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heatherthetiredwriter · 4 years ago

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The Skrill

So @noctusfury asked me a question recently, and it's actually been something I've been wondering for a while, but I was just too lazy to figure it out. I'm finally going for it now, so here we a-go.

The question had a few layers and was honestly great fun for me to find the answers too, because I love going the extra mile (for knowledge stuff, never in the physical sense.) The question was, can you ride a Skrill? (And then what would you have to wear in order to not ya know, die?)

The most obvious answer is plot armor. It solves everything. It's the writing equivalent to hitting things with a hammer in the Sims. But surprisingly enough, even though all the characters in How To Train Your Dragon and all the spin off shows have a ton of plot armor, no one ever rode a Skrill. The two closest times were when Dagur was using the Skrill to fire at Hiccup by pulling on ropes tied to where it's wings connected. (Le badly recorded fight right below, why? Just because making thing's longer sometimes makes it seem like you know more)

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One important thing about this video is that it is one of the few times the plot armor fails and someone gets the consequences of playing around with Electricity. (The other two times I can think of is Spitelout being shot in the head by the Skrill and speaking gibberish for the rest of the episode and Astrid temporarily going blind.)

The only other instance where someone is almost riding a Skrill is with Hiccup and Toothless. This one makes absolutely no sense, and to this day still ticks me off.

In the big ending fight of How To Train Your Dragon: the Hidden World, Toothless and Hiccup are flying, and all these Deathgrippers are attacking them, Hiccup says they need to get out of the situation, and Toothless does this...

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You have no idea how much this bothers me. First off, Hiccup has a metal leg, which is connected to a metal sort of stirrup, and not to mention all the other metal he wears. The lightning that Toothless makes is powerful enough to knock off all the Deathgrippers, but it does nothing to Hiccup, who wears FREAKING METAL! HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD! Or at least several years burnt and injured. But no, he’s got plot armor. (Yes, you can argue that Toothless' scales protected him, like they do with the fire, but wouldn't protect Hiccup to that extent.)

Which finally, leads back to our question, what would one wear when Riding a dragon that is constantly gathering and shooting lightning?

Most of the Electrical insulators that would keep a dragon rider safe while Riding on a Skrill would be stuff the dragon riders canonly don't have in the movies, while great Electrical conductors are being worn as hard and belts.

One of the most well known insulators would be rubber. Unfortunately for the vikings, rubber wasn't invented until 1893, while Vkings would have been around from 793 AD to 1066. (Who knows, maybe they had rubber anyways? Or maybe you just don't care since HTTYD a fictional setting and you're fine with handwaving the fact that rubber wasn't invented until at least 827 years later.)

Most likely the second most know insulator is glass. Until rubber stole the show, it was the sole insulator. Though we don’t see much of it, we know that the vikings have glass (ex. Looking glasses.) However, wearing a glass suit would be highly uncomfortable (unless you’re like Cinderella or something) and would be just not be practical.

After spending a lot of time looking through one list of good, strong insulators and countless physics websites (mind you, I haven't taken physics and I'm only basing it off my rememberence of the ways cells and atoms work from Biology class) I think I found one that vikings would have and that wouldn't break as easily as glass would. (but I haven’t given up on the glass thing)

(And just one more time, I'm not a scientist, I'm just a girl with basic understanding of words who can Google stuff, don't take my word as fact. I'm sure that some scientist could find a better solution, but this is the best I could come up with in two hours.)

For armor, I have an idea, but that idea needs to be processed and stuff like that, because so far you couldn't move in it, but, for regular clothing items that you could wear that would at least protect you from it.

(Okay, random fact time, skin is actually a good insulator... it's just some of the waters in our body aren't... they are conductors... so if you wanted to be super creepy, your rider could wear human skin.... but uhhhhhhhhhhh.... let's stick with the child friendly option for now...)

The outfit would have to use four items. Quartz fibers, Quartz (mostly for where anything metal would have been), Leather, and Cotton. (Yeah, leather and Cotton are good insulators too.) I would suggest Cotton undergarments (by which I mean undershirt and probably underpants), and then leather over it, with quartz fiber at least over your chest and around your head (quartz fibers can be more of a roll of metal looking thing, or a soft fabric, though for the outer details I'd suggest the metal looking thing). Top it off with some tiny quartz accents, and BAM!

You’re a crystal Princess (or prince), who in theory wouldn’t die while riding your beloved Skrill. (That’s right, this is all in theory, I could be dead wrong.)

But for a hot second, let's assume I'm right, and you don't die from the millions and millions of Watts of electricity that your dragon produces, how exactly does one ride a Skrill?

This one is actually really simple (and it was sort of inspired from Hello Future Me's video on how Skrill account shoot lighting, you should probably watch that if you wanted to know this much on Skrills.)

As he points out in the video, the crown, on the head of the dragon is the only place where the spikes don't attack the deadly lighting.

Now back to that Dagur controlling the Skrill video (haha! I knew there was a good reason I put it in here!) (also, I tried to get a picture of what I was talking about, but it's nearly impossible to get the quality to where you can see it.)

Dagur had the leather strap on the area right below the crown, where there is a few feet before the spines that draw the metal start up. You have two options here.

The Skrill obviously doesn't shock itself, so ride barebacked but be careful not to lean on it's spines or kick your feet (sitting there would put your feet where the wings connect to the body, which is the where Tim from Hello Future Me suggested they store up the energy, so kicking it would make the Skrill release it.)

Or you could make a wooden type chair (with a back, this is important. Leaning on those spines is not good. So you’d be the weird one with a wooden saddle, but hey, you’d be safe. (Leather saddles work okay too, but almost always have metal, and you don't want that.)

So yeah, handwaving the part where you probably couldn't get on a Skrill in the first place, the clothes would be uncomfortable and hot, you would get shocked more than once no matter what you are wearing, that we've only ever seen one Skrill, and that you couldn't bring metal weapons with you, and that I'm probably overlooking something because I'm tired and can't think straight, there you go!

There is your super long answer Noctus Fury. That was actually a lot of fun. (so about the length... I started writing it when I had no clue what my answer would be, so the beginning part is mostly just my thought process.) But yeah, that's all, I hope it helped????

I put Tim's video in, it's super short, you've probably already seen it, but it's great.

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#httyd #how to train you dragon: the hidden world #dragons: riders of berk #dragons: race to the edge #lightning #skrill #science #dagur #dagur the deranged #hiccup #toothless #hello future me

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icaruscreates · 5 years ago

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Writeblr Life Weeks

Day 1

“About me”

Let’s get this out before my meds knock me out again xD Was originally going to do a face reveal but thanks to the flu, I'm a puffy eyed mess. So I finished a self doodle instead

My name is Anika Pavin and I run this blog and dahl-my-life which was my old Writeblr page. I’m not sure how long I’ve been in the community, I’ve been lurking for awhile due to social anxiety

I’m a puppy and cat mama and considered a starting Green and Kitchen Witch. Who is also dyslexic so bare with me at times.

My crazy writing journey started around eight years old in an attempt to connect with my new stepmom and I’ve been writing ever since. silently sweeps those stories under a rug Writing and drawing have been a huge part of my life growing up. Though it wasn’t until later on that I decided I wanted to do both as a career. It took several friends and countless books to get me there. I want to tell stories that will entertain others while also helping them get through rough patches.

While I don’t have any finished WIPs, I do have several brewing. That’s the purpose of this new blog! To have a central hub for my stories.

I mainly write YA, both low and high fantasy, and the occasional attempt at science fiction and romance. (the last being mainly reserved for those cute moments in the stories lol) You’ll always see magic in my stories since I gave up trying to write without it xD

So explaining my WIPs will get a tad confusing. It’s something my co writer/editor, Landy, likes to tease about.

All of them are filed under the overarching title: Tales of the Nine, which is because they all coexist in the same universe just different Realms. So the series in this are:

Awakening

Star of Hope

Through the Fire

Circlet of Shadows

Codex ____ (You’ll see me talking about Codex Lunae and Codex Umbrae tbh)

They all have their own series of at least three stories (some are longer) and a few characters jump series to other ones when needed. I’d be spoiling it if I say why so you’ll just have to wait and see~

Awakening is my oldest standing WIP being about 13-14years old now? It’s gone through so many unfinished drafts that I finally had to set Nakeya’s story aside for Arabella’s story in Star of Hope. So happy I did that!

But ye, I should probably go rest again so I can stop being sick ;-;

Nice meeting everyone!!

#writeblrlifeweek #writeblr #anika rambles

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covirusgame · 5 years ago

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Hi! Need to escape the utter boringness of a minor apocalypse?

Have you consumed countless works of fiction depicting a massive disaster menacing all of humanity? Did you ever think you will ever live inside such a story? Isn’t all of this really weird to you?

Is the world ending? No? Yeah, but is society collapsing? What? Not more than usual? I see... But capitalism is definitely kicking the bucket right? Right? Oh... Well at least we have a virus spreading globally, so we are all isolated in our homes with nothing but our infinite minds and an infinite internet of things to do.

And sure, the pandemic is a sad, horrifying thing that is spreading suffering everywhere. The situation is dire for countless people and the more vulnerable among us are the ones that risk the most. We must all protect us and others, trust in the power of science and community and just get through it.

But we are humans! We adapt, we fight, we find solutions! And we laugh in the face of death, and find the ridiculous in the tragic. We make memes out of indescribable pain. We still listen to music when bombs fall on our cities. We make love in stolen moments during an uprising. And last but not least we make and play games.

So here is a little game I devised so that you, your grandparents and your kids can pass the time in this weird time we are all living in. Maybe in a month it will be entirely useless. Maybe it will take a year or more for a cure and the return to normalcy. In the meantime we can have some fun or at least waste some time together.

The game is called Covirus and is and forever will be free. After all we can all agree that nobody should pay anything for a cure to coronavirus when we will find it, so why should there be money in a single page of rules for a silly time-waster?

It’s also untested and brand new, but you can participate in its development by sending me feedback and suggestions. Please be kind, I never did anything like this and am very awkward with people. Let’s call the current version of the rules “Alpha 0.1″, then if there will be any improvements I will update this blog.

Without further ado, here are the rules:

1. Have fun together and safely! If you have reason to isolate yourself completely you can still play with others through a videocall or similar methods. Kinda like chess wonks exchanging messages with their moves and gloating underwhelmingly when they win.

2. You need:

A piece of paper, preferably of the squared kind. A whiteboard can do if you're willing to draw the playfield squares.

A couple of differently colored pencils, pens or markers. Pencils have an obvious advantage: you can erase mistakes.

A couple of six-sided dice. You can steal them from a monopoly box. Eat the rich! Or you can kinda make some folding and gluing paper or something. Or you can download a dice roller for roleplaying games. Whatever works for you!

A reason to be stuck playing this game instead of going out to eat pizza and hug someone cute. Like a pandemic. Or a family reunion. It's gonna be fine. No, You Are Wrong! ITSNOTONFIRE!!! ... Just play the game will ya?

3. It's a two player game and it's played on a 20 by 40 squares field. Player 1 starts from one of the shorter sides and Player 2 from the other.

