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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 1 year ago

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So I edited some of the Lost In The Book With Stitch event with some headcanons

I always headcanon Riddle being ftm transgender-nonbinary (he/they) and while his mother sucks and doesn't support she allowed him take top surgery just didn't give him the emotional support afterwards in a way of "If you're enough to make big decisions in your body than you're old enough to not ask for mummy's cuddles" kind of way

This event helped him the most finally find peace with himself, yeah he felt comfortable with himself after the surgery but for some reason he felt more free here with these people he wouldn't be on a vacation with in the start with this odd fluffy creature

I have a headcanon he has a tooth gap still growing from Ace's punch in chapter 1 that he secretly likes

He started collecting sea shells after this

Lots of freckles

Kind of realizes his crush on this trip, he had it for a while obviously but this made him realize "Oh shit-"

My sister says she can see Riddle's whole reaction to his crush on Floyd like Moana's poll to the ocean and I can see it

Ftm transgender (I grew with that headcanon) and got his top surgery right before attending Night Raven Collage

Lots of freckles

Kind of wishes he stayed just cause he adored the feeling of being there so much

Knows now he would be a good dad

After this his mood with his friends became different, he became more chill and nicer to those he isn't too, even Riddle after they kind of talked things over by the water

Has lots of scars over the years

Thanks to the Twitter @gay-salt-amber showed me, he had piercings and tattoos he hid for the sake of being a father and student, biggest tattoo is on the back of his thigh that was made in honor of one of the solders in his old Army who died

Nonbinary gremline

Sung with the ukulele during a beach campfire

He feels like he gets Stitch the most out of the whole cast

Vows to hopefully bring Silver and everyone else there

Lowkey wants more kids

Literally almost cried when leaving

I always think the Octa-Trio get some traces of their merform, so the Leech twins has a teal-greenish undertone under their skin when that becomes visible when exposed to water and if you look closely their toes get webby kind of

LOTS OF FRECKLES

Has a tongue piercing he sometimes takes out

Had the most fun being in his dream element, especially when Azul and Riddle there!

So I know I didn't edit their cards cause they honestly didn't strike editing art on them but I'll add Jack and Azul!

Really enjoyed the sudden change of pace and weather

Didn't like the beach life at first cause the salt water was knotting his furr and the sand did not help the idea, but he quickly grew adapting the idea of it and even enjoyed the knots and combing them out

After this he set up a vacation to the beach with his siblings

Fell in love with the scent of the beach

Was super self conscious about taking his shirt and being in the water and wouldn't have done either if it weren't for Floyd threatening to throw him into the ocean and Grim's teasing

Calmed down after a while and relaxed enough to just enjoy everything

Let his merform out during the night when it's too dark to see when Floyd joined in, did the same, and Riddle joined it but wasn't scared which amazed and calmed him more

Got inspired for profit but just inspired in general as he spend those days enjoying everything all together, swimming in the water, eating food, running and rolling in the sand

He also has freckles but they're small and light

Because of his bright mood after he was extra nice which freaked people out

He surprised the Leech twins with a dish of their favorite foods but didn't tell them how he managed to cook that stuff being he's, well, a octopus merman

Doesn't believe in gender but doesn't want to think about his own

Lowkey wants kids now

They all got closer after the whole thing

They all shared things of their pasts, with choices of being vague to some parts and areas for obvious reasons on Azul's and Lilia's part

As soon as Yuu mentioned a store that sold Stitch plushes, they got one right away

Lots of lowkey romantic tensions for whoever you want to say, Riddle x Floyd, your favorite ship, any of the cast with Yuu/You

They visit the Mostro Lounge every time they have free time or after a dorm head meeting, bring along people from their dorms as well

And in tradition of every Twst event so far, there's a playlist I made

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kiwisa · 2 years ago

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expect a few changes around the paddock... ! 🏎️

━━━━━ i'm not going to lie, the "anons" episode hit a nerve and it made me question myself and my blog. if introspection is inevitable, i wish it could have been done under different conditions. but since what is done is done, we must look to the future.

many changes⏤theme included⏤are to take place on this blog, starting with the rhythm of publication. i will no longer publish several times a week, for obvious reasons of fatigue and mental health, but also to secure the quality of my work: i don't want to neglect it, as i have started to do by trying to publish at least once a week.

instead, i'm breaking away from a set schedule. i want to avoid this blog becoming a burden rather than an escape. so, i'll post when the mood and inspiration strike me. from now on, expect some inconsistency in my posting schedule. i may be repeating myself but i want to insist on this point: this is so that you can read better work.

in the same logic, my writing list has been shortened.

i won't be writing for toto, despite what i said. all the requests i've received about him are mostly focused on an important age gap. i have tried to write them, but i can't. i don't feel comfortable doing it. i have this mental block with him that i didn't know existed. also, i will not write for carlos. no request was made for him so this doesn't affect you directly.

furthermore, i won't be accepting any more football requests, and will only write about kylian and jude when the inspiration comes. i'm already "stressed out" by your requests about drivers, let's not add two footballers to the mix.

as for the "survivors"…

the harpy has been put on hold: not because i don't want to write it anymore but precisely to take the time to write the chapters. expect the same logic for the drivers.

overall, i will be less active here. despite those who would like to deny it (lol), @sileaz does exist and it is on this account that i most thrive on writing: fantasy is, in my opinion, my greatest asset and literary pleasure. i'm going to turn to that as a priority for a while.

that's why there will be a lot more social media than one-shots posted here in the near future. even if they take me several hours, it's still less time than a full-fledged fanfiction…

that's about it? (she says after writing the equivalent of a novel…) maybe i'm forgetting things. if so, i'll let you know.

of course, if you have any questions or opinions about these changes, don't hesitate to tell me. this blog is not only a safe place for me, it is also one for some of you. let's change things without turning everything upside down for all that.

lots of love ! ❤️🌈

✩ elisa

( P.S. ) concerning the "anon case" and the asks that followed: i decided not to reply to your asks because i want to move on. however, know that i appreciate you reaching out to me. your kind words helped soften the blow !! thank you so much. i couldn't ask for better followers 🥹

#please read

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hospitalterrorizer · 3 months ago

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diary340

8/25-26/24

sunday-monday

i watched the passion of joan of arc today.

incredible film, one of the best ever, every shot is incredibly pretty, it feels rather soviet-inspired in a way, at least from what i know, a lot of the editing and montage stuff, the extreme closeups. god, it moves like little else, and it's really what i'm interested in seeing with these silent films, where it really gets at a more out there notion of grammar/narrative arrangement, a lot of them do give me that because they're so distant but there is a way they make sense as well, this feels shocking still, the scene where she bleeds, both in its place among images, and as image, the way the shots of her face, her expressions, and the performance on display too, no other performance like it on earth, they all add up and you cannot prevent yourself from crying as she does, and when she's on the scaffold we really are the carnival, the crowd, we are there knowing her to be sainted and condemned by the hierarchy of the church, of faith which seeks symbols that can be made sense of, the cold logic, and then the heat of believing, or maybe most root, of affirming life, the passion. so often she says "oui", and that ending, i can't believe the explosion of the people, the violence, the soldiers beating people, how it's as much an explosion within the film's way of operating. it's so much. of course, the presence of artaud in the film as an actor, seeing him realize what has happened, his gentler style of asking her why, what these things mean, his face upon realizing what has happened and that failure, his face, my god, maybe him being really beautiful helps this along but he made me cry and feel as much as she did, maybe with the force of his work behind him, god. and the sets in the film, i want to read up on how it was made and things, becuz i wonder if it's pointedly not trying to draw attention to those places, to have them be white negative spaces with odd shadows, an almost more expressionist approach with some of the shots... i dunno... a lot to think about with this film, it's just massively important... it's so beautiful... it's achingly beautiful, truly truly achingly beautiful.

any more thoughts on dennis cooper's new book?... not particularly... wish i wuz smarter. well here's a quotation i marked when i finished up the book, that i neglected to post (this is how it appears in the book sans caps):

" 'forgot about world existing around you. you can change yourself into infinity, but still get the changes to the location from where you left. may i know who you are and where do you live?' there is no real description on whats going through my head at the moment. all i can say, someone will get hurt."

writing it out, what's striking me now is that he uses this kind of broken person freaked out online type writing as well as extremely, pointedly, literary, ways of speaking which draw attention to the gaps in what they can express, it feels especially the focus of the internet people ones that he's trying to get at this blanchot type thing, the failure of thought, the impossibility of constancy, of any 'self', these people even when stuck place, doing single things, feeling terrible and lost, well they are lost, impossible to find in the first place. it's odd. there's no beginning with some of these characters, they are not, they just do, but their relation to themselves and even their actions is pretty, well, they're alien to it, that they exist, they could not smell themselves, ghosts of their own lives. which is less about some emotional thing, some tragedy of that, everything is imbued with tragic character here so it's not special in that way, it's more like, i don't want to say deep, maybe it's the opposite, it's not about it being sad or messed up that people feel that way, it's that they are that way, that there's this impossibility at all levels, where something strange gets admitted, which is why i marked that quotation, you can change yourself into infinity. who are you. where do you live. there is no description. it's not flowery for the sake of it, it is pointedly about dissolving any linear sense. i guess in a sense it's an effort at montage in text almost? it gives that feeling though it is quite contrary to montage in that it's not images cycling together to produce something else... it's admission that thoughts give up on themselves, that this is their own articulation, that moment to moment , us caught in the vicious circle, there's these shifts, inconstant hearts, and when caught up in atrocity... then what??? in the story gold, where a father fucks his kid, and it's revealed he was similarly fucked and was this popstar boy and how painful it is to not be what he was, that pain isn't like sharp, or dull even, it's diffuse it's just a lamentation that can't complete itself or know itself. it happens with the everything else, awfulness is partially an avalanche, as much as being someone who wants to die online, it's all this nightmare avalanche thing.

this is why he is such an excellent writer!!

and here's pics of me from the other day!!:

that bolero type thingy is super cute, imo... very striking and odd thing.

listening to this rn:

youtube

i have been rather into suzy sheer lately, a little undersung in the whole electroclash revival thang going on, i like how much they veer witch house w/ some of the stuff, though there's this song where they let the vocals be less ethereal and i really love it, i think it might be two people producing and then using sampled vox?? but i can't totally tell:

youtube

i think this song's genius... so it's like this, pg.99 and the locust lately.. +the death of anna karina. and other stuff. it's all kindsa junk. it's every junk... didn't read stricture today, and i should sleep soon but this blissed ep from suzy sheer i haven't heard yet so i'll just read a bit while listening still. 2nd song on it, days, has a cute disco bassline which i love 2 hear,,, i also love to do that in my songs.... swaeg. .. gonna read now then sleep... my gf has her first day teaching tomorrow... good luck teaching my best friend. reading now. #brb,.

new word to me: propaedeutic, a kind of preparatory study for something, introductory studies, introduction to things... but especially study i suppose.

only a few pages into stricture, i am liking it, it has a hurried quality that recalls how lispector can write. so far she is just imagining herself being abducted by aliens, in an orderly and pleasant way almost, convinced of them, packing for it, sitting and waiting, thinking about her routine and the escape from that. she is a child, now, i imagine she will stop being a child at some point.

i must sleep now,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#Youtube

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years ago

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Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

#andy dolan fanfiction #andy dolan fic #andy dolan x you #andy dolan x reader #andy dolan #eden fanfiction #eden #kristenwrites

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godkilller · 4 years ago

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WRITING SWORDFIGHTS

Roleplay Thread Tips - SWORD EDITION. Because you all voted for this and are enabling me.

If your character is actively using a battle-grade katana in actual combat, IT IS KENJUTSU. If your character is wielding a wooden sword, or bokken, and they’re studying or practicing the ways of swordsmanship via sport, it is KENDO. Think of Kenjutsu as the technique of swordsmanship, especially in battle, which includes outright the ability to kill an enemy. Kendo is an artful performance, an armored/padded and relatively safe competitive sport. Aim to be as respectful as possible when pertaining to the katana, this is a centuries-old weapon with deep cultural ties. As eloquently once put by a Space Wizard, a sword is “an elegant weapon” -- they’re not toys.

There are nine basic cuts in kenjutsu that all characters who wield a katana likely adhere to -- with or without outright training to do so. KESA GIRI: a diagonal strike across the shoulder starting at the right shoulder and down to the left hip. This is mirrored for the left shoulder down to the right hip. Alternatively, KIRIAGE: an upward cut from the right hip to the left shoulder, mirrored again for cuts made from the left hip to the right shoulder. MEN: a straight downward strike to the head and across the torso. KOTE: the cutting of the opponent’s wrist, duplicated for each one. DO: a horizontal cut across the abdomen, in either direction, but most often left-leading. These cuts are almost all fatal if wielded to be so, or lead to the forceful disarming of your opponent.

