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duhragonball · 6 months ago

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JoJolion Ch. 64-70

These are "The Plant Appraiser -- Rai Mamezuku (31)" and "Urban Guerilla and Doremifasolatido" arcs. Unlike Rai Mamezuku's desserts, it's kind of bad.

But first we gotta clear Chapter 64, which is a one-shot called "Mother and Child". I tend to think of it as an "origin story" for Jobin Higashikata, although it's really just how he survived the Rock Disease when he was a kid.

So just to bring everyone up to speed: In 1901, Johnny Joestar stole the Saint Corpse from Part 7 and used its miraculous power to cure his wife from the Rock Disease. It worked, but the disease was immediately transferred to their youngest son, George. So Johnny used the Golden Spin to make the Saint Corpse transfer the Rock Disease to himself. This produced some sort of miracle that gave the coastal fault lines of Morioh special powers. For the next 110 years, the land around the fault lines would cause people to get Stands, and things buried in the soil near the fault lines would be blended together somehow.

It's not clear what became of the Joestar family, but Rina's side of the family, the Higashikatas, built a shrine where Johnny died, and when Noruisuke Higashikata IV was a boy, his mother used the equivalent exchange powers of the land near the shrine to take the Rock Disease onto herself, thereby sparing her son.

I'm confused by Tsurugi's opening narration in this story, because he talks about his great-grandmother's sacrifice like it's an old family ritual, dating back generations, but he also says she's the first one who decided to do it. Norisuke plans to repeat the ritual for Tsurugi, sacrificing himself just as his mother had done for him, but that hasn't happened yet. And as we're about to see, Jobin's survival was achieved a bit differently. So it's not much of a tradition.

We flash back to Jobin's childhood. He's not dressed up like a girl, the way Tsurugi is today, but Tsurigi said the family always raises the firstborn boys as girls until the age of 12. But this is a superstitious ritual to try to "fool" the Rock Disease, and at this point, Jobin's already got memory loss symptoms from the early stages of the disease, so maybe the family decided he should drop the disguise since it no longer served any purpose.

Anyway, he goes on some sort of Boy Scout trip, and there's a bully in the troop who coerced him into stealing his mom's underwear and also taking photos of her in the shower. Apparently Jobin forgets things that he did the day before, so I'm not sure how he remembered these instructions, or how he knew to bring this stuff today. It doesn't matter, because the bully gets caught pretty much immediately.

The bully's in pretty deep trouble over this fiasco, so he tries to force Jobin to burn down the house of the scoutmaster or den mother or whatever. The lady who caught him, that's what I'm trying to say. He wants Jobin to burn her house down while she's in it. When he refuses, he acts like he's gonna light Jobin on fire, until Jobin's Stand, Speed King kicks in, and he does the trick he used on Yasuho in the previous arc. Speed King lets Jobin store and transfer heat. He touches something and he can store heat inside of it, and it gets released when someone touches that same surface. In this case, he touches the bully directly and bursts some blood vessels in his head.

Distraught, Jobin goes to his mother for help, and she sees this as an opportunity in disguise. The bully isn't dead yet, so she drags him to the shrine to perfrom the same equivalent exchange that Norisuke's mother did. I think the idea here is that everyone sort of expected Caato to just sacrifice herself for Jobin, the same way Norisuke's mom did for Norisuke. Or maybe she had been considering it herself and looking for a way out, and this kid has provided a convenient patsy.

I had wondered why Caato hadn't already done something like this when Jobin began to experience Rock Disease symptoms, but maybe you have to wait for the disease to start before you can remove it, and also Caato's pregnant with Daiya in this scene. It's likely that whatever she would have done for Jobin was going to wait until she could give birth.

As she buries the boy in the soil, Caato teaches Jobin that some people are just born in a better position than others, and she wants him to always climb higher in life, no matter what happens. So this informs their attitude in the story, where both mother and son are much more ambitious and ruthless than the rest of the family.

Caato might have committed the perfect crime, since no one else knew Jobin knocked the bully out, or that Caato drove him home in her car trunk. For five years, everyone probably assumed the bully ran away from home that night and never returned. However, a search for a pair of foreign snapping turtles led to the discovery of the bully's corpse, and then it didn't take long to find out Caato had been the one to bring him there in her car. She was convicted of murder, and served a 15-year sentence.

Back in the present, Josuke and Yasuho are on their way to Mt. Hanarero to meet the mysterious "Plant Appraiser". Norisuke arranged this because he's a secret expert that Norisuke knows but Jobin doesn't. And the Appraiser would be the only one skilled enough to locate the Rocacaca branch graft in the Higashikata orchard.

But Josuke's more concerned about how things ended up with their last enemy, Dolomite. They interrogated him after Yasuho defeated him, but he really didn't have much to say that they didn't already know. And so Josuke believes that Dolomite wasn't talking to them at all. Instead, he must have been talking to someone else, making it as clear as he could that he had nothing to do with any of this Rocacaca business, and that Jobin had recruited him to find out who Josuke was meeting. Dolomite warned Josuke not to meet the Plant Appraiser at Mt. Hanarero, suggesting that if he dropped the whole thing now, maybe he would be safe, but that warning was probably just a clever way to tell that "someone else" what Josuke's next move would be.

And that all tracks, but what I don't understand is how Dolomite communicated all of this. Just to jump ahead, there's four more Rock Humans to deal with, and they're all posing as human doctors, so maybe one of them was lurking nearby and just hear him speaking. Alternately, Dolomite surreptitiously used the phone Norisuke had given Josuke to call the Four Doctors, and they heard him through the phone. But in that case, you'd think Josuke would just look up the call records in the phone and get their number. Anyway, the point is that Josuke is certain that the enemy knows what he's up to, and they may already be in pursuit.

Then the bus driver stumbles out of his seat, and this other guy hijacks the bus. It turns out he's the guy they were on their way to find, Rai Mamezuku. I guess he expected trouble so he was on the bus to try to get an inside track.

Much of this arc is Rai explaining his position in all of this. Norisuke asked him for his help, and he respects Norisuke a lot, but he resents the way Josuke leaked all of this to their enemies, putting Rai's life in danger. As Rai sees it, he's the only one who can find the Rocacaca branch now, but more importantly, he's the only one who can ensure the branch survives the winter. So that makes him indispensable, which means that protecting Rai should be Josuke's highest priority. Yasuho, on the other hand, is a distant third, since he doesn't even understand why she came along.

So he basically bosses the others around, and he takes the bus to a parking lot, where he thinks they'll be safer. I'm not quite sure how he figured that out, but he was the first one to notice the trees moving, which tipped him off that the enemy was moving underground.

Fortunately, Rai knows there's a ski lift thing they can use to take refuge. As it turns out, he lives here, and he's got all sorts of amenities built into the poles on this lift. One pole contains all his kitchen stuff, and there's another with a bathroom, and a third with his clothes.

Oh, and he grows strawberries on the mountain, which he can pick from the lift cars using his Stand, Doggystyle. It's... basically Stone Free, but not as versatile. Rai can unravel his body and grab things from great distances, but he can't do all the stringy-stuff that Jolyne did in Part 6.

He makes dessert for his guests while he analyzes the whole situation with the Rocacaca branch. See, Yoshikage Kira and Josefumi Kujo's plan was to steal a branch from the smuggler gang and graft it to a tree in the Higashikata orchard. It's strongly implied that Norisuke was at least partially aware of what they were doing, though he didn't learn of the fruit or the branch until later. Kira's plan was to harvest the fruit from the branch and use it to save his mother, Holly.

However, grafting the branch to a tree on the Higashikata property changed the whole game. The fruit that grew on the branch had new powers thanks to the miracle-infused soil of that land. This New Rocacaca could perform equivalent exchange between two people. So instead of a person swapping their healthy eyes for a new leg, or trading their jaw for a healed shoulder, a person could use the New Rocacaca fruit to transfer all of their ailments onto a whole other person.

That's how we ended up with Josuke. Kira was fatally wounded, and when Josefumi fed him the fruit, it started to heal Kira but at Josefumi's expense. Josefumi used a second bite of fruit to try to complete the process, but instead of swapping Josefumi's life to save Kira's, it swapped the half-dead Kira and the half-dead Josefumi with two new bodies: One live (Josuke) and one dead (the corpse they found later on).

But in the right hands, someone could use the New Rocacaca to basically cure death. The Rock Human smugglers were already selling the fruit to rich assholes and making a killing, but this New Rocacaca could make a rich asshole even healthier, provided they could afford to get a pasty to suffer all the downsides of the exchange. So Rai suspects that their new enemies are either doctors or more Rock Humans. It's actually both, but we'll get into that in a minute.

Speaking of the enemy, he manages to attack these guys anyway, using the trees to reach them with his Stand. That Stand acts like some sort of flesh-eating bacteria. Both Yasuho and Rai are affected, and Josuke uses Soft and Wet to carry the bugs away from Yasuho's leg before they can do any harm. However Rai's on his own, and his left hand just gets devoured in seconds, so he has to cut it off before the infection spreads to the rest of his body.

Rai isn't mad about this, but he is annoyed that Josuke forgot his priorities. If something happens to Rai, that's it. No one finds the Rocacaca branch and it will die over the winter. So Josuke should be protecting him at all costs. Yasuho is expendable at best, a distraction at worst. So Rai shoves her out of the lift car. He believes the enemy will emerge from the ground to attack her, and that might give them an idea of what they're dealing with.

And this cliffhanger was pretty important to me, because this was the end of Chapter 66, which is where my JoJo liveblog ended in 2017. I tried to keep up with the story in the years that followed, but I never really felt like I could keep track of all the plot threads. But now, I've got the whole thing, in color, and we can knock it all out in a month. Progress.

As it turns out, Yasuho isn't that badly hurt, because this part of the ski lift isn't that far off the ground. So that's kind of a cheap trick to play on the reader.

But Rai's gambit does pay off, as the enemy comes up to get Yasuho, and Josuke continues to help her. He uses Soft and Wet bubbles to carry her through the air, which is pretty neat...

And he directs Yasuho to the next pole, which has the bathroom in it. Yasuho accesses the electronics with Paisley Park, and somehow she can turn on Rai's shower, which washes off the Stand bugs before they can attack her. I guess?

See, this is what annoys me about this arc. The Enemy Stand here is introduced as this utterly lethal, inescapable thing. We see it kill rats and cops almost instaneously, and Rai barely has time to cut off his own hand before it kills him. But when it gets on Yasuho, she can just run over to the nearest water supply and wash it off without experiencing any of the damage.

The bad guy is underground most of the time, and he's also wrapped inside another creature, so this image here is probably the best way to get a decent look at what Josuke's up against. This is "Ryo Shimosato", although that's just the human name this guy took when he assumed the real Ryo's identity. He's another Rock Human, and in addition to his bullshit "flesh-eating bacteria" Stand, Urban Guerrilla," he also has a "Rock Animal", which can burrow through the earth with him inside of it.

Rai's plan is to use the fuel tanks he keeps in one of the poles to try to light the enemy on fire. That's a big lift, considering the enemy is almost always underground. Also, Josuke seems more worried about Yasuho than anything else, and Rai wants him to focus on protecting him above all else.

But Josuke can't forsake Yasuho, and he jumps out of the car to link up with her. Ironically, this seems to impress Rai, even though it's the exact opposite of what he told him to do. I guess he figures Josuke must be pretty reliable if he's this committed to his other allies. And he must be pretty confident if he's this willing to ignore Rai's strategic advice.

Oh, yeah, get a look at Rai's left hand up there. He cut it off earlier, but now he's got most of it back. I think he's just missing his four fingers now. But he definitely cut the whole thing off before. It was all getting eaten by Urban Guerilla, so he had no other choice. So did he just regenerate it?

Okay, so let's talk about Doremifasolati Do. This is a Rock Animal, as opposed to the Rock Humans we've been dealing with. In addition to looking incredibly stupid, it also has an incredibly stupid name. Oh, and it has "low intelligence", so it's literally stupid as well.

Its whole body looks like a tank tread, which allows it to burrow underground with blinding speed. And it's a "marsupial", so that's why it has a pouch that Ryo can ride around inside. This thing is dumb as fuck, why does it have eyes if it spends all of its time underground. What really takes the cake is how Araki himself wrote this text piece about the creature, and even he couldn't be bothered to decide what the thing eats. "Uh, nobody knows. Maybe it eats bugs or dirt or something." My guy, you're the one who brought it up!

I think the idea with this combo is that Urban Guerilla is kind of difficult to deploy, so Ryo needs the Rock Animal for defense and transportation. He sneaks up from underground, then comes out just long enough to spew his nasty bugs, and retreats back inside the pouch before anyone can strike back.

Except Urban Guerilla doesn't work consistently. Look, Rai's got it eating holes in his face right now and yet he'll survive the rest of this story. His face won't even have any blemishes after this.

Ryo has this whole manifesto about how the New Rocacaca will elevate the Rock Humans to surpremacy over the carbon-based humans. I'm pretty sure the idea is that he and his colleagues will market the fruit as a wonder drug and make billions of dollars selling it to human patients, while they use it on themselves to make themselves immortal. So they'll not only live forever, but they'll dominate the global economy. We regular humans will be reduced to a second-class species and probably not even realize it.

Anyway, not only does Urban Guerilla fail to kill or incapacitate Rai, it apparently doesn't hurt him either, as he manages to use his own powers to turn his arm into a crude crossbow. Then he fires a fork at Ryo's head and scores a direct hit on the first try. This seems pretty unlikely at best, but mostly I just want to point out how utterly fucking stupid Urban Guerilla is. It went from being an instakill power to barely doing anything. Also, Ryo himself is a big dope, because his whole strategy was to stay in the damn Rock Animal, but he jumped out anyway just to gloat.

Josuke tries to use Soft and Wet on the Rock Animal, but his soap bubbles can't do anything because the treads just move the bubbles behind it so quickly that the bubbles never have time to do anything. Dude, why don't you just remove the friction from the soil like you did with Ojiro Sasame's apartment floor? The treads can't dig if he can't get purchase in the soil.

So Josuke finally goes for broke, coming straight at Doremi, even though Ryo's back inside and spraying his nasty bugs everywhere. So now Josuke's being eaten alive by the flesh-eating Stand, but it doesn't bother him either. He also doesn't seem to mind getting pulled underground by Doremi's treads. Instead, he just sort of hangs out down there, listening to Ryo rant about how he knew about Tamaki Damo's fruit smuggling ring, but Damo lacked vision because all he did was play drug dealer. Ryo and his group have bigger plans for the fruit, and Josuke asks him if he's a doctor. Ryo's like "How did you know I'm a doctor?" because that's how incredibly dumb this guy is.

Anwyay, this was all a big distraction so Rai could get to the fuel tanks, and use his own body like a wick to move the fuel down to where the bad guys are. Ryo tries to retreat, but Josuke's soap bubbles carry the burning fuel to him... even though we just established Soft and Wet's bubbles get shoved away before they can have a chance to do anything.

Ryo and his pet die in a tremendous inferno, but Rai doesn't get burned, even though he was completely soaked with fuel when he lit the match.