4. Each player rolls a die to determine order of play. Whoever gets the highest number gets to start first (and be the virus) and the other player follows (and is the cure). Don't be mean to people that are the virus or have the virus. Just don't be mean generally. Really...

5. You play in turns and you throw the dice. The numbers that come out of the throw determine what you do according to the following list:

Any combination of non identical numbers gives you a shape to put somewhere on you side of the field. Let's say you roll a 4 and a 2? Draw in your color a 4 by 2 squares rectangle. If it is your first move it can go anywhere in the bottom line, if it's not it must be on the bottom line or adjacent to your other shapes. You can only draw on unoccupied squares.

If you roll a double 6 you get to fill an entire line with you color, even if you already filled some of those squares. You can only choose lines that already have some squares with your color and you can’t choose one that has squares with your adversary’s color. If no eligible lines are present you lose the turn!

If you roll a double 1 you fill a single unfilled square anywhere you want!

If you roll any other double number you don't get a rectangle. Multiply the two numbers together to get a number of contiguous squares to fill as you like! Obviously you still can only fill unoccupied squares.

You lose the turn every time you can’t follow the previous rules according to the dice you rolled.

6. You both take turns rolling dice and filling squares until there is no more space on the field and there are no more moves or it is clear that continuing will change nothing. Or you are freed from isolation and can return to your life.

7. The player that manages to fill the most lines completely wins!

8. That's it! Play again!

We’re done for now. Spread the game, don’t spread the virus and let me know your thought about this weird little child of mine I send out into the world.

With love and hope. D.

Disclaimers:

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/it/

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Italy License

That basically means I will not be mean to you if you share my work or make your derivative work from it while acknowledging mine, using the same license and not making any money off of it. Fair? Fair.

I only put this disclaimer here because I'm paranoid about people being jerks and dire situations like the one we are in currently bringing the worst out of humanity.

#coronavirus #covid19 #covid2020 #covirus #game #timewaster #free game

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hennyjolzen · 5 years ago

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by PAM GROSSMAN May 30, 2019

Pam Grossman is the author of Waking the Witch: Reflections on Women, Magic, and Power.

Witches have always walked among us, populating societies and storyscapes across the globe for thousands of years. From Circe to Hermione, from Morgan le Fay to Marie Laveau, the witch has long existed in the tales we tell about ladies with strange powers that can harm or heal. And although people of all genders have been considered witches, it is a word that is now usually associated with women.

Throughout most of history, she has been someone to fear, an uncanny Other who threatens our safety or manipulates reality for her own mercurial purposes. She’s a pariah, a persona non grata, a bogeywoman to defeat and discard. Though she has often been deemed a destructive entity, in actuality a witchy woman has historically been far more susceptible to attack than an inflictor of violence herself. As with other “terrifying” outsiders, she occupies a paradoxical role in cultural consciousness as both vicious aggressor and vulnerable prey.

Over the past 150 years or so, however, the witch has done another magic trick, by turning from a fright into a figure of inspiration. She is now as likely to be the heroine of your favorite TV show as she is its villain. She might show up in the form of your Wiccan coworker, or the beloved musician who gives off a sorceress vibe in videos or onstage.

There is also a chance that she is you, and that “witch” is an identity you have taken upon yourself for any number of reasons — heartfelt or flippant, public or private.

Today, more women than ever are choosing the way of the witch, whether literally or symbolically. They’re floating down catwalks and sidewalks in gauzy black clothing and adorning themselves with Pinterest-worthy pentagrams and crystals. They’re filling up movie theaters to watch witchy films, and gathering in back rooms and backyards to do rituals, consult tarot cards and set life-altering intentions. They’re marching in the streets with HEX THE PATRIARCHY placards and casting spells each month to try to constrain the commander-in-chief. Year after year, articles keep proclaiming, “It’s the Season of the Witch!” as journalists try to wrap their heads around the mushrooming witch “trend.”

And all of this begs the question: Why?

Why do witches matter? Why are they seemingly everywhere right now? What, exactly, are they? (And why the hell won’t they go away?)

I get asked such things over and over, and you would think that after a lifetime of studying and writing about witches, as well as hosting a witch-themed podcast and being a practitioner of witchcraft myself, my answers would be succinct.

In fact, I find that the more I work with the witch, the more complex she becomes. Hers is a slippery spirit: try to pin her down, and she’ll only recede further into the deep, dark wood.

I do know this for sure though: show me your witches, and I’ll show you your feelings about women. The fact that the resurgence of feminism and the popularity of the witch are ascending at the same time is no coincidence: the two are reflections of each other.

That said, this current Witch Wave is nothing new. I was a teen in the 1990s, the decade that brought us such pop-occulture as Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed and The Craft, not to mention riot grrrls and third-wave feminists who taught me that female power could come in a variety of colors and sexualities. I learned that women could lead a revolution while wearing lipstick and combat boots — and sometimes even a cloak.

But my own witchly awakening came at an even earlier age.

Morganville, New Jersey, where I was raised, was a solidly suburban town, but it retained enough natural land features back then to still feel a little bit scruffy in spots. We had a small patch of woods in our backyard that abutted a horse farm, and the two were separated by a wisp of running water that we could cross via a plank of wood. In one corner of the yard, a giant puddle would form whenever it rained, surrounded by a border of ferns. My older sister, Emily, and I called this spot our Magical Place. That it would vanish and then reappear only added to its mystery. It was a portal to the unknown.

These woods are where I first remember doing magic — entering that state of deep play where imaginative action becomes reality. I would spend hours out there, creating rituals with rocks and sticks, drawing secret symbols in the dirt, losing all track of time. It was a space that felt holy and wild, yet still strangely safe.

As we age, we’re supposed to stop filling our heads with such “nonsense.” Unicorns are to be traded in for Barbie dolls (though both are mythical creatures, to be sure). We lose our tooth fairies, walk away from our wizards. Dragons get slain on the altar of youth.

Most kids grow out of their “magic phase.” I grew further into mine.

My grandma Trudy was a librarian at the West Long Branch Library, which meant I got to spend many an afternoon lurking between the 001.9 and 135 Dewey decimal–sections, reading about Bigfoot and dream interpretation and Nostradamus. I spent countless hours in my room, learning about witches and goddesses, and I loved anything by authors like George MacDonald, Roald Dahl, and Michael Ende — writers fluent in the language of enchantment. Books were my broomstick. They allowed me to fly to other realms where anything was possible.

Though fictional witches were my first guides, I soon discovered that magic was something real people could do. I started frequenting new age shops and experimenting with mass-market paperback spell books from the mall. I was raised Jewish but found myself attracted to belief systems that felt more individualized and mystical and that fully honored the feminine. Eventually I found my way to modern Paganism, a self-directed spiritual path that sustains me to this day. I’m not unique in this trajectory of pivoting away from organized religion and toward something more personal: as of September 2017, more than a quarter of U.S. adults — 27% — now say that they think of themselves as spiritual but not religious, according to Pew Research Center.

Now, I identify both as a witch and with the archetype of the witch overall, and I use the term fluidly. At any given time, I might use the word witch to signify my spiritual beliefs, my supernatural interests or my role as an unapologetically complex, dynamic female in a world that prefers its women to be smiling and still. I use it with equal parts sincerity and salt: with a bow to a rich and often painful history of worldwide witchcraft, and a wink to other members of our not-so-secret society of people who fight from the fringes for the liberty to be our weirdest and most wondrous selves. Magic is made in the margins.

To be clear: you don’t have to practice witchcraft or any other alternative form of spirituality to awaken your own inner witch. You may feel attracted to her symbolism, her style or her stories but are not about to rush out to buy a cauldron or go sing songs to the sky. Maybe you’re more of a nasty woman than a devotee of the Goddess. That’s perfectly fine: the witch belongs to you too.

I remain more convinced than ever that the concept of the witch endures because she transcends literalism and because she has so many dark and sparkling things to teach us. Many people get fixated on the “truth” of the witch, and numerous fine history books attempt to tackle the topic from the angle of so-called factuality. Did people actually believe in magic? They most certainly did and still do. Were the thousands of victims who were killed in the 16th- and 17th-century witch hunts actually witches themselves? Most likely not. Are witches real? Why, yes, you’re reading the words of one. All of these things are true.

But whether or not there were actually women and men who practiced witchcraft in Rome or Lancashire or Salem, say, is less interesting to me than the fact that the idea of witches has remained so evocative and influential and so, well, bewitching in the first place.

In other words, the fact and the fiction of the witch are inextricably linked. Each informs the other and always has. I’m fascinated by how one archetype can encompass so many different facets. The witch is a notorious shape-shifter, and she comes in many guises:

A hag in a pointy hat, cackling madly as she boils a pot of bones.

A scarlet-lipped seductress slipping a potion into the drink of her unsuspecting paramour.

A cross-dressing French revolutionary who hears the voices of angels and saints.

A perfectly coifed suburban housewife, twitching her nose to change her circumstances at will, despite her husband’s protests.

A woman dancing in New York City’s Central Park with her coven to mark the change of the seasons or a new lunar phase.

The witch has a green face and a fleet of flying monkeys. She wears scarves and leather and lace.

She lives in Africa; on the island of Aeaea; in a tower; in a chicken-leg hut; in Peoria, Illinois.

She lurks in the forests of fairy tales, in the gilded frames of paintings, in the plotlines of sitcoms and YA novels, and between the bars of ghostly blues songs.

She is solitary.

She comes in threes.

She’s a member of a coven.

Sometimes she’s a he.

She is stunning, she is hideous, she is insidious, she is ubiquitous.

She is our downfall. She is our deliverance.

Our witches say as much about us as they do about anything else — for better and for worse.

More than anything, though, the witch is a shining and shadowy symbol of female power and a force for subverting the status quo. No matter what form she takes, she remains an electric source of magical agitation that we can all plug into whenever we need a high-voltage charge.

She is also a vessel that contains our conflicting feelings about female power: our fear of it, our desire for it and our hope that it can — and will — grow stronger, despite the flames that are thrown at it.

Whether the witch is depicted as villainous or valorous, she is always a figure of freedom — both its loss and its gain. She is perhaps the only female archetype who is an independent operator. Virgins, whores, daughters, mothers, wives — each of these is defined by whom she is sleeping with or not, the care that she is giving or that is given to her, or some sort of symbiotic debt that she must eventually pay.

The witch owes nothing. That is what makes her dangerous. And that is what makes her divine.

Witches have power on their own terms. They have agency. They create. They praise. They commune with the spiritual realm, freely and free of any mediator.

They metamorphose, and they make things happen. They are change agents whose primary purpose is to transform the world as it is into the world they would like it to be.

This is also why being called a witch and calling oneself a witch are usually two vastly different experiences. In the first case, it’s often an act of degradation, an attack against a perceived threat.

The second is an act of reclamation, an expression of autonomy and pride. Both of these aspects of the archetype are important to keep in mind. They may seem like contradictions, but there is much to glean from their interplay.

The witch is the ultimate feminist icon because she is a fully rounded symbol of female oppression and liberation. She shows us how to tap into our own might and magic, despite the many who try to strip us of our power.