Katana are meant to cut, slice and otherwise take down their targets via a razor edge and a precise swing. If wielded improperly, they can utterly fail a cut to the point of damaging the katana, or rebounding sloppily.

You don’t need to get into specifics, like what exact angle a cut is being made, but most diagonal cuts are around 45 degrees, upward or downward strikes. If your character is slashing down at an opponent, they’re likely performing a diagonal cut at the shoulder to the opposite hip. Always think about where you’re positioning your character during attacks to be considerate to the fact that you may be leaving them wide open, and realistically unable to block or parry an attack made at that possible opening.

Writing a swordfight should contain skirmishes, not prolonged spats. Try to pace yourself out. A style choice I make when writing a sword fight is making the descriptions more ‘fast’ and concise during the actual attacks, keeping things simple so that the sentences are read at a faster rate which gives the illusion of quicker moments, then becoming more descriptive and lengthy, ‘slowed down’ during the moments following -- to signify that contemplation, the lull that happens like a tide to shore. In and out. This, also, makes it easier to feel out your fight’s pacing.

Speaking, earlier, of Star Wars... lightsaber battles showed us the beauty of kenjutsu-inspired combat with unnecessary and often fatal twirls and spins added in. Unless your character REALLY can move themselves and their blade FAST, any time they spin themselves during combat is a perfect opening for their opponent to strike their back, their sides, and really.. just about everything. Try not to spin around like a Beyblade. Twirling a sword can be strategic in making an opponent struggle in attempt to keep track of your blade, its range, and everything in between, but it also makes your character vulnerable. The more time spent with your cool color guard spinning, the less time you have to react and move your blade in a way to defend yourself.

Sometimes it’s the smaller strikes that matter more than the grand sweeping motions of a blade. Making your character constantly make big swings means they’re using way more energy behind each swing, and also causes momentum to work against them in some cases: the harder and bigger their swings, the longer it’ll take for their blade to come to a stop and then return to a position that can defend.

Swordfighting is all about footing and distance. Your character should be thinking about their reach, their range, in comparison to their opponent’s. If your character is skilled with a sword, they should never be caught vibing within arm’s reach of their opponent, because that’s well within the range of the other’s sword. THE SWORD BEING AN EXTENSION IS NOT A SAYING TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. This sword should feel like a part of the wielder, an addition, not a blunt object to flail around with. For reference: most katana-length swords have blades that are roughly three feet long. Factor that into your character's arm span. Range is everything, distance and gap-closing is everything.

A katana’s sheath is made from wood, and therefore cannot fend off a full-force swing from an attacking sword, which is sometimes shown in popular anime / manga as something that can be done. Maybe, yes, the first swing or two, it can be used to defend against. Sometimes a saya may be reinforced with iron or steel or even tempered clay. Those aren’t as common, or will be used almost exclusively for show, and will add weight -- which should be factored into the entire katana’s heaviness when settled at your character’s side. Wooden saya may expand and contract during humid and hot days as well as in the cold, or other weather conditions. Painted saya may eventually show cracks and other wear and tear on their decorations due to this. What does your character’s sword situation look like? Are they proper and polished, or does their weapon have blemishes?

On that topic: If your character returns their sword to its scabbard without cleaning off any blood or other fluids that touched it during battle then I am personally hunting you down. Blades, supernatural or otherwise, shouldn’t be sheathed when dirty. Especially if they’ve made contact with skin or made a full cut that spilled blood. THERE’S AN ENTIRE ART OF “RETURNING THE BLADE” AFTER MAKING A CUT, it’s specific in removing anything from the blade via wiping or ‘shaking the blood’ from it. Blades can become rusted or otherwise damaged if not cleaned, and sheathing a dirtied blade means that now the scabbard is caking that shit onto your blade. Both need cleaning, now, you absolute idiot. I’m crying. For reference: a single thumb print on a blade left uncleaned for a week can begin showing signs of rust due to the oils of your skin residing unhindered on the blade.

Swords aren’t featherlight. Over time, a character who regularly wields a sword should have weathered hands due to the weight and grip of holding their katana, specifically this should roughen their palms. Katana are meant to be wielded with TWO HANDS. The dominant hand rests closer to the guard, and the non-dominant hand resides lower, near the end of the hilt. The two-handed grip must be separated, but not too drastically, to offer a driving force to your swings.

Writing a swing is simple, but describing the speeds and aim can require a little bit more: the fastest series of cuts were made using BATTOJUTSU, or iaijutsu, the art of drawing the blade swiftly, for example. Cuts that land will face resistance, primarily muscle and bone if they’re deep, and only should cleave cleanly if your character has invested the arm strength and drive to slice through a person like so. What style of swordsmanship does your character use? There are many different ones.

Standard katana move slowly in comparison to tanto and wakizashi, shorter blades. This is in part due to being wielded with two hands as opposed to the short swords being single-handed, and also in part due to the katana weighing more and taking up more space whilst swung.

A sword should be worn at the hip, on the side that is opposite of your character’s dominant hand, because that’s how it’s drawn: using your character’s non-dominant hand to grip the scabbard whilst the dominant hand draws the blade. There are various artful and skillful ways, including deadly teachings specifically about unsheathing the blade, surrounding this pivotal moment. Your character can get a little fancy here, or they can stay simple.

Typically, a character should not draw their blade unless they are prepared to kill, or to defend themselves via the act of killing a threatening enemy -- the traditional meme of samurai contemplating Many a Thing before drawing their swords dramatically, in slow-mo or suddenly with great lagging pauses is kind of a play on the fact that this is no silly little feat. Even if your character is perceived as careless, reckless, they can still fit in that moment of contemplation, of focus. Is your character respectful to this concept, or do they not give a shit? It’s considered disrespectful, dishonorable, to conceal your blade and draw it without indication of wanting to attack.

Sometimes that moment before or during the draw is so LIGHTNING FAST, it can be easier to simply describe the sound of the draw rather than focus on writing the actual method of unsheathing a blade in your reply. NEVER FORGET SOUNDS when describing fights: breathing, the rustling of clothes, the ‘woosh’ of a blade being swung in full through the air, the scuffing, skidding, and sliding of feet across the ground. If your blade achieves your opponent, then the cutting of fabric, of skin, and even bone can be factored in. If you ever feel unsure of what to describe, visually, during a fight -- sometimes the sounds can save you.

Clashing blades, IF YOU MUST, shouldn’t ‘spark’ like sometimes shown in anime during heated moments of swords scraping against one another. These swords aren’t meant to smack into one another, they’re meant to cut, but if your character’s sword is supernatural / enhanced, then go for it. Swords should not obnoxiously and loudly clang together, they’re not heavy slabs of metal, they’re refined and folded steel meant to be narrow and thin for optimal cutting. There is some measure of recoil on impact, your character should be absorbing some of that blow whilst the blade gathers the rest. Yes, katana can wobble and bend when in combat, but they shouldn’t be excessively doing so. This isn’t fencing.

Stabbing is pretty fucking fatal. If your character gets slashed, there’s a chance the wound is relatively shallow -- yes, it’ll sting, it’ll hurt, it’ll bleed. But a stab from a katana will be a deep wound, and will most likely mean the full blade impaled you, meaning there will be an entry and an exit wound to freely bleed from. This also ups the chance that a vital has been struck.

It’s relatively uncommon to attack your opponent’s feet when in combat, but then again most swordfighting in anime isn’t standard. Not everyone plays by the rules -- does your character? Keep in mind that if your character wants to fight dirty and strike low, this may very well leave them wide open; low strikes imply your character is leaning over or crouching, with their blade lowered too, this can be a great time to strike for their head.

A decisive moment can be a single strike coming through and ending the battle, or it can be a numerous amount of smaller strikes slowly causing your opponent to tire and succumb. Don’t always assume your character can end a fight in a single strike: this takes immense strength and accuracy, most characters can and will go down swinging.

Katana aren’t small, consider this if a fight begins indoors. ASKING TO MOVE A FIGHT OUTSIDE ISN’T JUST FOR KICKS. Prepare to wreck walls, knock over furniture, and other obstacles to obstruct your katana from making wide proper strikes. Try swinging a broom in a hallway, it just doesn’t end well. Wakizashi are more suited for close-quarters and confined fighting, which is also why samurai would wear them in tandem with their main katana to avoid being vulnerable.

Katana, even when sheathed, can still be considered hindering in small spaces or when sitting. It’s commonplace to remove the stowed sword from the tie at one’s hip and place it at their non-dominant hand’s side when seated, especially if one is in the seiza position -- known as literally the ‘proper sitting’ position where one sits on their knees, their legs folded beneath them.

Just because an experienced sword-wielder is seated doesn’t mean they’re defenseless. In fact, there are many different cuts that can be made from a seated position which actually gain more power and momentum due to the added force of half-standing during the draw. Does your character do anything special to really enhance their speeds, their strikes? Gin hides his sword in his oversized clothes, particularly his sleeves, or will strike when in a noncombative stance.

IT’S COMMON TO USE CLOTHING TO OBSCURE FOOTING, in fact that’s the main function of the hakama, the flowing garment that resembles oversized pants. The skirt-like legs of the pants hide the more detailed positions of the legs, giving the appearance of stationary poses, or gliding movements, when more is going on underneath.

What steps does your character take in order to get a solid advantage in any given fight? Do they prefer upward strikes or downward, do they prefer striking left or right? Do they like getting all up in the other’s business or are they more of a touch and go type? Is this their first time not slicing at some soaked bamboo? Have they ever drawn a live sword at another person before? Think about all of these things.

Ultimately, as long as you’re being respectful, you can really have fun with it!

#[ roleplay resource ]#[ out of character ] masquerade; hide your face #i cannot be contained.#long post

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thecosmicsen · 4 years ago

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🎂 happy belated birthday month to fellow ghosty boy, aka the soft boy Jaewoo is stuck to in any AU, the one and only @phantombs ! 🎂

* : ✮ ┆ the one in which they both bond with the afterlife .

call it the synchronisation of two backgrounds harmonising that cultivated this very moment of Jaewoo enthusiastically bursting through Cường’s front door. the trust that Cường has in him to provide key access speaks volumes of unfathomable confidence despite the striking contrasts between what the two deem as amicable greetings. typically, Jaewoo is akin to a sudden blast of nippy wind that tends to slap someone across the face with its sharp stinging icy breeze whereas Cường is the type to snore through category five typhoons. this indisputable fact about the elder male is what provides Jaewoo with the brazen guts to invade his home so unabashedly since he knows that nothing will stir the unconscious figure. as according to plan.

detecting the lump in the midst of the blankets, Jaewoo now enters stealth mode as he navigates his way around the bedroom. setting down the canister of helium with a slightly louder thunk, he sucks in his cheeks in horror as he tersely waits to see if it elicits a stir or two out of Cường. it doesn’t. with a smug sense of achievement, he proceeds with the first step of filling up confetti-filled balloons so he can robustly tie them in batches of three with blue ribbons. what the true finishing touch is the polaroids of the abundant pictures he has taken of Cường over the span of time they have spent together. besides the absolutely candid shots varying from Cường overlooking the speckles of freshly budded cherry blossoms to him randomly snoozing in an upright position on the park bench, the polaroids consist of vintage filtered memory snapshots ranging from . . .

one. tiny coffee puddles lingering at the bottom of almost emptied mugs. licked up cupcake crumbs. overcast cherry blossom shadows merging with the tabletop. the lining of plush armchairs overlooking the open cafe balcony. pink-tinged cheeks from the open breeze. a slumped over snoozing figure, his mouth slightly agape as he snugly fits in the width of his chair. it’s ironic really, sleeping right after a caffeine dose ? classic Cường.

two. rain-streaked panels. the lazy streaks of dusk filtering through clearing horizons. idly bustling of Cường’s back faced to him as he gently rifles through his collection of mugs. thick woolly covered socks perched up together. a low hum of a cheery tune. the cheeky grin he flashes when Cường turns around with the familiar scolding look. “ you’re going to be chilled to the bone, wrap up the blanket tighter around yourself. ” the elder male warns him and he obliges.