I guess now that the Stand User is dead, the effects have worn off, but Rai still has little scratches where there used to be gaping holes in his face. Yasuho and Josuke have no damage from Urban Guerilla at all. I hate this arc, because everyone's powers just work or don't work depending on what's convenient to the plot. When I say "powers", I'm also including things like "falling off a lift onto bare ground" and "burning diesel fuel". Those are things that should have consequences in the story, but they just don't.

Anyway, now that the danger has passed, Rai takes a moment to observe Josuke's soap bubbles and he notices that it's not a bubble at all, but more like a length of string that vibrates at super-speed, so it just looks like a bubble. He's got more important things to deal with right now, but this will become very important later on.

You might be wondering why Josuke risked life and limb to come to Rai, when it might have been simpler to have Rai come to the orchard, but here's the reason. Rai has special moth larvae in one of the poles, which he breeds because their poop is good for branch health. This is how he plans to keep the branch alive and healthy through the winter, so they were always going to have to come here no matter what. It's a little goofy how he 's got Iron Man type stuff built into these support poles, though. The kitchen was cute and the bathroom just made sense, but who built this for him? And how did he keep it a secret from the public? He told Josuke and Yasuho that he only lives here in the summer, and in the winter he moves to a villa somewhere else. Who takes care of his moths while he's gone? Who changes the little light bulbs in that chamber? What happens if some errant skier accidentally opens these panels while they're using the lift?

Meanwhile, Jobin has a meeting with the mysterious "Poor Tom". He's another Rock Human and an associate of Ryo Shimosato, and since he just lost contact with the guy, he's pretty sure Ryo's dead, which means Josuke and Rai are going back to the orchard to find the plant.

So Poor Tom's plan is to completely lock down the orchard. His Stand, Ozone Baby, will do just that, and prevent anyone from getting near the branch. He just needs Jobin to take the stand, which looks like a Lego model of the White House, and bury it in the orchard. He'd do it himself, but Jobin would be less conspicuous.

If I understand correctly, Jobin has never even heard of Poor Tom before, or any of the others in his group. He goes to this meeting thinking it's about Tamaki Damo's smuggling ring, because Jobin laundered their profits through the Higashikata Fruit Parlor. But Poor Tom isn't really connected to Damo's group. I mean, they knew each other, I guess? Or maybe Tom only knows about Jobin because he's the one Dolomite was talking to when he told Josuke about Jobin being involved.

The point is that while Jobin is accustomed to working with Rock Humans, this is a whole other ballgame he's gotten into now...

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojolion #jo2uke higashikata #yasuho hirose #ryo shimosato #poor tom #jobin higashikata #rai mamezuku

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bubblybumblebee1 · 11 months ago

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Cramp Twins headcanons! Mostly about my favorite blue/purple psycho

Wayne's not only the best dancer in town but also an amazing singer

You'll never see him do it though

After Wayne found Lucien's missing owl toy, he secretly cherishes his purple cat toy

The boys sleep with their twins toys, it makes them feel more connected

The boys don't know this but their parents know they do this when they check their rooms at night

The toys are often on their beds or dressers when not being used

It warms their parents hearts

Wayne actually has a full head of hair, but due to the art style, it looks like he doesn't

Wayne has a pet he keeps at Dirty Joe's

Lucien's very upset about this once he finds out

Dorothy can't do anything about it since it's not near the house

Ironically, Wayne's a far better eco person than Lucien is

Lucien obviously doesn't believe this, even when he's seen evidence of it

He refuses to believe that someone like his brother, who could care less about the environment, is far better at saving it than him!

It's more of a subconscious thing for Wayne

Due to Wendy and her weirdo friends' behavior, Wayne is turned off by girls entirely. Even Wendy's personal mechanic Joanne

He associates every girl who hangs around Wendy as bad news, so he'd rather stay away from them

It's why he was so desperate to get rid of his crush on Joanne

They do later become friends though

She still has a crush on him

The only females his age that he gets along with are Patsy, Mari, and Joanne

Besides their iconic sweater symbols, the boys' other symbols are a bear for Lucien and a cat for Wayne

Mrs. Cramp has made all of the boys' sweaters

She loves dressing them a like, so all their outfits have matches

On the days when they accidentally wear the same things, they immediately run back to change outfits

They won't be caught DEAD wearing the same thing if they can help it

Special occasions where their parents dress them up is the only time they'll reluctantly do it

Dorothy makes the twins' birthday cake every year

Lucien has only been a vegetarian for a short amount of time

Wayne is the 1st of the 2 to get an actual job, much to Lucien's disappointment

He becomes the mascot character for a sweet industry: he's a princess

He gets paid in money, and all he can eat sweets

Nobody knows it's him since he gets covered up in makeup and fun girly clothes that he wouldn't normally wear (think Jojo Siwa)

He is now a celebrity because of it, or at least this alter ego is

Wayne is a professional gaslighter

Wayne once tricked Lucien into believing that HE was the younger twin

It was funny at 1st but then got annoying

Lucien likes to bring in swamp animals and leave them for Wayne to find and scare him

Mostly frogs

Wayne has a deep fear of frogs

Lucien always gets in trouble for it but finds it totally worth it

Wayne is just as smart as Lucien, he just uses his in a different way

Lucien got most of the smarts while Wayne got most of the creativity

Tony and Wayne still talk to Randal

Few people are allowed to call Dorothy 'Dottie'

Mr. Winkle and Mr. Parson are cousins

Dirty Joe sees Wayne as a son

Dirty Joe loves kids, but due to his lifestyle, he can't really be around them

Losing his owl toy made Lucien into what he is today

Mrs. Cramp is why Wayne is the way he is

Wayne has a birthmark in the shape of a star on his inner thigh

While both boys' ears are pierced, Wayne has a couple more piercings than Lucien. His ears are pierced multiple times, his nose, his tongue and his belly button

When he's older, he'll get his nipples pierced

Marsha and Tandy are Dorothy's childhood friends

Marsha has 2 kids who are in high school

She got pregnant young

Tandy is secretly a lesbian who had a crush on Marsha's sister when she was younger

Marsha and Tandy are basically the boys, but adults with the way they act towards each other

These 2 will throw shade at any given moment

The soap people have a weird relationship with filth, they can't stand it but also crave it

It's their swamp heritage, though most don't know it

Dorothy's extreme OCD and obsession with cleaning comes from her overbearing and judgmental mother

Dorothy is a daddy's girl

Dorothy will occasionally call Lucien 'LuLu'

Joe tries to get his friends to be nicer to Wayne when they come around

They do like the kid. They're just kinda aggressive?

Both boys are in the LGBTQ community

Lucien is Bi as well as nonbinary, while Wayne is unidentified

Dorothy always wanted a daughter

Big Baby is their cousin from their fathers side

Big Baby is actually older than the boys by at least a year, she simply acts younger to get away with more

She acts a lot like Wayne

This is why she was sent to the Cramp's house the 1st time

Wayne still has the 2 dresses he got from Wendy, as well as the bows and shoes

Lucien still has his pagent gear

Wayne also still has the tiara Dirty Joe gave him

Wendy and her friends are complete perverts when it comes to Wayne. Her friends do it cause they think it's funny, Wendy does it because of her creepy obsession with Wayne

The boys are naturals when it comes to playing music

Wayne actually does know how to play the piano and harp

Most of their gifted talents come from their granddad

The gifted gene runs in his side of the family

Their granddad used to be a performer like Seth but in a different field

The Bad Seed was actually Horace's brother Herman

Twins run on Horace's side of the family

Herman was the Wayne to Horace's Lucien

Lucien's appearance comes from Horace side while Wayne's comes from Dorothy's side

Seth met his wife while performing at the circus

A good amount of my headcanons for the show

Might do more later

#headcanon #the cramp twins #cranp twins #lucien cramp #wayne cramp

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starmaniamania · 2 years ago

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Québecois review of the 94 production in Montreal (with Patsy Gallant, Luce Dufault, Michel Pascal etc., using the 93 Furey mise en scène). Translation under the cut -- I love how they keep calling it "the Parisian Starmania" and ragging on Paris and the French lol

The Parisian Starmania was not damaged in transit

Last night, in the foyer of the Saint-Denis theatre, at the intermission of the Montreal premiere of the Parisian Starmania which was created last October at the Théatre Mogador and transported here as is -- for lack of a local producer -- Luc Plamondon was signing autographs. Near him, a very young girl was bouncing up and down, her programme in her hand, obviously overexcited at the idea of getting a scribble by the man with the smoked sunglasses.

The scene was as telling as the plethora of special effects, acrobatics, costumes, videos, pyrotechnics and fancy lighting effects which had dazzled the venue just as much as the rock opera's story and songs a few moments before. Plamondon, who neither sings, dances nor bungees down from the rafters like the Etoiles Noires -- the thugs who terrorize Monopolis -- had still found a way to live the dream that Ziggy, Zéro Janvier, Stella Spotlight and all of Monopolis's inhabitants have: last night, Plamondon was not only an artist, he was also a star. He matched his show and its triumph perfectly.

Indeed, this umpteenth Starmania production is having the intended effect -- unsurprisingly. Of course, it did not reach Paris-levels of hysteria -- we need much more than they do to go mad with admiration -- but it is clear that new audience members, those who were discovering Lewis Furey's mise-en-scène yesterday (while all the media had already been invited to see it in Paris) were wide-eyed at all the staging innovations designed by Furey (the interaction between video and actors was particularly deftly done) and were falling, like the French have, for this new batch of characters. Not all, however: Frank Sherbourne, the only non-Québecois in the cast, gave a slightly stilted Ziggy, and next to me there were whispers that Judith Bérard lacked character and precision. On the other hand, Patsy Gallant's Stella Spotlight was in my opinion much better than at Mogador. She was heartbreaking and wholly believable, evoking Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard.

This is the genius of this Starmania's casting choices: the actors are the same age and have almost the same background as their characters. Gallant is true to life as an ageing star -- she is, to some extent, playing herself. Michel Pascal as Zéro Janvier has no trouble convincing us he wanted to be an artist -- Starmania is the first time he's had the chance. And Luce Dufault, the club-hopper, Dan Bigras's background singer, could very well be found waitressing in a Montreal Underground Café. She was perfectly credible and natural, with that rebellious streak which allowed her to stare the audience in the face shamelessly, and served us the Complainte de la serveuse automate with utter sincerity.

That said, beyond the characters and the mise-en-scène (which is not always good -- the pyrotechnics and the robot newsreader are a bit much) it is the songs which, once again, give this Starmania its real grandeur. At the most, a typical musical is build around 2 or 3 great themes: Starmania has 6 or 7, which are decidedly timeless. Le monde est stone, Les uns contre les autres, re-incarnated by Luce Dufault, were new songs. In the end, that's all we ask.

#starmania 1993 #reviews #in the press #translation

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cecilraybaker · 2 months ago

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Celebrating Women in Country Music: 5 Notable Figures

Celebrating Women in Country Music: 5 Notable Figures https://cecilraybaker.com/celebrating-women-in-country-music-5-notable-figures/ Country music has a rich history, shaped by the talent and contributions of countless artists. Among these luminaries are women who have made indelible marks on the genre, breaking barriers and paving the way for future generations. As we celebrate Women’s History Month, it’s essential to recognize and honor these remarkable figures who have left an enduring legacy in country music. Here are five notable women in country music whose impact transcends generations. Dolly Parton No list of influential women in country music would be complete without the iconic Dolly Parton. Dolly has become a true American icon with her distinctive voice, larger-than-life personality, and prolific songwriting skills. From her early hits like “Jolene” and “Coat of Many Colors” to timeless classics like “9 to 5” and “I Will Always Love You,” Dolly’s music resonates with audiences of all ages and backgrounds. Beyond her musical talents, Dolly is also a philanthropist, actress, and advocate for literacy and children’s education, earning her a place in the hearts of fans around the world. Loretta Lynn Known as the “Queen of Country,” Loretta Lynn is a trailblazer who shattered stereotypes and paved the way for women in country music. With her honest lyrics, strong vocals, and pioneering spirit, Loretta has become a symbol of resilience and empowerment. Hits like “Coal Miner’s Daughter” and “You Ain’t Woman Enough (To Take My Man)” have solidified her status as a country music legend. At the same time, her unapologetic approach to songwriting has inspired generations of artists to speak their truth. Reba McEntire With her powerhouse vocals and charismatic stage presence, Reba McEntire has become one of the most successful and beloved women in country music history. Throughout her career, Reba has amassed an impressive catalog of hits, including “Fancy,” “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia,” and “Does He Love You.” Her influence extends beyond music, as she has also found success as an actress, author, and businesswoman, earning her a place in the Country Music Hall of Fame and the hearts of fans worldwide. Patsy Cline Despite her tragically short life, Patsy Cline left an indelible mark on country music with her timeless voice and unforgettable songs. With hits like “Crazy,” “Walkin’ After Midnight,” and “I Fall to Pieces,” Patsy captured the hearts of listeners with her passionate vocals and heartfelt delivery. Her impact on the genre continues to be felt to this day, as her influence can be heard in the music of countless artists who followed in her footsteps. Carrie Underwood Rising to fame as the winner of American Idol in 2005, Carrie Underwood has since become one of the biggest names in country music. With her powerhouse vocals, captivating stage presence, and relatable lyrics, Carrie has earned numerous accolades and awards, including seven Grammy Awards and countless chart-topping hits. Songs like “Before He Cheats,” “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” and “Cry Pretty” have solidified her status as one of the leading women in country music today. Conclusion These five notable women in country music have left an indelible mark on the genre, inspiring countless artists and fans alike with their talent, passion, and resilience. As we celebrate Women’s History Month, let us honor their contributions and continue to recognize women’s important role in shaping the landscape of country music. via Cecil Ray Baker | Music https://cecilraybaker.com September 10, 2024 at 05:14AM

#Cecil Ray Baker | Music

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 2 months ago

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Alright y'all, I've been wondering about Alice since season 1. Like, she married Daniel and divorced him, had two daughters with him. She may totally be a character the show made up. But I have dug deep into the wiki and have made some discoveries. So, here are 2 characters that Alice could be based on:

This one is less likely, but I'm putting it first just to get it out of the way. She's Alice Mayfair. Her father was Remy Mayfair, brother to Julien Mayfair, aka the Julien they kept mentioning on the Mayfair Witches. Considering how they've moved the setting to present day (give or take a year or two), Alice could be possibly be around the same age as Daniel in the Immortal Universe. But she does have a daughter, Beatrice, that marries Aaron Lightner in the books. In the Immortal Universe, Aaron/Michael Curry were merged into Ciprien Grieve. So it's possible they could use her, and have Beatrice be one of Daniel's daughters. Just with an updated name, or she's going by her middle name. (If I was named Beatrice, I'd probably use Kate or Lenora/maybe Lenore? It looks like Lenora to me.)