We need her now more than ever.

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teenbasher · 6 years ago

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BLood's Thicker

Victorian Sebastian Moran fiction

Part 1. (mentions of racism & violence against POC & animals)

Explore Victorian Sebastian’s bias racism???? I don’t fucking know but I feel this has potential. & the subject matter, although uncomfortable & taboo, is interesting to explore.

Colonel Sebastian ‘Basher’ Moran 1st Bangalore Pioneer, explorer, author, hunter and basically best damn shot in the western world known to date.

This mean bastard has traveled through every continent known to man in the name of the queen’s service and during his travels, has perhaps bred as many babies as he has killed natives.

Sebastian is an educated man, clever, adventurer and charming when he chooses to be, unfortunately, he is also very violent, short-tempered, misogynistic, racist, alcoholic and an adrenaline junky who enjoys the killing of his fellow men and of animals.

if an animal draws breath he has killed it.

As any man he is flawed but What is peculiar about him, and not so much when you think about it, given his occupation. is that regardless of countless native women beds during his adventures, he has not once stayed long enough in a place to see the birth of any or his biracial children.

That is until one summer during his stay in Rhodesia, Africa.

he was sitting down to breakfast when suddenly got dragged out of his hotel room and was rushed to a village he stayed in a few months prior.

Sebastian was confused and indignant, screaming at the natives to release him before he shot them all dead. no one listened to him and he was dragged to a small hut where an elderly woman placed a small bundle covered by blankets in his arms.

being shaken by this Sebastian tries to push the baby back to her, shaking his head

“what the fuck? no thanks, I don’t.....”

“he is yours, sir”

the village’s translator interrupted him.

“he has to be, you are the only white man that has come through in an entire year. You must take him with you. he has no more living relatives in this corner of the world.”

“what does that have to do with anything? I can’t keep it, give it to some childless bitch, here, take it. It can not come with me”

Sebastian insists holding the baby out to them, wanting nothing to do with his son.

the natives refused to let him leave until he took the child with him. They said the baby was cursed, that he was a bad omen to the village.

They nearly drove Sebastian up the wall with their wild tales.

In the end, he accepted to take it with him, just to be allowed to fuck out of there.

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Having had no breakfast he was starving and a headache began coming on him.

making it out of the village and back into the city he was dying to get rid of the small bundle of flesh he carried in his arms.

His first instinct was to want to leave it in the first place he saw, he wanted to rid of it before it woke up and began crying.

Walking down the street, looking around for a suitable spot however, he flinches as his ears are assaulted with the sudden wailing of a small boy nearby.

Having his nerves shoot up instantly not helping the headache, it takes him a moment to realize his own child is also crying thanks to the stranger’s banshee sobs.

groaning he Looks down at his arms seeing the baby's animated expressions of discomfort followed by the ever-growing cries.

"What the fuck.....they are like hyenas calling out to one other....."

Looking around for a discreet place to leave the baby he hurriedly walks by an auction.

Being in the white European part of the place, anyway the sight is no great rarity, and he almost dismisses it entirely, if it wasn't for a small mixed boy in shackles being sold, that catches his eye.

smirking at the sight, he instantly wonders how much his own child could be worth and plants himself among the crowd to observe the spectacle.

Having the baby suck on his finger to keep him quiet, Sebastian covers his head as much as he can, occasionally swaying him subconsciously.

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As the action concludes Sebastian stays behind, walking over to the man who ran it.

"Oi, mate, are you buying them as well as selling then?" He smirks charismatically at the man

"I got one fresh out the oven, I'm looking to get rid of. How much would one like this go for?" He asks holding the baby out to the man.

The boy was exceptionally lighter than most mixed children he had seen peaks his interest.

"He's quite a fair one, I'll give you that, must of picked a pretty one to get those features on him....."

He smiles down at the child before looking back up at him.

"Sadly I can't take it, mate, nor will anyone, to tell you the truth, the lad would be worth a lot more if it was a tad older ya know?..... Could do some proper work. At least housework for those pretty ladies that look for cute servant children to parade around dinner parties like house pets" he shrugs

"Right now the boy is more of a burden than an investment and given the mortality rate, the risk just ain't worth it. No matter how fair skin and pretty features he got.....sorry......my advice to ya, since I suppose you helped make it, is this. Either leave him to die somewhere and save yourself many headaches or raise it a little, have it grow, teach it to do basic house chores, ya know, bring you cups and glasses, pour wine, wash dishes, that sort of thing. and when he is ready, rent him out to maiden ladies looking for exotic little pets every now and again. You'll get more investment back that way in the end. When it's old enough, say 15 or so, if it's fit, sell it off to the richest bidder you can and get your money's worth"

he smirks

"but for now he's pretty much worthless for about three to four, maybe five years.....some of 'em are slower than others.”

he shrugs

“Your choice mates, but that's all I can tell ya....."

Lighting a cigarate he pats the unfit single father on the back as he bids him good luck, and heads off.

Watching the man leave, Sebastian sighs, looking down at the boy.

"Hell, three to five years?.....what the fuck am I suppose to do with you for three to five years...." He frowns.

the baby blinks at him cooing.

rolling his eyes he goes on his way pondering over his situation and eventually deciding to gamble on a more profitable future for his darling boy Sebastian does something he never thought he would find himself doing in his lifetime.

Back at his hotel room figuring out how to change a fucking diaper.

#victorian sebastian moran #mine #colonel sebastian moran #heavily inspired by the hound of the d'uerbersvilles #mixed babies #victorian #period piece #sherlock holmes character inspired #sebastian moran #sebastian basher moran #racism #violence #unfit parent

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abundantchewtoys · 6 years ago

Text

Homestuck Epilogues Prologue, Page 2 reaction

The next part of the epilogue prologue. :P I wonder if Andrew has committed to this format for the entire piece, or if we'll shift to something else. I'd like at least one panel showing the author avatar typing this, but then again, he's dead like everyone else, and so, stuck in the bubbles. Speaking of, how could Aranea, Meenah and the other A2 trolls survive this? Will Jane use her revive powers on them to spare them a double death? As an aside, I'm glad the ==> arrows remain a thing even after the end of the story. Even though they're now mixed with simple >'s in the in-line commands. (We're mixing the story format up from the get-go, here.) I hope Rose's new apartment gets a detailed described. I'm expecting a lot of knitted ware lying around, for one. I also wonder how long it'll be until an OC is mentioned, and how much longer after until they get some sort of dialogue. Presumably it'll be the intermission-like dialogue, I mean us being shown what they say by John's or another's inner narration.

---

==>

"When you arrive at Rose’s apartment, you find her asleep on the couch. You slide the balcony door open, quietly."

If this was a fairy tale, John would kiss her awake. :P

But I fear the migraines might be exhausting her.

"Her eyes flutter open. She looks like a ghost, and not the kind of ghost that looks and acts exactly like an alive person."

Grim implications not withstanding, I'm reminded of Kanaya's first assessment of seeing her. "Skin as pale as a ghost!"

Wow, okay, so her condition is really nothing to sneeze at.

"All I’m trying to say is, I’m not backsliding, if that’s what you’re wondering."

So I guess the substance abuse, post-retcon, was still a thing, not just nipped in the bud by Vriska.

Well, it WAS a way for her to cope with her mom's death, that isn't something that just goes away by a slap on the wrist, even if it was on date night.

"ROSE: I struggled with substance abuse for a while, years ago. Remember?

JOHN: rose, jesus. i wasn’t going to accuse you of being a drug addict, and i didn’t fly over here to give you an intervention.

JOHN: it sounded like you had some important stuff to tell me, and the fact that you also seem to be sick is more than a little alarming!

ROSE: I wouldn’t say I’m sick.

ROSE: Just having spectacularly debilitating headaches as a result of my visions becoming more frequent.

JOHN: oh yeah.

JOHN: what are these visions you’re having?

ROSE: I’m a Seer of Light, John.

JOHN: i know."

I'm happy to see how mature John is being about all this. He's really grown into a proper adult.

Also, that they can still exchange sarcastic remarks shows the base of their friendship hasn't changed over the years.

"What are these visions you're having?", it's like John just became Rose's therapist. :P

"JOHN: so you mean like, your standard psychic visions about the future and stuff?

JOHN: what’s going to happen? should we be worried?

ROSE: It doesn’t technically pertain to the future. Well, not our future."

A potential future then? Or the future of the dead ghosts, their doubledeath?

I mean, I thought Rose's powers were meant to show the best possible future and how to get there.

That hopefully isn't implying that they're not... the main timeline anymore.

"ROSE: My abilities have broadened considerably beyond their previous horizon. They shed light on many unseen events. Past, present, future, in realities and frames of reference that have no intersection with ours at all."

And then Rose could see us, and all the fiction our universe has spawned. Including stuff about their clique! :P

"ROSE: It seems to be an unfortunate side effect of god tier abilities. They can advance at a rate beyond one’s physical ability to keep up with.

ROSE: Fortunately it doesn’t seem to be happening to anyone other than me."

So... what, could that mean Sollux & Mituna's psychic problems were explainable by a surplus of Doom powers, even though they weren't god tier?

... In other news, can they overload Lord English with Time?

"JOHN: yeah, can’t say i’ve noticed anything like that.

JOHN: or improvement in my powers for that matter."

He hasn't been practicing them either, I suppose. Then again, after you've drilled a hole to a planet core and moved an entire different planet to another dimension, as well as rewrote your own timeline, there's few plateaus left to grow towards.

"ROSE: It’s not about gaining additional power, so much as the gradual dissolving of the boundaries between your own awareness and that of your many doomed selves who perished in other timelines."

D'aaaahhhhh, that sounds a lot like what the sprites^2 experienced!

Actually, Davepeta mentioned something about this, didn't they? Something about become their best version through this process?

Didn't it have something to do with the Ultimate Riddle as well? Well, that would certainly quantify as something to know about "to learn what it all means".

But, I got to say, why would John be any less affected? He had doomed selves too, and this isn't just a Light thing, just because it has similarities to Rose's powers.

"ROSE: It’s a slow and apparently rather uncomfortable accretion of knowledge. Perhaps I’m the only one to notice any change, since my aspect explicitly relates to knowledge."

Mulling it over, I think the reasoning here is that, since there's so much knowledge to go around between the Roses of all timelines, she's getting more crammed inside her than anyone else.

So even if they don't just 'merge' into her, just increase the knowledge she can fall back on, and one point she'll reach a limit.

Sounds really painful and I don't want to imagine the migraines now.

Way to get screwed over by an otherwise very useful skill to have. That's Paradox Space for ya!

"ROSE: But in totality, I have pieced together a greater understanding of our present situation and all the events that led us here."

She has become self aware to an extent then. Useful, if they're going to have to fight English.

"ROSE: There’s a different scale I’ve come to understand. Another dichotomy that’s less... emotional, I guess?

ROSE: Consider, instead of the word “good,” using the word “essential.”

ROSE: And what exists at the opposite polarity from essential is...

ROSE: Something that is best not to contemplate."

Yeah, Paradox Space is much more impersonal than is 'good' for anyone.