three. dusted piano keys. a pair of hands gliding across the ivory. the other pair patiently listening, and listening, and listening. time stands still in the air, the concept being sapped away between the gaps of the keys as Cường plays the tunes of a piece so bittersweet. reminiscing curls his lips downwards until Cường gently grabs hold of his hand and gingerly swaps it with his own. “ learn to play with me, ” he jerks Jaewoo out of his transfixed spiralling stance that threatens to plunge him into a nostalgic dimension.

four. flash. flash. flash. another piercing flash. it washes him out, bringing out the sallow side of his physical manifestation. he’s suddenly very self-conscious. all he is doing is walking along the river, breeze tickling through his hair. the only person he notices is Cường with his mobile phone pointed in his direction. “ wait, I’m not ready for a picture. ” Jaewoo protests, immediately raising his hand up into a peace sign with a chirpy grin. Cường snaps a few more before shaking his head, a fond smile taking over. “ you silly boy, does the sun ever need to prepare its shining brightness ? nor do you. ”

five. buzzing electric hums crackle. indignant yells from preteens cause a crease between Cường’s brows. blaring beeps and glowing neon signs cram up any leftover space in the arcade. they promise many bountiful rewards. get your hands dirty, you might win an oversized stuffed narwhale. Jaewoo rubs his hands gleefully, akin to a persistent fly about to dig into a tasty feast. “ I know just the thing you need on the days you sleep for fourteen hours. ” pivoting to the flashiest claw machine with Line characters packed like sardines, he eagerly hunches over with his tongue sticking out in concentration. he will win this. inserting his leftover cash in enthusiastically, he aims the metallic grip of death to the nearest stuffed bunny. taking in a noisy deep inhale to quell his adrenaline, he jabs at the pretentiously gaudy red button for the claws to suffocate the bunny to victory. it works ! he didn’t expect it to in full honesty but now he can smugly brandish it to the amused male. “ let’s call him Lele. now you will never be alone. ”

. . . a shrill whistle sounds from Jaewoo as he clambers towards Cường’s bedroom window. a hoard of worn out older dogs struggle to float up to the window’s height. but with the aid of Jaewoo’s awaiting palms, they are safely directed into the warm haven of Cường’s birthday setup. what’s left is the lighting of candles and the birthday. the ghost had considered buying a massive rectangular cake to fit the few hundred candles on it but he reckoned that Cường wouldn’t be up for using all of his lung power on blowing out that many candles so he settled for placing fifty seven instead. not a jibe to the other’s age at all.

clapping his hands together, Jaewoo motions at the expectant dogs to go huddle up against the sleeping figure in bed. beyond eagerly, they all contentedly clamber besides Cường as they are familiar with the man and his previous visits to the shelter. the wholesome sight warms his heart and he hurriedly moves to snap a picture of the cosy sight before Cường can object. by the looks of it, he still hasn’t fully stirred from his slumber yet so Jaewoo takes the cue to finally begin the slow singing of the birthday cheer.

“ happy birthday to you, happy birthday Choi Cường, happy birthday to you. ” the dogs happily grumble along to Jaewoo’s trilling voice in an unique harmonisation to celebrate the cheer of Cường entering another year of life yet again.

Cường finally arises with groggy eyes, hair sticking out in random tufts and incomprehesible noises that only those fully acquainted with deep sleep can fathom. Jaewoo approaches him with his birthday cake, eyes glazed with delight.

“ make a wish ! ” Jaewoo shoves the cake in front of him and Cường indulges him by huffing out the candles in three goes before tugging him onto the pile of puppies on the bed. “ please don’t tell me you wished for more sleep. ”

alas, Cường has already fallen back into a half-drowsy state but it’s okay. the cake can wait.

* : ✮ ┆ the one in which they both bear the weight of the crown .

huff puff. huff puff. huff puff. look at what lengths the young prince goes to. it takes a lot of cautious scrambling on the ivy-clad bricks. it surely would have been a call for an immediate plummet to death. had the prince not been thoroughly experienced with years and years of experience in exiting the castle grounds for invigorating quests for adventures, he wouldn’t have made it beyond a single ledge. as lithe as a cat, he even managed to maintain his hold on a staggering wide window ledge that showcased an approaching candlelight, presumably one of the many patrolling guards. security had greatly intensified ever since that eye-opening hectic night of ultimate meetings of meetings. the only leeway he was able to breakthrough and finally make through the fortress was through months and months of extensive study with the aid of prince Cường’s silent cues on illustrating ways on how the other may keep visiting him in his lonely desolate tower.

evidently, the legwork pays off since Jaewoo is able to navigate his way through the labyrinth of tenacious security personnel. it’s extraordinarily exciting to be going through such leaps and bounds to visit your secret werewolf best friend, son of the rival kingdom that your family swore an oath against !

entirely pleased with himself and his progress, the young prince proceeds with his voyage to the grand tower window after ensuring with a peep that the patrolling guard has moved on. he makes a quick mental note of how the fourth floor garrison seem to take around seventy five seconds for a quick sweep before moving on with his cat climb.

it must have been a nasty shock for Cường to have his grand balcony doors thumped on frantically in the dead of the night. Jaewoo can faintly make out the startled grunt followed by groggy scuffling towards the set of gold-plated doors. the sight that Cường is faced with upon opening the doors with hesitance is one straight out of the many books that he’s read with Jaewoo in their more relaxed princely hang out sessions. the moon crescent gently laminates Jaewoo’s tall and proud silhouette with its sheer pearly luminescence glimmering off the many encrusted jewels on his figure.

“ prince Cường, head of all mythical protection, the defender of deep sleep and all other his realms, you have officially lived to see and enter another blessed year ! ” Jaewoo enthuses, his eyes dancing wild in delight with his self-perceived inspirational opening. “ despite the beast inside, quite literally if I may add, you have persisted and floated through the face of adversity. a very very joyful and happy birthday to you. as my gift to you, I must insist on you going out with me on this clear mid spring evening. ”

to be expected, Cường stares at him incredulously before opening his mouth to come up with a gurgle of excuses ranging from it being too late and the best birthday gift he can give is to have the longest nap. this is all naturally dismissed by Jaewoo with a wave of hands although he switches up his tactic with pleading beseeching eyes.

“ I swear in the name of all things that I love, this will be a minimal effort journey for you, your highness. ” Jaewoo holds his hand on his chest to declare his oath. “ outside your grounds, I have brought a sled with a comfortable makeshift that I specially made for you. please please please. I shall carry you along the entire time. you only need to walk the distance to and from your bedroom to outside the grounds but even for that, I can piggyback you for when we are out of sights from your garrison. ”

Cường sighs in defeat, knowing that it takes far more energy to Jaewoo who doesn’t take no as an answer either way. the duo had been continuously going out for either one of Jaewoo’s gutsy expeditions in his quest for seeking fantastical legends or heading for a cosy hangout in his secret shed hangout. so it is a familiar cause-and-effect process that Cường has grudgingly gotten accustomed to.

soon enough, the two are bundled up warmly and exit their usual and lesser dangerous route from within the castle instead of dangling off precariously on tower walls. as they veer near the edge of the perimetres of the castle grounds, Jaewoo begins to piggyback him as promised. with Cường’s thick plush cape enveloping his body too, Jaewoo enthusiastically leaps towards the awaiting royal sled concealed underneath the moss of an oak.

“ see, I made it like almost exactly like your real bed which you love to lay in so much ! “ Jaewoo gingerly lowers down Cường after ensuring every speck of leftover moss is flicked off. almost immediately, Cường nestles himself underneath the main heavyweight blanket with his eyes flitting shut which is a sure sign that Jaewoo must have accurately devised a mobile sleeping quarters for the lethargic prince. with the toothiest grin, Jaewoo leaves his nap to him in peace before securing the sled to his armour.

as they traverse through the grounds, a route that Jaewoo deliberately scoured for its even ground to avoid jilting Cường too much, the night begins to sink in deeper. an expert in creating handheld torches, Jaewoo lights the way for himself and his drowsy reluctant companion through the sweeping grand grounds of eclipsing trees. thankfully, the destination in mind for the birthday isn’t too far off so much of the night isn’t wasted on the journey time itself.

they arrive to a clearing that opens up the dull moonlit night with a large lake in sight. there is already a boat awaiting for them ( a product of Jaewoo’s meticulous birthday planning ). the barely illuminated body of water does not do justice for the usual daytime blue-green depths as the night overcasts its murky shadow. in fact, it would have been totally understandable if Cường was to believe that Jaewoo dragged him out in the midst of the night to kill him in this open valley. ironically, the birthday boy does reflect similar sentiments as he questions Jaewoo as to why they have come here but he does thank Jaewoo for bringing him out in the open air.

“ behold my dear friend, you shall see why I brought you here. ” Jaewoo holds out a hand in plea before sticking the burning torch into the ground near the docked boat. “ I’m going to transfer you to the boat now. I made it extra comfy for you, do not fear. ” admittedly, the wooden boat does look slightly shabby from what the torch’s amber lighting shows up. yet the confines of the boat are layered thick with nothing but fleece plush-lined winter blankets and opulent feather pine-stuffed pillows directly from Jaewoo’s palace.

transferring Cường to the boat takes no more than a second, the birthday prince not weighing more than mere grapes to Jaewoo who is amped up on adrenaline. blowing the touch out, must to Cường’s skepticism, he hops into the boat eagerly before grabbing the oars to paddle them out and away from shore. the atmosphere drastically dips to an eerie cloudless night with not a source of light to be found yet Jaewoo keeps on paddling and paddling and paddling.

“ what do you bring me here for ? ” Cường questions yet again, sounding helplessly bewildered. Jaewoo swats at him.

“ ssshhh, you’ll see in a moment. don’t be too loud now ! ” Jaewoo playfully jibes despite being several pitches higher than Cường. setting the oars now with definitive decisiveness, he stops paddling as he opts to shoulder another blanket around himself. “ any moment now . . . ”

as if just to vehemently rebel against Jaewoo’s words, the pair are left in the sweeping frigid silence in the enveloping darkness. the lake is completely still. the air almost stagnant from its lifelessness. Jaewoo frets about Cường falling asleep again. before he can reach out for Cường’s arm to harshly pinch. it begins to appear.

the fireflies begin to leisurely appear. each warm glow emitting slowly one by one until it begins to reflect against the clear lake depths, stark in its crystal clear glowing luminescence. it starts off with ten good fireflies darting around until a few hundred more show up to entirely brighten up the entire body of water like one of the radiant lantern festivals celebrated in the kingdom. some begin to glimmer near the boats which causes a cascading effects of pale yellow to light up all around them. finally Jaewoo can glimpse the entirety of Cường’s face who looks utterly in awe. he gently holds a finger out, witnessing how a firefly immediately beckons to his fingertip. it warms up the features of his face significantly.

this once, Jaewoo remains serenely silent as he soaks in the magical sight of the fireflies and their endless etched out glittery reflection on the still lake’s surface. glancing back to Cường, he brings out the hidden sack of pastries so he can gingerly stuff one in his mouth.

“ happy birthday, your highness ! ”

* : ✮ ┆ the one in which they are both reliant on coffee and stacks of books .

yeah, birthday, it's your birthday. if I die, bury me inside the Louis store, they ask me what I do and who I do it for and how I come up with this shit up in the studio. all I want for my birthday is a big booty hoe !

it is six in the crisp fresh early morning. the scatter of April’s cherry blossoms softly breeze past the windows. in the far off distance, the blue buses agilely shuttle to their timely scheduled stops. what is there to greet the overambitious joggers is the bountiful stretching of the clear blue skies and its cheery sunshine companion. what a landscape of utmost urban tranquility.

skrr, skrr, wrists movin, cookin', gettin' to it cookin', I'm in the kitchen, yams everywhere !

this lyric accurately reveals where the culprit of the booming bass music is located. what should be another college boy routine of panicked last minute waking up, rolling out of bed, brushing teeth and forgetting to comb before running out of the house is not happening. it’s pulverised along with the vibrating bass that resonates through the tight budgeted walls.

ah, Yeezy, Yeezy, how you do it, huh ? it's my birthday, I deserve to be greedy, huh ?

whether the actual birthday boy is begging for the chance to be greedy or the chaotic sound source in the kitchen is debatable. the April birthday boy is was soundly fast asleep in his bedroom underneath the newly gifted weighted blanket and he must be too groggy with early morning drowsiness. he groans as the bass violently shakes his bed before waiting a few moments to see if the music will miraculously switch off. perhaps this spring day will bless him with a power shut off to banish the ruckus.