2. This one is still related to the Mayfair Witches, but Alice isn't actually a Mayfair here. Let me explain. Cortland Mayfair, aka the worst uncle ever, from the Mayfair Witches, in the books had a half-brother named Gravier Blackwood, bc their dad was a big slut. And Gravier marries a woman named Alice. The wiki only lists her on his page, and with his last name. But they have a son together named Thomas Blackwood. Who has a daughter named Patsy. Who is the mother of Tarquin Blackwood, aka Quinn, the main character of Blackwood Farm. Which is a book in both the VC and Mayfair Witches. So we're probably going to see some version of it, in some future crossover episode. Rowan could even be there bc Gravier was half Mayfair, if the show wants to. And it could sort of tie Daniel into the story, like either Alice calls him up and is like, 'my grandkid needs help. Yeah, the one got from the son I had with the man I married after I divorced you. But he is our daughters' nephew' Or one of his daughters calls up and is like, 'my dumbass younger brother's kid is in a Situation, help out, you owe me.' And then Daniel helps him get in touch with Lestat, and the crew has a zany adventure.

Idk, I only read the book bc it crossed over with the VC books, I don't really remember much. I do remember there was an intersex vampire, who I just looked up named Petronia. (And I don't exactly remember Anne writing that in a way that was respectful. I actually think they use the h-word.) But she was a Roman gladiator who fought animals and shit. When she was 14. So she was pretty bad ass. In the books some vampire named Arion buys her and gives her money and frees her to do whatever tf she wants. Except she has nowhere to go and asks to stay with him, and he eventually turns her into a vampire.

But Arion kinda just vanishes from the books. Though he may have been mentioned and/or in one of the Prince Lestat books, bc I don't really remember much of them. (Getting through the second book was a slog.) So my idea is that they could make Marius her maker, as he was Roman, and the time periods are close enough. Plus Petronia also disappears from the books. I think it would fit with what we've learned about show Marius so far. Buying someone from an abusive place; takes her in to give her a better life, they become lovers, eventually he turns her. I just think it would be neat to have an actual intersex character, since gender is a bit loose when you're a vampire. I think it could give a unique perspective on gender. And also there need to be more intersex characters on TV; they make up over 2% of people in the world. And two percent may seem small, but that's 2% of over 8 billion people. That's 160 million people. They deserve to see people like them on screen as much as everyone else LGBT+ Remember when we called it LGBTQIA? That's the I. Though I hardly ever see them brought up, unless they're being used in arguments about the gender binary. (Which is so weird to me, bc once I learned that being intersex was a thing, I was like, so why do we only say there are two sexes, if there are literally more of them? And my mom was like, Idk how to answer this to a 7 yr old.)

This post got kinda ramblely. But I will mention one more thing. The vampire Sam Barclay, screenwriter and Talamasca agent, who was teased to be another character (tbh it's probably just Laurent or Everard de Landen) could possibly be based on Barclay Mayfair. Being a Mayfair would probably suck as a man, bc only the ladies get the magic juju (except Julien bc he's special). It would explain the Talamasca connection, bc we know they've been watching the Mayfair's for a long time. He could have got vamped after he started working for them. Probably not, but I know they're gonna eventually crossover all the different shows in the Immortal Universe. And they gave Santiago a bigger part on the show, so maybe?

#iwtv theories #crack theories #i feel like we gonna see Alice at some point. in a flashback to her and daniel's time together

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mando-abs · 2 years ago

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I saw you're taking some suggestions for the Joel Miller playlist (which is absolutely brilliant btw thank you for this) 👀👀👀 I was raised on a lot of country music from the 50s-80's! Here's my list for your consideration

"The Devil Went Down to Georgia" by The Charlie Daniels Band

"Walkin' After Midnight" by Patsy Cline

"El Paso" by Marty Robbins (honestly I think alot of songs off that album could work)

"Yakety Yak" by The Coasters

"Delta Dawn" by Tanya Tucker

"Jackson" by Johnny Cash ft. June Carter Cash

"Elvira" by The Oak Ridge Boys

"The Nights Went Out in Georgia" by Reba McEntire

"You're The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly" by Loretta Lynn ft. Conway Twitty (because it would make him laugh)

Lastly, I'm making a stand. Joel Miller listens to Selena (they're around the same age and both from Texas it just makes sense okay) "I'm Getting Used to You" by Selena

I'm sorry this ended up so long I tried to keep it short ;-;

It’s okay!!! Make it as long as you like! I love listening to recommended music lol

The Devil Went Down To Georgia - It’s a good song, a great song even. This is the best version imo….but I have history with this version. And therefore it is not making the cut.

Walk-in After Midnight - Oooo this is a good one. Approved.

Some of these songs I think fit Tommy better. Especially El Paso and Elvira. But you are right in that they have a Miller feel to them.

Yakety Yak - this one had to grow on me but I dig it. I think he would play this for Sarah and giggle over it. As much as Sarah took care of him, he still believed in child labor for some of the chores. But really he giggled bc he knew Sarah wouldn’t get in bad trouble anyways.

Delta Dawn - too Country for me. I cant do it

Jackson - idk I just didn’t vibe with this one. Which is weird bc it’s Johnny Cash and I’ve already got Cash on the playlist.

The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia - oh yeah, that’s getting put on there. So dramatic.

You’re the Reason Our Kids are Ugly - hehehe yeah he would think it funny. Also rip Loretta

Selena -

It makes total sense. A guilty pleasure of his for sure. Maybe he would try to raise Sarah on Selena only for her to choose Destiny’s Child and Beyoncé as her role models. So he just kinda gave up but still listened to Selena. With that being said, I didn’t put the song you recommended. HOWEVER, I did put two of her more sad hits that I can think off the top of my head, Como La Flor and No Me Queda Más. Selena was there for his divorce/breakup when no one else was

Thank you so much for the recommendations! I had a lot of fun tonight listening to them

I’ll put my playlist below in case peeps wanna check it out

#joel miller #Joel miller playlist #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #abs answers asks #thank u

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rushpush · 3 years ago

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I know that Martha burned the letters between george and her, but what do we have about their relationship? what do we know about them?

thank you for your answear <3

Martha and George Washington, here you go! As a warning, prepare yourselves for something long. Have fun :D

Martha Washington was born on June 2, 1731, and Washington's courting of this woman began in 1758. Historians are certain that the two had met before in some way, but this is not recorded anywhere. Washington also never asked Martha to marry him out of pure love, but for much more practical purposes. Martha was at that time the absolute jackpot in Virginian society, as she was the widow of the farmer Daniel Parke Custis.

I don't want to go too deep on this. What is important to know is that Daniel was about twenty years older than Martha, but he really loved her and even went against his father for it, later getting the blessing for the marriage from him (with the help of Martha). Daniel was the son of one of the richest families in Virginian society and thus helped Martha to the same status. The two had four children, though two of them died, Daniel Parke Custis and Frances Parke Custis. Their last two children, John (Jacky) and their daughter Martha (Patsy) survived and were four and two years old at the time Washington began courting Martha. Martha's husband Daniel died in July 1757 at the age of 45. The important part, however, is that Daniel had left no testament, which caused his inheritance to fall under English common law, which meant that Martha received everything. Slaves, all the acres, a darn high position in Virginian society, and lots and lots of money.

Widows of farmers were the most independent women around at the time, so Martha had the freedom to do anything she wanted. (At least until she remarried, at that time her new husband would automatically be the patriarch of the family.) No doubt Martha had many advertisers but two stood out quite a bit

There was tobacco farmer Charles Carter, again a man of the elite of Virginian society with several thousand acres. However, Carter was twice Martha's age and had about a dozen children, the oldest of whom were almost as old as Martha herself (Martha was 26 at the time). Something that didn't quite appeal to Martha.

And then there was this George Washington, who didn't really have a good school education, just 2200 acres, and wasn't even highly positioned in Virginian society, except for the fact that he had made a small name for himself with his "successes" in the military.

Why did Martha choose Washington over Carter in the end? Well, as mentioned above, the facts that Carter was twice her age and this whole bunch of kids were a problem for Martha. She did love children and wanted to have many more children in her second marriage (*cough* *cough* Good luck with that) but this amount of children Carter was bringing along was too much for her to handle. So, what was it about Washington that made Martha choose him? Well, he was young, tall, strong, and a raging star in the military. Martha probably fell in love with him immediately and knew that Washington had room in his heart for both her and her two children.

After taking time to get to know each other a bit, they married on January 6, 1759.

Martha and George complemented each other in every way. Washington was a very introverted person (try to convince me otherwise). He was very friendly to guests and never turned anyone away when asking for shelter, but it was hard to engage him in a conversation for long periods unless you started with the topic of farming. Washington was very "stiff" if you can put it that way. Martha, on the other hand, was much more social. She had a very open manner with a friendly smile and showed genuine interest in her guests. This did not go unnoticed by the guests and they tended to say that the Washingtons were a happy couple.

Martha, unlike her husband, did not care about wealth or high status in Virginian society (probably because she already had it all). As a result, she gave Washington a secure and happy base where he could recover from stressful days. She was so much more than a wife to him. A confidant, a counselor in difficult times, a companion to whom he could confide his sorrows, especially at the time he became Commander in Chief.

But there were certain things on which the two disagreed. One of those things was raising children, especially when it came to Martha's son Jacky.

And yes, George and Martha did not have children of their own. I'm pretty sure most of you already know that. What often gets lost, however, is the fact that it wasn't necessarily because of Washington. Yes, he was most likely infertile. Possibly the reason was the mild smallpox disease in his youth, as smallpox led to infertility. However, it may also be that Martha contracted injuries after the birth of her fourth child Patsy that caused her to be unable to have children. But it is much more likely that Washington was simply infertile. Even if he believed the problem was with his wife and not with him (you know, male ego and such...).

The fact that Martha could not have any more children made her more or less overcautious about her remaining children. She had already gone through many losses in her life: her husband, two children, her father, a brother, a sister, and a half-brother. This also made it incredibly difficult for her to be away from her children for an extended period of time. She only ever wanted to accompany George when her children came along.

Martha wanted to give her children everything. Especially her son Jacky. In general, Martha seemed to spoil the boys more than the girls, which was probably due to her own childhood, where she had to learn at a very young age how to effectively help out around the house as a woman.

It was rather the opposite with George, who was more fond of the girls (he seemed to spoil Patsy constantly) and had a firmer hand with the boys.

Basically, Washington's desire to give Jacky the schooling that George never had was not completely wrong. The problem was that Jacky was pretty lazy about learning. I won't go into more detail about Jacky on this, otherwise, this will all get way too long here and we'll stray off-topic. Let's put it this way, George and Martha had different opinions on this, but their marriage survived it without any problems. The two never strived for perfection in their marriage and also understood that it was impossible to achieve this.

Was the Washington marriage romantic? Not really. Love-filled, yes! But not really romantic, and that didn't even bother the two of them. George was certain that a marriage based on romantic feelings would be less successful and would certainly not last very long. A piece of advice he also gladly passed on. Instead of listening to romance, one should focus on the personality of his partner, the character, nature, and the money. Because unlike these traits (*cough* Money is a wonderful character trait *cough*), young romance eventually faded and therefore was not a good foundation. Martha shared this opinion.

It is quite likely that the fact that Martha was rich had led him to ask her to marry him. He could never have married a poor woman, but a loveless and cold marriage based only on money was never an option for him either. Even after many years, they began letters to each other with "My Dearest..." or "My Love..."

Washington also owned a mini-portrait of his wife that he always wore around his neck until his death, and he was also willing to cancel trips completely just to be with his wife when necessary (for example, after little Patsy died in 1773).

What is also worth mentioning here is the fact that Martha had only a meager school education, but unlike Washington, never really educated herself. Yes, she read the newspaper regularly but her grammar was not really good. Therefore Washington, or one of his secretaries during the war, had written the letters for her, which Martha then simply copied and signed. Often this happened when Martha wrote with women who were much more intelligent than she was. Martha never seemed to mind and was probably grateful because it saved her embarrassment.

That the marriage between the Washingtons was strong could be seen very well in the war, to which George was appointed Commander in Chief.

After he accepted this position in 1775, it took him three days to tell Martha about it. The reason for this was relatively simple. As I mentioned a bit above, Martha was very frightened when it came to the health and welfare of her family. She had already lost so many people and just a few years ago she had lost her daughter.

Her son Jacky had already married but was fortunately with his mother, which gave Washington some comfort. He knew that as Commander in Chief, he would not see his home for a long time, leaving his wife alone for a great deal of time. Possibly she might even become a target of English attack (a thought Washington later dismissed, though, because he did not believe English gentlemen would do such a thing). He naturally endeavored to reassure Martha when he told her of this. Likewise, he tried to explain to her that he had done everything possible to avoid this position. On the one hand, he didn't want to be separated from his family, on the other hand, he didn't think he was suited for the job of Commander in Chief and that they trusted him too much. He tried hard to ease his wife's fears.

In one of the few letters that survived he even wrote "I retain an unalterable affection for you, which neither time or distance can change" (1) And actually Washington had also planned to return home to his wife in the fall, but unfortunately this did not happen, because his presence as commander was necessary. He feared that if he left, the army would fall apart. As a result, Washington asked his wife to join him.

Martha came to him as well, as she did in the following years in the wintertime, and this even though the trip involved many dangers and Martha herself was often frightened when she started this journey. Washington also never ordered his wife to go, but left her the choice. If she had wished not to visit him, she could have done so. However, she chose to be with her husband. This was a blessing for Washington, who was very depressed at some points. By now, historian Mary Thompson was able to calculate that Martha Washington had probably spent half of the war in the Continental Army by her husband's side.

As mentioned earlier, Martha was a blessing to Washington's mind during the war. We know Washington as a stoic and silent man. But that doesn't mean he had to be that way on the inside. Washington often hid his true feelings and concerns and had no one to confide in. That was until Martha joined him over winter break, even though they didn't always have the privacy they desired.

Many at camp observed how the general was noticeably more relaxed (and even humorous in some cases) when his wife was around. Martha also helped out at camp as best she could, persuading her husband to do some things that he otherwise would have undoubtedly said no to. Often she would be seen sitting down with her knitting tools and knitting winter stockings for the soldiers. Otherwise, as at Mount Vernon, she took care of the social stuff. She offered drinks and fruit to guests and looked after their welfare.

Especially at Valley Forge, during the Conway cabal (actually, Mifflin was the one who pulled the strings, but okay), she was a great support to Washington. She then sat down with the other women, knitting socks, shirts, or other clothing for poor soldiers.

When Jacky, Martha's last remaining child, died of Camp Fever at the Battle of Yorktown, both Washingtons were very depressed. Jacky left behind not only a wife from a very early marriage but also four children. Three little girls and one boy. To support Nelly (Jacky's wife, or widow in this case), the Washingtons adopted the two youngest children: two-year-old Eleanor Parke Custis (nicknamed Nelly) and seven-month-old George Washington Parke Custis (mostly nicknamed Wash or Tub). Adoptions like this were perfectly normal at the time, as children often lost their parents to illness or the like.