The Horrorterrors are a good example, their game is a long and incomprehensible one.

And, if you don't fulfill your role in the timeline, you're basically fodder to use against LE. :/

It sounds to me, Paradox Space might be forcing them to join the cause or become doomed.

"ROSE: I really should cut it out, and just start from the beginning."

Once upon a time, in Paradox Space...

Blaperile has a theory she may know LE's backstory now, that would be a good story to tell here, but John already knows parts of it.

So maybe there's something new we'll learn.

"She points with purpose, as if to say, there. Right there, precisely, is where the green sun would be, if it still existed.

ROSE: The green sun is gone.

JOHN: what??"

Last time Rose pointed in a context with the Green Sun, she pointed away from it.

Oh yeah, they couldn't have known about Alternate Calliope changing the Green Sun into the Black Hole!!!

"ROSE: It has been destroyed. At least, from the current frame of reference it has.

ROSE: It still existed, and therefore in a way that’s hard to explain, currently exists, over a nearly infinite span of time, presiding over the birth and death of countless universes."

It's interesting how Universe C's timeline overlaps with the death of the Green Sun.

Does that mean Jade lost her First Guardian powers? (And GCATavrosprite too, I guess.)

Would she regain them, if she were to travel back to an earlier point in the timeline?

"ROSE: But this universe, our universe, is not one of them."

Oh, if Jade didn't have her FG powers, she would've noticed so, by now.

Unless the Green Sun's influence does something else. Well, for one, Earth C won't have its own First Guardian.

"JOHN: you saw this in a vision?

ROSE: No. Jade told me.

JOHN: she did?

JOHN: how does she know?

ROSE: She can’t draw from its power anymore. She no longer has the ability of a First Guardian.

ROSE: It has been this way for several years. I suspect she has kept this fact on the downlow, however."

... Oh, so she kept it secret for seven years. That's... huh.

Well, you know, they are friends, but even between friends secrets can exist.

She might not have wanted distress to grow, since the others wouldn't enjoy their Ultime Reward otherwise.

"JOHN: that’s...

JOHN: surprising, i guess?

JOHN: or maybe not. i dunno, it’s not like she tells me a whole lot these days."

Adults don't share as much as children... That's a sad fact for many.

"ROSE: It’s also not like she’s had any particular need to unleash the full fury of the green sun, not while she’s been gallivanting around with Dave and Karkat under whatever perplexing social arrangement they have settled on."

Heheh, confirmed for opacity! Just like how Dave & Karkat's initial "thing" never got assigned to a quadrant.

"JOHN: how did that happen?

ROSE: It doesn’t matter much, for our purposes."

Alternate Calliope confirmed for not appearing in this epilogue.

"ROSE: There was a cataclysmic event. A suicide strike by a very powerful being. Much like the one Dave and I attempted, once upon a time."

Remember that time, John? Can't believe Cascade could ever qualify for "simpler times", but here we are.

"ROSE: The entire sun was swallowed by a supermassive black hole.

ROSE: I digress though.

You press your eyes shut, just for a moment. Behind them you see a black hole so supermassive that it spans the width of eternity."

John is adding things up faster than usual!

I have to wonder whether his 'dream' was actually the memory of a doomed John, being swallowed by the black hole.

"ROSE: There’s really no route through this expository garden path that will adequately cushion you from the bottom line, John.

ROSE: You will need to travel back into canon and defeat Lord English."

'canon', pfffffff. I guess you could say, canon is everything inside the Green Sun's reach.

But oh boy, the implications of someone travelling back from beyond the end of the story!

I mean, I know we've been shown the path this'll probably take, ending with the kids inside the plot hole, and then Vriska using it on LE, after which... Something something.

But still, I can now imagine John travelling back to other places in canon.

Probably this time around, the panels in question won't be altered. I guess?

"> Shrug and try to look casual.

You pull off the most casual shrug that a guy has ever shrugged when being presented with the inevitability of his own fate. If Rose were looking at you right now, she would be totally convinced that you are approaching this topic with a level of nonchalance that is entirely plausible and genuine. You’re sure of it.

JOHN: yeah, i had a feeling that was going to come up again someday."

Classic John. Perfect response.

Can you imagine Frodo giving Gandalf the shrug like this?

... It's like Young K in MiB3. "M'Okay."

You know, if they were travelling back into canon, you could wonder how they ended up fighting Caliborn, since that was in a timeline outside the Green Sun's reach.

At least, I figure, since Universe C begetted the cherub session.

But then I thought of this: when Caliborn took over the narration, he made those things canon, and thus also the 'future scene' rendered with clay figurines where he defeats the kids!

"JOHN: when exactly is the point of no return?

ROSE: Today."

... Way to postpone this, Rose. I guess after today, the Black Hole swallows Universe C???

I can understand John trying his best not to think about having to fight LE, since semi-forced obliviousness is his forté, though.

"JOHN: why?

ROSE: Why what?

JOHN: why do i need to go back and beat him?

JOHN: i mean, sorry if this is a stupid question. i guess he’s a huge awful monster, and that’s just what you’re supposed to do with huge awful monsters. take them down for their crimes, and such.

JOHN: but why does he actually need to be defeated at all?"

Valid question, since LE made himself a staple of spacetime and all.

"to be honest, it’s been years since we’ve even bothered thinking about any of this, and everything seems...

> Take a look around and survey the current status of all life on Earth, which is totally possible to do from the vantage point of a single apartment balcony."

Ah, impossible command prompts, how I missed you.

Everything seems fine, until the black hole opens up in the sky and eats a frog that is your universe.

"JOHN: fine?

ROSE: Of course everything is fine here.

ROSE: We’re outside of canon now.

JOHN: yeah, i know. what does that actually MEAN though?

JOHN: are you saying this isn’t really happening?

ROSE: Of course it’s happening.

ROSE: Just because certain events take place outside of canon, it doesn’t mean those events are non-canon.

JOHN: oh."

I guess this is a way of saying: little is ever going to happen in Universe C that has effects in the parts of the multiverse that the Green Sun touches.

And vice versa.

Also, in a meta sense, for people not enamoured with Homestuck ending and writing their own endings, those efforts are not being discredited here.

"ROSE: In other words, there is an important distinction between events which can be considered to occur inside canon, outside canon, and those which are not canon at all.

ROSE: The day we went through that door and claimed our reward, we passed a threshold between continua marked by differing degrees of relevance, truth, and essentiality.

ROSE: Those are the three pillars of canon.

JOHN: what?"

Ah yes, a scientific exposition on the nature of fanfiction seems in good order right about now. :P

I'm taking a guess that the epilogues are "essential" to wrap up the huge dangling plotline about LE, but that doesn't mean they are THE truth about post-ending Homestuck.

Or even that the events in this story are really relevant to enjoy Homestuck proper.

"ROSE: Any event said to take place inside canon will have nonzero values of relevance and essentiality, while maintaining an absolute foundation in truth, by definition.

ROSE: Whereas events outside canon have diminished values of relevance and essentiality. Or, for the most part, can be considered neither relevant nor essential at all.

ROSE: But such events can’t be said to be untrue either. Instead, it’s better to regard their truth value as highly conditional.

ROSE: Are you still following?

> Say “oh, yeah. totally.”"

This is Andrew's version of the M3KYT mantra. "Just enjoy this story, folks!"

"JOHN: oh, yeah. totally.

ROSE: So to be clear, everything that’s taken place here on Earth C since we exited canon can be considered completely irrelevant, and for the most part, absolutely inessential. Yet none of it can be called untrue.

ROSE: At least, up until precisely today. "

So, yeah, they're going to become relevant to the story again, but that doesn't have to mean that Jane having usurped the Felt, as well as other events from the snaps and things we haven't even seen happen, are going to be given even a passing mention, hahah.

"ROSE: Events that are formally non-canon have no truth whatsoever, by definition.

ROSE: They may have relevance and essentiality values that are nonzero, or even quite high, but only as projections along an imaginary axis, resulting from highly subjective frames of reference.

ROSE: But due to those events having no truth, and thus carrying no real weight, the other properties are basically rendered meaningless."

Aka, fan fiction is not something to dismiss out of hand, but it isn't, like, a holy text.

"You can feel your eyes go wide as the gears in your head slow to a stop. The implications of what Rose is saying are as vast as they are completely incomprehensible. Your mind has just been BLOWN.

ROSE: John?

ROSE: Are you okay? Your pupils have gone quite wide, thereby facilitating the appearance that your mind has just been blown."

Ah John, he hasn't changed.

"JOHN: i just wouldn’t have thought to put all of this in such a jargony way.

ROSE: Sorry. That’s kind of what I do.

JOHN: it’s fine. i’m just a bit rusty is all.

JOHN: it feels like it’s been so long since i did, or even thought about... anything that mattered at all.

ROSE: Yes, the longer we live outside of canon, the more tenuous our relationship with canon becomes."

Aka, the fans are growing up and moving on, so additional stories in the same universe become less likely to be accepted as canon as time goes by. :D

"ROSE: As long as we live outside canon, everything that happens will technically be “real,” but only conditionally.

ROSE: There are certain crucial events inside canon which must happen in order to continue to prop up the legitimacy of events here on Earth C. "

Ooooooh, so Rose's saying they need to go back and fill up some plotholes, hahahahahahah. Glorious.

"ROSE: And you specifically, John, have a responsibility to make sure those events take place.

JOHN: and i take it that means going back and killing lord english?

ROSE: Yes.

ROSE: His defeat is the keystone to this entire continuity.

ROSE: Much like his life, in some sick way, governed the overall design of the bridge which that keystone was holding up.

ROSE: But without it, all of this falls apart. Every thing we’ve been through, in a way that’s impossible for a single mind to fully comprehend, becomes retroactively discredited."

They can't both have entered the Universe AND not have gone back to fight Caliborn at some point. Otherwise, their nature as being "the alpha selves" is cast into doubt.

Especially since John led them to Caliborn with retcon powers.

Of course there could be space retJohns flying about, but that's speculation, not (yet) truth.

"JOHN: so... reality will be destroyed, or something?

JOHN: hasn’t that already sort of happened?

JOHN: i mean, when all the black space started cracking?

ROSE: No, this consequence isn’t physical, or even a disruption of the timeline. It’s more of a conceptual unraveling.

ROSE: If you miss the chance to authenticate canon events, something will take place that’s a bit difficult to describe, but I’ve encountered a term for it.

ROSE: It’s called “dissipation.”

ROSE: Like, a notional fading. As if something, somewhere, is undergoing a process of “forgetting,” and we are what is being forgotten."

So I am definitely thinking this refers to the fandom, in subtext.

But does Rose refer to what happens in doomed timelines, to the folks that don't die but are erased with the timeline ending?

... "Dissipation Island" would suck as a reality tv concept.

ROSE: All ideas, people and their full potentialities, possible outcomes and their specific unfolding, all these things live inside conscious frameworks.

ROSE: The further removed we get from authentication of canon events, the less relevant they become, and they slowly fade from the conscious frameworks which kept them stable."

DEFINITELY a reference to the fandom.

"JOHN: so i just retcon-poof back to english and start like...

