#and probably up through january

[firestorm09890]

on a scale from one to NaN, how real are you feeling today?

[applestorms]

much love to the (multiple) mutuals i’ve seen agony posting on this fine new year’s day my heart is with you all in spirit 🎉🎉 the pain is incredible but this too will change

[its-all-papaya]

oh also happy quarterly 'i should pull an all-nighter to catch up on all my responsibilities' day. i've never actually successfully pulled it off, but every few months i'm like.... maybe THIS time....... it will work.....

[mushroompollution]

Chapter 49: Nightingale

Previous Chapters: The Sablier Arc Masterpost (35-42) || 43 || 44 || 45 || 46 || 47 || 48

Read the manga: imgur || mangaread (ad warning)

This chapter starts with a brief glimpse of Leo receiving some terrible news from the orphanage. But there's no time for that, because Oz's coming of age ceremony is just starting.

okay I just had to include that part because it always makes me laugh.

As the guests filter in and greet Oz, Alice notices each of them handing him a white feather that he adds to a clip danging from his waist. He explains that the feathers are a symbolic proof of their acknowledgment. Though Alice says she doesn't really get it, she confidently shoves her own feather in his face.

Meanwhile, in an otherwise empty hall, Reim Lunettes and Xerxes Break discuss their plan. They're surprised that Isla Yura allowed so many Pandora officials into his estate, and wonder why he was really so eager to invite Oz to his mansion.

But there's something else Reim wants to ask, too.

Reim goes off to look for the Sealing Stone as Sharon enters the hall and asks Break to step outside for some air with her. As they walk, she communicates with Oz through her Chain, Equius, which is able to hide within shadows and relay telepathic messages. They go over their plan as a certain guest approaches Oz.

Elliot dismisses his own concern and returns to his brooding sister as Gilbert and Alice wave Oz over to their side.

Alice drags Oz out onto the dance floor, as the scene returns to Break and Sharon, standing on a veranda just outside the ballroom. Break asks why she doesn't join the others and dance. Sharon says she's too focused on the mission, but she can't hide the way she watches everyone else.

He asks if she regrets becoming a Contractor through Pandora. Her aging had stopped then, leaving her permanently 14 and thus forbidden from participating in social events for anything other than official business. She says no, she had wanted to form a Contract with Equius and understood the sacrifices. Still...

Finally, she asks Break to dance with her, out there on the veranda. He refuses, and insists he has no idea how to. She says that's nonsense and waves him over to watch the other couples dancing inside.

He can't, Break protests. Sharon keeps insisting, until finally, he has to confess.

It can't be helped then, Sharon says. She'll just have to teach him herself. As she takes him by the hand, Break smiles and remarks to himself how she's grown into a really strong woman.

Back inside, Oz and Alice dance together. She says that long ago, someone taught her how. Though there's a faint memory of Jack, she says that doesn't matter. Because she's dancing with Oz now, and she's happy. It's really sweet.

But someone else catches Oz's attention.

Back inside Isla Yura's mansion, Reim and two other Pandora guards wander the dark halls in search of the Sealing Stone, or any important information. As they proceed, they happen on a gruesome scene, and we learn they aren't the only ones searching those halls.

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

[turbulenthandholding]

R.E.M. in The Bear Season 3 Speculation: Find the River

I started to have another R.E.M. in The Bear Season 3 speculation itch in my brain, this time something Sydney-specific. If she leaves, or gets close to it, I think this is a song that could come into play.

I've long thought that there is kind of a through-line (sonically, at least, if not lyrically (half a world away, and go...)) between this song, Find the River, from Automatic for the People, and Half a World Away, which plays during the Season 2 finale (from Out of Time).

Hey now, little speedyhead The read on the speedmeter says You have to go to task in the city Where people drown and people serve Don't be shy, you're just dessert Is only just light years to go

Me, my thoughts are flower strewn With ocean storm, bayberry moon I have got to leave to find my way Watch the road and memorize This life that pass before my eyes And nothing is going my way

The ocean is the river's goal A need to leave the water knows We're closer now than light years to go

I have got to find the river Bergamot and vetiver Run through my head and fall away Leave the road and memorize This life that pass before my eyes And nothing is going my way

There's no one left to take the lead But I tell you and you can see We're closer now than light years to go Pick up here and chase the ride The river empties to the tide Fall into the ocean

The river to the ocean goes A fortune for the undertow None of this is going my way There is nothing left to throw Of ginger, lemon, indigo Coriander stem and rose of hay

Strength and courage overrides The privileged and weary eyes Of river poet search naïveté Pick up here and chase the ride The river empties to the tide All of this is coming your way

I highlighted two sections of lines...the first ones feel kind of on the nose, but service is such an important theme in the show. The phrase "just desserts" feels weighty to me as well, as is the journey they are on to get The Bear where it's going.