The Washingtons immediately took the children into their hearts and this love was returned to them. Nelly and Wash never saw them as their grandparents but much more as beloved parents. It is interesting to note that although the Washingtons were never able to have children themselves, they always had children around them and thus had a lot of experience raising children.

Martha always cared a lot about family, even in her youth, as could be seen from the fact that she always wanted many children and was, as mentioned a bit above, very paranoid about her children. Even more so after her last two children had died. Washington, on the other hand, was always very quiet, even towards his grandchildren. Even more so after the war

Speaking of "after the war." Washington was able to give up his position as Commander in Chief, but not the prominence and popularity he had. Neither did Martha. Both were aware of it but were not necessarily enthusiastic about it. Martha even confessed to Mercy Warren that she and George should have grown old together after the war and Martha had no idea that Washington would be called to public office again.

So when Washington was called to the office of president, Martha was displeased, to put it mildly. Even more so when she realized how little George wanted that position. She also did not accompany him to the Constitutional Convention, and when Washington made his trip to Philadelphia to accept the presidency, she did not accompany him immediately but joined him later in mid-May to escape all the fuss and cheering that Washington had to suffer (spoiler, she did not escape that fuss). The latter by the way made the trip as if he had to go to the gallows. So he wasn't thrilled with this presidential story either.

Martha shared with Washington the opinion that he was too old to step into the public eye again and worry about politics. When she became the First Lady, she, like Washington, spoke of a calamity befalling her family. She never defied her husband in this regard, but when forced to do something she didn't want to do, she could become very particular. Sulking or dragging her feet were most very good indicators of this.

And when the Washingtons moved into their home on Cherry Street in Philadelphia, they quickly realized they had very little time to themselves. Martha even stated that the day after she arrived in Philadelphia, she had only half an hour to herself. She later stated that the days she had spent as First Lady and George as President were "lost days."

During the years of the presidency, of course, the problem came up again with Wash (the adopted grandson, in case you forgot) unfortunately tended to be very lazy and not focus on his education, just as his father had before. Martha didn't mind this, but Washington did. George, however, never really addressed Martha on this, leaving it at that Martha's pleasure was worth more to him than his desire for Wash to learn something. Amazing how the most powerful man had so much respect for his wife.

When it came to the presidential election again, Martha very much hoped that her husband would reject it, and so did Washington; after all, he already had a farewell speech from Madison in his desk for half an eternity, too. So when Washington was bullied into the second term as president, Martha was not at all thrilled.

They were all happier when Washington finally resigned from office in 1797 and they were able to travel back to Mount Vernon.

George could finally be a farmer again and Martha could manage Mount Vernon again, as the two had done before the war started.

But the following years were not very easy for Washington and his wife, because they constantly had guests and pilgrims with them, who wanted to see the great George Washington. The times in the years when the two were only among themselves could probably be counted on a single hand. So they had no real peace in their last days either.

The two had about two years left, after all, until it came to the event that Washington would not survive. He had just made his morning rounds, as he did every day to check his acres, but was caught off guard by the weather. When he returned home for lunch, he didn't change his damp clothes because he once again had guests at Mount Vernon and didn't want to keep them waiting, or at least considered it rude to keep them waiting.

His condition worsened to the point where he woke Martha up in the middle of the night because he was having a hard time breathing. She wanted to call a doctor for her husband in the middle of the night but Washington stopped her because he was afraid Martha would get sick walking around like that in the dead of night.

A total of three doctors were called in and eventually Washington died, probably from the bloodletting rather than the throat infection itself. Martha sat by his bedside the entire time her husband was dying, completely motionless, and when her husband finally passed away she just asked "Is he gone? Tis well. All is now over, I shall soon follow him! I have no more trials to pass through!". (2) It is hard to imagine the horror this poor woman had to watch during the last hours her husband was still alive.

Washington, fearful of being buried alive, ordered as one of his last wishes that they wait for three days until they buried him. Martha herself did not attend the funeral. She asked Tobias Lear, who had been present at Washington's death (and had also recorded it in his diary), to cut a lock of Washington's hair for her that she always carried with her as a memento. She also never re-entered his office after Washington's passing, nor did she sleep in the bedroom they shared. Instead, she slept in an attic room in Mount Vernon. She also never hid her grief from guests, nor did she hide the lock of George's hair she carried. Ever since Washington's death, she longed to be reunited with him. And finally, on May 22, 1802, Martha Washington died of stomach disease and was placed next to her husband and thus reunited with him.

I can tell you that this post took a very long time to write, but I had an incredible amount of fun writing it. Martha and George are still my very favorite historical couple and even though their marriage was never really romantic, it's still by far the cutest of them all until their final days.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cry under my covers because I'm not okay after that last part! Good night, everyone!

Sources:

Washington: A Life by Ron Chernow

Martha Washington: An American Life by Patricia Brady

(1) Letter from George Washington to Martha Washington, 23 June 1775

(2) Tobias Lear, Diary Entry, 14th December 1799

#george washington #martha washington #amrev #amrev history #historical #they are so cute #historical couple #i always cry when i read about his death #this is so hard #i'm not okay #sniff

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drtenebres · 3 years ago

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who are the most developed/most focused on characters right now??

Thanks for the ask!! It’s hard to say who is the most developed character right now, due to so many brain cells trying to work together, but we’ve all got our own individual ones we’re working on that we feel the strongest about !

@shslstraws :

blah blah blah this is where jude talks about oumota -Snelly (SHAAAAADDUPPPPP -Straws)

Kaito (My beloved) - A commonfolk who was oblivious by the magic world around him until he inevitably is pushed to it, by living his new life as a Tenebroso werewolf. The cause for how he became a werewolf is unknown, and he tries to keep away from his friends and family to protect them from this “curse”. Kaito gets in a mix of mages and eventually meets with Kokichi, a plague doctor who claims he can cure him. He slowly realizes and comes to face the reality that is Tenebres.

Kokichi (Most developed??) - A mage who lived in an orphanage until he gets adopted by two mages, Nagito and Hajime. Kokichi dreams of being far powerful than both his dads and going back to recruit the other orphanage kids to his upcoming organization. Until he gets a set back when he takes things too far with the magi academy, he gets demoted to a Plague Doctor; a low status of a mage. It is until he meets Kaito, on one of his duties, and believes if he figures out the mystery behind Tenebrosos, he will earn the right to regain his place back in the academy.

Shuichi (Most Focused on ATM) - Born from the great Kyoko Kirigiri and Makoto Naegi, there are a lot of expectations put upon Shuichi since he was very young. The expectations were too high and too heavy to carry that Shuichi decided to leave behind that life and the Kirigiri name. He meets up with Rantaro who gives him the ability of a werewolf, and thinks he can finally start anew. Until he faces the same problems with being a werewolf and being part of a pack, Shuichi decides to live amongst the commonfolk with his new friends Kaito, Kaede, and Maki by his side.

@baylardian-1 :

Kyoko (Most focused on) - A detective who grew up working under a large magefolk entity in the specific branch that deals with magic-based crimes. Kyoko is telepathic with a hindered use of magic due to a strange curse covering both of her hands. Because of her ability to read minds and the overwhelming loudness many voices can create in her head, Kyoko prefers working alone. Eventually she retires from her occupation and becomes a private investigator alongside her husband Makoto.

Hifumi (Most developed) - A hamster familiar most closely resembling a smitten patsy for Celestia Ludenberg. Not having many friends he impulsively chose to follow a pretty girl one day and has never ceased. Initially out of threat, Hifumi would perform healing spells for Celestia after her hunts in addition to take care of her every beck and call. Nowadays their relationship takes on a more unspoken respect and fondness for one another.

Mukuro (My beloved) - A Tenebroso werewolf nearing closer to being 400 years old in age. Born a mage alongside her younger twin sister Junko, many events surrounding their past are shrouded in mystery. As a Tenebroso she has an unnaturally extended life. Mukuro is naturally covered in scars and physically looks to be reaching her mid 50's-early 60's. She is most often however seen to be disguising herself as a young girl.

@snellymain :

Kiyo (Most developed) - A socially reclusive vampire with a guilty conscience and a sworn duty to feed by killing swiftly rather than turning anyone else into a vampire; since he hates his vampirism and his sister that cursed him with it. Has a huge fondness for humans and anthropology after his controlling sister's hatred for them caused him to have extremely limited interactions with them. Ends up committed to a mage named Angie while the unwanted spirit of his sister began haunting him after many years of being dead.

Mahiru (Most focused on) - A standard mage with very little powers and a high respect for her non-mage mother, matching her disdain for her mage father. She got into photography as she had no attachment to her underwhelming magic, until her mother urged her to go to an academy so she wouldn't let her powers go to waste like her father did. After doing so, being out in the world more, she met Hiyoko and Hiro; in which she happily adopted the former and angrily married the latter.

Angie (My beloved) - A healing-based blood mage raised communally on an island, she heals others wounds with their own blood and often secretly takes their blood for her own use while doing so; mostly to feed her partner Kiyo, but she also has a fascination for blood of her own, initially being a result of her village's blood sacrifices and now a result of her blood magic. Generally a loud nuisance, though a medically helpful nuisance, in her academy.

@samsquatchem :

Doodle + blurb done by Snelly ♥

Yasuhiro (Their beloved) - A nomadic powerful mage with a wide variety of powers, mostly focusing on clairvoyance and near-limitless telekinesis; generally wanders around getting money wherever he can but spending it horrendously, ending up in a constant flat circle of time. He’s basically homeless; not out of poverty but what he considers convenience and tax evasion, for the most part and bums around Mahiru’s place. Close friends and a father figure to Hiyoko, (much to Mahiru’s initial dismay) the two bond over their shared tendency to wander and be in a new place every week + magic that neither know how to use properly, she became quickly attached to him due to him being the first person to talk to her after she ran away from home. Hiro is able to see the future but unable to speak it verbatim or else the opposite outcome will come to fruition, he can only nudge clients in the right direction of his visions. Most people think his magic is a scam and he’s the most useless mage ever.

@sutexii :

Chiaki (My Beloved) - A wooden mask enchanted with a human soul, powered by dream juice and magic robotics. Created by Chihiro to live in the dream realm (where u go when u sleep + also where the killing games take place) to gather data on it for Chihiro’s research, and help those in it travel safely. Has a deep fascination with the unpredictable and strange, and enjoys seeking out new knowledge wherever she can. Still likes her games, and while originally given access to some to help entertain those she’s traveling with, she just ends up hoarding them herself.

Tenko (Most Focused On ATM) - Commonfolk w/ a smidge of monster that comes out when her anger peaks. Abandoned due to said anger issues as a child, and taken in by Aoi and Sakura. She had a very Ghibli idyllic childhood, having adventures with friends and delivering donuts for her mom. Learned martial arts from her mom, taking a particular liking to Aikido, and through it learned to control her anger. Follows childhood crush Himiko around to protect her, leading to her entering the less than legal artifact smuggling trade with her later in life.

Aoi (Most Developed) - Water elemental with a love for baking donuts and raising/rehabilitating carp. Married to Sakura, having met when she wandered into the pond in her family’s abandoned dojo and decided to stay to fix it up, motivating Sakura to fix the rest of the place up in turn. Very carefree, friendly, and laid back, loves kids and taking on the “fun auntie” role. Never worked on her humanoid appearance much at all until motherhood, Tenko enters their life and it became hard to hold back a feral monster baby with fins.

@Soupcifer_ :

Nekomaru (Franken-maru) (most developed) - A reanimated corpse who was brought back to life thanks to the help of Kazuichi and Mikan. Unfortunately, he has amnesia and thus no recollection of his past friendships and family. He's a lot more quiet and mellow in comparison to his old self which makes him seem pretty dull, but in actuality he's being rather attentive and simply trying to understand everything that's happening. He does a lot of behind-the-scenes work when no ones looking like cleaning up after Kazuichi and setting reminders for Akane (still a team manager at heart).

Gonta (My beloved) - A vampire raised by werewolves. He only recently came to terms with being a vampire as he lived most of his life assuming the form of a wolf. He has an obsession with bugs, classic literature, and vintage clothing. Gonta likes to follow around a few of his friends, Angie and Korekyio (wink), and be of assistance whenever he can. He unfortunately has trouble dealing with his vampire nature sometimes due to only having lived with werewolves, so he often turns to Korekiyo for help.

Chihiro (most focused on) - An electric elemental! Chihiro is the creator/parent of Chiaki and Monomi. They have a passion for creating things that run on electricity and magic and as a result created their two lovely daughters (that and to investigate the dream realm). Chihiro also has the ability to possess electronics and machinery! Despite being incredibly small, they can emit a surprisingly large amount of energy which makes possessing large or complicated machinery an easy task.

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trans-mink · 3 years ago

Note

Do tell about your beloved kana, patience, halimon and vincent and rosetta and cinnamon and astrid!! (You could do a mambo no 5 cover with this)

YOU COULD!!! putting them under a cut bcs i dont wanna clog the dash lmao

So Kana and Patience (Patsy for short) are my newest OCs im so sorry to say they are dmmd OCs

so to preface, i have my own version of the dmmd universe where my OCs exist, several characters are trans and theres less questionable stuff n im sorry if this doesnt make sense if ur not familiar with the game. anyways...

Kana is a young bi trans woman who wound up in prison (before she fully cracked her egg) because she was addicted to this in universe thing called rhyme (its not important) but anyway she became part of Mink's gang after he busted them out of prison and basically was fuck buddies with her boss for a bit before he disappeared. After Mink's main route she becomes Aoba's bestie bcs Mink basically told her to watch over him.

She likes weed and dresses quite gothy/ emo. She works in a shop called deadbeats which is a second hand music store.

I gotta draw her more but... here she is with her bearded dragon

Havent drawn Patsy yet but she's a young black girl with purple hair, tends to dress quite bright. She's a jenga champion and /will/ cheat at monopoly. in my universe she lets aoba stay with her while he's in america looking for Mink. She's cool and bisexual and her dream is to travel around south america with her girlfriend one day.

Halimone, Rosetta, Cinnamon and kiiinda by extension Astrid are all Dungeons and dragons characters. Astrid was originally an MCU Asgard OC I made when I was like 14. They're not as developed but hey.

Hal is a gorgon who lives in the woods and wouldnt hurt a fly (think I'll make her a druid class or something). Her twists are snakes.

Rosetta (inspired by sister rosetta tharpe) is an archfey who escaped her home and travels around playing guitar for money as a bard.

Cinnamon was my first DnD OC and they are a little red tiefling magician. I don't have a solid story for them yet but they were a magicians apprentice until their tutor disappeared. (They're kind of a self insert)

I haven't drawn Astrid in years and my old art of her is bad but originally she was one of Thor's warrior friends. She has long bright red rapunzel- like hair that can go on fire, tends to wear it in viking braids. I think I'll repurpose her as an Aasimar Paladin/ barbairan when i end up playing another campaign.

I also have another OC called Eliza from the same universe which was literally just my 14 y/o self insert but I wanna repurpose her too.