JOHN: brawling with the dude?

ROSE: Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t last a second."

You're not the fisticuffs kind of guy, John, those genes went to Jade.

"ROSE: You’ll need a team.

ROSE: Also, you don’t want to just dive headlong into a battle with his hulking adult form. That would be tactically foolish, and furthermore, would skip over some very important steps needed to authenticate canon."

So yeah, Rose is definitely in the process of skimming important details, like she did during the session.

She definitely seems to have a grasp on the requirements for success, but people being in the know hardly ever seems to be one of them.

"JOHN: like what?

ROSE: I mentioned that English’s defeat was the keystone to the continuity. But this is an oversimplification.

JOHN: yikes. well, we sure as fuck wouldn’t want to simplify anything."

Insta-Classic.

"ROSE: The true keystone, which is a necessary component of his defeat, is the juju."

Cal then? Blaperile thinks the Plot Hole. Or is it the sucker perhaps?

Cal needs to be filled with Caliborn's essence for LE to even exist in the first place, so...

"ROSE: The house-shaped object you stuck your hand in to gain your retcon powers.

JOHN: oh yeah.

ROSE: While empty, it resembles a gap. Like a hole in canon, whose only purpose is to be filled."

Oh. I stand corrected.

"ROSE: In serving that purpose, it grants one with the radical canon-altering powers that would be needed to fill it.

ROSE: Once filled, it becomes solid. No longer a gap, but a serviceable, load-bearing wedge in our continuity.

ROSE: Like a keystone."

So, nice term, but a house-shaped keystone isn't that servicable. :P Neither is a mousepointer-shaped one, and the Sburb logo is both.

"ROSE: And once delivered to English and directed his way, it empties itself again, releasing its narrative-bridging payload."

Aww yeah, so they WILL be set free. Glad to have that out of the way.

"It functions as a weapon, and in some manner will bring about his demise.

JOHN: in some manner?

ROSE: It’s a complicated artifact. As old and unfathomable as anything else in Paradox Space, like the green sun, or English himself. Don’t worry about it for now.

ROSE: The important thing is that, in the due course of your travels, you end up loading and unloading this weapon."

So, will nothing be done with Scratch's gun anymore then, & the cueball analogy that might have been able to defeat Lord English?

Are all other items rumored to be able to kill him real red herrings... Or will John need to travel back to the places we last saw them & collect them?

"JOHN: how am i going to do that?

ROSE: Once you set things in motion, it should just happen naturally through the narrative momentum of your journey. I’m really just warning you about it, rather than instructing you.

JOHN: ok. thanks??

ROSE: You’re welcome."

He won't be thankful after the fact, that's for sure. :P

"Rose looks at her phone. You recognize Kanaya’s distinct typing style in the window. Rose’s thumbs begin to fly across the keypad. She continues to text as she talks."

I'm guessing Kanaya is at work at this time, at the Mother Grub's cavern.

"JOHN: so if we’re going to go back and kill him in time to “authenticate canon,” i guess we have to get going soon.

JOHN: like today?

ROSE: Yes.

JOHN: are you sure you’re actually up for a fight though? no offense, but you’re looking a little worse for the wear.

ROSE: I’m not going."

I don't think that's possible, since Rose should be there for the fight.

They can't very well replace with Jasprosesprite^2, that's for sure!

"JOHN: oh.

ROSE: None of us are. Only you.

JOHN: what?? but you said... "

Uuuuhhhmm, but where could John even pick up living versions of his friends!

... Also, it would be rather awkward for a 23-year-old John to meet up with 8-to-10-years younger versions of his friends alone, wouldn't it?

"ROSE: John, this is the victory state.

JOHN: what the hell does that even mean."

Pfff, she means this is the 'good ending'.

"ROSE: When we went through the door, and passed beyond the threshold of canon, we effectively retired from bearing any responsibility for influencing canon events. We’ve all been sort of decommissioned as active players on the cosmic stage, with severely diminished relevance attributes."

Hah, so none except for John with his retcon powers can be expected to hold relevance to canon?

... Blaperile has a good point that this doesn't hold true for Terezi then.

Neither does it for Aranea, Meenah and Vriska!

But still, Vriska immediately went after LE... Even if Terezi has aged as much as John, that is just... Is John going to find 23-year-old doomed versions of his human friends somewhere?

"JOHN: but... couldn’t you all just come along anyway?

ROSE: We could. But it wouldn’t serve any purpose.

ROSE: It wouldn’t plug up the remaining dark spots in canon."

Yes, but, the commentary. Rose, think of all the things Dave could be commenting on!! Don't deprive us of that!

"ROSE: You’ll need a group of active players. Those still stuck inside the stream of canonic karma."

Like OCs? I mean, or the people I mentioned earlier.

Though Blaperile has a point, maybe he'll revisit LOMAX and pick his friends up there. Still, age difference!

"ROSE: Nothing too extravagant. Just different versions of us.

ROSE: Younger versions, from a particularly dysfunctional impasse in our journey.

ROSE: I can point out the exact moment in canon you should be disrupting, and how you should disrupt it.

ROSE: In fact, I’ve already written it down to spare you the trouble of remembering."

... I don't think he'll go and 'save' the people from the Game Over timeline, but then again...

Hah, Blaperile points out how this must be like Terezi's scarf, all over again. :P Nice.

... Wait just a goddamned minute. If he goes back and changes the Game Over timeline, there's an errant Aranea Serket he'll surely encounter!

Wow.

That.

Hah, that's actually very fitting, since it's John's native timeline.

Roxy's too, though. So he might just have her tagging along! :D

Blaperile's right, Game Over went as it did because of the absence of John!

I think that, if he can return and re-relevant all those doomed selves, a lot of people would really, REALLY like that development!

JOHN: huh.

ROSE: Is anything confusing about my instructions?

JOHN: no, i remember all this. it shouldn’t be a problem.

JOHN: it’s just weird to think about revisiting this. it seems like an eternity. like... we were all completely different people back then.

ROSE: I assure you we are all still fundamentally the same bunch of losers."

Heheheheh, that you are.

"Rose is ultimately right about that, the way she is about most things. You continue to scan the letter, and grimace slightly.

JOHN: should i really punch her in the face?"

That would be just so sweet, for Rose to get that kind of comeuppance through John. After all, she might have Jasprosesprite^2's memories from when she still lived now, too.

And Aranea killed her.

That would be the second time John comes in retconning a timeline, punching a Serket.

"JOHN: i felt kinda bad about it, last time i did that to someone.

ROSE: Yes. You absolutely should, and must, punch her in the face."

Oh yes, so essential. I'm just casually going to ignore John punching a younger woman. For one, she was at least 1 sweep older than the A2 trolls, and a millenia-old ghost besides.

"You exhale and turn the paper over in your hands. The other side is blank. You flip it back over, having fully processed the instructions drafted in the polished purple handwriting. You like how Rose still writes in purple, after all these years. Some things never change."

Awww.

"JOHN: alright. this seems straightforward enough.

JOHN: i mean, aside from the part where we all have to fight an invincible monster.

ROSE: He isn’t entirely invincible. He will be vulnerable to Dave’s weapon. I believe other gambits should present themselves as well."

Return of the eggsword! Nice!

And okay, the other supposedly "ultimate" weapons to kill LE with will still play a part too, cool!

(Spades Slick has dips.)

"ROSE: I don’t think it would serve the mission well for me to tell you exactly how it will go.

ROSE: But at least I can offer this bit of encouragement.

ROSE: If you follow my instructions, English will be defeated.

ROSE: It is an absolutely essential outcome.

ROSE: And essential, if you’ll remember, is the word we should be using instead of good."

So... What, LE won't really make a heel face turn, but does that mean that... :/ The fate of the other kids might not be pretty, is what I'm getting from this.

Quick John, engage your Dad mode! Protect them!

"JOHN: i see you’re advising we go after him when he’s young...

JOHN: i guess that makes sense.

JOHN: go get him before he gets all big and strong.

JOHN: like, kind of a surprise attack?

ROSE: Sure."

Let's go with that, says Rose.

"JOHN: that dude sucks.

JOHN: he was taunting me a while back.

JOHN: like, i think he WANTS me to come fight him?

JOHN: anyway, i just ignored him obviously, because i’m not a stupid idiot.

JOHN: but i guess today will be his lucky day."

So, if we assume Caliborn spent the same amount of time waiting for John, he's already an adult, but a scrawny one.

"Her eyes are closed and her hands are folded in her lap. She’s not asleep, but she looks wasted—like all the life in her has been sucked out through a straw. Like she’s insubstantial."

"You can’t believe how sick she looks. How did this happen to her?"

I'm... getting some very worrying signals here.

"JOHN: i should probably get going and let you rest.

JOHN: we can talk all about it when i get back. i’ll fill you in on how it went, hopefully you’ll be feeling better by then.

ROSE: Oh. Um."

:/ I hope she isn't going to die on him now, this is supposed to be the victory state!

Blaperile thinks John might not come back, but that would be a dick move for Rose to pull on him. Even if he can force another victory state from all this!

"ROSE: Yeah.

JOHN: is something wrong?

Rose opens her eyes and looks at you, but she says nothing. Just looks.

JOHN: i’m not scared, if that’s what you’re worried about.

JOHN: you already said we’re going to defeat him. so, nothing to fret over, right?

ROSE: Yes. You...

Something flickers through her eyes, almost too quick to catch. When she smiles at you, it’s warm and sincere.

ROSE: You’re going to do great.

Rose slides her arms around you. After a while, she releases you from the embrace and gets up to fetch her bottle of pills. She pauses at the bedroom door to look at you one more time.

ROSE: Goodbye, John.

She closes the door behind her."

... That is REALLY not comforting.

Bathrooms & pills are NOT a good combination in any type of fiction.

"> Look at the letter.

Your run your thumbs along the edge of the paper. Is this really it? One hug from Rose and you’re off to face your destiny? The instructions in the letter are clear, but you aren’t sure precisely what to do next. Inertia and indecision keep your feet planted firmly on the carpet.

Then, as if directly answering your quandary, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s a text from Roxy."

So, I'm going to park how I feel about Rose's... condition, and what she might think to do with it.

And I'm going to go and be glad that Roxy texts John at this time, as I hope that she, at least, will join him on the journey.

"> Read text.

It sounds important. You get up to go without even thinking about it. You exit through the sliding glass door and leave it open behind you."

Eep, so the situation at her end is dangerous to? ... Don't tell me that it has only now just happened that Jane was kidnapped by the Felt, and Roxy & Calliope went out to get her.

---

So, this chapter definitely wasn't all shits 'n giggles, that's for sure.

I'm going to have to process this a little.

At least it was great to have Rose & John interact again.

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #john egbert #rose lalonde #lord english #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert

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writtenwordsoffic · 7 years ago

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An Absentminded Encounter - Collab - Jughead x reader

Masterlist

@idle-lanes@sgarrett49@murderyoursoul@moonlight53@redhairedoddity

So this is something new and different. Back in the day (yes I'm that old people) we called this a boomerang story. Where one writer writes one part and so on and so on. So I'm happy to have @lostnliterature write this with me as she is a good one (newer to the game on here) and hopefully you guys like it as well.