I show up with a check to your work place then hand the valet the keys to the merces. tell the DJ play your song, this shit come on. what I'm seeing from the back I can't front on. they ask me what I do and who I do it for !

as fast as Cường’s lethargic feet will transport him to the kitchen despite it being a mere few steps in their apartment, it feels like eternity to him. as he languidly inches towards the kitchen, the deafening birthday song begins to ring his ears. it elicits a slight grimace out of him. his only plan is to lower the music volume to five before noiselessly dragging himself back to bed to flop down to prolong his sixteen hour nap.

however, his plans are rapidly crushed to itty bitty microscopic bits the moment he stumbles across the sight of Jaewoo haphazardly dancing along with ardent strong passionate strokes in the midst of the glammed up kitchen. stray confetti and metallic balloons litter the countertops and corners. a stack of presents line up on the island as a standout centrepiece on the counter set up for two. the warm scent of fresh souffle pancakes fill up the air and berry compote compete to overwhelm senses along with the brewing green tea. when Cường is set to open his presents after breakfast, he will come to find out that Jaewoo has purchased a drawstring hoodie pillow, an interesting choice of a pillow, another ostrich pillow for classes, an aromatherapy eye pillow, microwaveable slippers, a book light for philosophical bedtime reading, a golden ratio notebook, a poster, and a self-heating coffee mug.

“ finally, I was beginning to wonder how long it would take to bait you out of bed ! ” Jaewoo chirpily waves at the dopy figure in the middle of his twirling hands up motion, who is seemingly flabbergasted. it’s an overload of various stimuli to all take in at once at six in the morning. but to his credit, Jaewoo begins to lower the volume to a decent level that won’t burst eardrums.

“ who are those presents for ? they better be for you. I told you, you didn’t have to do anything for me. silly boy. ” Cường finally remembers how to vocalise after awakening slightly.

wiggling his finger at him, Jaewoo jubilantly shakes his head with a smug smile before grabbing hold of the other’s shoulders to steer him to sit down on the island stool. “ so you are allowed to do whatever you want for my birthday but I can’t do the same ? if you do not accept these presents then I will have no choice but to start playing Tinashe at full volume. you know how her songs get me going. ”

it appears to be that Cường receives the message so he expectantly grabs his chopsticks. with a triumphant grin, Jaewoo pours out a cup of green tea to him before pouring out a bowl of seaweed soup for him. “ eat up birthday boy, live a very long healthy prosperous life. who else will I take to astronomy club ! I need you alive ! ” with his eyes sparkling mischievously, he then whispers out one final. “ happy birthday Cường. ”

#ok so at least it is still April where you are so #hAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH CUONG #this is super late but it's here .#this may be slightly chaotic #proceed at your own cost #there's like so many reoccurring themes no matter which au they are in JSOIFJSKPFFK #just don't judge<3 #phantombs #* : ✮ ┆ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 (𝐶𝑢𝑜𝑛𝑔).

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paperwick · 5 years ago

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Dragon Age Tarot Style Guide: Part Two

The second of my at least three part set of tarot tutorials. This sentence will link to the first one on composition if you haven’t seen it. It’s been a four year gap between these, and I apologize for that. To all you who messaged me and reminded me of this project, thank you. You kept me from forgetting and I’m glad. <3

It won’t be another four years until I post the next segment, which will be pattern and texture focused. It’ll hopefully be in the next month or two.

This is going to be a long post, so I’m putting it under the cut. Apologies to the mobile users!

As a general disclaimer, this is an unofficial guide, I’ve never worked with Bioware. All of this is based on how I approach tarot design, my inspiration being heavily rooted in Dragon Age Inquisition’s companion card designs.

Secondly, I know nothing about tarot. I tend to use http://www.ata-tarot.com/resource/cards/ heavily as a resource for my understanding of the cards and their meanings.You don’t need to know anything about tarot to do illustrations, just have as much fun as you can. <3

So I typically work with a color composition in mind, but for those who are struggling to imagine a color scheme, my best advice for coming up with a palette is to just throw down some colors in this sort of an arrangement.

Your Main is going to be whats forming the base of the card, or it’ll be the most widely used color. Backgrounds usually make up the main, but sometimes it’s a foreground element or the character’s clothing.

Your Cores are going to be colors that accent the base. You can make these pretty wild to be honest, but complementary colors and triads tend to work best for a balanced color composition. That’s what you’re trying to achieve with these--balance. Think about what’s drawing the most attention. The red in this example I did with the Iron Bull is very strong, and the teal I chose is fighting with it so my last color is something a bit more desaturated that accents the teal instead of picking another aggressive color, like a saturated yellow.

The Accent or HL color is whatever you’re going to use to add the final focus notes. It will typically be your brightest or your most saturated color, though not always. Sometimes your HL color might be the darkest of the composition because your main and core colors are naturally bright. It should be used sparingly, or if you’re using a lot of it, focused in one area.

You can use more colors than this! For my example card with Bull, you can see I made his pants a sort of subdued yellow and added accents to the background and lit parts of his body in in different colors, But you’ll want to keep your major colors limited to keep it cohesive. If you start losing cohesion, I recommend using a gradient map over your picture set to multiply or soft light (not at 100%) to tone down your most divergent colors, and you can mask out areas where appropriate.

This Bull card is one I made by picking my colors first then deciding on the content and composition. Color picking can be done first, or second as I’ve done with the rest of my examples.

Card #1: Rayne Amell [ @dracoangel ]

The Queen of Cups

This card went though several iterations with color, and the end product is less about story and more about atmosphere. The drawn composition reflects more of the story: she conceals her thoughts and feelings, but the world bends around her like water. I wanted to add more purple to this card, considering the character’s preference for it, so I skewed the color scheme in the final to be more purple. The first version probably makes for a more cohesive palette, but it lacks the same depth and drama as the one with purple. I added another core color to the second palette, which is totally okay to do. Sometimes the core palette might be 7 colors, sometimes it’s 2. The idea is to strike a balance. Colors that are super eye catching like the red in the scarf might better serve the composition as a lesser accent, whereas the purple core is a great fill because it’s fairly desaturated and doesn’t demand as much attention.

The HL color takes up a fair amount of this composition, but note that it’s strongest in the top two thirds, and is centered in the top third. The foreground water also cradles it against one of the darkest purples of the card, which helps center focus up top.

Card #2: Valora Lavellan [ @kylorensprettymuchanasshole ]

The Devil

This was the most difficult of the palettes, I’m working with two separate light sources in two wildly different locations. On the one side you’re at an ancient elvhen temple, on the other, in a burning chantry. It only made sense to have two different palettes for this composition. Where I really failed here was in not having a color that bridged the two sides. If you can engineer a color to be in between two differing palettes, you’re in a good place.

With that in mind, I revisited the thumbnail.

The execution is a little weak, but the idea works. The bridge color could work in either of the palettes and is a midway point between the two most similar values of the core colors. It’s used primarily where the separate palettes meet each other smoothing that transition. In this instance, it also helps to define the figure and double down on where the focus is, since before it was fighting between the top left and bottom right corners. Now the focus works as a diagonal from one corner to the other.

Double palettes are hard, but can make for some truly dynamic color compositions.

Card #3: Iothari Mahariel [ @theuselesspotoo ]

Six of Swords

This card was a struggle for completely different reasons. The palette is pretty homogeneous, primarily purple, with a hint of green. This one could use far more variation, and the challenge is in driving interest with such a limited palette. This is where your values are going to be super important. Your darks vs lights are always hugely apart of composition, but in limited palettes they do the most work in driving interest. Make sure to break up some of your larger and more prominent shapes with value differences, the snow vs the dark stone beneath it.

If that isn’t enough though, there’s a few tricks that can help push focus where you want it without heavily changing the color scheme.

We have three very distinct planes in this; the sky, the distant mountains and skyhold, and the cliff the figure is standing on. We can push the far mountain plane back by reducing the brightness of it, and we can pull the nearby plane closer by adding stronger highlights to the lit areas. I also brightened up the figure since they were getting lost in the sky a bit.

In addition, I popped the foreground colors with just a bit more red, to separate that plane from the more bluish purple mountain plane.

Just those small changes really sharpened up the focus of the composition, and we were able to keep the palette fairly limited.

Card #4: Tighe Lavellan [ @queen-scribbles ]

Nine of Wands

This palette was a breeze compared to the others. We’re working with complementary colors, reds versus greens, and very little divergence in either direction. The bottom half is primarily reds, the top greens, and they meet in the middle with a soft orange and harsh yellow. Palettes with complementary colors are the easiest to work with, the important part is making sure their balance works with your drawn composition because they like to fight. All of my reds are limited and desaturated because the greens and yellows, by the nature of the composition, are the most demanding elements.

Card #5: Lathari Lavellan [ @jisabeau ]

The Chariot

I knew what I wanted for this one immediately when I started it. I really wanted the character to be falling into a void, to mirror their emotional crisis when dealing with the deadly white bear of their past. But though this works fairly well as a base palette, it’s really missing the intense horror I wanted when I started.

So in my edits I pulled them further apart, and pushed the darks even further. The challenge here is having a dual focus, since I don’t really know if either stand out enough from one another at this phase. I have to pick a focus, either the bright whites of the bear or the strong orange/green tones of the character.

This is probably the strongest focus-wise.

But I enjoy the color notes of this one far more.

The point here is, sometimes things aren’t perfect, and that’s also okay. Pick your favorite, or at least pick one, and take that to completion. It’ll occur to you while finishing it what I needs. Which brings us to the final point, similar to that of tutorial part one:

Final Note: Don’t spend overlong on one thumbnail. I’ve spent days in the thumbnailing stage, that’s fine, but don’t spend more than 1 hour on any one color thumbnail drawing; it’s not worth it. If an idea is good but not great, just start a new thumbnail of something similar, and you’ll stumble onto the right composition.

Remember to explore your own color intuition. My way of doing this might be helpful, but if it’s not, don’t feel compelled to follow it. Everyone has a unique vision, and we’ve got to feel out our own paths.

If you have any questions, send them to paperwick [at] gmail [dot] com under the heading “Color Tutorial: Questions”, OR comment on this post (I might not see them on a reblog) and I’ll pool them into one area and answer as many as I can in a separate post.

Finally, I’d like to give another shout out to everyone who sent their character breakdowns to me for this. I wish I had time to get to all of them, and I really appreciate you taking the time to put them together! Thank you all so much!

Not making promises on when Part Three will come out, but it WILL be coming out. Thanks for reading through all this, I hope it’s been helpful.

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nellie-elizabeth · 4 years ago

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Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @lizardkingeliot. Thank you!!!

Name: Dani (or Nellie, or Rizandace on AO3)

Fandoms: The Magicians! I dabble elsewhere when the mood strikes, but lately the mood is striking Magicians all day every day.

Where you post: AO3

Most Popular One-shot: Promises. I’m proud of this one!

Most Popular Multichap: Hmm. I guess by kudos that would be Lover’s Touch, but Maybe This Time is much longer (240k, YIKES), and has more comment engagement, etc.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: I have a recency bias problem which is that whatever I’ve done most recently I think is the best, because I’m (hopefully) improving with each story I write? So I’ll cheat and name two. I truly think my current WIP, A Comet Pulled From Orbit, is the strongest thing I’ve written, but due to its subject matter and more “gen” feel, it’s gotten less engagement. BUT, if we’re going for something purely Queliot, that would be is it too late (or could this love protect me), which I think is quite strong, and you should all definitely read!

Fic you were nervous to post: Oh, definitely A Comet Pulled From Orbit. It’s Alice POV. It’s an Old Guard AU. It’s plotty and full of action scenes and while Queliot plays a meaty supporting role, it’s Alice’s story, and I worried nobody would bother with it because of that. I still get nervous that comments will dry up on every chapter I post!

How do you choose your titles: MY LEAST FAVORITE PART OF WRITING. Lately, I’ve gotten on a song lyric kick, but using musical theatre lyrics, so... Cabaret was the inspo for my last longfic title, then the current one is Wicked... I have a Hamilton lyric I think I’m going to use for an upcoming one. It works for me, and takes away the stress!

Do you outline: Yes, but loosely, with lots of gaps for scenes to naturally add themselves in. For my current story, which I’m trying to plot more like a conventional novel, I definitely broke out the major plot beats that I needed to hit, and I had a pretty good idea of chapter count based on those. But I don’t have a super detailed bullet point list or anything.

Complete: 22 on Ao3 (out of 24 total, one of which is abandoned I guess). Half of those are Magicians.

