have been the more unpleasant, unwanted, and unplanned changes.

I’m talking about mutagens.

To pull a real life example, Fumonisin B1 can cause neural tube defects in utero, which means that the toxin affects the development of the brain and spinal cord, as well as the central nervous system. In extreme, chronic cases of fumonisin poisoning, it can keep the brain from forming into a viable state, causing stillbirths. In a universe where dragons fly around and singing plants can make poisons, it’s not too much of a stretch to say that there is something equally terrifying growing in Blackreach. Already blinded, chronically ill, and hopeless, the next generation of Snow Elves were doomed to an ever lower standard of living without even the knowledge that things could be better. Combine that with whatever mold infected whatever flora that grew underground, similar to how say, fumonisin blights grains and how black mold is generally Really Bad For You.. Well, we can assume that there was a more subtle force that guided them to their ferality than whatever the Dwarves did to them.

In the same way the lead pipes of Rome contributed to developmental problems among their populace, I can imagine the toxic spores creating more violent, more feral Falmer, until finally their very sentience was taken from them. Seeing as all of this culminated into a war that spanned decades, something tells me the Dwarves didn’t see that coming.

Part 3: So… CAN They Be Cured?

The short answer is no. From the words of the Knight Paladin himself:

“I'm afraid that they're well beyond a cure at this point. The twisted forms you've seen didn't occur overnight. It isn't a plague or a disease that ravaged our species. The dwarves may have stolen their sight, but it took many generations for them to become what they are today.”

And as found earlier, there are no effective cures for mycotoxin exposure, and I imagine even less for chronic, multi-generational poisonings like what happened to the Snow Elves of old. I’m assuming, but I really don’t want to ever see that tested in the field.

But not all is lost. Gelebor also notes that the modern Falmer have started to re-develop their intellect. This grabbed me, as the Forgotten Vale is vastly different than the caves and ruins you normally find Falmer in. There’s fresh air and cool breezes, and open spaces for those sad little gremlins to lurk about. In short, they’re away from the poisonous influences of those dark caves and toxic spores.

It’s entirely possible that the Falmer of the Vale are developing, and it’s in part because they’re no longer confined to the dark and damp that was their prison. It’s entirely possible that with enough time, and enough patience, the Falmer could slowly undo the effects of their chronic poisoning. Not enough to become the Snow Elves of legend, those days are long since past, but perhaps enough to break their chains, and finally put a voice to thousands of years of suffering.

Sources, inspirations, and tangentially related articles:

Mycotoxins, from the National Center for Biotechnology Information. A recommended primer on the nature of mycotoxins and their effects on more complex organisms.

Toxic effects of mycotoxins in humans, from the World Health Organization, another excellent starting point if you like reading about poisonous fungi.

Repeating Mistakes of the Past: Another Mycoherbicide Research Bill, a condemnation of using mycotoxins in of all things, drug control. This article also calls the use of mycotoxins against humans for what it is: Biowarfare. An interesting, insightful, and very depressing read.

A review of the toxic effects and mechanisms of action of fumonisin B1, from the journal Human and Experimental Toxicology. Behind a paywall, but the abstract sums it all up quite nicely.

A Wikipedia article on the Mexican Tetra, because I think they’re cute.

UESP, without which I would be even more of a babbling trash gremlin.

[zmutantsspare]

✧ ━━━  「 DANE DEHAAN , male, he/him」did you hear that JASPER EBNER just arrived at the mutant underground? I heard the TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD is on the run FROM HIS ANTI-MUTANT TWIN SISTER. It’s such a shame it had to come to that, but we’re glad they’re able to bring their DECAY MANIPULATION to our team, they’re sure to be a great addition to the rebellion. I’ve heard rumors going around that they’re introverted and paranoid, as well as empathetic and patient. In due time, we’re bound to unravel the truth. Will BLIGHT survive the war?  ╳ CHARACTER AESTHETIC: thick dust on empty apartment bookcases, the twisted sheets of an unmade bed, crushed leaves turning brown, yellowed bone dice with cracked surfaces, bandaged fingers wrapped around a cigarette, a vintage camera hanging on a weathered leather strap, faded photos stuffed into a water-stained journal, maps covered in x-marks to mark the past, blue eyes the color of a stormy afternoon, head tipped downward with a face half hidden by the edge of a black hoodie, pale hands tangled in dying vines.

Not to stereotype himself, but yes, he does like skulls and bones, decaying buildings and other macabre things. This doesn’t make him creepy though, he just has eccentric interests. The list of things that make him weird are entirely different than that, of course. But on the plus side he acknowledges that he’s a little strange. 