It is loosely based off of the lyrics of "Mine" by Taylor Swift.

@lostnliterature will be posting about this as well so give her some love as you guys have to me and it would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading as always!

The *ding* brought memories back to him in a flood. Nights where all he drank was coffee to get him through writing. Burgers that he enjoyed countless times, while enjoying the company of his friends. Time's where a passersby would make snide comments about his family. But Jughead Jones was used to the past. What he needed was a new adventure. And while entering that new diner, he found one.

I had been going to Glo’s for years, basically ever since my parents would let me ride the Bainbridge Island-Seattle ferry on her own. It’s a quaint little diner and coffee house on Olive Way in the Capitol Hill district of Seattle. Now the diner is only a few blocks from my job, making it my ‘to go’ lunch break spot. I was quick to notice the new face in the diner I frequent, a slim looking boy with black curly hair hidden under a strange looking beanie. It’s not uncommon to see unfamiliar faces in the coffee house by any means, but there is something different about him. I can tell that he easily fits into the seattle lifestyle, but there is also something about him that tells me he isn’t a native. The way he would hesitate for a second, as if expecting a snide comment or judgement from everyone is what really stands out. As intriguing as the male was, I know better than to seek out answers, he is probably just a tourist anyways.

It’s been about two months since he showed up, around the time classes started at the college near by, and I haven’t said more than a couple words to him. Instead, I stay determined to continue to keep my nose in a book while also observing the other patrons and picking up on new information just by being in the same room.

It had been proven that the raven haired boy is not a tourist by now, he has even picked up a job at Glo’s. Yet, I continue to keep my head down, cautious of drawing attention to myself as I read whatever book I am reading that day. The titles changing at least once a week as I finish the prior, and reading is my main distraction while on lunch break nearly everyday.

She always had her nose in a book. And the book always changed quite often. Jughead would watch her with more intent than what the grayed old man was ordering in front of him. He would see names change every few days - Kafka, Poe, Browning and then to Alcott. She seemed to have an interest in a lot of things - and yet she remained silent. Usually only having two specified orders that the Jones boy had memorized by now. (Stick two simple orders here so she has a taste for something). She always came in at the same time. Usually on the dot. And this was the day, Jughead thought. This was the day that he would get more than her order - because today he would finally ask her name and what she was all about.

It's Tuesday, usually a slow day at A Tale Twice Sold, and today has been no exception. A few stragglers have wandered in, two regulars and a couple new faces wander the shelves as I organize and put away books, going to the register when I see a customer heading up there. So, when lunch rolls around at 1, Helen, the owner of the shop and a very lovely older woman, tells me that I can take an extra hour to get some fresh air and have some fun. I laugh lightly at her comment, quickly thanking her for my now two hour lunch break with a hug. We both know that I am going to the same place I always do, just for an extra hour today. It's my definition of fun in its own way, reading in an atmosphere I enjoy, I mean. I finished The Hunchback of Notre Dame last night, and I need something new. It doesn't take me long to pull an old worn out copy of The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, it's a book I've read before but it is also one I love, it's been a few years anyways, so why not. Grabbing my cross-body, army green, purse and throwing it over my shoulder, I wave to Helen like usual before starting my trek to the cafe. Helen has always been a mother figure for me, after she found out about my home life she stepped up voluntarily and took the roll with pride. I don't know what I would have done without her all these years.

Five minutes is what it takes me to get to Glo's and I sit at my usual two person table by the window, opening my book and jumping into the fictional world without any thought. The dark haired boy is around more often than not now, never without that strange beanie, and seems to have my order memorized, so I feel no guilt as I tune out the world and read the words I read years ago, a soft smile on my lips from the memories the book brings me.

She had become enchanting by him while he saw a curved upper mouth trickle her lips. He was enticed by them as well as her. She had a way of entering the room mostly unnoticed. He always did though. Something about the way she would walk with a nose in her book as if she had memorized her path weeks ago. As if her feet knew her direction but her mind knew that her table would always be open at this time.

“Would you just go talk to her Jones?”.

Jughead slapped back into reality as a palm gently hit his shoulder.

“I have talked to her”, he reluctantly gave a soft size as Joe the diner owner gave a slight frown in return.

“I mean more than her order boy…”, Joe moves his hair behind his ear with his palm - knowing what resided in Jughead's mind every time Y/N entered the diner. “Ya know, she reads books about as often as you do. You should tell her about yours”.

Jughead rolled his eyes. “Yes...I'm sure a novel about a serial killer is exactly up her alley…”

“Geez boy. Look at the books she's reading and tell me that again”.

This time Jughead didn't stare at the girl in the booth but rather at what was in her hands. A smirk that had matched Y/N’s lips had approached his own.

“Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun; it cannot be contained”. She blinked a few times while Jughead stood there nervously with her drink order.

“I guess it depends if you actually believe that”.

“Trust me - I do. You seem to be quite the bibliophile. Is that a newer accomplishment or something more natural?”.

I heard a voice I have come to recognize even though I haven't heard more than a few words come from its owner, the new guy. I look up from the pages of my book with shock written across my face. The shock turns to confusion and I comment on his quote,

“I guess it depends if you actually believe that” I state simply, the confusion morphing into curiosity when he replies back. For a moment I am silent, processing the information that he noticed me, notices me on a regular basis, at least enough to remember that I'm never without a book. I guess that shouldn't be a surprise considering he sees me enough to have memorized my order, a side order of biscuits and gravy- Glo’s has the best vegetarian gravy I've ever tried-, a seasonal fruit cup, and a large hot chocolate.

“Books are portals to worlds outside your own, a was to leave when you have to stay where you are. I've always been a bibliophile” I answer hesitantly. “Did you look that quote up before you came over here, or have you read this?” I ask with genuine curiosity. To say I'm surprising myself by participating in this conversation is an understatement. I'm going against my 'keep quiet and keep your head down’ rule, but I'm not phased by it. I would be lying to say that the dark haired boy hasn't caught my attention over the time he's been here, but I told myself I wouldn't do anything that could start a friendship, or worse, an attraction. Love is silly, it never lasts and one or both parties always end up hurt, sometimes catching others in the crossfire. I don't understand why humans willingly put themselves through that, looking for something I don't believe even exists. True love, that is. “It's fairly obvious that you aren't from around here, so how is Seattle treating you?” I question as I mark my place in my book and close it. I don't put it down though, making sure I have an easy escape if anything happens. Reaching out for my coffee I take a few sips as I watch the male, analyzing and trying to gather as much information as I can on him.

Jughead was taken aback. “Obvious huh? Sorry we can't all be thrust-ed into the hipster life of the Pacific Northwest”. Y/N looked down a bit and Jughead had realized his impulse for sarcasm wasn't entirely noticed - so he tried to make a joke out of it. “However, I do believe I have rocked the flannel far longer than most people here…”.

She looked up and gave a smile and it had seemed his softer tone has connected to her.

“To answer by the way - I didn't have to look up that quote. I know it. Like most things that strike a chord through others writing. But I think that's the point when you're trying to be one yourself…”

She perked up a little to the comment. “You’re a writer?”

Jughead gave a smirk. “I'd like to point out I don't think I'm a good one. But yeah, I write. Ever since high school. Granted, sometimes incredible stories just need to be written when presented”.

“What was the story?”, she lightly played with her fingers while trying to remain eye contact.

“There was a lot to it actually...but it all started with a missing body found off of a River”.

I tilt my head to the side in an inquiring manner when the raven haired boy mentions the story that came around was centered around a murder - or suicide maybe? Forensic psychology and murder mysteries had always been a topic of extreme interest for me.

“A body found on the shore of a river? Was there any missing persons report? Was the person known around town? You're from a small town, right? That must have been hell”. I frown, curiosity and interest growing in me as I try to put possible factors together in my head. Maybe I should lay off of the murder books, I've read The Lovely Bones too many times to count and it must be having an affect on me.

He looks a little bit shocked by my words, possibly because most people wouldn't take such interest in murders and washed up dead bodies. Of course, that thought causes me to look down at my hands quickly with a pale pink staining my cheeks.

I fiddle with the small silver ring that is on the middle finger of my left hand, a small band with the Greek keystone's cut out. It was a nervous habit I've always had and I hate it. “For the record Seattle is grunge, not hipster. Grunge was born and bred here; the music, the style, the people, and the reputation. If you are looking for the Hipsters head across the Sound to Bainbridge, Gig Harbor, or down to Olympia.” I mutter as if it's a matter of fact, my tone having a soft and subtle edge of something close to offense. What has gotten into me? Why aren't I sticking to my usual routine? Keep your head down and don't let anyone close. It's a simple agreement, so why do I want to ask him if he wants to sit? I'm going insane.

She didn't seem to notice how a smile was stuck onto Jughead's face while she rambled. He enjoyed her correcting him as most people would never challenge him. “Apparently I'm mistaken. Although, now living here, I don't know if I count as hipster or one just soaking up the grunge atmosphere”. Without hesitation, or an invite, Jughead sat down as he hoped he was welcomed to. Now he was too enamored with the girl in front of him.

#jughead jones imagine #jughead imagine #jughead x reader #jughead jones #riverdale jughead #riverdale imagines #riverdale

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Top New Horror Books in February 2020

Deathless Divide by Justina Ireland

Type: Novel Publisher: Balzer + Bray Release date: 2/4/20

Den of Geek says: Justina Ireland’s Dread Nation was one of the most-talked-about YA debuts of 2018, and for good reason! The story of Black zombie hunters in an alternate Reconstruction-era America is already one of the best premises of all time, and Ireland more than follows through on the promise of kickass, sociopolitically cathartic potential—with Dread Nation, and now with Deathless Divide. (We love this one so much, it’s also on our Top New YA Books of February 2020 list.)

Publisher’s summary: The sequel to the New York Times bestselling epic Dread Nation is an unforgettable journey of revenge and salvation across a divided America.

After the fall of Summerland, Jane McKeene hoped her life would get simpler: Get out of town, stay alive, and head west to California to find her mother.

But nothing is easy when you’re a girl trained in putting down the restless dead, and a devastating loss on the road to a protected village called Nicodemus has Jane questioning everything she thought she knew about surviving in 1880s America.

What’s more, this safe haven is not what it appears—as Jane discovers when she sees familiar faces from Summerland amid this new society. Caught between mysteries and lies, the undead, and her own inner demons, Jane soon finds herself on a dark path of blood and violence that threatens to consume her.

But she won’t be in it alone.

Katherine Deveraux never expected to be allied with Jane McKeene. But after the hell she has endured, she knows friends are hard to come by—and that Jane needs her too, whether Jane wants to admit it or not.

Watching Jane’s back, however, is more than she bargained for, and when they both reach a breaking point, it’s up to Katherine to keep hope alive—even as she begins to fear that there is no happily-ever-after for girls like her.

Buy Deathless Divide by Justina Ireland on Amazon.