And finally Vincent (vince for short). Bisexual he/they. Is a vampire the masquerade OC. He got turned at the age of 26 after a horrific biking accident where he was run over and almost died, it was the 80s so he's kind of a boomer when it comes to tech sometimes. He's in clan Brujah and likes robbing shit from rich ppls houses and then drinks their blood while they're asleep. He also helps out at night soup kitchens when he can, he's good.

Ive tortured you enough if you've read this far. Thanks for coming to my TED talk x

#ty for the ask!!#OCs #wezza reports

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northernindigenousbeautyhailey · 3 years ago

Text

TAMRA JEWEL KEEPNESS.

FEW CHILDREN IN CANADA JUST VANISH. Fewer still stay gone for longer than a couple of days. Some are found alive, others are hurt or killed, but rarely does a child simply disappear. The RCMP’s National Centre for Missing Persons and Unidentified Remains database lists 147 missing children, in a country of more than 35 million people. Of the sixty children under the age of twelve, a quarter are thought to have been abducted by their parents. A large portion of the others were lost to apparent accidents or misadventure, falling through ice or swept away in the pull of wild rivers, their bodies never recovered. The database shows twenty-four children in the past sixty years who have inexplicably disappeared. Because there are so few, we know them. In Edmonton, there is Tania Murrell, six when she vanished while walking home from school for lunch in January 1983. In Toronto, Nicole Morin, eight when she disappeared from a condominium building in July 1985. Michael Dunahee was four years old when he went missing from a playground in Victoria in 1991. In Regina, there is only Tamra Keepness.

THE LAST TIME anyone saw Tamra, she was five years old, with bobbed black hair and soft, round cheeks. In one picture, she wears a T-shirt dotted with flowers, standing against the colourful collage of a classroom wall. Her smile is broad and open, her eyes lively. She was so smart that her mother called her “my little Einstein,” so feisty that when a little boy pushed her once, Tamra shoved him right back, and harder. She liked playing Mario Kart on Nintendo and climbing her favourite tree, down the block from her house.

July 6, 2004, was the first time Sergeant Ron Weir would hear Tamra’s name. He was getting ready to leave on vacation that day when he got an urgent call back to the police station. Weir was a veteran cop with the Regina Police Service and head of emergency services, which included search and rescue. In a meeting, officers from the major crimes unit laid out what they knew: sometime between the night of Monday, July 5, and the morning of Tuesday, July 6, a five-year-old girl had gone missing from her home in central Regina.

Weir had been a police officer for twenty years. He knew that kids often went missing and turned up safe a short time later. Sixty-five percent of missing children and teens are located within the first day, and almost 90 percent within the first week. But Weir also knew that Tamra was too young to get far as a runaway. Patrol officers had already checked the neighbourhood to make sure Tamra hadn’t wandered away or ended up at the house of a playmate or relative, as was often the case with missing children. They’d found nothing. Even in the early hours of the investigation, Weir suspected this case would be different.

TAMRA LIVED with her mother, stepfather, and five siblings at 1834 Ottawa Street, a shabby brown-and-white two-storey with a windowed porch at the front. The house stood between 11th and 12th avenues, just east of downtown Regina. The neighbourhood was a mix of long-time elderly residents, young families drawn by low prices for heritage houses, and ramshackle homes where residents struggled with poverty and addiction. The area was sometimes known as the “low stroll,” a place where women and girls sold their bodies for drugs or booze and men drove around looking to buy them, circling the neighbourhood in trucks and station wagons. Many of the women and girls who lived or worked in the area were First Nations, like Tamra. Long before calls for a federal inquiry into missing and murdered Indigenous women would dominate the political conversation, women were going missing from those streets. It was from that same area that nineteen-year-old Annette Kelly Peigan disappeared in 1983, followed by eighteen-year-old Patsy Favel in 1984 and Joyce Tillotson in 1993. Two years later, two young white men picked up a woman named Pamela George, sexually assaulted her, and beat her to death.

The last public development came in November 2014, when a Reddit user posted to the website a scrawled map with the words: “Location of Tamra Keepness, check the wells.”

Tamra’s house was less than a block from the Oskana Centre, a halfway house for federal parolees, and not far from the Salvation Army’s Waterston House, a residence and shelter inhabited by former inmates and men struggling with drugs, alcohol, and psychiatric issues. Residents of both facilities had been responsible for serious attacks in the past. Just four months earlier, convicted violent sex offender Randy Burgmann had lured a woman into his room at Waterston House with alcohol, before violently sexually assaulting her and leaving her beside a dumpster to die. The Oskana Centre had previously been home to both serial rapist Larry Deckert and Billy John Francis Whitedeer, who began committing violent sexual offences on children when he was ten years old. A few blocks farther was the Ehrle Hotel, one of the worst bars in town, from which patrons spilled soggy and staggering onto the sidewalk, and which appeared regularly in police reports and court testimony.

Police also had serious questions about what was happening at 1834 Ottawa Street. There was a broken window and blood spatter in the porch. Social Services had been involved with the family since not long after the oldest child was born in 1993, and there had been more than fifty reports made to crisis workers, most often about Tamra’s mother’s use of alcohol and drugs, and neglect of the children. Her mother’s boyfriend had a history of violence and domestic assault. In most cases, investigators knew, children are hurt by people closest to them.

POLICE STARTED with a thorough search of the area immediately around the home, then cast their efforts outward in an expanding grid. As the sun rose on the morning of July 7, 2004, the search effort intensified. First, there were ten officers, then twenty, then more. Some officers accompanied trained volunteer search teams; others questioned family members and potential witnesses, going door-to-door gathering leads or chasing down tips. The RCMP training academy provided cadets, and members of the public soon began arriving on their own to help.

Police set up a command-centre bus in the parking lot of a nearby church, from which Weir co-ordinated the search. Though it was an urban environment, the terrain posed serious challenges. The area was filled with overgrown yards, empty houses, piles of garbage. Tamra weighed forty pounds, and stood three foot five. There were so many places a child could hide or get trapped or be held, where a child’s body could be concealed or dumped. Searchers in orange vests worked in grids, knocking on doors, inspecting junked cars and crumbling garages, peering under discarded mattresses and piles of wood, looking down manholes. Police stopped garbage pickups, checking all the bins in the neighbourhood, the trash putrid and reeking in the summer heat. Some bins had already been emptied, so plans were made to search the dump as well.

And what if she had been taken farther? Not far away were industrial areas, large abandoned lots and buildings, Wascana Creek, and beyond that, the vast Prairie. With a thirteen-hour head start, someone in a vehicle could have had Tamra in Vancouver before she was reported missing.

When they were not speaking to police, members of Tamra’s family waited anxiously on the fringes, watching the searchers, eyeing the growing assembly of reporters and news crews holding out microphones and pointing camera lenses. “It’s not like her to go off by herself,” said Tamra’s father, Troy Keepness, sitting on the front steps of his ex-wife’s house, his voice tight with worry. “We’re trying to do our best to get her back.”

Weir worked in the command-centre bus, surrounded by maps and whiteboards. A scribe logged every aspect of the search in real time, recording ideas and progress. No one wanted to break, not for food or rest. Everyone knew the situation grew more serious with every passing hour. As the heat of the day gave way to evening, Weir stood outside and looked up. A strong wind had come in, and storm clouds were spreading, darkening the Prairie sky.

The next day, police strung crime-scene tape around Tamra’s house and the one next door, drawing it through the back alley and across six garages, long slashes of yellow dividing the street. Officers guarded the perimeter while forensic investigators went in and out of the house in boots and masks. “While we don’t have any direct evidence that Tamra has come to any harm, we also don’t know where she is,” police spokeswoman Elizabeth Popowich told reporters. “And if, in fact, this comes to a point where we determine that she’s come to some harm and it’s because of a criminal act, this location could potentially be the scene of some evidence.”

THERE WERE three adults in the house that evening: the children’s mother, Lorena Keepness; her boyfriend, Dean McArthur; and a family friend named Russell Sheepskin, who had been staying with the family. All three had come and gone during the night, and investigators were starting to question their movements. There were no signs of forced entry to the house, and there were gaps, inconsistencies in their timelines that didn’t make sense to investigators.

The story the three told publicly, compiled from various interviews, was that Lorena and McArthur got into an argument while watching a movie on Monday evening, and McArthur and Sheepskin left the house around 8:30 p.m. to go drinking. The men returned briefly to drop off a bottle of formula for the baby, then left again. Lorena went out around 11 p.m, kissing Tamra goodbye before she went. The oldest child in the house was ten-year-old Summer, the youngest was Lorena and McArthur’s nine-month-old baby. Lorena returned briefly to check on the children and then left again around midnight. At about 3 a.m., Sheepskin returned home drunk and saw Tamra sleeping on the couch. Not long after, McArthur got back to the house and assaulted Sheepskin on the porch, punching him through a window and then stomping on his head. (Both men later said the fight had nothing to do with Tamra.) Sheepskin walked alone to the hospital to get stitches, and McArthur went to stay at his aunt’s house a few blocks away. Though it should have been a short walk, he said he got lost and kept passing out as he walked there. He didn’t arrive for at least two hours, until 5 or 5:30 a.m. Meanwhile, Lorena got home around 3:15 or 3:30 a.m., climbed in through a window, and passed out on the couch. She said that she got up to undo the latch on the door for her mother around 8 or 9 a.m. and that the two eldest children, Summer and Rayne, left on their own in the morning to attend a summer day-camp. Lorena didn’t realize Tamra wasn’t there until about three hours later, when the five-year-old didn’t come downstairs. At 12:16 p.m., a family member called the police and told them Tamra was missing.

Rayne, who was eight, said he had gone to bed squeezed into the space between the wall and mattresses piled on the floor in an upstairs bedroom. He told his mother he felt Tamra get up at some point, the slight movement of a child’s weight. All he could remember was that it was light outside.

FRIDAY WAS hot again and wet from the previous night’s rain. An odour of decay hung in the air around Ottawa Street. Tamra had been gone three full days and become national news. Her picture seemed to be everywhere, hanging on street poles and store windows. In news stories, she became “missing five-year-old Tamra Keepness,” but more often she was just Tamra, as if we knew her. The front page of the Regina Leader-Post spoke directly to her, asking, “Tamra, Where Did You Go?”

Tips flooded in to police. On the street, there were rumours that Tamra had been seen at a dollar store with an older woman. Business owners in the neighbourhood said detectives had been looking for a middle-aged white man named Roch or Rocky, but police wouldn’t confirm whether that was related to the search. Lorena and McArthur said they gave police the names of five people they thought could be suspects, including a man who had befriended Tamra and later been discovered to be a pedophile. For a while, there was even a theory that Tamra had never existed at all, that she had been a scam to get extra money from Social Services. (Hospital records proved that was not the case.)

Searchers were coming from around the province to volunteer, streaming into the city from towns and First Nations communities, motivated by the faces of their own children or grandchildren to help in whatever way they could. “I’ve got a boy, and he’s twenty-one,” said Jerry Scott, one of the volunteers who joined the search. “And if he left, I’d go nuts, too.” Around the city, people organized vigils and barbecues, brought water and snacks for the searchers, wrapped ribbons around trees to show their support. Some left teddy bears and angels on the steps of Tamra’s house. Days of intensive searches had turned up lots of items that seemed as though they could be connected—clothing, a child’s shoe—but none of it belonged to Tamra. “I’m starting to go on different conclusions, like maybe someone took her, I don’t know,” Troy Keepness said. “I just hope nobody would hurt my daughter.”

WHEN Tamra had been gone a week, police announced they were suspending the ground searches. At a press conference, Regina police chief Cal Johnston announced a $25,000 reward for information and vowed, “We will find Tamra.” Police questioned sex offenders living in the area and obtained surveillance tapes from convenience stores, bars, gas stations, and the Greyhound bus depot nearby. Johnston confirmed that “criminal interference with Tamra is a distinct possibility” and drew attention back to Tamra’s house and family. “There were comings and goings from the house that night that remain not fully explained to our satisfaction, and we continue to ask those questions,” he told reporters. He would not elaborate.

Tamra’s family was growing increasingly angry at the police, and the strain of the situation was starting to show. Lorena told reporters she’d signed consent forms for police to search her house and had given her DNA, but still she felt as if they were focusing too much on her family and not enough on trying to find Tamra. She was angry that police hadn’t closed the highways out of the city and that there was no Amber Alert because police said it didn’t meet the criteria. “I’m fed up,” she told reporters. “They are wasting time. This is my little girl we’re talking about.”

The family was growing frustrated with the media, too. Lorena’s mother yelled obscenities at reporters one day, and on another, members of the family nearly came to blows with a TV reporter doing a live update from the front lawn. They had been watching the news inside the house when they heard the reporter imply what many in the city were already wondering: If not someone in that house, then who?

On July 19, two weeks after Tamra had been reported missing, police charged McArthur with assaulting Sheepskin the night Tamra disappeared. McArthur told reporters he had been interrogated for twenty hours, not about the assault, but about Tamra and about what had gone on inside the house that night. “It was always the same questions, and they were assuming that I knew the answers to those questions, but I didn’t know the answers, and I still don’t know the answers,” he said. “I would never hurt a hair on that little girl’s head.”

Two days later, Tamra’s brothers and sisters were removed from the home by child-protection officers. Tamra’s twin sister wore messy pigtails and clutched a colouring book and a yellow blanket as two women led the children away down the front steps of the house. Neither government officials nor police would say whether the children’s seizure was related to Tamra’s disappearance. When the children were gone, police searched the house again.

One night late that summer, Tamra’s father, Troy, showed up at the house with a baseball bat and confronted her stepfather, McArthur. Troy was charged with assault, though McArthur later said police “got things misunderstood.” “Everybody’s looking for answers,” he said. “We more or less talked.”

LORENA KEEPNESS was fourteen years old when she ran away from her home on the White Bear First Nation, 200 kilometres southeast of Regina. She had been in residential school for about three months, but that wasn’t what did it. For her, it was the same ugly stuff at home. She found her way to Regina. When her mom tried to take her home, Lorena wouldn’t go. She lived on the streets instead.

She had her daughter Summer Wind when she was twenty, her son Rayne Dance not long after. It was after the ultrasound for her third baby that she walked home in a daze and told her husband, Troy, “We’re having twins.” She kept repeating it until it sunk in, and then they just stood together in the kitchen and laughed. Her mother said “Way to go!” but Lorena told her, “They came from God. Not like I planted those in me.”

The babies were born on September 1, 1998. Fraternal twin girls, each weighing more than six pounds, carried almost right to term and curved around one another like pieces of a puzzle. Lorena and Troy split up when the twins were little, and after that, the girls stayed sometimes with their mother, sometimes with their father or with other relatives. Lorena and Troy each struggled with substance abuse, and their lives were sometimes too troubled and unstable to have the children with them. At five, Tamra was bold and courageous, and protective of her twin sister. Once, Lorena heard a soft knock in the middle of the night and opened the door to find the twins standing there. The children had left their father’s house and walked four blocks back to Lorena’s in the middle of the night, Tamra leading her sister by the hand as they found their way through the dark. REGINA POLICE received more than a thousand tips in the first six weeks after Tamra’s disappearance. At one point, a Volkswagen van that had been stolen the night Tamra disappeared was found burned outside the city. A jail guard told police she and a former inmate had stolen it, picked up Tamra, and then dumped the child’s body in a ravine on the Muscowpetung First Nation. Ron Weir led a week-long search on Muscowpetung, draining multiple beaver dams with compressor pumps, while searchers slogged through water up to their hips. The jail guard later confessed she had made up the story. She was charged with mischief and wrote a letter apologizing to the police. In court, her lawyer said she had been trying to get her abusive boyfriend locked up again.