Stoic doesn’t mean lacking desire to be around people, Jasper likes people; he just isn’t too good at conversation at times; but hey...he usually warms up. Most people know when he doesn’t like them, the tired look whenever they start talking to him isn’t too subtle but it is more polite than telling someone to stop talking. 

He loves his camera, taking photos; but it’s really awkward when people ask him to take their picture. He prefers candid shots, they’re more real. Even more awkward is when people try to take his picture, he hates that. 

His mutant power, decay, is admittedly gross. And yes, he’s done a few terrible things with it, destroyed a few buildings, killed a few plants, hurt a few people; he tries not to think too much about that. 

He’s a great listener. In fact he’d rather listen than talk so that works out well for everybody, right? He’s not a fan of talking about himself; it’s a bit uncomfortable figuring out what to say. 

Family conversations are basically off limits. He’ll just shut down. 

He misses his sister like crazy though, misses less the fact that she keeps trying to get him killed or captured but he wants to see her some day again on good terms. 

Technically, yes, he’s rich. He doesn’t spent his money much though, unless he happens to overhear someone mention something they miss from their normal lives, or need. Then things will often ‘’turn up’ somewhere around the area with seemingly no reason to it; he’s not a fan of credit, he just wants to help without it being a big deal.

Anywhere around the Underground he’s probably lost a roll of film, dropped photos or snapshots, or something of that manner, without meaning to. 

But you can follow the trail to his own little area, because Jasper needs four walls to feel comfortable. His own space, in a corner of the area, walls plastered with photos and warm tones, earthy tones. 

Some of his favorite things are old books, old movies, and basically anything that doesn’t involve large crowds and a lot of chaos.

He’s still freaked out by large dogs, won’t generally panic over them unless they jump at him. That’s the sort of trigger that does make him lash out with his powers.

Most kids want a puppy growing up, Jasper wanted a spider; one of those big fuzzy ones.

Panic attacks are an issue, his has triggers that mostly deal with physical violence but confinement and restraint is also a problem. Said attacks manifest more in shutting down/non verbal response than aggression. 

The whole...being a hero idea is a perplexing one; he doesn’t want to be the bad guy in any situation but its’ an ongoing uneasy awareness that most anyone, himself included, could tip that way very easily. 

Jasper enjoys gambling, and he’s good at it. He knows a lot of the tricks, things he learned from his father. Good enough to keep his bank account pretty high, even if he’s a little uneasy knowing it’s a vice he inherited. 

The drinking occasionally and the smoking are all his own vices, yes, bad as they are. 

Yes, he dresses mostly in black or natural hues, to blend in more rather than stand out around people. The added benefit of that being that it means he doesn’t have to deal much with direct contact with people because he’s still not sure about how comfortable he is with the idea. 

He overhears more than he should, thus he knows a fair amount about people around him, but most of the things he learns he keeps to himself; he’s trying to avoid making enemies. 

Actually not bad in the leadership area, not the first to speak up but he’s very steady by nature and insightful, not prone to rash decisions. And he certainly does look out for people if he can.

[liaragaming]

Uncommon OC Questions, P2

Read part 1.

Continuing the character exercises to flesh out Inan Lavellan, Abigail Hawke, and Liara Tabris. I passed about a handful of these, but still a good questionnaire. Original meme can be found here.

1. A little-known talent of your OC?

Inan – Blackwall teaches her how to whittle one-handed after Trespasser. She makes lots of little wooden halla’s.

Abigail – She is very good with children, like so amazing. She was always looking after her younger siblings, and she just has a way with kids.

Liara – Leliana has told her she’s very graceful, like a dancer even though she’s had no training.

2. What trait does your OC like best about themself? (Eyes, guitar skills, random bird facts, etc)

Inan – likes her eyes and loves being a mage

Abigail – she enjoys looking good – putting on make up, styling her hair, mix and matching her wardrobe. Liara – she likes her hair and her knife skills. She’s very proud she taught herself.

3. How many pillows does your OC sleep with?

Inan – one

Abigail – so many

Liara – sometimes none, though she’s been assured that’s not good for her.

4. Is your OC good at keeping secrets?

Inan – if she feels it’s justified.

Abigail – she can keep them, but she’d rather no one came to her with them. She just doesn’t want to have to deal with it.

Liara – she is terrible at it.

5. Your OC's worst habit?

Inan – she ignores her own needs/wants to a detriment.