The Boatman’s Daughter by Andy Davidson

Type: Novel Publisher: MCD x FSG Release date: 2/11/20

Den of Geek says: If it’s good enough for Paul Tremblay, it’s good enough for us! We love a good atmospheric horror read, and The Boatman’s Daughter sounds like it has more atmosphere in one page than most books do in their entirety.

Publisher’s summary: A “lush nightmare” (Paul Tremblay) of a supernatural thriller about a young woman facing down ancient forces in the depths of the bayou.

Ever since her father was killed when she was just a child, Miranda Crabtree has kept her head down and her eyes up, ferrying contraband for a mad preacher and his declining band of followers to make ends meet and to protect an old witch and a secret child from harm.

But dark forces are at work in the bayou, both human and supernatural, conspiring to disrupt the rhythms of Miranda’s peculiar and precarious life. And when the preacher makes an unthinkable demand, it sets Miranda on a desperate, dangerous path, forcing her to consider what she is willing to sacrifice to keep her loved ones safe.

With the heady mythmaking of Neil Gaiman and the heartrending pacing of Joe Hill, Andy Davidson spins a thrilling tale of love and duty, of loss and discovery. The Boatman’s Daughter is a gorgeous, horrifying novel, a journey into the dark corners of human nature, drawing our worst fears and temptations out into the light.

Read The Boatman’s Daughter by Andy Davidson on Amazon.

The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James

Type: Novel Publisher: Berkley Release date: 2/18/20

Den of Geek says: Who doesn’t love a good creepy motel story? From the author who brought us The Broken Girls, comes another female-driven foray into horror mystery. If you’ve been digging Nancy Drew or love Sharp Objects, there’s more where that came from.

Publisher’s summary: Something hasn’t been right at the roadside Sun Down Motel for a very long time, and Carly Kirk is about to find out why in this chilling new novel from the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of The Broken Girls.

Upstate New York, 1982. Viv Delaney wants to move to New York City, and to help pay for it she takes a job as the night clerk at the Sun Down Motel in Fell, New York. But something isnʼt right at the motel, something haunting and scary.

Upstate New York, 2017. Carly Kirk has never been able to let go of the story of her aunt Viv, who mysteriously disappeared from the Sun Down before she was born. She decides to move to Fell and visit the motel, where she quickly learns that nothing has changed since 1982. And she soon finds herself ensnared in the same mysteries that claimed her aunt.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Read The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James on Amazon.

The post Top New Horror Books in October 2020 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2Bhu8Di

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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ccorneliast · 7 years ago

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A Heart In Barcelona - Chapter 3: A Carrison Fanfiction

Rating: M Summary: Carrie and Harrison go on a weekend getaway to Barcelona during filming of The Empire Strikes Back in the late seventies. Something happens on that trip that changes their lives forever. Disclaimer: this is a real person fan fiction, so it all definitely came from my imagination and I’m not trying to offend anyone (you know the drill). I did take some creative liberty on what concerns the timeline, so stuff that is mentioned/places they visit may not have existed in the seventies, I apologize in advance; I do use/paraphrase some parts from Carrie’s books, as a way of making it feel more like them. A/N: Jennifer, my love, this third chapter is for you ( @jennydehavilland ), for your constant love, friendship and excitment over these two. Big thanks to my girls over at the carrison groupchat, y’all are the best.

On AO3 (tumblr was being stupid so it ate my italics, so i’d recomend reading on AO3 this time!)

I hope you enjoy this new story of mine and don’t forget to reblog and tell me your opinion!

You’d think that an afternoon of such intimacy and years of accumulated tension would be enough for them to keep their hands on each other. Instead, as they make their way to the España Square, Carrie’s eyes rarely meet Harrison’s. Truth be told, it just dawned on the two actors that they rarely had this much time alone as is, and they don’t quite know how to deal with it.

Soon enough, if they weren’t careful, Harrison would start to get annoyed at Carrie’s mood swings and, in turn, she’d begin to resent him for his frustratingly unconcerned demeanor.

They walk side by side, though miles apart psychologically, until they reach it. The square is momentous in itself, it’s huge fountains dominating most of the space. Up above, almost sky high, they could observe the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, an enormous classical edifice, much too different from Gaudí’s architecture.

Harrison glances at his wrist watch and mumbles: “Maybe we should get something to eat.” She nods.

They walk up the steps (more steps, ugh) until they’re by the bigger, more crowded fountain. Carrie spots some street food and urges Harrison, with little to no words, to follow her lead. They pay for some delicious, though unreasonably priced, meaty sandwiches.

“You wanna sit there?” Harrison’s questions, uninterested.

She does. She sits down on the grass, right in front of the fountain. He sits next to her with some difficulty, for the area’s overflowing with tourists and natives alike.

“Harrison,” she says, but it’s barely audible. She tries again, this time turning her face towards his. “Harrison.”

He continues eating, but nods.

“What was that earlier?” she asks. He keeps chewing, but it’s not a way to divert the attention from the conversation. He doesn’t try to deny it or change the topic. Instead, he says:

“That thing was jam-packed.” He takes another bite. “I couldn’t breathe up there.” On top of the rooftop of La Pedrera.

“Why didn’t you say somethin’?” she chews on the straw of her drink absentmindedly.

“Didn’t want to worry ya, kid.” His eyes focus on the still dormant fountain instead of on hers.

“Bullshit.” She sets the cup down in front of her and brings a hand to his face, turning it towards her.

“What?” he’s shocked by how quickly her tone turned aggressive.

“You heard me.” She repeats, her hand falling to her lap. “You weren’t trying to be selfless.”

“Then what was I doing?” his tone is dangerous.

“Can’t crack that up yet.” She ponders it for a few moments.

“I have that problem sometimes.” He confesses. “When things aren’t the way I want them to.” He finishes his sandwich and puts away the wrapper in his backpack.

“When things aren’t the way you want them to be…” she echoes. He’s unbelievable.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.” People start cheering, but they remain absorbed in their conversation.

“Afraid?” she runs her hands through her hair and successfully makes a ponytail.

He keeps quiet.

“That’s it, right?” she smiles, pleased. “You didn’t want me to see you scared?” the fountain rises and water starts splashing around in various colors. “You didn’t want me to think you’re what? Human?�� she presses. His eyes reflect the pinks and blues and yellows. “Tell you a secret, I don’t. Never have.” That’s a lie, a big one. Big movie star, Harrison Ford, fearless and manly as can be. That was her mindset and, frankly, it was scary to think otherwise.

He turns around, effectively shutting her up. His mouth clashes onto hers, his tongue slipping inside her, demanding and expecting nothing but her very best. She obliges, of course. The music in the square is nearly deafening, but it doesn’t throw her off. Her hand grips the hair on the back of his head, tugging him closer and closer. Their lips slide on each other until he’s breathless. As they part, she sits back up in her place, their skin barely touching.

Then, softer:

“You kiss like a poet.” The words barely reach her.

“Kissed a lot of poets in your life to know how they go about it, Harrison?” she laughs it off, uncomfortable.

“You know what I mean.” He says, their eyes never meeting.

She does. Because every time he looks at her, suddenly flowers grow in her chest.

The morning sunlight accompanies them on their way to La Sagrada Família. The map easily leads them to the closest transit station. The metrotakes them directly to the cathedral, as they exit the station. And then they see it, through the waves of tourists and countless bright green trees. La Pedrera and Casa Batlló may be Gaudí masterpieces, but Sagrada Família?

It’s a monster.

Its height is unfathomable and the exquisite sculpture work on the facades is unbelievable. Portraits of Christ’s life cover the entirety of its outside and its shape is eerily reminiscent of sandcastles on the beach. It looks like a fantasyland castle – wet sand dripped through fingers, both sharp and soft.

Carrie and Harrison circle the entire structure, taking in the seemingly unorganized order of the figures carved into every inch of the front. So much is happening, everywhere, that the overall style defies categorization. The west side is austere and tormented, drawing their attention to an emaciated Jesus on an iron cross. Stone women wail beside a pile of skulls at his feet. However, the east side is an abundance of life – humans and angels and animals and wheat – and topped by a green tree covered in white doves. Carrie inhales at its beauty, and they’ve only seen the outside.

As they enter the cathedral, they’re aware of an absence of noise. Organic figures intertwine with colorful and intricate stained-glass windows. On the right side, windows dyed with blues and greens and purples bid goodbye to the sun, whereas on the left side, where the sun rises every morning, warm colors like oranges and yellows welcome it.

“Fuck, this is beautiful.” Harrison whispers, only to Carrie. She nods.

And then, an overwhelming need to pick up her notebook pops up. An entire storyline occurs and she wants desperately to write it down. She tugs on Harrison’s shirt’s sleeve and he looks down at her: “Harrison,”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” they keep walking through the columns.

“I want to write.” Her voice is tight.

“What, now?” his eyebrow creases.

“Please,” she tugs harder, more urgent.

“Okay, okay.” He looks around. “Sit down there, huh?” he points to one of the columns farther to the left.

She walks towards it, slumps on the ground and leans against the warm stone, hot from the sun rays. She fumbles inside her bag, fishing out her little grey notebook and a black ink pen. Words flow out of her and onto the paper, energy turning into energy. Harrison observes curiously, taking note of the way her lip curves when she’s thinking of what to write next, the way her teeth bite into it when she knows she’s got a good idea. Her back is curved over her ink-stained hands and the yellowed-out pages.

It’s a mesmerizing sight, even amongst all of Gaudí’s beauty.

A while later, her head rises and she smiles. His body, his soul, fills with the most pleasant adrenaline he’s ever felt. The sight of her proud smile imprints a crescent moon on his lip, and the desire of capturing this moment and savoring it for more than these mere seconds is overpowering. He sneaks out his camera and snaps the swiftest shot he’s ever taken, her lips and sparkling eyes forever inside his jeans’ pocket.

I wish the world would swallow us whole, in this moment. This, it hits me, feels like falling in love.

The afternoon train is already speeding out of Spain and it’s warm-colored buildings, en route to reality, also known as grey old London.

“When are you gonna show me one of those things you write?” Harrison mumbles.

“What?” Carrie’s eyes are cloudy from tiredness.

“Will you ever show me?” his eyes are the smallest hint of hopeful.

“Someday, Harrison,” she responds. “Someday.” She smiles, though not very convincingly.

“What is it exactly that you write?” he thought of letting go of the subject, but he’s too invested now to stop.

“Whatever I feel like.” She replies. It doesn’t seem enough to satisfy him. “Sometimes, it’s journals. Others, poetry. Rarely prose, though I do have a million ideas for it.” She laughs, suddenly nervous for having his undivided attention.

“Interesting,” he looks at her like he’s studying her. It’s intimidating. “Very different writing styles, then.” She nods. “Does it feel different?”

She lets her hair loose from the pony tail and it falls down onto her shoulders. “When I write a diary, I do it to listen to myself, not to communicate.” He nods in understanding, inciting her to continue. “It’s sort of like I’m cloning myself in an effort to try to understand myself.” She chuckles. “Just trying to get to the edge of my personality.”

“And poetry?” her gets up and makes his way across the table, sitting down beside her. As if this conversation couldn’t get any more daunting.