In progress: Just A Comet Pulled From Orbit is in progress for me currently!

Prompts?: I kind of freeze up when given prompts. Would love to try it out, but usually unless I come up with the idea myself, I don’t have the motivation to finish it.

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: The thing I’m doing for my Big Bang, which is SECRET, and then also the Queliot/Qualice/Malice/Marliot messy nonsense that I affectionately refer to as “sexcapades” which lives almost entirely in my head right now but I sure am excited to write it someday...

Worlds I would love to write for in the future: Uhhh Queliot owns my whole ass currently, but I really did love The Old Guard, hence my current WIP, so maybe I’d dip in and write about those characters, too? We’ll see if inspiration strikes!

Tagging @spiders-hth-is-an-outlier, @hmgfanfic, @allegria23... and anyone else who hasn’t been tagged!

#queliot #the magicians #my fic #my posts

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togglesbloggle · 5 years ago

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On Candles

It’s fascinating to me, the ways that becoming a professional entails a sort of blood sacrifice.

Backtracking: ‘Amateur’ is one of my favorite words, and not just because of the fun lilt. ‘Ama’ as in ‘amorous’ and ‘amiable’, from the French amour. Love, you see. When we say ‘amateur’, we’re saying ‘one who acts from love.’ And this gives the amateur extraordinary powers. In my case (geology) that usually manifests in mineralogy- those rock collector types often beat the pants off of me when it comes to memorizing mineral names and whatnot, and I can invariably learn something from them.

What, then, distinguishes the professional? To some extent it’s the costs and burdens of reliability. The amateur can play when they like, then set down the hobby and go do something else; in contrast, the professional is integrated into large and complex systems, often with important consequences, and that creates a demand for steady, reliable output. You can’t be a lawyer or a programmer just when you feel like it, at least not at the scale of weeks or months. A friend once told me that when inspiration strikes, she can get her writing done sitting on the edge of the bathtub with a yellow legal pad, but to write every day is something else entirely, and learning that skill is the work of decades.

But as important (and expensive) as that is, that’s not really the sacrifice that I mean. What I’m going for is more existential.

Let’s start from my comfort zone, science. The goal of science is in many ways the elucidation of truth, and over the last few hundred years it has had many admirable successes. Generally speaking, people get involved in this business because curiosity is a burning coal in their gut, because they experience a literal and almost physical pain when explanations don’t add up or when they’re prevented from filling a gap in the collective story of the world. But the metric of truth in its scientific sense is power, and more specifically the predictive utility of inductive theories over uncertain domains. And so to be a scientist, I must first be a skeptic- instead of the more instinctive and binary forms of belief and disbelief, I assess claims as ‘provisionally useful’. Like a monkey playing in a jungle gym, I grip my beliefs as they come to hand, use them for leverage, and then let go as I move past them.

You see the trick yet? Skepticism, as first articulated by Pyrrho, was created with the specific goal of achieving happiness through abdicating our pursuit of truth. Science exists because we have a burning desire to know. And science works because we can’t. To be effective at this work, I had to embrace a kind of self-annihilation, to adopt and live by a philosophy that denies me, forever, the opportunity to simply believe true things. Blood sacrifice.

If this was just an issue in science, then it would be an odd but small quirk in reality. But I’m pretty sure that it’s universal, or nearly so, among professionals. Consider George Orwell’s essay about working in a book shop, which echoes my experience. I have a vague understanding that this is an issue for legal professionals like lawyers and judges, and you can watch it play out with even well-intentioned police. It definitely happens to doctors and psychologists. To every priest I’ve known well, which is a unique and small tragedy of its own. Artists, famously, but even more unfortunate is the critic- to be a professional consumer of media is a self inflicted modo mundi. Engineering (in my limited experience) is more qualified in the affirmative, but it’s still affirmative. If you’re a life coach, does the notion of self-improvement dissolve in your hands? I suppose it must.

It’s related to reductionism, I think. Or maybe ‘emptiness’ in the Alan Watts sense, since we’re not really talking about physical systems. Nothing we care about is atomic. When you see a worthy thing in the normal human way, ‘truth’ or ‘justice’ or ‘art’, then it is what it is. But when the microscope clicks into place, all of a sudden the object of that love is suddenly gone, replaced by some bewildering array of subcomponents operating in arbitrary or even capricious ways. To propagate and participate in that system- rather than simply to benefit from and appreciate it- you have to get used to the invisibility and semi-absence of the object itself. Love can take us right up to the edge of our profession, but the first step across the boundary has to be motivated by something else.

A lot of young professionals make this mistake I think, imagining that they can ‘do what they love’ in a straightforward way. There are whole infrastructures that depend on the tendency of early-career professionals to treat their work as equivalent to play. Grad school, Silicon Valley startups. But those conditions are rarely homeostatic over a lifetime, and a professional in full maturity almost always makes some sort of distinction between ‘work’ and ‘life’.

I don’t mean to say that this state of affairs is fundamentally bad, because it isn’t. I am a scientist! And I have done science, I have expanded human knowledge. It’s my honor and my privilege, a source of pride and gratitude, one of the very best things about me. But there’s a subtle truth about the world that probably bears being made explicit: if you want to be a candle, you’d better be ready to spend a lot of time in the dark.

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hopesiick · 4 years ago

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𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐃 // vice detective, thirty-three, red ridge native.

— unflinching, grudging, brainy, irreverent, plucky, mulish. loosely inspired by dominique dipierro (mr robot), laurie blake (watchmen hbo), eve polastri (killing eve), wendy byrde (ozark), and allie pressman (the society). this vine, too.

howdy, folks! i’m dev. 🤠 this is my dearest brain babie, jordan. normally, this is where i’d get all mushy-gushy on y’all, but the rest of this introduction is already too long as it is, and i’d rather not add insult to injury hehe. just know i’m happy to be here & even more excited to get to know you all + your brain babies, too! 🥳 @redridgeimp

— pinterest, stats + connections page.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: bullet points marked with three asterisks (***) feature mentions of domestic abuse and unfit parenting. reader discretion is advised.

the toussards are old money. her mother’s side of the family have made their fortune off of hay farms scattered across the state of nevada, and her father’s side of the family have mostly been cattle and dairy farmers. together, they decided to venture into real estate, too, by buying up farm land plots and selling them at a higher price, along with residential plots, too.

they’re not showy people, but they definitely make good use of their money. jordan’s childhood home is a plantation-style house on a big ole plot of land situated on the outskirts of town. they had healthy green grass with sprinklers and a full garden. inside, everything was real wood, ivory, and silver. they had a maid and gardeners and the whole nine yards. still, if you hadn’t seen that or recognized their family name, you might have expected them to be any other family belonging to red ridge.

to many, they gave off the image of a picture-perfect, all-american nuclear family. it’s easy to pretend, seeing as they live so far away from all the glitz and none of them -- no matter how they feel -- are willing to shatter that golden reputation, but it isn’t real. elise, her mother, wanted a doll more than she wanted an actual child, and it was society’s pressure on women to give birth that forced her hand, not any sense of innate desire for expanding the family. joseph, her father, was too caught up in his wife’s every wish and whim to really pay attention to jordan in a deep way. he never turned his back on her, but jordan never felt any deep belonging to him either -- if anything, he felt more like a 2d stand in for the father she wished she’d had.

*** that meant there was only one adult left to really pick up her parent’s slack, and that was corinne, her aunt. corinne, who had an awful habit of bringing terrible men home. corinne, who was bipolar and unmedicated, and often in charge of taking care of jordan from the moment she was in diapers to the moment she graduated college. corinne, who was manipulated by her own sister. corinne, who was helpless to protect jordan against her mother’s attacks, and unable to shield her from the rage her boyfriends spat. corinne is like a mother to jordan. she was the hand that rubbed her back when she was sick. she was the open arms that held her when one of jordan’s teenage dates went sour. she was the one to cover for her when she snuck out and the one to teach her everything her mother considered too immoral and dirty. corinne is her mother in the way elise never could be, but still .. jordan can’t help but feel anger towards her.

*** jordan’s known how to use, fire, and clean a gun from the age of eight. she learned how to hunt at the age of ten. she knew and helped her father field dress a handful of animals by the age of twelve. you may think this was just a bit of heavy-handed bonding between a father and daughter, but it wasn’t. elise and joseph used to go away a lot, both for pleasure and business, which left jordan in corinne’s sole care. that wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact that a grand majority of corinne’s relationships were abusive, specifically physically. jordan was a child, but she was a child with a duty -- a duty to protect her caretaker if necessary. at the time, jordan didn’t think much of it. she liked feeling like she had an in with her father, liked feeling important. it was only when she got older that she realized how fucked up everything had been, and how that’s the driving factor behind the feeling of fear she just can’t drop, and the mistrust she has in others. the anger she feels towards corinne is rooted in that. she can’t help but feel like it’s corinne’s fault and she hates that her aunt -- a fully grown adult -- was the center of her childhood, instead of her own self.

skipping forward a bit, jordan went to college right after high school to major in criminal science. her lifelong exposure to such abuse left her with a taste for vengeance. see, jordan wanted to be a police officer to protect her hometown, sure, but she also wanted the badge so that she could finally dish out the punishment that so many of the officers she’d seen were unwilling to. the only way to stop that culture of turning a blind eye was to do it from the inside, and that’s exactly what she did.

jordan’s been a cop for twelve years now. she started her career doing patrol and eventually working with the gangs and narcotics team for five years. after a lot of pestering and brown-nosing, jordan became a g&n detective. she was mostly in charge of surveillance, carrying out raids, and the planning of both. ( she had an opportunity early in her career to go undercover, but jordan’s too obvious for that. ) eventually, jordan switched departments over to the special victims unit, but that stint really only served as a segue into where she is now: the vice and support department. she used to specialize in community outreach, helping bridge the gap between the community and the precinct. she worked with groups focused on helping those affected by drugs and sex workers who have been abused. when one of the detectives assigned to missing persons cases left, jordan was quick to apply for it. needless to say, she got the job and has been doing that since.

she’s got the nose for it -- all the digging and reviewing and passion for the relentless pursuit. she doesn’t particularly like dealing with the families of those affected, but it’s part of the job. on most days, she genuinely enjoys it, but with the rise in crime and the amount of deaths at their feet, jordan can’t help but rethink her choices. she’s competitive by nature; she can’t handle these losing games.

jordan’s a very cutthroat cop -- especially in her g&n days, when it was all heat, all pressure, all the time. she’s got an eye for weakness and isn’t afraid to exploit that on the job. she’s not above making threats -- promises, really -- and has always been the type to gather as much evidence as humanly possible, because she wants prosecutors to see justice through. she’s just really efficient. she wouldn’t be where she was at only thirty-three if she wasn’t. most of the time, you can catch her putting in overtime hours.

that being said... jordan has a big heart. she doesn’t believe in institutions as a whole, but she does believe in people. the law is the law and rules are vital for a functioning society, but .. she may be willing to look the other way sometimes, if you’re close enough. ( i mean, she was married to a valencia member at one point, so. ) she may not agree with what some people do, but she’ll really only go after you if what you’re doing is truly heinous. ( but don’t tell her supervisors! 🥺 and don’t mention the hypocrisy to her face. )

outside of work, though, jordan’s pretty chill. she used to be a loudmouthed firecracker in her youth, but she’s calmed down significantly since then. really, she’s not so bad! maybe it's because she can't handle being alone, but she thrives from being in groups + will strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. if she likes your shoes, she'll tell you. if you need a ride home then she’ll walk with you because she’s most likely equally as inebriated. kind of the person that you’re hesitant to approach, but when you do she treats you like you’re old friends -- even if you're not. you know that drunk girl in the bathroom that gives you sagely advice or tells you she loves your hair? that’s jordan, except she’s not drunk.

when jordan makes her mind up on something, it’s almost impossible to get her to budge. it doesn’t matter if she’s in the wrong, she’ll trudge on no matter what. her flippancy in the face of danger – a prized act at this point – has landed her in trouble before, and it most certainly will again. she’s unyielding and unapologetic; not willing to change herself for anyone. getting her to talk about her emotions is like pulling teeth, except even that would probably be easier. she’s incredibly honest about some things as a way to hide behind it; it’s a farce that distracts people into thinking she’s being honest with them, when really she’s not -- not entirely, anyway.

loves love, but she’s rotten at it. her anxiety gets in the way, tells her that she’ll mess it up somehow until she finally does, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. ( something-something abt the fact that she can’t comprehend someone loving her if not even her own parents could ). she’s a much better friend, and jordan thinks that’s more important anyhow. genuinely, if you’re her friend then she loves you endlessly and earnestly.