Abigail – beats herself up over the people she couldn’t save.

Liara – undervalues herself.

6. Does your OC prefer tennis shoes/sneakers or flip flops?

All: prefer comfortable, hardy boots that they can do their work in, though Abigail appreciates it when she can find ones that are functional and look nice.

7. What is your OC's opinion on body modifications?

All: I mean… sure? If you’re into that.

8. Your OC is given a full-ride scholarship to any college they could want to go to. Where do they go and what do they major in?

Inan – would learn everything she could about lost elven culture or history. Probably study in Tevinter.

Abigail – would have Fenris pick a subject so he could learn something new about something he’s interested in through her. Does matter where.

Liara – dance in Val Royeaux

9. What chore does your OC hate the most?

Inan – meeting dignitaries

Abigail – laundry

Liara – fighting darkspawn

10. Would your OC prefer to live in the city, the suburbs, or the country?

Inan – in the forest or among ancient ruins. Someplace with mysticism and history.

Abigail – she has grown to love the city

Liara – in the country, somewhere quiet and secluded where she and Leliana can live out their lives in peace.

11. Is your OC a blanket hog?

Inan – absolutely

Abagail – both her and Fenris hog the covers, so their nights end up in an unconscious tug of war.

Liara: No

12. Would your OC play by the rules in a fight or take cheap shots?

Inan: “What’s at stake in this fight?”

Abagail: “I can play by the rules so long as my opponent does the same.”

Liara: “Of course I’d follow the rules.”

13. Does your OC have a widow 's peak?

pass

14. Happy birthday! What kind of present would your OC want?

Inan: An eluvian that leads straight to Solas.

Abagail: A quiet day at home with Fenris.

Liara: A day with Leliana.

15. Something that grosses your OC out?

Inan: walking throw a spider web

Abagail: dirty dish water

Liara: getting sprayed with blood.

16. Your OC is suddenly on an adventure! Where do they go and what do they do?

All: No adventures, please. Just a nice place to rest with the love of my life would be grand.

17. Is there a real person that looks like your OC?

I did a quick google search, and I found one I like for Liara.

18. Something that makes your OC laugh without fail?

Inan: all of her friends

Abigail: most of her friends

Liara: Alistair or Leliana

19. Something that makes your OC cry without fail?

Inan: thinking about what might befall Solas

Abigail: “Why would you ask such a fucking insensitive question? Kindly fuck off, please and thank you.”

Liara: thinking she’ll never be able to share her life with Leliana the way she wants.

20. An obscure/ridiculous fear your OC has?

Inan: has too many real fears to worry about ridiculous ones.

Abigail: waking up one day to find everyone she knows and loves are gone and it’s her fault.

Liara: talking to people

21. Does your OC have any type of disability, whether it be mental, physical, etc?

Inan: she loses half her arm

Abigail: none

Liara: none

22. Does your OC get frustrated when people forget to close the door behind themselves?

Inan: she’s not used to having door, so… no

Abigail: yes

Liara: whatever

23. What is your OC's first memory?

Inan: Looking into her Keeper’s eyes.

Abigail: Giggling as her father throws her into the air.

Liara: Running around her home in the alienage being chased by her parents.

24. Something you like that your OC would hate?

Inan: all the time I spend indoors at the computer

Abigail: all the layers I wear

Liara: pumpkin pie

25. Your OC is going into battle/on a mission! What song is their anthem?

pass

26. Does your OC have good or bad posture?

Inan: good

Abigail: bad

Liara: she has no idea

27. Most despicable thing your OC has ever done?

Inan: let Celene die to put Briala in power

Abigail: tbd

Liara: allowed Morrigan’s Dark Ritual

28. Is your OC a conspiracy theorist?

Inan: does “everything is set up against the elves” count?

Abigail: no

Liara: does “everything is set up against the elves” count?

29. Someone does something awful in front of your OC. How do they handle it?

Inan: threatens them with a fireball

Abigail: is ready to smack some sense into whoever she needs to.

Liara: pulls out her knives

30. What is your OC's favorite drink?

Inan: red wine and herbal tea.

Abigail: ales

Liara: tea

31. Does your OC prefer to sleep in a warm or cool area?

Inan: warm

Abigail: cool Liara: warm

32. Would your OC like you if they met you?

They are all self-inserts, so I hope so!