Returning from medical leave to the police department in the fall of 2004, superintendent Troy Hagen could feel how Tamra’s disappearance was weighing on his colleagues. Hagen noticed it in everyone he spoke to, from the police chief down, whether they were involved with the case or not. Sergeant Rod Buckingham, one of the lead investigators, was among those who felt the growing frustration. “It’s a mystery,” he would say. “And I don’t like mysteries.”

Officers had spoken with more than 6,000 people by then, but there had been no arrests, and leads were drying up. Shortly after, a special task force was struck to re-examine the case, to see whether anything had been missed. The name of the project was iskwesis ayishowak e mamayahi, a Cree term meaning “little girl bring people together.”

TWELVE YEARS LATER, Lorena Keepness spends her days doing odd jobs and picking bottles, trading them in at the depot for cash. She is forty-three and lives with her eldest son in a rundown shack of a house on Victoria Avenue, a fifteen-minute walk from Ottawa Street. Lorena’s children were never permanently returned to her custody after the disappearance, and the three babies she had after that were all taken by Social Services, too. Tamra’s twin sister is seventeen now. Lorena says she is an athlete, smart and beautiful. Lorena lost her family pictures when someone threw all her stuff in the garbage a few years ago. The only photos she has of Tamra now are the ones on missing-child posters.

Tamra’s twin and her older sister, Summer, don’t want to be interviewed. Neither does Tamra’s father, Troy. McArthur couldn’t be reached. Lorena needs a six-pack of Black Ice beer to talk. She doesn’t really want to be interviewed either. She has never liked reporters or their questions, and it hurts to talk about that time. “But part of me wants to,” she says, as her face crumples. “Part of me needs to share what the fuck happened. Someone stole my child.”

Lorena has heard many theories about what happened to her daughter. Some believe Tamra wandered away and was abducted by a driver cruising the area or that she got lost, then crawled in somewhere so small she has never been found. Other theories focus on the adults in the house that night. Some officers will say off-the-record that they think Tamra is in the dump but that they just couldn’t find her in the mountains of debris. Many in the city believe that Lorena and McArthur sold or traded Tamra to pay off a cocaine debt. Lorena has heard that one the most. One night, she was at a bar and heard some women talking, loud enough so she could hear. “Yeah, she sold her kid for dope. She has a whole bunch of babies. She has kids just to sell them for drugs.” Her friend told her not to listen, but Lorena couldn’t ignore it. She swore at the women, promised she would get them for even thinking she could do that to her child. They met at the same bar again the next day, and that time they fought, a tangle of hair and fists. One of them had a knife and slashed her twice on the back of her arm. More scars to wear for life. It wasn’t the only time. One night, she was attacked in Moose Jaw. Not long ago, a woman shouted “Baby killer!” at her across the street.

Lorena and Dean McArthur are still together, on and off—“more on than off,” she says. Police tried hard to turn them against each other, but she always believed him in the end. He may be all kinds of things, she says, but he’s not a baby killer. “If I thought he did something to my daughter, I would have killed him myself,” she says. “I think the police were just so sure. They figured, ‘These guys are a bunch of nobodies. She did her own child.’ They already had their conclusions drawn before they even tried to look for anything.”

The suggestion she could have had something to do with her daughter’s disappearance still pushes Lorena to the point of violence. You can see her eyes flash, her muscles tighten at the question. But she holds back— it’s not worth going to jail. She’s had enough of the police, has grown used to the accusations. In the past twelve years, she’s repeated her story publicly many times, and it has never really changed.

REGINA POLICE have never released full details about the investigation into Tamra’s disappearance, on the grounds that it remains an open case that they still hope to solve. In an interview, Troy Hagen, now Regina’s police chief, would not speak about any working theories or confirm any specifics of the investigation, including whether one of the people questioned about Tamra’s disappearance had failed a polygraph test. Instead, Hagen echoed what police have said since the beginning: That there remain important unanswered questions about the comings and goings from the house on Ottawa Street that night. That they will continue to investigate every tip. That they won’t stop looking for Tamra until they find her. He pointed to cases in the United States where children have been gone for years, sometimes decades, and then been found alive. In Canada, twelve-year-old Abby Drover was held in an underground bunker in Port Moody, British Columbia, for six months after being abducted by her neighbour in 1976. There was an intensive search of her community—including by her abductor—but she had been only feet away from her house the entire time. She was found alive. It seems impossible, but it happens. “I refuse to lose hope,” Hagen says.

The years since Tamra’s disappearance have exposed the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women in Canada. Suspected serial killers are facing charges in the Prairies, but there has been no public indication that Tamra’s disappearance may be connected to any of those cases. Hagen said police have also explored a possible connection with thirteen-year-old Courtney Struble, who disappeared from Estevan, a city 200 kilometres from Regina, four days after Tamra was last seen. Investigators initially believed that Struble was a runaway, and she had been gone for seven years before RCMP announced that her case had become a homicide investigation. No one has ever been charged, and her remains have never been located. Hagen says it’s strange to have two unsolved missing-children cases linked so closely in time and geographic proximity. He says the possibility of a connection was “very much” explored by police, but there doesn’t appear to be a correlation. The police investigation into Tamra’s disappearance is one of the largest and costliest in Regina’s history, but Hagen says it has never been about the money. If there were more leads or work for investigators, the police chief says he would reconvene the task force “in a heartbeat.” But the flood of tips has slowed. The reward for information that leads to finding her, now $50,000, sits unclaimed. The last public development came in November 2014, when a Reddit user with the name MySecretIsOut posted a scrawled map with the words: “Location of Tamra Keepness, check the wells.” The person later wrote that the map belonged to their grandmother and had come from a great-aunt who had visited an inmate in Alberta. “We, like many others, haven’t forgotten about you, Tamra, and continue to search and hope you are found,” the person posted. Police searched twenty-one wells around Muscowpetung but found nothing.

Sheepskin died on January 1, 2009, “with his family by his side,” according to his obituary. Many of the police officers who worked on Tamra’s case have retired or moved from the department to other jobs. Hagen says he thinks of Tamra whenever he is walking through the forest, not looking for her but always half expecting to see her there. Sometimes he looks at people he passes on the street, examining their faces and imagining what Tamra might look like now.

THROUGH THE YEARS, Lorena has developed her own theories about what happened to her daughter. These days, she mainly wonders about a drifter who used to stay with them, a woman Lorena knew from when she was a girl. A woman who sometimes told people she was pregnant even though she wasn’t, who Lorena knew by one name but whose medical documents said something else. The woman was around so much that Lorena’s children called her Big Auntie. Big Auntie had been staying at the house before Tamra disappeared, but left after she and Lorena had a falling out. Lorena says it took a long time to realize Big Auntie wasn’t coming around any more. When she did, she put word out on the streets, but no one there had seen her either. Big Auntie didn’t even show up for her own sister’s funeral in Regina a few years back. Lorena says she told the police about Big Auntie many times, but doesn’t know whether they ever found her, or whether they even looked. “She’s just gone now,” Lorena says. “Same time as my child.” Maybe it’s something. Or maybe Big Auntie is missing, too.

When I ask Lorena whether she thinks Tamra will ever be found, she struggles for an answer. “I don’t know,” she says. “But can I tell you about a dream I had?” There are two, both so vivid it’s as if they were real. In one, Tamra is inside a big house in a city Lorena has never seen. There are silk clothes draped around, and broad windows, and Tamra is upstairs, sitting on the edge of a bathtub putting on stockings. She is grown, with dark, shiny hair like her mother’s but cut straight all around. In the other dream, Tamra is still a little girl, running into her mother’s arms. “There you are!” Lorena says. “There you are!” She picks up her child and holds her, until Tamra wriggles free and is lost again.

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jessicajonesrp · 4 years ago

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Round up at the Raft

Somehow, miraculously, Trish actually managed to stay quiet for the majority of the trip to the Raft. Probably because she knew that Jessica, in her pregnant, stressed out, and very sober state, could not handle much more to trigger her temper, and would likely respond to any irritations from Trish by simply jumping out of the car and hitching a cab the rest of the way.

Jessica would have thought that would be a plus, Trish’s lack of chattering, but instead, it just gave her own thoughts more time to run rampant until she felt that her skin was riddled with adrenaline that she couldn’t bleed out. She bounced her legs jaggedly from the passenger seat, and by the time they did make it to the outskirts of the East River, just off Roosevelt Island. She had been given the approximate coordinates of the location that the Raft would be made accessible to her for her visit to Phillip, and as Trish drew closer to their destination, Jessica texted back and forth with the doctor, sent ahead of her a couple of hours before, to confirm that he had arrived with the vaccinations and that all staff and prisoners had been appropriately protected against Kilgrave. She had arranged a code word ahead of time for him to use if he had any contact with Kilgrave, and when the word was not used, she could be somewhat assured that everything, so far, was going as hoped.

If the doctor could be trusted. And if the vaccines had all worked. If, if, if.

Jessica had little nervousness about seeing Phillip again, at least, that she was able to admit to herself. It would be difficult to see the impact that prison life and isolation had on her little brother, but his choices were his own, and he was lucky that he still had any kind of life at all. She hoped that he would remember that and choose to be cooperative, or at least that she would still recognize at least some pieces of the brother she loved in what the Raft was shaping him into now. But that was beyond her control and beside the point.

It was the expectation of Kilgrave popping up that jarred her, mentally and emotionally. It didn’t matter how much protection they had put in place for people or how high the chances that they would succeed, Jessica still felt strong dread and responsibility to think of all the people he had harmed already and all those he may still. Even though she was no longer vulnerable to Kilgrave’s commands, nor was Trish, Luke, or the others most important to her, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be harmed by someone who was, or that her PTSD had received that memo.

Everything on the river’s shoreline was as had been described to her- a huge garbage scow at the water’s surface, covering up the facility underneath, and although she could not see the cameras or guards, Jessica knew they were there, outside easy surface view. She scanned their surroundings, every muscle drawn taut, and checked the time. Fifteen minutes until the Raft would come to surface, twenty-five until it would submerge. Trish had driven too damn fast for someone who talked about Jessica’s reckless driving skills.

She sent Luke a quick text to let him know she and Trish had arrived, distantly aware that Trish was doing the same for Luke. When a warm hand touched her shoulder, Jessica jumped, her head almost hitting the roof of the car, and barely stopped herself from taking a swing at Trish. Trish, used to this, ducked back just out of her reach and removed her hand.

“I know you hate pep talks, so, hard as it is, I’ll refrain, even though this is absolutely the perfect time and place for one. Notice and appreciate my self control.”

She smiled, her tone playful, but she was obviously assessing Jessica, seeking to reassure in her own sneaky, totally denying it fashion. Jessica shrugged, abruptly shoving open the car’s door.

“Whatever, I don’t do appreciation. That falls under etiquette, and that’s just a waste of time. I’m going to go ahead to the shoreline and wait. Don’t come with me.”

“You still have time before you can go in,” Trish started, but ignoring her, Jessica continued forward. She noticed and was irritated that Trish also got out of the car and followed her, but didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t like the guards would let her in, she hadn’t been approved for that. If she wanted to stand there and have Jessica not talk to her, well, she would get bored faster than Jessica would, for sure.

From the distance, Jessica could hear the smooth, nearly purring engine of an expensive-sounding car, coming closer. She tensed, stopping in her tracks, and resisted the urge to turn around or look over her shoulder. It was probably Danny, coming to accompany them after all, or one of his many employees. Maybe it was even a guard of the Raft, coming in for duty.

But she heard Trish’s gasp as the car drew closer, and the other woman’s quickening footsteps as she caught up to Jessica and grabbed hold of her arm. Jessica had to turn then, but even before she saw the figure emerging from the vehicle that had just parked beside theirs, she already knew from the shaky, cold sense of dread spiking through her just who it was that had arrived.

“Jessica Jones, we meet again. With sustained effort and perseverance on my part, of course.”

Jessica held herself rigidly, noticing with absolute horror that there were three children sitting in the back of the vehicle that Kilgrave had arrived in, all between the ages of approximately five and eight years old. Even more sickening was the fact that all of the children were clearly biracial- just as her own child would be. It was a cruel, evil move, and an obviously intentional reminder of just what Kilgrave was willing to do to Jessica’s own child, if it suited his purpose or goals.

“Kilgrave,” she spat out, the word twisted and sharp on her tongue. “What did you do, put a hidden camera in every building in the city? I knew you’d end up here somehow. Fucking knew it.”

“No, I simply had bugs implanted in all of the cars under Danny Rand’s ownership that I could get people to get hold of,” he shrugged, unruffled by Jessica’s tone. “Anything to reach you. You should know by now the effort I’m willing to go to, to find you. Doesn’t that prove to you how much I love you? What is it that a man has to do for that to get through?”

“No, it proves that you’re a psychotic, sociopathic stalker who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,” Jessica snapped, not yet taking a step towards him. “And that you’re selfish enough to care more about what you want than anyone else’s life or happiness.”

Her eyes remained on the children, who as of yet were sitting seemingly calmly in the car. She could not see from her distance if any of them had been harmed, but she knew from her own experience just how terrified and out of control they must feel.

“Persistent and devoted would be how I would describe it, but you always did have a sharp tongue. Making everything sound so ugly,” Kilgrave shook his head, making a face of displeased disagreement. “I’d say we can agree to disagree, but I suppose you rather enjoy being contrary. That’s my Jessica.”

“I’m not your anything,” Jessica snapped, taking a step towards him, every muscle tensed for confrontation, fists balled at her side. “I’m nothing to you but your victim, and I refuse to be anymore. Let those kids go. This isn’t about them, Kilgrave.”

To Trish, she ground out in an undertone, “Trish, go to the car. Right now.”

Trish licked her lips, but stood her ground. Kilgrave, to Jessica’s dismay, turned his gaze towards her.

“Patsy,” Kilgrave inclined his head towards Trish, obvious disgust in his voice. “Let me ask you, Patsy, how is it that a woman with absolutely no useful abilities or skills manages to escape my efforts to dispose of her on multiple occasions? Is it sheer luck, or do you have some sort of innate self-preservation talent that saves you when your friends cannot? I truly do want to know, now.”

It was a command- the first directed at Trish, or at anyone who had been vaccinated, since the doses had been doled out. Jessica nearly held her breath, waiting to see what would happen, her fear choking her throat when Trish opened her mouth to respond.

But rather than respond to his question, Trish closed her mouth, shook her head, and smirked.

“Too bad for you, Kevin. I don’t feel like talking to you, so it looks like for one of the very first times in your life, you aren’t going to get what you want.”