𝒇𝒖𝒏 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓 !

jordan is that friend that gets a little bit too into car karaoke.

she’s also the type to order a screwdriver during an 11a brunch.

it’s a wonder that she doesn’t have tinnitus, considering she always blasts heavy metal music in her car.

makes jokes about getting married and divorced, because if you can’t laugh at your pain then you’re fucked.

if you ever visit her unannounced, you’ll spot her in t-shirts that say “milf in training”, “god looks like me”, and more.

if you’re mean to her she’ll give you a parking ticket.

she plays dirty in fights. used to bite a lot as a child and she still does. all is fair in love and war, babie! enjoy getting that tetanus shot and lovely hospital bill! 💋

pantsuits from monday to friday, and overalls without a bra on the weekend because fuck that shit. also extremely partial to shirts with low plunges. a lil bit of side titty for everyone.

if you’re leaving a drink behind she’ll finish it for you because daddy didn’t raise no quitters.

has a lot of self-worth issues, but she’d sooner die than ever tell anyone about them or even confront them herself.

don’t let the pantsuit fool you! there’s pure muscle underneath that two-piece, babie.

𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄. 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

“i am the shape you made me. filth teaches filth.”

"can i be blamed for my efforts? all men are drawn to the sea, perilous though it may be."

"there is a place, deep in the heart of fear, where you trap yourself and claim that is safety."

"still, a great deal of light falls on everything."

"i hold a stalk in my hand. i am the stalk. my roots go down to the depth of the world."

“i always figured when i got older, god would sorta come into my life somehow. and he didn’t. i don’t blame him. if i was him i would have the same opinion of me that he does.”

“nothing washes off.”

“you cannot be stolen, ransacked, looted like an emptied bank account or a burgled house. you are the tough old tissues, the exquisite scars. you are the thing that would not die.”

𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 ! ( open to any gender )

jordan can’t function without a best friend, so.. gimme, please! 🥺🤲

i once read a passage talking about how the friendships you make in your childhood can never be mimicked in your adulthood, and you know what.. #true. where’s jordan’s childhood friends at? do they still keep in touch? did they have a massive fallout as teenagers where jordan told them to get hit by a truck because she was a very dramatic 16 yr old? were they frenemies? do they still have one of jordan’s things because she was terrible at remembering everything after a sleepover? did jordan’s parents help your muse’s family out? idc, just gimme!

exes / almost exes. remember what i said about jordan being a shit when it comes to love? they could’ve been serious at some point whether as adults or in their youth, maybe it was short-lived, maybe jordan never even let it get off the ground. could be on good terms or bad terms or no terms at all.

neighbors!! jordan pulls some odd hours n sometimes plays her music a little too loud and burns her food more often than she should at 33 yrs old. she may or may not be the best neighbor to have is all i’m saying, but she tries!!

friends!! platonic love is the most purest form of love there is and she’s got a lot of it to give!! come and get ya some!

enemies / hateships because sometimes .. it just be like that. whether this has to do with a falling out of some sort, just straight up hate at first sight, or something to do with an encounter on the job, or something else entirely i’m here for it!

one night stands / [old] fwb. i’m gonna be honest with y’all: if jordan likes you, then she can’t sleep with you. now, i’m gonna be honest with y’all again: jordan’s very much a yes-girl. she says and does things just to get a reaction sometimes or see what’ll happen ( something-something "sometimes if you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them" ). that being said, she’ll sleep with just about anyone. maybe they don’t talk about it ever, maybe they only ever talk when they want something, maybe they regret it, maybe it’s all gucci, and maybe it was good until it wasn’t. idk!

jordan has been shot twice in her career thus far. the first time was during a noise disturbance call and the second time was during a narc raid. if your muse wants in on that we can discuss the deets!

and also literally whatever else your heart desires because i’m both here for the fluffiest deepest connections ever and also the angstiest makes-me-wanna-die type shit. i literally don’t say no to anything so if you have any ideas you think jordan can be a good fit for, i’m all ears!!

#redridgeintro #did i really have to write all of tht? no. but did i do it anyway bc i love jordan with my whole entire heart? yes. yes i unfortunately did.#tldr is that she's just a messy ole scaredy cat with a big marshmallow heart !!!!#domestic violence tw #domestic abuse tw

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lynnesgalaxy · 5 years ago

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Here’s some REALLY old art I never posted! (It was done in December 7, 2018! wowies!)

I’ll add links another day, but this is the continuation of a story I posted a good while ago. So! Writing part and explanation under the cut!

Imagine getting the perfect chance to get rid of those who pester you, after a thousand and a half years standing their presence and not being able to do anything about it. Imagine being so close you can taste the word victory in your lips. You can see yourself smiling, relaxing, finally away from the ones keeping you from your goals. Imagine the pure rush of adrenaline and satisfaction at seeing them at the edge of your axe, as you swing it down in a final strike. And imagine it going so, so wrong that the one thing you feared most happens and you suddenly fade from reality, stuck, surrounded by nothingness as your whole body tells you you have to start from scratch. The worst feeling of pain you had ever felt struck you in that moment. A pain so deep you feel like you could never recover from it. Sure, in the physical sense it hurt, but the shame, the utter horror at being stripped of the glory that you yearned and worked on for so long was far worse than any hit, any kick, any swing of a sword at your chest you could ever feel. How would you feel, then, if while you're trying to recover from the shock, you hear the news of the entire world as you knew it changing? Suddenly, no one's fighting any more. Suddenly, the people you looked up to start spouting nonsense; stuff about friendship, peace, other people's "well-beings". Suddenly, your rank matters no more. Suddenly, your efforts mean shit and you're stuck in some room with nothing to do because suddenly, all you were trained for, all you were made for matters no longer. What do you do, stuck with no purpose in a world who stabbed you in the back and left you to rot for the sake of some useless garbage of a planet? The very same planet in which it all started going downhill and made you question everything you are? As the years passes by, everyone becomes more and more intent on living the role of the "perfect" family. Happy smiles, no gem holding others to bid their orders. Cooperation and "teamwork" and sunshine. But no, you're not as clueless as them. You don't fall for that facade. You're not stupid like they are. And hell, if the only choice is to take matters into your own terms, make them beg for mercy, eyes bulging out their skulls as they realize how WRONG they were to believe they could go unscathed after taking everything from you, as your hands grip tightly around their throats or—even better—around their gems cracking under the pressure... Then that's what you will do.

I drew this as a small continuation to that Opposite Sides story I posted last year, but I never got around to writing the dialogues for it.

So today I was inspired to write stuff, started writing something and then said screw it, imma write that piece down heck yeah Since I never posted this, I never got to continue the story before. And after all that happened during the series AND the movie, I wondered: what would have happened with our gems during that 2 year gap? And you know, I've explained a bit about Cyel and Fire now living happily on Earth and all, but man, what about Carnelian? Our kind, little friendly sweet Carny? Her whole purpose, the reason why she was created, was to trick Homeworld traitors and bring them in to put them on trial (and, you know, a few here and there who were... "accidentally" dealt with before they could even get there). What would happen if her whole purpose in life and all she cared for was suddenly taken away, PLUS the added shame of being poofed for the first time in her entire life AND it being the fault of the one gem she despises the most? Oh man, she'd go nuts. Good thing that didn't happen, huh? Hahah, just kidding, of course. How could something like that be, right? Lucky us.... hahahaaa.... (also ft. Black "my boss is insane but at least she respects me so standing her rage as she murders all the pillows in my room ain't so bad i guess" Pearl)

#Steven Universe #Gemsona #OC #Original Character #Carnelian #Black Pearl #digital art #queueeeeeeee

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keepingupwithlinmanuel · 5 years ago

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Lin-Manuel Miranda interview: from Hamilton to His Dark Materials

I know Hamilton remains wildly popular more than four years after it premiered on Broadway because of the intense response to my Instagram post boasting I have tickets to watch it the evening before meeting its creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda. "It's one of my absolute favourite things in the world ever!" raves one correspondent. "It's WONDERFUL and I defy you not to download the soundtrack afterwards," adds another. "I went last night! Second time. You're gonna love it."

The problem, however, is that I'm not sure I will love it. When theatre is great, it's the best thing on the planet, but when it is bad, as I have learnt from the bitter experience of watching three-hour open-air adaptations of Dickens' novels, it is the worst. Musicals are especially challenging: in my experience, you either like them or you don't, and given one of the few I have enjoyed was Avenue Q, which subverted the form, I'm in the latter camp.

Then, on top of this, there is the pressure of hype (and Hamilton has been more hyped than anything this side of the moon landings), and the challenge of taking hip-hop, which I love, out of an urban setting. It can easily go a bit Wham Rap!, or even worse, if you've seen the video, Michael Gove performing Wham Rap!.

It is, however, pretty good. The last thing the world needs is another long review of Hamilton, and I can't say I downloaded the soundtrack afterwards or that I didn't look at my watch occasionally, but using rap to retell the dry story of the founding fathers is inspired, and I'm so relieved that I blurt out my review to the 39-year-old writer and performer when I meet him in a restaurant in Fitzrovia. "I do find that with both Hamilton and In the Heights, my first show," responds the award-winning composer, lyricist and actor, "I get a lot of people who say to me, 'I don't really like musicals, but I loved this.' I attribute that to a very simple thing: my wife, who doesn't really like musicals. She didn't grow up going to see them, or doing theatre. She's a lawyer; when we met, she was a scientist. I have a higher bar to clear than most composers, because my first audience is my wife, and it can't just be a pretty tune."

You might recognise his wife, Vanessa Nadal, whom he met at high school, from the video of the couple's wedding reception in 2010, which like everything Miranda touches, went viral, and shows him performing the Fiddler on the Roof song To Life to his beloved.

Even my withered heart may have been momentarily lifted by it. She has accompanied her husband with their two young sons, aged one and four, to Britain, where he is filming a part in the BBC's slick new adaptation of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, though the reason he is in London today is that he has just been the subject of an episode of Desert Island Discs. The New Yorker takes a takes a swig of his coffee, which he tells me he chose as his luxury on his island ("I'm so basic"), adjusts his yellow baseball cap and asks me a question about the unsolicited review: "Why did you feel the need to say it?" There follows the most painful recording I've ever had to listen back to, as I make a bunch of ludicrous generalisations about musicals, speculating that perhaps they divide men from women, or the working classes from the middle classes, or straight people from gay people, or white people from brown people. It only strikes me a few minutes in that not only is Miranda living proof that the generalisations are nonsense, but I am essentially explaining musicals to a world expert in the form - a man who, before the age of 40, has a Pulitzer prize, three Tony awards, three Grammys, an Emmy, a MacArthur Fellowship, a Kennedy Center Honor, two Olivier awards, one Academy award nomination and two Golden Globe nominations to his name.

"Where do you want to start?" he responds with what is, in retrospect, startling patience. "You brought in all this cultural baggage and you're laying it at my feet and I don't know which bag to open." Another swig of coffee. "I think with musicals, it has to do with the way in which you interact with music in your own life. I grew up in a culture where dancing and singing at weddings was supercommon. So, if that's corny to you growing up, or you're taught to believe that's corny or unbelievable, then of course you're not going to like musicals."

...

He spent much of those years doing a bunch of badly paid, disparate jobs, which, given his nature, he nevertheless enjoyed. They included working as an English teacher at his former high school. ("I loved my curriculum. The class was exhilarating once I realised the less I talked, the more they learnt. I saw a future in which I taught at my old high school for 30 years and was very happy.") He wrote for a local paper as a columnist and restaurant reviewer. ("What kind of restaurant reviewer was I? Not very discriminating. If a new restaurant opened, I would go and eat some stuff and say, 'Hey, we have a Thai restaurant. I get to eat first at it. This is great!' ") And he made guest appearances on a number of TV shows including The Sopranos and House. What kind of roles was he being offered at the time? "I wasn't getting any roles! I was always the Latino friend of the white guy in the lead. And so centring ourselves in the drama, telling our own stories, is a big part of In the Heights, my first musical."