33. A song that reminds you of your OC?

Inan: “Titanium” post Trespasser

34. Is your OC a nail biter?

Inan: no

Abigail: no

Liara: yes

35. What is your OC's favorite quote?

pass

36. Your OC's favorite fashion era? (20's, 70's, etc)

pass

37. Does your OC get excited when they get mail?

All: as long as it’s personal mail and not save-the-world related.

38. Random thunderstorm! How does your OC react?

Inan: finds someplace she can watch

Abigail: Uses it as an excuse to spend some quiet time at home.

Liara: “Oh, great.” Looks for shelter.

39. A strange talent of your OC?

repeat question

40. Assuming your OC doesn't have them already, what superpower would they want? If they do already, would they change it, keep it, or get rid of it?

Inan: she wishes she knew more healing spells

Abigail: If there was some magic that could keep all her loved ones safe, that would be nice.

Liara: cure for the blight

41. Does your OC like/make puns?

All: don’t make them, but don’t mind them.

42. What kind of shampoo does your OC use?

Inan: uses an herbal tea-like concoction as a rinse.

Abigail: soaps from the city market.

Liara: on the road, there are plants the Grey Wardens have told her to use. If she can’t find them, she just uses water and a comb. Otherwise, Leliana usually has soap for her.

43. Your OC wakes up with a coin super glued to their forehead. How do they react?

Inan: sighs and goes to find Sera

Abigail: Half annoyed, half amused. “Okay, whose bright idea was this?”

Liara: starts freaking out that someone in her group doesn’t like her

44. Can your OC sleep if there's any kind of light?

Inan: actually prefers some kind of natural light, like the moon or stars.

Abigail: prefers total darkness, but rarely gets it. She sleeps all right regardless.

Liara: light doesn’t bother her at all, but she needs have some kind of noise going on, like crickets or snoring or people talking.

45. What kind of self-esteem does your OC have?

Inan: pretty high

Abigail: less than she puts off

Liara: low

46. A word that your OC can't stand?

pass

47. Does your OC fold their clothes, hang them up, or just leave them in the basket/dryer?

Inan: folds her clean clothes, and puts the dirty in a hamper.

Abigail: hangs clean clothes, leaves her worn clothes in a pile by her bed. Eventually, she goes through them and decides what’s dirty and what can be worn again, and throws the dirty stuff in a hamper.

Liara: on the road, she tries to keep her dirty and clean clothes separate in her pack. Sometimes they get mixed up and she just washes everything. When not the road, she can’t shake the habit of living out her pack, and Leliana eventually hangs them up for her.

48. Would society call your OC a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are?

Inan: really isn’t sure. She’s done some good things as Inquisitor. But considering she put Briala in power at Celene’s death, the events of the Conclave, and impending war with Solas… she isn’t certain how she’ll go down in history.

Abigail: She fought to protect her city. She wants to do good, but she’s sure there’s people who see her otherwise.

Liara: good guy.

49. Your OC's most prized possession?

Inan: Solas’ necklace.

Abigail: a lock of hair from Fenris.

Liara: a locket from Leliana.

50. What is your OC's happy place?

Inan – the atrium at skyhold

Abigail – relaxing in her bed

Liara – anywhere with Leliana

[ramblinganthropologist]

My dearest pal Jenny was having a bad day and I couldn’t let that stand. Hope you like it. Summary: Throughout their travels, Sten had thought he had come to understand the woman he called his kadan. A bas song and a strange moment of miscommunication between them proves he’s still got a lot to learn, but he’s more than willing to do so.  Setting: That Modern Dragon Age AU, post Blight Pairing: Cherche Mahariel x Sten Word count: 2394

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“Warden, why are you taking me here?”

“Can't tell you. Just keep following.”

Sten rolled his eyes as he kept following behind Cahel. The young elf had grown over the years, but still wasn't very tall compared to most elves. Now he too bore the tattoos on his face that marked him as an adult, but they were blue compared to the jet black his mother wore. He had heard other people joke about how time passing and age crept up on you, but now he was really feeling it as he walked through the hall of Vigil's Keep.

He and Cherche had come for a visit a few days ago. Something about wanting to put the fear of the Creators into some new recruits. His kadan had spent her days chasing them around the courtyard, firing arrows at the slower ones and tripping those who she knew could do better. If it would have been approved, he would have set her on some of the new soldiers back home. They could use the instruction of someone who didn't plan things as thoroughly as Qunari did.

“How much further do we have to go?”

“What, your legs tired from keeping up with me, big guy?” The elf turned around, giving him the same gap-toothed grin he always did. Only now, it was paired with thin blue lines that crossed down his chin towards his neck. It must've hurt. “We're almost there, don't worry.”