For the first time that Jessica could remember doing so of her own free will, she smiled, right there in Kilgrave’s presence. It was impossible not to when the man’s jaw had nearly dropped to his chest.

“That wasn’t an option, Patsy!” he barked, blinking furiously in an effort to regroup himself. “I asked you a question. How is it that you keep escaping death?”

“She gave you an answer, didn’t you hear her?” Jessica put in, smirking. “She said it’s none of your fucking business, and no one’s in control of her tongue but her. Including you.”

“What she said,” Trish agreed, nodding. “With slightly less profanity. But she got it right all the same.”

Kilgrave took a step back, as though Trish’s lack of response to his order was somehow a threat to him, an endangerment. Truthfully, it was, although he could not know to the extent. The vaccines worked- Jessica now had seen the proof for herself, and her heart beat faster now not with fear, but with excitement.

They were going to get him. They were going to end this, finally. They just had to get through the next few minutes first.

“How did you- this is you!” he sputtered, jabbing a finger in Jessica’s direction. “You infected her somehow. Always you, messing things up, making things harder! Why can’t you ever just let things be!”

“Because I have a mind and will of my own, and it isn’t your fucking place to steal it,” Jessica snapped back. “Now get down on the ground, on your stomach, hands behind your back, unless you want me to break your neck. Again. And if you have any other little soldiers in hiding, call them off.”

But Kilgrave didn’t respond. When Jessica sprung forward, grabbing him and far from gently throwing him down and into a restraint on the ground herself, she heard Trish gasp, sucking in a breath. Kilgrave, unresisting beneath her, laughed softly to himself.

“I have to say, Jessie, this brings back fond memories. I always did like you on top.”

“Shut the fuck up!” she snarled, giving him a vicious shake.

She drew back her fist to punch him, hard enough to knock him unconscious, but Trish’s sharp calling of her name caused her to look up, then follow her pointing finger to the children, still seated in the car Kilgrave had driven up in. Only now, each of them held a knife to their tiny throats, digging in just enough that Jessica saw small beads of blood come to the surface of their skin.

Clearly, they had been holding the knives in their laps, just waiting for Kilgrave to be harmed or restrained. What the fuck was she supposed to do now?

Kilgrave laughed, understanding even as Jessica forced his face into the dirt what was happening.

“Try it, Jessie, go ahead and kill me. What’s three more deaths, when you can take down big bad me? It’s worth it, isn’t it? Just a few more deaths on your conscience, so what if they happen to be little kids?”

Jessica froze, stricken with indecision for several seconds. Then, making a decision, she released Kilgrave, throwing him off and away from her. When the children did not further harm themselves, watching solemnly, fear and pain stark in their wide eyes, and Kilgrave, chuckling, started to get to his feet, Jessica blocked out the words he was saying. Instead she took one long jump, landing somewhat gracelessly next to the children in the car, and tugged open the back door. She pried the knives out of each child’s hand, despite their screams and protesting efforts to regain them, and easily broke the knives into pieces before flinging them hard into the East River. As the children pushed past her out of the car, rushing towards the water’s edge in an effort to retrieve the pieces of knife that were already washing past their ability to find, Jessica grabbed one of them by the wrist, hesitating with a guilty grimace.

“Sorry, kid, I have to.”

She hit him, with just enough restraint that she prayed it wouldn’t’ cause permanent head injuries, but enough that the child went unconscious. She lay him down gently and snagged a second child. Trish, seeing what her intentions were, used what Jessica assumed to be some of the ninja skills Danny had been teaching her to restrain Kilgrave, even as Jessica rendered the second and last child unconscious and therefore safe from self harm. Coming back to Kilgrave, Jessica shook her head.

“You don’t know me. You never did, you never will. And you will never touch me or anyone else again.”

Kilgrave flinched, knowing what was coming even before she knocked him out in one blow. She had considered making it a killing one, but at the last second, although she couldn’t explain to herself why, she drew it back, just enough to save his life. Trish, still holding his now limp body gingerly and with disgust, looked up at Jessica, eyes serious.

“Jess, there’s less than two minutes left of the Raft being above surface, we have to get him in there, fast!”

Jessica had barely registered the Raft rising above the water, able to be accessed. She certainly hadn’t been keeping track of time. She would have been impressed by Trish’s ability to track time while simultaneously battling a psychopath, but there were more important matters at hand.

“Then give him to me,” she ground out, already mentally accepting her inability to see Phillip. “I’ve got this.”

She snatched him from Trish, jumping from where she stood the forty feet or so distance to the Raft’s surface with Kilgrave slung over her shoulder like a potato sack. The guards, standing ready to confirm her identity and purpose for her admission, seemed unfazed as she shoved him at them.

“This is Kilgrave, the one you had to get the shots for. Newest prisoner. Don’t know or care what proper protocol for admission is, he needs to be in here. Now, and forever. Don’t trust him, and don’t fuck this up. Someone will call you later if you need.”

Abruptly she leapt back onto shore, just in time to see the stoic guards putting obviously specialized cuffs on his wrists and punching in codes to take him inside. As the Raft began to descend beneath the water’s surface once more, Jessica let her shoulders sag, her heartbeat finally beginning to slow. She could see Trish checking the children’s vitals from the corner of her eyes, making sure they were all stable, but just for the moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself breathe.

It was over, again. At least for now.

Taking out her phone, she texted Luke. “Out of Raft. Not that I went in. Kilgrave showed. He’s their newest prisoner now.”

#jessica jones #jessica jones roleplay #luke cage roleplay #luke cage #trish walker #trish walker roleplay #kilgrave #kilgrave roleplay

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weshallc · 4 years ago

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Bonfire Night.

The Crown fanbase is a small but extremely loyal and lovely bunch and I just hope they like this chapter. If not see @roguesnitch she loved it and made me do it!

A Call the Midwife fanfic. A Crown Jewels Story.

CHAPTER TWO: STRANDS OF LIGHT.

Breathing out as he is breathing in. Amoureuse by Kiki Dee.

Bernie knew from the amount of light seeping through the bedroom curtains that it was after six. British Summer Time had ended over a week ago, and Bernie preferred the lighter mornings. It was easier to leave the warm duvet behind. It was less easy to untangle herself from Paddy’s arms and legs; it convinced her he grew extra limbs overnight.

Once free, she grabbed her phone from her bedside cabinet and checked the time. She had guessed about right. No messages that was good, so far no-one had rung in sick. If it stayed that way, today would remain an office day. She referred to it as an office day, even though she didn’t have an office. During lockdown she had sat in the empty bar and organised rotas, waded through accounts, sent out bills and reminders. She spent hours ploughing through constant changes in government guidelines and adjusting protocol as required.

Bernie had taken over most of the managerial and clerical side of Crane Carers. that didn’t mean Phyllis could retire and move to the South of France, not just because of Brexit. Bernie knew it secretly pleased Phyllis every time she rang her apologetically, asking if she could cover a shift while they awaited a carer’s test result. She had also been relieved when Paddy had phoned Phyllis to tell her Bernie was in tears struggling to source adequate PPE and arrange Covid tests for staff and clients. Phyllis had buckled her matron’s solid silver belt and used her influence and contacts to galvanise the Tweaven care community into a force the local MP had to reckon with.

A more dynamic response had come from closer to home. Initially Bobby from St Presuvus, organized the church craft group into making masks. Patsy Mount and Trixie designed scrubs that were much easier to wear and wash than the official care uniform, however Phyllis preferred to wear her old uniform. Lucille had convinced her that the scrubs were more practical and much more comfortable during the hot spell that even scorched the North-East.

The real hero had been Bobby’s husband, Tom the youth minister had convinced Reverend Julia to buy a 3D printer, he launched a Just Giving page for raw materials and his youth group set about making visors and goggles. Tim had commandeered all the PPE he could find from his college, Bernie was sure he had asked first. But if she was completely honest she didn’t care, her need was greater than the abandoned science lab.

The aging central heating system followed Bernie into action with a lot less consideration for the morning hush. Tim and Paddy were immune to its attention seeking rasps and clunks, Bernie still found it annoying. As long as the towel rail in the bathroom was lukewarm by the time she had finished her shower she would forgive its belligerence. She noticed the toilet seat was up again and felt a pang of guilt as she slammed it down. After all, she was the guest.

She didn’t feel like a guest though; she felt like she belonged. This ridiculous drafty old pub felt like home now. Bernie looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She knew it was her; it looked like her, but so much had changed over the spring and summer.

She was not the young woman who had giggled through the Crown’s Burns Night in January, who had blushed seeing Paddy looking awkward in a kilt. Paddy was no longer that Paddy, none of them were. She saw it in all her friends. They were all changed, they all seemed older, much wiser, more vulnerable, angrier definitely and more certain they were loved, that they mattered to someone, to each other.

She had once wondered if she belonged in Poplar, at the Crown, with Paddy and Tim. Bernie scoffed at those days of self absorbed indulgent idealism. She knew now she would do anything to keep her home, her family, her friends safe. It had been a hard lesson to learn, but she was now completely certain where she belonged.

Had Paddy asked her to move into the Crown when lockdown was announced in March, or was it her that suggested it? She had no recollection it had just been understood, not just between them, but by Tim too. It was within that same silent understanding, that first night, Bernie had realized the last thing God would be bothered about was that Bernie had finally let her body be worshipped without the correct paperwork.

The towel wasn’t frozen solid, and she was able to wrap it around her. She would take that as a win. The electric shower had put two fingers up to the antique gas central heating and done the trick as a flushed Bernie tiptoed back to the bedroom. Paddy was still sound; she perched herself on the spare bit of mattress next to his hip.

The curtains were thin and let in the rising sun. Poplar’s lack of street lighting must have influenced Marianne’s choice of window furnishing, Bernie thought. She then remembered Mazz was a bit of a hippy chick and probably wanted to see the moon. Bernie wished she could always see Paddy’s face at sunrise. His forehead wrinkle free, his jaw relaxed, just a few faint laugh lines around his mouth. The dark outbreak of stubble had emerged, and she now found it not so daunting. She was now practiced in knowing just how to move her skin against his so it didn’t injure, but excite.

The smoothness of his eyelids hid the worry in his eyes that he tried to hide every day from her and Tim. She wasn’t fooled, and she believed neither was his son, but they played along all the same. His lips fluttered as a gasp of warm air escaped them, Bernie caught a sense of it and it reminded her of his kiss. She hadn’t wanted to wake him. Today was going to be a big day, a tough day, but once she had taken in his breath, the scent of him, she had to return the kiss.

#call the midwife #the crown jewels #paddy and bernie #you guys are the best

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marvelbbyx · 4 years ago

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And they were roommates! (College AU: Mason Weaver x Fem! Reader)

Summary:

You discovered that you liked girls when you were very young, knowing how others would react, you kept it a secret from your loved ones. Hiding from it well into your adult years.

Starting college, you expected yourself to keep your head down, get good grades, and stay out of everyone’s way. That is until you were roomed with Mason Weaver, a bold and intrepid individual that surprised you the moment you laid eyes on her. Certain feelings arising between the two of you, in order to try and put a stop to it, you distance yourself from Mason.

Until she realizes what’s going on and urges you to tell her how you feel.

Author’s Note: This is for the @versdan writing challenge! I chose Mason Weaver for this because there is a lack of Mason Weaver FICS on this platform. But if you’d like me to write more I will! Enjoy! ☺️

This fic is also based in the ’60s.

Prompt:

“I don’t get why you can’t tell me how you truly feel.”

Song featured: Leavin’ On Your Mind- Patsy Cline

Warnings! A little lengthy but that’s it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday

August 8th, 1965

You set down your last box in the corner of your side of the dorm before plopping yourself down face first on your new bed. Your arms were sore and worn out from carrying all of your stuff up and down the stairs, thankfully you were finished now and could rest a bit before you unpack everything.

You were mainly excited to unpack your record player, a powder blue 1964 Dansette Tempo—with four speeds. After begging for one for years, your parents got it for you as a graduation gift. Eventually starting your horde of record albums. Your favorites were: Doris Day’s Day by Night—Connie Francis’s Who’s Sorry Now?—and Patsy Cline’s single Leavin’ On Your Mind.

Besides your impressive collection of records, you also own a vast majority of books. Books have kept you company since you were very small. When you hit the age of twelve, everything seemed to have made sense quicker than you realized, beginning to show more romantic feelings towards your childhood friend, Caroline.

As you were moving stuff into your room, you couldn’t help but hear whispers and murmurs as you walked. The paranoid side of you thought that they were about you, but you knew that you were just overthinking it. Even if they did know about you, the comments would be just as hurtful. But you couldn’t do anything about it nor wanted to. That would cause more problems on your part, especially if it got one of the deans involved. So you decided that it was best to keep to yourself and not stir up any trouble for you or anyone.

Your head perks up when you hear the doorknob turning, automatically; you surmise that it’s your new roommate and await the worst. You see a girl walk through the door carrying a large box, wearing high-waisted denim jeans and a button-up red flannel shirt. Her hair cascades down her shoulders in long dark blonde waves.

She shuts the door behind her, her hazel eyes darting up to look at you. “Oh wow, I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here. Were you sleeping?”

You shook your head vigorously. “N-No, I was just resting. My arms are tired.” You say meekly.

She breathes out a laugh, making your heart flutter inside your chest.

“I’m Mason, Mason Weaver.” She extended a free hand towards you, keeping the box close to her chest with the other. You were rooted to your spot, unable to stand or reach your arm out to hers. Even if you did you’d probably melt all over the floor.

Mason’s eyes scan you up and down curiously, “Ya know when someone introduces themselves it’s common courtesy to do the same.”

“Y/N...Y/N L/N.” You say quietly, sitting up and lifting your hand to shake hers.

“Oh, she does have a name,” The blonde jokes with a grin. You nearly turn red at her words, the cool drawl in her voice causing your stomach to do somersaults.

Mason turns her back to you and sets her box down on the bed opposite to yours. Sitting down next to it and kicking off her boots, you tried your best not to stare at her but something about her held your gaze. You felt warm, you wanted to think because of how hot it was outside, but you knew it was because of her.

You saw her start to unpack her box, the contents inside weren’t exactly what you had expected to be inside. You anticipated something like toiletries or old books. Instead, she took out 35mm film rolls and a Canon Demi.

“You take pictures?” You ask softly.

You see her nod. “Yeah, I’m majoring in photography, so I have to take a lot of pictures. What’s yours?”

“Biochemistry.” You reply ducking your head down. “It sounds lame compared to yours.”

Mason shook her head. “Not at all. It’s different, I like different.” She beams over at you.

The overwhelming heat now scorched your face, you felt faint and light-headed. You needed to leave as soon as possible or else you’d pass out right then and there. You quickly rose to your feet, the dizzy feeling only intensifying. “I’m-I’m gonna go check out the library.”

“Oh, o-okay.” She gives you a small wave as you dashed out the door, beating yourself mentally for acting a fool in front of her.