An unexpected thing about meeting Miranda is how instinctively he turns to the topic of his first musical, In the Heights, rather than Hamilton - not least when he talks about how he spent one month each year as a child with his grandparents in Vega Alta, Puerto Rico, and was inspired by the gap between his worlds. "In Puerto Rico we were doctors and lawyers. And we're cabbies in New York; we're for the most part the poorer segment of society, and on TV we were always thieves and we were always the Sharks. In the Heights was a response to that. It was, 'Are we allowed to be on stage without having a knife in our hands?' " But then he has spent part of the summer filming a movie version of that musical, which is set over the course of three days, involving characters in the largely Hispanic-American neighbourhood. It is also the project that changed his life most dramatically. The more recent success of Hamilton rather eclipses the fact that his first show, which he began writing in the late Nineties when he was still a student at Wesleyan University, Connecticut, was also wildly successful. After success off-Broadway, the musical went to Broadway, opening in March 2008 and ending up being nominated for 13 Tony awards, winning four, including best musical and best original score.

...

Miranda, described as "a fantasy of the Obama era", has since been active in politics, lobbying and fundraising for Puerto Rico and performing with Ben Platt at the March for Our Lives anti-gun-violence rally in Washington DC on March 24, 2018. Does he feel demoralised by the drift of politics to the far right? "The thing about us all being connected online is that you can read all of the worst news from all over the world and be overwhelmed. You can't let it all in; just act on what you can act on." Should Trump be ignored or fought every step of the way? "It's hard to even discuss it, right, because Trump will have outraged us on two new things in the next [few hours], as soon as he wakes up, and it won't be relevant by the time we're having this conversation. And the same with Brexit, which is just as uncertain."

What did he make of Trump's revival of the phrase "Get back to where you came from" in relation to Democrat politicians? "It's unacceptable. Just because he said it doesn't mean it's acceptable." He leans back in his seat. "Here's my fear of getting into this with you: every time I've done a UK interview, I've said incredible shit and Trump's always the headline, even if I've only said two lines about it. So I'm happy to talk about it, but I'm really scared it's going to be the headline."

I risk another question. Would Miranda ever run for office? "It's funny - I remember when I was a teenager, my dad got approached by pretty serious people about running for a state Senate seat, and he said no. I asked, 'Why?' He said, 'I don't want to have to watch my mouth.' And for me, it's similar. I also have seen in my life, first-hand, the people who get addicted to running, and it's like their moment passed, but they're still running for something, because they're chasing that thrill of winning, and it's about much more than representing the constituents. I would never want to get stuck in that cycle or that pattern. It's more fun writing songs than doing any of that."

Read the rest here behind the Times paywall.

#lin manuel miranda #times uk #hamilton #politics and advocacy #in the heights #Interviews

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calliecat93 · 5 years ago

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Are we ready for a good ol’ fashioned Grimm fight readers? I hope you are! So this is the final chapter to contain footage from the trailer, and all that’s left from that are the outfits and the fights in the mines. So… this should be an interesting one. The past two chapters have been pretty strong, so can this one continue the streak? Well, let’s take a look~!

Overview

We actually get multiple perspectives in the beginning, so let’s go in chronological order. First is Clover briefing Ruby, Jaune, and Qrow on the upcoming mission, which is to clear the launch site for Amity Colosseum. The plan is to use an abandoned Dust Mine… but it’s Grimm infested, so they gotta get rid of those nasty buggers first. I really like seeing Ruby and Jaune there and being respected as the respective leaders of their teams. They feel like actual Huntsmen now… which if one zooms in on the holo-screen, we see that they’re labeled as active Huntsmen now! Yay~! Anyways, after the briefing, Pietro gives everyone containers containing their upgraded weapons, modified by both requests and based on what he saw in Vytal Festival footage, and new outfits! Everyone preps, including Ruby… but then Oscar approaches her. We’ll go into that one in a bit. For now though, everyone is ready to go, but Oscar remains behind in Atlas. Still, we see everyone use landing strategies, including Jaune. The boy has grown~! Also, new song~! Love it~!!!

So it’s Team RWBY with Marrow and Harriet, JNR with Elm and Vine, and finally Qrow and Clover. We get a cute Bumblebee moment as Ruby feels cold, likely from the very brief amount of Aura she depleted when landing. Which we saw on Blake’s Scroll, which all of those were also updated! But when Blake mentions leaving Oscar behind, Yang stops Ruby to question about her lying to Ironwood. Ruby is clearly uncomfortable with this, but justifies it by bringing up the current state of Atlas and Mantle. Blake and Weiss back her up and agree that for now, they should hold back on revealing everything about Jinn, Oz, and Salem. Ruby even says that she /will/ tell Ironwood eventually… but she goes quiet when Yang asks about how Oscar took it. We flashback to Ruby handing Oscar the Lamp since… well, she’s about to go on a mission and having a Relic/Grimm Magnet out in the open could be a bad thing. But Oscar then asks the million-dollar question; isn’t Ruby doing to Ironwood what Oz did to them? We see Ruby look conflicted… but we don’t see her response.

For now, the mission is underway with all the groups going through different sections of the Mines. We get a few bits like Clover asking Qrow about being on a team before, but Qrow responding that working alone tends to be easier. Ouch. We have Nora trying to compliment Ren’s new look… but he dodges the topic. Because we haven’t seen that kind of scene in everything in existence ever. Over with RWBY, they run into a cave-in… which causes Blake to recognize the Mine that they are in. One where an explosion happened, and while no one says it, likely killed several Faunus. Hmm… could this be the same accident that killed Ilia’s parents perhaps? Anyways, this makes Weiss feel guilty for her father’s horrible actions as well as how complacent about it she used to be. Marrow, who is also a Faunus, even pipes in about how due to Atlas’ system/society, humans always stand back and allow his kind to be mistreated despite benefiting from them while they have to do nothing. Plus there are those who still willingly abuse them, like the Schnee Dust Company. After all, again it isn’t said, but remember what we found out was under Adam’s mask…

Anyways, they’ve found a way through via a gap and send Blake in since she can fit through/see in the dark. At first, it all looks clear and with no Dust around they can just blast their way through. But things quickly change as Blake encounters the Geist Grimm. As such, Harriet breaks the wall with her weapon, which seems to give her cybernetic armor. Nice! Before they can give chase, however, they are confronted by some kind of... ugh… bug Grimm. Centipedes maybe? Evil caterpillars? IDK, but they’re creepy as Hell and with my fear of bugs, you can only imagine how much of a joy this was for me.

Cue the action sequence! We get to see some of the upgrades as Yang can now attach miniature bombs to the Grimm that she punches, while Ruby can turn her scythe blade around which increases her trajectory. JNR, Elm, and Vine also get into a fight and we see that the blades on Ren’s guns now have grappling abilities. But we also get to see what the Ace-Ops can do. Marrow has a boomerang/sword/gun hybrid and seems to be able to freeze things… not like with ice, just stop them from moving. Elm can root herself in place while Vine is more or less Mr. Fantastic from Fantastic Four, but it looks like only with his arms. Harriet has a Speed Semblance, something that Ruby excitedly points out since she too has a Speed Semblance. Make a note of that for the end kids!

Back with Qrow and Clover, they’re facing the Geist as Clover tells everyone to head for his location. Unfortunately, it’s able to possess a boulder-sized chunk of ice and begins to have more form the body. Qrow sees that a metal grate is going to collapse due to this and just barely warns Clover, but the Geist is able to go down further into the mines. Qrow reveals his Bad Luck Semblance as to why he was able to warn Clover as well as how he can’t 100% control it. But Clover reveals his own Semblance, which as we all guessed, is Good Fortune. To say that Qrow looks less than happy about it, well… no, that seems pretty accurate. Less than happy.

Everyone reaches the location, but the Geist has already proceeded to add what I assume is Gravity Dust to its body. So they can’t just smash it the way that RNJR did in V4 since… well… I imagine that exploding Gravity Dust would NOT end well. Before RWBY or JNR can do anything, Ace-Ops is already on the move. It’s a really cool sequence! We get to see how well Ace-Ops works together, seeming to know each others strengths and able to coordinate ad improvise very well off of each other. It’s like with Team RWBY when they coordinate attacks, but there’s this more… professional, higher-skilled atmosphere when watching them in action. They also are able to coordinate knocking off the Dust Crystals and catching them before they hit the ground. It’s an awesome display that clearly has RWBY and JNR awed, and I imagine it’s going to inspire them for later on.

The battle ends with Clover using his fishing line to rip the Grimm straight out of its ice body and Harriet delivering the killing blow. Daaaamn. With the Geist gone though, Dust Crystals start to fall and Ace-Ops starts to round them up. Before Harriet can grab the last one, Ruby beats her to it with the usage of her Petal Burst. But this brings up something… interesting. Harriet helps Ruby up, but she also points out that compared to other Speed Semblances she’s seen, Ruby’s Semblance… doesn’t appear to be Speed Based. Or at least, it’s not the main thing. There may just be something more to it. We don’t get a lot of time to ponder it though as Clover reports the mission as accomplished. But we don’t end on a happy note. We see Forest dropped off back in Mantle… where he runs into Tyrian. Our episode ends with Tyrian striking with his tail, and I think you can figure out Forest’s fate without me needing to say it.

Review

So far… this is my least favorite chapter. But that’s not saying much when we’re only three chapters in. And even then, I really enjoyed this one!

Let’s go over the outfits and upgrades first. It… was a little underwhelming. I was hoping for some more character stuff like Blake debating on cutting her hair and thinking about where she is now compared to back then. Instead… we just have her looking into a mirror. Jaune we at least saw tracing his fingers over his Pyrrha sash. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the sequences fine and I LOVE the results! Everyone looks so good! Even Jaune, who’s new hair I hated the most looks great! I just wanted… well, a little bit more. Still, very least nothing drags like they’d run the risk of if they did extend it, so it is what it is. The upgrades are all fantastic as well! Not sure if we’ve seen all of them, but Ruby, Yang, Jaune, and Ren’s? Love ‘em~!

I also wish that we had more follow-up after the last episode regarding Ruby. I’m happy that Yang and Oscar did question it and I liked Blake and Weiss voicing their support for Ruby. But we don’t get to hear from Ruby about how she feels about her own choices. We can tell that she isn’t happy, but we don’t get to hear her talk about it. I know, that’s kind of her thing and it’s gonna be a matter of when the floodgates finally break open. Still, I just wish that we could hear her perspective about it, but I guess we have to wait. But I did like it being brought up and Oscar asking about it being like what Oz did to them. Take that people who called it bad writing!

Those nitpicks aside, this episode was great! We get to truly see the Ace-Ops in action and they are fantastic! Especially at the end! All of them come off as very likable and have this sense of comradery between them. They work together incredibly well, feeling very coordinated and in tandem with each other. Might be because they’re a military unit, but still. My favorite one so far is probably Harriet since imo she has the most personality with her competitiveness, but has this older sister kind of vibe. Marrow is probably a close second though, especially with how he points out how Faunus are put down by Atlas’ system. It might have been his weird way of making Weiss feel better and not put all the blame about her complacency on her since it’s very much a society issue. It was nice to see someone who seems to be on top despite his status recognize the problem is still very much existent.

Speaking of, there’s a lot of good subtle things in this episode regarding the SDC. We see Weiss push snow off a crate, and her face when she sees the company initials just screams guilt. We see her express this regarding how she used to be and how her father treated the Faunus as she recalls his anger when the accident happens. Speaking of, the possibility of it being where Ilia’s parents died? Nice! Blake’s unnerved reaction as she recognizes where they are and how she clearly feels sad about the lives lost shows how dedicated to Faunus Rights she still is and how much better her and Weiss’ relationship is. We’re likely gonna see the true darkness of the SDC this volume especially after seeing Adam’s scar/brand, and it ain’t gonna be pretty for either girl, so it’s good to have that solidarity between them.

The Mines looked like… well, a mine. So not much to say on the design work, but it was good. The fights were great, especially with Ace-Ops. Music was good, both the score and the new vocal track that played, as brief as it was. I know it's WAAAAY too early, but�� SOUNDTRACK NOW PLEASE! The pacing was good. Some nice bits like Bumblebee flirting, Jaune and Nora pouting at Elm’s comment about them not dying, Ruby fangirling over Harriet’s Semblance, Qrow’s still lingering self-loathing about Team STRQ and then meeting a guy who has Good Luck powers. There are just so many good things in this episode. I still have my nitpicks like what I mentioned above, and the ‘Nora compliments Ren and gets mad when he changes the subject’ scene because it’s just so… predictable and not funny, cute, or insightful. I’d have cut it personally. But nothing in this episode was badly done. It was standard RWBY quality, which is great~

Last thing that I can think to note is Ruby’s Semblance. As we learn from Harriet, there’s more to it going on than Ruby may have believed. And… I am all for this! It’s been said multiple times how Semblances constantly grow and evolve over time, and we’ve seen that with people like Weiss. It’s been debated a lot about how it doesn’t seem like Ruby’s Semblance is simple speed with rose petals trailing her since at least Volume 4. What is the true extent of her Semblance? I don’t have an exact idea, but I do believe that the rose petals play a part in it. Especially since my headcanon for a long time is that Summer’s Semblance is being able to turn/scatter into rose petals. Which… has me concerned considering the “Thus Kindly She Scatters” inscription on Summer’s grave. Does Ruby have a similar ability? IDK, but I’m excited to find out~!