There was something about how he was smiling that set Sten's stomach to flopping as they walked through the ancient halls of the stronghold turned Warden fortress. No doubt Cherche had planned something, but he had no idea as to what. She always managed to keep him on his toes that way, and some days it amused him. Others... well, they had an interesting bed life to say the least.

“So, how have you two been, anyway? Mamae leaves a lot out of her emails. Probably thinks I can't handle the gory details of living with a Qunari.”

Sten gave the back of the man's head a rather flat look as they kept walking. “Why? Do you require tips with your king?”

The red flush that colored the tips of Cahel's pointed ears were worth it, as was the tenor-tinged squeak that followed. A fully grown man, and the once-boy Warden still grew embarrassed when talks revolved around his love life. He knew enough from Cherche reading her emails aloud that he too was no longer a virgin, though what kind of nonsense the two got up to in bed was beyond in his interest.

“Just keep walking, Sten.”

That would be a point for him.

After a few minutes of walking, both were standing in front of a door marked by an arrow sticking out of the wood. He had seen that familiar patterning enough to know that the room belonged to Cherche, though she didn't get much use out of it. After all, she spent most of her time in Par Vollen with him, frustrating anything with or without horns in multiple fashions. It was one of her many charms, and the one he found most alluring. He would never admit that, though. She might get a big head.

Cahel knocked on the door. “I got him for you mamae. Good luck!”

He backed away and flashed the Qunari a grin before heading down the hall. Soon he was out of sight and Sten was left alone in the hallway. Cocking an eyebrow, he began to reach for the dusty knob, but it opened before him.

“He sure took his damn time. Come on in, vhenan.”

Cherche stood back to let him into the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary in her appearance as he entered and she closed the door behind him. Maybe she looked a little cleaner, but that might have been due to the fact that they were far from the sands and winds of Par Vollen. Here in Ferelden, the only thing someone really had to worry about was mud and dogs. Oftentimes, they went together in some sort of hellish mix that took nearly a year to get out of his armor the first time he had returned home. Now, he had just sort of given up and accepted it.

She directed him to sit on the bed. There were no ropes there waiting, so it wasn't for their usual arrangement. Sten sill sat as directed, careful to spread out his weight on as much of the area as possible. Whatever she was planning, a broken bed definitely wasn't in the cards.

“Is there a problem, kadan?”

For the first time since they had met, she looked as though she was about to throw up. Briefly, he contemplated the horror of horned children with glowing elf eyes before stowing it away with a shake of his head. Both her own words as a brief check up by a doctor back home had confirmed bearing children was impossible for Cherche. She had been particularly cheery about that, much to the surprise of the gazelle horned medical professional who had asked him later if she was going to be alright. Her guess had been as good as his at that point.

She took a shaky breath as she turned to face him. Her hands were behind her back, as if she was in parade rest. “Well, Sten...  we've known each other for a while now.”

“Four years and six months.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” Sweat dripped down her brow. “Anyway... we've been through a lot What with the Blight and me following you to Par Vollen. It's... been a lot of things that we've faced together.”

Sten cocked an eyebrow as he stared down at his flustered lover. “Is there something wrong with our arrangement, Cherche?”

Rarely did he use her name. Though she insisted it was fine, he was never able to get the r's just right. It sounded flat on his tongue, unlike the lyrical flowing that came from other people using it. Even humans sounded better than him, and that was saying something.

She straightened up to her full height, losing a little more color to her already pallid complexion. With the sweat dripping down her brow, Sten had to wonder if she might have been coming down with something. Perhaps her condition was becoming worse. He had heard when it was a Warden's time, they headed off to Orzammar to die. Maybe this was that point, and she was preparing to take that final walk alone. His stomach churned at the thought, even though he had prepared himself for this ages ago.

“No, nothing is wrong! Everything is fine!” Her voice was a half octave higher; it even cracked like poorly made glass. Cherche groaned as she ran a hand through her hair, mussing the neatly tucked back strands of red hair. When it was down, which was rare, it flowed across her shoulders and almost hid some of her famous tattoos.

She slapped her hand to her face when she was done. “There was just... something I needed to ask you, ok?”

Sten's theory about the long walk vaulted ahead by two points. Maybe he was to be part of the group that would carry her to her final rest. He knew enough about Dalish custom that her body needed to be buried under freshly dug earth, with seed planted just above her heart. She had showed him the seed once after a bad fight during the Blight just in case.

“If you're asking me if I remember the seed, I do.” He fought the urge to bite his lip. “Does much time remain?”