You could only imagine how tomorrow would play out...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday

August 9th, 1965

You were the first one to wake up the following morning, it was surprising that you didn’t wake up Mason with all of the noise that you were making. You raced out the door before she could wake up and greet you. You had three classes today, the first two blowing by fast. You couldn’t wait to be done for the day. That way you could go back to the dorm to listen to your records and unpack everything.

Upon arriving to one of them, you were asked to sit in the front row, your professor claimed that it would make an example of yourself to the students in the back. Instead, the front happened to be an ideal shooting range for paper hornets from the two boys sitting behind you.

A few hit the back of your neck as you were taking notes.

You were now seated at one of the far lunch tables on the outside of the cafeteria, reading your textbook for your next class, Math. You stopped once you heard someone sit down next to you, lifting your head up slowly to see Mason sitting across from you.

“Hey roomie,” She breathes, giving you a soft smile.

“Oh, hi.” You say softly, looking back down at your book to mask your now flushing face.

Mason wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, emitting another sigh, “God, I’m beat, I can’t wait to head back to the dorm and rest a bit after this next class.”

You hummed in response, flipping onto the next page of your textbook.

“So...how was the library yesterday? I assume it was good since you were gone all day, and you left so fast this morning I didn’t even get to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” You murmured.

She waves a dismissive hand. “I had to get up early anyway, the best pictures are at sunrise and sunset.”

You lifted your eyes from your book once more. “Because of the lighting?”

“That and the colors in the sky are absolutely gorgeous.”

There was sunshine in her smile and her eyes. The brown orbs showing a glimpse of her soul when she smiled, the honeyed hues twinkling in the sun like a rich topaz. They were safe and welcoming, perhaps that was the best way to describe them. And though you never saw them yourself, you could assume that Mason’s pictures were damn near incomparable to her.

But what had confused you was the fact that someone as pretty as her was carrying a conversation with you. Though you hardly exchanged any words back—she still talked to you. You wondered if she knew about you, maybe she didn’t. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care. Or maybe she did and she was just being nice to you out of sympathy. Whatever it was—it had started to scare you.

“My next class is two hours long,” Mason comments as she takes out the list of her classes. “College Mathematics with Dr. Mayfield.”

“I have that class too.” You managed to speak out.

A grin plays on Mason’s lips. “Really? Well, this day just keeps getting better. I’m glad I’m not going in blind.” She stands up from the table, your eyes following her form. “I finally have a walking buddy.”

“You wanna walk...with me?” You questioned innocently.

“Yeah, is there something wrong with that?”

“I-I don’t know. I just—“

“Come on.”

Mason takes your hand, pulling you out from the seat. You quickly collect all of your stuff before walking with her—your hand still in hers. Butterflies fluttered within your stomach, no—all over your body. To your surprise, you were shocked that she couldn’t feel your pulse racing while your hand was clasped on hers.

Even when you two were inside of the building she still held your hand, earning disapproving looks from students as well as some teachers in the hallways. But Mason didn’t seem to care about that. She appeared to not care about a lot of things.

~~~~~~~~

The second the two of walked into your dorm room, you dashed over your box full of records. Forgoing your backpack and all of the contents inside. Mason gave you a quizzical look until she saw what you had pulled out from behind your bed.

“Is that a record player?” She asks.

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah, my parents got it for me when I graduated high school. I’ve been dying to listen to it all day.”

You took out the powder blue chest and set it up on your bed, then you took the Patsy Cline record and gently placed it over the spindle, you then turned the power knob until you heard it click, after that you adjusted the tone arm, setting it down on the record as it spun around. Soon the music began to play and Patsy Cline’s beautiful voice filled the dorm.

If you got leavin' on your mind

Tell me now, get it over

Hurt me now, get it over

If you got leavin' on your mind

“You like this song too?” Mason asked excitedly.

Your eyes lit up, “Yes!”

“Not a lot of people do,” Mason chirps. “But I’m glad you at least have taste.”

You blush. “I have more, if you wanna listen to them.”

“Do you have The Beatles?”

You bit your lip and nod. “Mm-hm,”

If there's a new love in your heart

Tell me now, get it over

Hurt me now, get it over

If there's a new love in your heart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a few weeks now, and since that day you and Mason have gotten closer than ever. Everyday after your classes you would head back to the dorm and listen to your records, dancing in your room and failing your arms around like no one was watching.

In that time you now realized that you had fallen for Mason, and hard. Everything that she did had sent your heart in a frenzy, you were drowning and sinking deeper by the second. But you didn’t know if she felt the same and it pained you everyday. One day after Mayfield’s, you saw her talking with a guy, you thought nothing of it until she gave him a hug. Not a buddy hug either, a good hug. A hug that you desperately wanted to receive from her. Which hurt even more.

Since then, you decided to distance yourself from her, exchanging only a few words such as: ‘Hi’ and ‘Bye’. Keeping to yourself from the time you woke up to the time you went to bed. Mason had tried to talk with you as you were doing homework or studying, but you had just given her the cold shoulder. Ignoring whatever she tried to say.

And that made her angry.

You didn’t want to ignore her, in fact, you wanted the opposite. You wanted nothing more than to talk to her all day long, basking in each other’s presence, and to press a light kiss to her lips without a care in the world. But that guy—that guy you saw hugging her. Hugging the girl you loved. Killed you inside.

~~~~~~~~

Monday

August 23rd, 1965

You had been in the library for two hours now, you weren’t studying or anything, you just wanted to pass the time until Mason went to sleep. She had to wake up early tomorrow to develop her photos. So you decided to stay a little longer until the library closed, then you would head back to your room and go to sleep, doing the same thing tomorrow morning.

You felt guilty. Guiltier than normal. It started to make you sick, your stomach bubbling up with bile. Why was it so hard to talk to her? Why was it so hard to take away this pain? Distancing yourself keeps you from getting hurt, right? If so, then why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t anything working? It hurt so much and you could only imagine the way Mason was feeling right now.

With that, you decided to leave the library and head back to your dorm. To your surprise Mason was waiting up for you, sitting at the edge of her bed, Leavin’ On Your Mind playing in the background. She looked like she had been crying, swollen eyes an irritated shade of red, crinkling slightly as she managed a weak smile for you.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” You say.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, making way to your bed.

Don't leave me here, in a world

Filled with dreams that might have been

Hurt me now, get it over

I may learn to love again

Your hands patted a rhythm on your knees, as you awaited what Mason was going to say. You heard your heart thudding loudly in your ears, a thick gob of spit in the pit of your throat made it hard to swallow. Please...say something. You thought.

“Did I do something wrong?” Mason asks hoarsely. “If so, can you tell me?”

“You didn’t.” You mutter.

“Then why are you ignoring me? I must’ve done something if you’re not talking to me anymore.” Tears streamed down from her eyes. “Y/N, can you please tell me?”

You shook your head. “If I do then we won’t be friends anymore.”

Mason sprung off the bed and onto her feet, “You’re acting like we’re not friends now!” She boomed. “You’re my only friend here, and you’re treating me like I did something wrong. Like I’ve offended you in some way. Why?”

“Because...” You trailed off.

“Because what, Y/N?” Mason cried. “I don’t get why you can’t tell me how you truly feel!”

“Because I love you!” You shout at her, warm tears spilling down your face. “For so long I had to hide myself because I was afraid of getting hurt by somebody I loved. You brought out those feelings—Mason—feelings of complete and utter happiness. I never wanted to be around someone more than I want to be around you...and I’m so sorry I did that to you. But I know you don’t love me, so that’s why I stayed away from you!”

If there's a new love in your heart

Tell me now, get it over

Hurt me now, get it over

If there's a new love in your heart

“Did you think that that would work?” Mason questions harshly. “That ignoring me for a long time would help you?”

“But I saw you with that guy the other day. I assumed that he was your boyfriend and I just—it hurt so much watching that. So much that I couldn’t bear to be around you anymore.” You explained with a sob.

“Boyfriend? No, he’s one of my classmates from photography! He found my camera in the darkroom after I left it there accidentally.” She tells you. “And he’s not important to me because it’s you that I want!” You felt Mason’s hands cup both of your cheeks, inching her face closer to you. “It’s always been you. From the very beginning.“

The next thing you knew, her mouth was pressed firmly against yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs and making you lose balance. It was the most incredible feeling you had ever known.

So you kissed her back, desperate and eager, your hands finding their way around her neck and into her beautiful hair. Mason’s hands fell to your waist pulling you in closer. You eventually pull away from each other, your chests rising and falling fast as your struggles to catch your breath.

A blush crept over your cheeks. “So...does that mean you love me too?”

Mason laughs and nods. “Yes, Y/N. I do love you too.” She wipes your tears with the pads of her thumbs before kissing you again, the kiss soft and syrupy this time.

Hurt me now, get it over

If there's a new love in your heart

#versdan800wc #mason weaver imagine #mason weaver x reader #mason weaver #mason weaver imagines #kong skull island #kong skull island imagine #brie larson

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 4 years ago

Text

Harvest Moon, pt. 5

Steve Rogers x Reader, Summer AU

A/N: Every chapter will have a designated song to it, so please take a listen! Will be linked below. I don’t own any Marvel characters.

Summary: For five summers, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and you had been a trio; spending the summer at a lake with your families. While Bucky tagged along, there had always been a special bond between Steve and you. Every summer the lake had been something to look forward to until you stopped going and life moved on. Now as adults, Steve and you return at the same time, for different reasons. Can you rekindle that friendship or was it just youthful summer magic?

Masterlist

Chapter Five: (They Long to Be) Close to You

The bar was exactly how he pictured it would be years ago when he was 13, but what took him by surprise was Patsy Cline crooning from the jukebox – it was making him feel as though he was a kid again, walking by this place with Bucky and you; the three of you always trying to sneak a peek in. Or at least that’s what he was telling himself – the truth was, that song always reminded him of you. It was the same song you had made him listen to a long time ago, declaring it was your future heartache song. The song had embedded itself into Steve’s memories and he often found himself seeking it out in the most tiring times in his life – like after his first real break up and his mother’s funeral.

Bucky was saying something as they walked toward the counter, but Steve’s eyes wondered to the only other patron. It was the woman who walked by the cabin earlier, he recognized you and gave a quick smile in your direction before following Bucky to the bar. The two ordered drinks and decided to play a few rounds of pool, but every so often Steve’s attention would go back to you sitting alone. After the second round, he couldn’t help but say something.

“That’s the woman from earlier, the one you said hello to.”

Bucky glanced up from his shot. “She’s here alone?”

“Seems like it,” Steve said, noticing that you were getting up from the booth. It was abundantly clear how inebriated you were by the way you struggled to stand still as you flung your bag over your shoulder. He watched with concern as you slapped a few bills onto the table and started toward the door, holding onto the tables and chairs as you made your way out. “She’s fucking smashed.”

“It would be weird for a pair of dudes to go after her, huh?”

Steve understood Bucky’s hesitation, it would look a little unseemly if they went after her, even walked her back to her cabin but the good intention was all there too. He looked to his friend who seemed to come to the same conclusion and nodded for him to go ahead. “I’ll buy out the tab and catch up.”

Leaving the pool table, Steve rushed out the bar and looked to his left and then to the right, where he saw you two stores door walking into the ice cream shop. He walked calmly passed the late evening crowd, a few families getting dinner in town, and came to the shop. Staring inside, he saw you talking to the woman behind the counter, you seemed agitated and the woman looked a little nervous. Throwing the little cautious he had left to the wind, Steve walked inside.

…

“You don’t understand, I need to see those photos, please.”

“Lady, like I said earlier, I don’t have access to them.”

Not even 24 hours had passed since your arrival and you officially had hit the lowest of the low – accosting a waitress over some photos…but it wasn’t just some photos, it was a specific photo. Tears welled in your eyes as you explained again, in your drunken slur, that you just needed one picture.

“I just need one picture, please. I can look for it, I promise I won’t cause any trouble. ” you cried out, fully aware of the audience surrounding you – the place was packed and even though the Carpenters was playing loudly in the background, everything seemed so quiet. The pain in your voice was evident and the waitress had a look of empathy in her eyes, but it wasn’t enough.

“I just need my picture back! I just need it back, it’s the last time we were happy! Please,” you yelled, slamming both hands on the counter. The woman flinched and reached for her cellphone, but then someone said something behind you.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, she’s clearly had a little too much to drink next door.”

Lifting your hands off the counter, you turned to see the blond man from the bar; there was something so familiar about him – his eyes, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. It might have also been the fact that the room was suddenly spinning. He asked if you were okay and if you remembered him from the cabin.

“My friend and I were sitting out when you walked by, we were also in the bar…”

“I just want my picture back…. that’s all,” you said, jaw unclenching as you turned back to the waitress. Shame was written all over your face as you quietly apologized and brushed passed the man to leave the shop. Outside, your emotions got the best of you and you began to cry – you felt like a child who had gotten separate from her family, lost in a crowd of strangers. Tears fell down your face and you stumbled over to a light post, holding on to it with one hand. It was getting dark; people were walking around. You wanted to feel embarrassed, but you had nothing left inside you, it had been that way for a while. Nothing made you happy, mostly you were just sad. Friends stopped calling to go out, work became mundane, even your own mother kept her distance – it was true, evident now, as you stood alone in a crowd of happy souls, drunk and emotionally gutted; you were a half empty girl.

“Miss, you okay?”

You looked up from the ground and wondered how drunk you were, because the face in front of you seemed to morph into someone you used to know – which would seemed absurd considering the man talking to you was about your age and the man you remembered would be much older today.

“Mr. Barnes?”

It was uncanny how much this man looked like Bucky’s dad, except this guy had much longer hair. In fact, you were sure he was one of the guys from the bar – god, everything was such a blur.

“Excuse me?”

You felt stupid and quickly apologized. “Sorry, I’ve had too much to drink and obviously living my best life. I…better go.”

“No, don’t go,” he said, holding back a smile. “You called me Mr. Barnes, no one calls me that. That’s mostly reserved for the old man.”

Your heart raced as you really looked at the guy in front of you and it seemed to sober you right up – this wasn’t Mr. Barnes but it was someone you hadn’t seen in nearly 15 years. It was so surreal to be standing in front of the ice cream shop with Bucky, two full fledge adults.

“Bucky?”

His face softened and he shook his head with a huge smile. “What are the odds, huh?”

Unable to hold back, you laughed and when he reached out for a hug, you held him tight. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this.”

It was strange because the last time you saw him, he was fifteen – you were fifteen. You gasped at the thought, as he pulled away, and before you could ask about Steve, Bucky spoke to someone behind you.

“Punk, you won’t believe who the drunk chick is.”

Turning your back to Bucky, you found yourself staring into the eyes of the man from inside the ice cream shop, the one in the bar that smiled at you and you knew then why you had felt at ease with him.

Your looked at him, nerves building up in the pit of your stomach so badly you would have thought you were having an anxiety attack. His blue eyes went wide as he too realized what was going on and as he stepped forward toward you, your voice cracked as you spoke his name. “Steve?”

.....

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#harvest moon series #marvel au #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes #Marvel Comics #marvel imagine #ivonnes imagine

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