Chapter Four Predictions

So as it turns out, the thumbnail/description for this episode came out the same day as the premiere. So I have a good idea of what’s likely going to happen. Going off the title, ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ I think that this is going to mark the return of Jaques Schnee. I know, I hate it too, but it was gonna happen sooner or later. Makes sense since he’s likely going to launch some kind of campaign in Mantle and stir up trouble there that’s likely gonna effect RWBY’s efforts to help the city. Especially for poor Weiss cause as Chapter 2 demonstrated, Mantle does not have a happy view of the Schnee Family. Not sure if we’ll see Mama Schnee or Whitley, though the latter has a good chance, but yeah, asshole dad may very well be making his return. I hope that Weiss kicks him.

But on the upside, due to that and them being in Mantle, I think that we might have a very good chance of Robyn finally appearing. Chapter 4 feels like a very good place to bring her in and let her counter Jaques efforts, as well as letting us see what she and her allies can really do. She is Robin Hood after all, so she’s probably up for some thievery and mischief! We also might hear about Tyrian’s murder spree cause that’s probably gonna cause some tension between Mantle and Atlas. It’s gonna be Beacon all over again kids!

Episode Stats

Favorite Character: Harriet Bree and Marrow Armin Favorite Scene: Ace-Ops vs Geist Least Favorite Scene: Nora and Ren scene in the mines Favorite Voice Actor: Anairis Quinones (Harriet Bree) Favorite Animation: Harriet activating her Semblance against the Grimm Bug things Rating: 7.5/10

Final Thoughts

Overall, competent episode. Not my favorite since I felt it was lacking a lot of the tension and drama of Chapter 2 and the draw-in power of Chapter 1. But by no means is it a bad chapter. It accomplishes all that it set out to do and did it well. It fleshed out the Ace-Ops and made them more interesting characters that you want to see more of. It’s a fun episode that may not progress much in the way of plot or drama outside some minor bits, but it was an enjoyable watch. Which at the end of the day, is all that I could ask for~

#rwby #rwby7 #rwby reviews #callie reviews

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arecomicsevengood · 5 years ago

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Is This How I See Jaime?

Objectively speaking, I am not that old. Still there’s no getting past the fact that I am getting older every day, like everybody else. I might not be at the point where my body betrays my age, where I ache all the time and grunt when I stand, but my mind still carries with it the weight of decades of lived experience, and this can at any moment make me want to lie down.

There are few artists that capture the feeling of aging quite like Jaime Hernandez. Partly this is because of his working method. No one else does what he does, making serialized comics for close to forty years, that tell stories with the same characters. These are not truly STORIES, utilizing flashbacks that provide crucial context to events and create literary effects, even as the overall narrative they tell moves forward in time and builds an attachment between reader and character comparable to long-running television series. Still, when broken up into serialized installments in issues of Love And Rockets, it can frequently feel like nothing is happening. Often, what you get in an individual issue is around fifteen pages, split between multiple pieces focused on different characters. These fragments are focused, compressed in a manner closer to cinema than television, but you’re still only getting what might amount to three to five minutes depicted on-screen. With a few exceptions, what you get in an issue is not a complete short story with a beginning, middle, and end. For all the influence the Hernandez Brothers have had on alternative comics, reading the people they’ve influenced will not prepare you for how much Love And Rockets is modeled off of serialized comics, and how much of its power it draws from continuity and extended engagement.

This pacing demands a certain level of expectation-free interaction, which is crucial to deep relationships. It’s worth noting Jaime’s strips run alongside his brother Gilbert’s work, which is similar in some ways, but by no means the same. Gilbert’s body of work is a lot more complicated, due in part to how prolific he is, the meta/self-referential/self-deconstructive elements of the stories he’s telling, and also how he draws tits like Mark Newgarden draws noses, that just keep getting larger. He deserves a deep critical reading, but I don’t have the energy, money, or time to keep up with him. Running the two brothers’ work side by side makes Love And Rockets implicitly about family, which then in turn becomes a subject each cartoonist explicitly makes work about. And not just “chosen” family, but the actual people who’ve known you your entire life. Which is, inherently, a concept which both means more the older you get, and remains somewhat alienating. As a reader, it helps to be prepared to extend to Love And Rockets the goodwill one would a family member, to begin to get on its level.

On a superficial level, making work about family seems somewhat conservative and nostalgic. That’s not to suggest it’s not valuable, or worth fighting for. There’s just a certain adjustment of values or attitudes a reader needs to make to get on board with the work, that might be at odds with the punk rock alternative comics reputation that precedes it. The comics themselves are built on a formal language of cartooning that’s older and out of fashion: Sixties Ditko comics, Lil Archie, Dennis The Menace Goes To Mexico. This adds to a feeling of being about aging in a way younger art cartoonists inspired by their same-age immediate peers can’t get to. For instance, I love Olivier Schrauwen, and I can see the influence Yuichi Yokoyama has on his work, and I view the two of them as peers in dialogue, creating the future of comics, which creates a totally different reading experience than I get reading work that feels more in dialogue with the past. The formal choices of the Hernandez brothers, including that their work appears for the first time in serialized comic book formats, calls conscious attention to history. Consciousness of the past hurts, and this truth is a huge element of the plots and themes of Jaime’s work.

It’s the sheer graphic strength of Jaime’s drawing that enables it to stick in the memory. He’s able to capture a tiny gesture and render it iconic through use of line and spotted blacks. The precision he brings his images gives them a certain ease of recall. This is the crux of a two-page spread at the climax of The Love Bunglers where, as a bunch of different stories and images are recalled, now rendered at different angles, they’re all there in your consciousness, in a mix of your memories of the comic and your memories of your own individual life. It’s a hugely cathartic climax.

However, both Gilbert and Jaime have this aspect to what they do that can easily frustrate a reader, and it is seemingly inextricable from the core of their power: Once a point is reached where you can easily follow along, and a satisfying conclusion to a story occurs, the next several issues will completely destabilize that and you will again not know what exactly is going on. For instance, if you read the Perla La Loca collection, collecting the “Wigwam Bam” and “Chester Square” graphic novels, by the end of it, you will have a very exciting experience that should convince you Jaime Hernandez is one of the greatest cartoonists in the world. Reading the Penny Century collection of the work that followed, plenty of stories will leave you feeling like he lost his touch, or is spinning his wheels. At the end of the book, and the “Everybody Loves Me Baby” story, you’re knocked flat on your ass again, but if you had read the original comic books as they came out, who knows if you would’ve stuck it out that long.

This, by the way, is one of the most realistic things there is. Life’s “things just keep happening” quality will fuck you up time and again. While I haven’t given up on life just yet, I have stopped reading Love And Rockets a few times. I’m not the sort of reader who sticks with a series out of inertia. I have always been hyper-aware of the value of my comic-book buying dollar, and therefore pretty fickle. If I read two issues straight of a comic that feels like it’s treading water, I would be done with it. I’ve gone back and picked up things after the fact and filled in gaps, or I’ve switched to reading trade collections checked out from the library. I bought the first two issues of the recently relaunched Love And Rockets volume 4 in one go, realized that it was continuing stories from Love And Rockets: New Stories, and didn’t go back for more, put off by the stories’ continuation from the previous volume.

It’s only now, with the release of Is This How You See Me and Tonta, that I am reading the stories that followed up The Love Bunglers in a complete form. They blew me away. The effects Jaime’s going for at any given moment may be subtle, but they accumulate, and this accumulation then becomes the true effect, and why I analogize it to aging: There’s this sheer weight that results from how things just continue to happen, and each time they hit you with what feels like more force, even as the moments themselves are minor ones. This is a true-to-life feeling that is very hard to capture. It’s present in the relentless pace of Charlie Kaufman’s masterpiece Synecdoche, New York, but that is a movie too intense to rewatch for many. Jaime’s work is built around you returning to it, which means it has to be somewhat inviting, and include levity.

Is This How You See Me focuses on the characters of Maggie and Hopey, introduced in 1981 as teenagers, now presumably in their mid-fifties, happily married to other people but still weighing the possibility of cheating with their ex. The characters return to a “punk rock reunion” in their hometown, to reminisce on the past with old friends, and old characters we haven’t seen in years appear, visibly older than when they were last drawn, but still recognizably themselves. This plot lends the comic some elements of nostalgic fan-service that I intellectually feel an aversion to. It feels almost like the plot is designed transparently for those purposes. Bringing back old characters would strike me as a crass project in the pages of X-Men or Legion Of Super-Heroes, but the naturalism of Jaime’s approach means that it allows him to show me things I legitimately haven’t seen in a comic book before. It’s probable they’ve been in movies or books, but I would argue they work better in comics.

For instance, there’s a scene where the reunited cast are showing each other photos on their phones. This is a normal thing people do, and so surely it has been depicted in a film. But in a comic, there’s this weird meta element to it. Smartphones have text message conversations appear in little word balloons, right? The word balloon being a technique comics used to depict speech, as part of their normal communication system of images. Then, when interacting in physical space, people show pictures to each other, using this device they usually use for the mimesis of speech over distances, but they’re communicating using pictures to show what their life is like. Which is what the comic itself is doing more generally. So, there’s there’s this semiotic quality to the gesture of the outstretched hand with phone in it which feels really profound when depicted in comics, while it would feel sort of stupid and uncinematic in a movie, where the aging theater audience would have to squint and ask their neighbor what is being shown in the text message they’re seeing on screen.

Similarly, we see the married couple of Maggie and Ray, separated from each other for the length of the weekend, fretting over how much they should be in communication, drafting texts and deleting them. There’s an intimacy people who live with each other share, where much of what they encounter apart from the other person they want to talk to them about, because to be close to another person is to have them in some ways always present inside your head. Depicting the writing of a text, and then the decision to delete it, captures both the intimacy of a couple and the intimacy of one’s own private thoughts, in a way that only a form with the intimacy of a comic is able to depict effectively. Prose alone can’t capture the fluctuations of posture and self-presentation which is the heart of deleting a draft.

Concern for one’s image is depicted as well in the title pages to individual chapters, showing characters taking pictures of themselves in mirrors with their phones. These pages seem to depict not so much the cultivated selfie but the self-awareness of the drafting process, the titles above them taking on a certain poetry, built around the words spoken to oneself unconsciously that are the opposite of the language one chooses to send in a message to convey a precise thought.

This stuff really impressed me, and it all fits within a language of small gestures. While there are tons of books that are about how connection works in the digital age, it also always feels like that stuff is a commentary on how young people live. I’m not sure I’ve seen anything as interested in how people in middle age use these devices. Of course, it’s possible examples exist in work targeted to older audiences, and I just missed it because it wasn’t marketed to me.

It was actually Jaime’s other 2019 book, Tonta, that spoke to me more. Here, the aging the book is about is a coming-of-age thing about a high school student, and the book has this spirited youthful quality to it from the outset. While other, darker, plot elements unfold as it goes on, what was interesting to me is that the noir-like narrative that exists as a counterpoint in the finished book might not have even seemed part of the same story to a reader of Love And Rockets, where the character nicknamed Tonta just sort of suddenly emerged. There’s even a few pages in this collection given over to narration by Ray, who otherwise doesn’t appear in the book. These elements don’t seem dissonant or like they don’t belong. It just makes the book itself feel loose, like it feels as free and exploratory as a teenager looking for something to do. Placed together inside a book, the disparate threads become united by having a main character to pay attention to how developments of the plot affect her. The book has a real tonal arc as it unfolds, and the way the book gets you in its grip from such a goofy start seems to replicate how the stories about the Maggie character developed over time, here captured in miniature.

The sum of these two books will at some point only be a portion of a future volume of the Love And Rockets library, the formatting of the Perla La Loca and Penny Century books I mentioned earlier. There are portions from recent issues of Love And Rockets that are natural continuations and codas from these books, and what tapestries these fragments will be woven into is unknown to me. Another gutpunch could be just around the corner or years in the offing. There’s really no way to know what the future holds.

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