He had promised not to cry when the end came. She had made him do so, actually. Something about not wanting people sobbing over her gross corpse when everything was said and done. Reminded her too much of her late father's funeral. He could do that for her, though it would kill him.

Much to his surprise, Cherche shot him the strangest look. “Uh... what are you talking about?”

Sten felt heat creep across his face, though his expression remained blank. Thank the Qun for training. “You wish to discuss end of life options, correct? I remember what seed you wished to be buried over your heart. May I accompany you to Orzammar?”

There were a lot of things he had expected to happen after he spoke. Most likely, she would make a joke to lessen the sting. She might shake her head and let him know that only Wardens could accompany her to her resting place. Hell, she might have even pushed him on the bed for one last round before her body gave out on her. Any of those seemed likely.

What hadn't was the laughter.

Much to his shock, Cherche doubled over laughing. One hand went around her aching stomach while the other grasped at the end of her bed frame like it was her only lifeline left in this world. Her laughter echoed through the small room, reminding him of a bell that had been allowed to go out of tune for some time. It wasn't perfect, but it had a charm to it all its own that he would have missed if it was never heard again.

“Did I say something wrong?”

She held up her hand in the universal sign of pausing the conversation. Tears had to be wiped from her eyes as she stood, an errant chuckle escaping her lips as she finally straightened up. Cherche was smiling, even as she blinked back her tears.

“Creators, I needed that.”

Instead of answering, she began to fiddle with her phone. Usually, she was more than happy to show him whatever she was looking up. This time, she was strangely secretive and held her other hand to make sure he couldn't make anything out. To put it bluntly, it was downright odd.

When she had found whatever she was looking for, Cherche turned to face Sten. “Look, we both know I'm no good with words. Maybe this shem can say it better than I can.”

She placed her phone into the waiting dock and hit play. Bouncy pop music started to play through the attached speakers, accompanied by a drum beat that made the elf tap her foot in time. It was taking a long time for the words to show up, and Sten's heart was racing despite himself. What was so big she couldn't tell him with her own words?

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do...

Hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you.

Cherche gave him a rather nervous grin as she brought her hands from behind her back just as the singer remarked about a little chapel they could go to by themselves. In her hand was a ring, large enough to fit even his finger. The color of the material could only be antlers, though what creature had any to accommodate his size was beyond him.

“Well? Do you wanna?”

It took a lot of things to knock Sten off his feet. The last time it had been done, there was an ogre and he was in full mail. Yet, this tiny woman with big green eyes and an even bigger smile had managed to completely bowl him over with just four words.

“You... wish to marry me?” He opened his mouth, contemplating reminding her that Qunari had no such bond in their culture, but decided not to; she had spent too much time among his people to forget such a crucial fact. This was deliberate on her part.

Cherche paused the music as she came to rest next to him on the bed. The ring went into her pocket for the moment, but he couldn't ignore the lump it made. “Well, yeah. We've been through hell and back together and then some. I've never felt like this about somebody before. Figure I might as well get stuck with you for the rest of my life.”

She paused, and he could almost feel the heat leaking off her face. “I mean, if you don't want to and just wanna keep doing what we're doing, that's fine too. You've told me before about the no marriage thing.”

Sten knew enough about fighting to realize an out when he heard it. She was doing everything she could to ease him out of it if he wasn't sure. It would've been easy to, almost effortless. And yet, that's not where his stomach was leaning him. Somewhere, he was pretty sure his tama would have been very disappointed by the spectacle he was putting on, but right then he didn't care.

“How you discovered my ring size will stun me to this day, kadan.” He truly fought to keep a wry smile off his face with the brief nod of his head. “I suppose this means I need to speak to a halla now?”

There were very few things that managed to render Cherche Mahariel speechless, and most of them involved either food or her children. To catch the accomplished hunter on the wrong foot was a feat in itself. She looked like a fish that had just been pulled from the bay, gaping as it hung by its tail. The only difference was this was a happy occasion and she managed to smell far better.

She blinked back tears as she reached out to slide the ring onto his finger. “I think we can skip that step, vhenan.”

And then her arms were around her and their lips met. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, more to keep her from falling over at this point. A happy feeling bubbled up in his stomach as the silly song continued to play in the background.

Inwardly, he knew he was going to have hell to pay for this later, but Sten frankly didn't care. There were more important things to consider, particularly issues concerning his wife to be. The term along was enough to make his head spin as it was.

Still, for right then he was happy, and that was enough.