The second set of three lines I highlighted make me think of Sydcarmy...and the selective, careful editing that they do with the music on the show...

[dandyshucks-moving]

this time of year is especially difficult (i.e. many memory gaps and occasional blackouts) for me so I do apologize if I vent here, I've been working hard to abstain from doing that (and will continue to try my best to avoid doing so) but it may crop up here and there - I'll try to remember to come up with a tag over the next day or two so that it can be easily filtered though!!

[skitskatdacat63]

Yayyyyyyyy finally working on my pinned post :D having fun :D

Its funny to me cause I'll do these super organizational things for fandom purposes and genuinely have fun with it, but then would rather die than be even remotely organizational for school

[clancyycat]

fresh out the slammer personal thoughts in tags

[dogbunni]

so I've had a fucking day

[rwt-mystic-corner]

Oh!

I just realized!

I have roommates now!

Roommates that are my FRIENDS and I TRUST!!!

For the very FIRST time in my life, the people I live with are people I want to allow in my space.

When I (finally) get my wards set up over the place and especially my room, and not just a quick-and-dirty shielding job: I’m going to have to program in Ward Exceptions so they’re not Bound and Blockaded the moment they cross the threshold.

Particularly because the system roommate has some headmates that are Sensitive to Magic and I’d hate to overwhelm them...

And PARTICULARLY-particularly because I already gave them permission to walk through my room if they want to visit the balcony, which is Only Accessible Through My Room.

But for my other roommate’s sake, too-- they go in to visit the chins and birds. c: And if either of them ever wants to borrow a book, it’d be nice for them to be able to just Drop In without feeling the Get Out vibes I’ve always added.

...I might wait to do that until they’re here, actually, that’ll be in about 3 months but I’ve only physically been in the same space as them Once and I think it’ll be easier to get a read on them, and thus how to “program” the wards to “ignore” them, with them here.

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay I don’t know how this is going to work exactly but I’m not reading book synopses anymore, I’ve just decided

[akermanch]

As someone who was forced to do a re-eval on alcohol and attend a lot of AA meetings…. Dry January is a very weird time …

[sharkieboi]

okay so talk with boss today was good despite my extreme nerves. went to her this morning and straight up asked “hey for my own sanity is this conversation important because of something good, bad or neutral. did I mess something up or is this a regular check in.” and she immediately apologized and reassured me that she had been teasing and didn’t mean to make me nervous, she had good things to say and just wanted to check in and ask how things are going.

then during the actual meeting later she brought up the subject of promotions? and said we would talk about it more at my annual review, but if I was interested in moving into more leadership roles on the team we could talk about what that would entail and what that would require from me.

and ngl I was extremely surprised? and lowkey flattered? I didn’t think she would consider me for a Senior position at all, especially since I haven’t directly expressed interest in it. so she’s considering me before I even expressed any interest. and it’s. well. it’s interesting.

[csuitebitches]

Start planning 2025

Make a list of all the emotions you want to feel at the end of 2025.

Now work backwards and write down all the tasks you need to do in order to feel that way.

Make a separate list of all the “gaps” - what do you currently not have in order to do those tasks to make you feel the way you want?

And lastly, write down how you can fill those gaps. Do you need a gym membership to become fit to feel good about your yourself? Do you need to learn how to cook better meals in order to feel healthy and energised? Do you need to start applying to jobs, in order to secure one, in order to feel financially safe? Do you need to buy an old school alarm clock that’s going to wake up your entire apartment building in order to wake up early? what do you need to DO?

also, make a list of all the things that worked out for you in 2024. Learn to celebrate and appreciate, even the smallest of wins.

For the next two months start the trial and error process of this program. Let’s say you decide that you want to work out 7 days a week in order to feel good about your body. Now halfway through November you realise that 7 days is probably too much, and 5 days would be better for your schedule. Or you decide to read 3 books a week, but realistically, maybe a chapter a day is better.

November and December are your trial months. By the time January starts, be ready with a program that is built for you, works for you, and can be completed by you.

Don’t forget about keeping a reward mechanism. If you complete your daily tasks for 1 month straight, buy that little purse you were eyeing, or take yourself to a spa. Reward yourself in ways you like so that :

a) you’re not in an endless cycle of never being satisfied

b) you don’t drop everything for a man or a friend who shows you the slightest bit of affection because you won’t show it to yourself

c) it encourages you to work harder for yourself.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Scrolling and coming back up on my own rock posts and happy stimming while reexamining all the pictures

I fuckin love rocks man