“Oh, poetry is a lousy lousy way of communicating.” She explains. “But such a great way to find yourself.” His lip curves upward in the most endearing smirk.

“So, your words mirror you.” He tries. When she doesn’t react, he bites his bottom lip in anticipation. She melts a little bit inside.

“My words burn.”

If only he knew every hurtful, confused, venomous words she’s written about him.

“It’s ironic how artistic we become when our hearts are broken.” As she says this, she realizes how truly powerful her words are, because it looks as though his face shut down. His eyes look glassy and dark, his facial features very harsh, as though they were hand-painted with coal. She almost regrets them. Almost.

“All art comes down to love and heartbreak, isn’t that so?” she’s enjoying the effect she has on him. He must understand. Her smile is wicked.

He plunges into her, dives into her, drowns. His lips are hers, his bottom lip trapped in between his. Her hands on his soft, brown hair, pulling him closer, as close as she pleases. In her waist, she feels his fingers digging perfect oval holes on her skin. His slight stubble rubs against her sun-kissed skin and it feels nothing short of exciting. These days, it feels like he only kisses her to shut her up.

As the train breezes through the French countryside, Carrie and Harrison kiss. The kiss doesn’t quite feel the same, though. Her air leaves her body and enters his, enters her spirit, enters her life.

#carrison #carrie fisher #harrison ford #fanfiction #rpf #carrison fanfiction #tita writes #a heart in barcelona

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inkyardpress · 8 years ago

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Throwback Thursday: Best Historical YA

This #ThrowbackThursday we’re taking it way, way back with these historical YA novels! These tales might seem like old news, but you’ll become addicted to the high-stakes adventures that will leave you with a fresh perspective on the past. Who knew history could be so epic?

Reign of Serpents by Eleanor Herman

Fans of the Blood of Gods and Royals series are in for a whirlwind ride when the third book comes out on June 27! This colossal story is a mashup of fantasy and historical fiction, featuring a young Alexander the Great and a huge cast of kickass heroes and villains—like two marooned people with tons of romantic tension and a device that will do the impossible: kill the last living god.

Alex & Eliza by Melissa de la Cruz

Calling all Hamilton fans! Ever wonder how Alexander Hamilton met his wife Eliza Schuylers? Melissa de la Cruz has called this book a Jane Austen-like approach to Alex and Eliza’s story, and the romance of these teenaged lovers certainly lives up to that. Prepare to swoon!

Duels & Deception by Cindy Anstey

Speaking of which, heiress Miss Lydia Whitfield thinks her life is a well-planned-out marriage plot straight from an Austen novel. That is, until she is kidnapped with a certain handsome law clerk who is supposed to be drawing up her marriage contract. This is a Victorian story at its quirkiest!

The Freemason’s Daughter by Shelley Sackier

Jenna and her family are part of an underground rebellion that hopes to see King James I on the English throne. Their cause takes them from Scotland into England, where Jenna unexpectedly encounters the brooding Lord Pembroke who sets her heart racing. Will she follow her heart or stay true to the rebellion?

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Monty is supposed to be a gentleman, but he can’t help certain vices: gambling, gin, appreciating both men, and women. He has one last tour in Europe to get it all out of his system. Although his sister Felicity is tagging along, it won’t stop him from flirting with his best friend, Percy, who joins in on the fun. Until, that is, they stumble upon a magical artifact that brings them nothing but trouble!

My Lady Jane by Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton and Jodi Meadows

Between nabbing the crown under the nose of her cousin, and marrying Lord Gifford Dudley, Lady Jane has her work cut out for her. Nine days may seem like a short amount of time to be Queen, but when there’s magic involved there’s bound to be mayhem and trouble. Lady Jane might have to rein it in a bit if she’s to stay on the throne!

Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys

This true story will move you to tears, and is based on the worst disaster in maritime history. Four teenagers, each with their own secret, want to board the same ship during World War II, hoping to get to safety—but they must travel through enemy territory to get there. Sepetys’s writing will give you chills and all the feels.

The Passions of Dolssa by Julie Berry

Meet Dolssa, a young girl living in 1241 France during the Catholic Crusades and who has been branded a heretic because of her magical abilities. She must go on the run from the friar who executed her mother and wants Dolssa to be next. This spellbinding thriller will have you on a historical and emotional roller coaster!

Stalking Jack the Ripper by Kerri Maniscalco

Jack the Ripper is one historical figure you probably don’t have to Google. Audrey Rose Wadsworth becomes entangled in a hunt for the notorious serial killer through her work in forensic medicine (hello female scientist in 1880!). It’s an original take on the unsolved mystery of Jack the Ripper that will keep you flipping pages at lightning speed!

Maud by Melanie J. Fishbane

Anne with an E may have created countless and loyal Anne of Green Gables fans, but that whole fandom wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the brilliant mind of L.M. Montgomery. Maud is the story of the teenage years of this Canadian literary treasure.

#throwback thursday #ya books #ya reads #bookworm #historical fiction

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r-eminisce-blog1 · 8 years ago

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Title: Everything, Everything

Author: Nicola Yoon

Publisher: Delacorte Press (September 1, 2015)

Synopsis: My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla. But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. He's tall, lean and wearing all black—black T-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black knit cap that covers his hair completely. He catches me looking and stares at me. I stare right back. His name is Olly. Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

“I decide then that love is a terrible, terrible thing. Loving someone as fiercely as my mom loves me must be like wearing your heart outside of your body with no skin, no bones, no nothing to protect it” ― Nicola Yoon, Everything, Everything

The moment I saw this book in the store, I knew I had to get it. I mean, the cover was an absolute masterpiece. I loved the colours and the complex simplicity it seemed to radiate. A quick look at the summary drew me in and I couldn't wait to get my hands on it.

BUT. This was everything, everything I wished it wouldn't be.

The story started out great. Diversity, a take on a condition I've only read about in my biology textbook, the potential for cute fluff. Really, I couldn't ask for more from a light read that might actually be worth my time. As I kept reading however, the book- or rather, Madeline- seemed to draw my ire. Her character was, for the most part, bland. There was no real substance, no personality behind the character. She was selfish, naive, and just struck me wrong. To me, it felt like she was her condition, and her condition was her. I wrote this off as a side-effect of being isolated from a very young age but for someone as well-read as Madeline, it simply couldn't be ignored. But more on the negative aspects later.

This book, like every other book, has positive attributes to it. I loved the tiny Whittier dictionary snippets scattered throughout the story.

“prom·ise (ˈpräməs) n. pl. - es. 1. The lie you want to keep. [2015, Whittier]”

― Nicola Yoon, Everything, Everything

This conveyed more of Madeline's character than entire chapters at times. The layout, and the fluff, albeit cheesy, were still entertaining enough to help me get through the book but I'd rather have stopped before reaching that horrific ending. I also loved the unique combination of Madeline's family. The writing was simplistic, and I personally enjoyed the overall format of the story, especially the cute infographic sort-of things.

Sadly, however, I couldn't find much more to love. This book had countless reviews praising it, worshipping it and maybe it would have been different for me too, if not for the ending. The character development, while poor, was something I could manage to look past. The love story was a little rushed and because of the format, I feel like the readers miss out on much there but their development at least fulfilled the cheesy fluff I was looking forward to expecting. Olly was the dream guy every girl wants: dark, broody, mysterious and obsessed with the colour black but also a giant dork. The love story read like many other teen fiction stories, but it still had me captivated because of her condition. I was desperate to find out if they would make it work, how Nicola Yoon would work around it.

And boy, was I in for a nasty shock.

The rest of this review will contain spoilers so if you would like to remain unspoilt, just know that if you, like me, expected the above prepare to be disappointed. BIG TIME.

Nicola Yoon made me want to scream. Not because of how much it broke my heart when it ended, but because of how angry I was. The ending cheapened the whole book with a simple haha, I guess she wasn't sick after all and is completely fine and dandy, turning it into every other doomed lovers YA novel. I feel like the readers were cheated on because there is great premise and what appears to be a unique plotline and all of it is flushed down the drain. I can understand the mother having a hard time on her own right after she loses her husband and son. But what about the others? Carla? Janet? Her mother is a doctor, surely a colleague would have suspected something?

Maybe I'm reading too much into the ending, or maybe I missed some crucial information while reading, but it simply doesn't seem to fit right.

Everything, Everything was a fun read for the most part. My rating would have been at least 3/5 rather than the 2 it has now if the ending wasn't so disappointing. Perhaps in the future, I'll pick up more of Yoon's works because I did enjoy her creative approach to storytelling.

I hope you enjoyed this review! I'd love to hear your thoughts about it if you've read the book, and if you haven't, will you?

#Nicola Yoon #Everything everything #book review #review #novelnarratives

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crazydiscostu · 6 years ago

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It’s got it all! This film literally has a character break the 4th wall (with a boat)! The Truman Show has not only been nominated for countless awards in its time but it has won countless more. We take a look at what makes this Jim Carrey outing so enduring after all these years and why it is so difficult to corner into any one genre of film.

This film can be defined as Science Fiction, Comedy, Satire, Concept or Drama, but more accurately the film is a blend of all of these genre elements. Everyone and their dog agrees the film is a giant metaphor but no-one can seem to agree on what that metaphor is. Lets get the more obvious symbolism and observations out of the way first : There’s the Christof (of Christ) / Truman (true man) dynamic between what is essentially creator and creation. The themes of Moses and the book of Exodus. But the most prevalent themes come from Plato’s ‘Allegory of the cave’, an interplay where :

“Plato has Socrates describe a group of people who have lived chained to the wall of a cave all of their lives, facing a blank wall. The people watch shadows projected on the wall from objects passing in front of a fire behind them, and give names to these shadows. The shadows are the prisoners’ reality. Socrates explains how the philosopher is like a prisoner who is freed from the cave and comes to understand that the shadows on the wall are not reality at all, for he can perceive the true form of reality rather than the manufactured reality that is the shadows seen by the prisoners. The inmates of this place do not even desire to leave their prison, for they know no better life. The prisoners manage to break their bonds one day, and discover that their reality was not what they thought it was. They discovered the sun, which Plato uses as an analogy for the fire that man cannot see behind. Like the fire that cast light on the walls of the cave, the human condition is forever bound to the impressions that are received through the senses. Even if these interpretations (or, in Kantian terminology, intuitions) are an absurd misrepresentation of reality, we cannot somehow break free from the bonds of our human condition—we cannot free ourselves from phenomenal state just as the prisoners could not free themselves from their chains. If, however, we were to miraculously escape our bondage, we would find a world that we could not understand—the sun is incomprehensible for someone who has never seen it. In other words, we would encounter another “realm”, a place incomprehensible because, theoretically, it is the source of a higher reality than the one we have always known; it is the realm of pure Form, pure fact.” – ‘Allegory of the cave’, Wikipedia

This idea was also promoted heavily in the Matrix. After all this is a story about control.

“We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented”

Moving on – Flat Earthers point to the symbolism of a presented idea, a giant dome which is not as it seems…. I’m not going to get too bogged down in that one given that the Flat Earth movement was started on 4Chan….

But speaking of paranoia – while researching the film I came across a few articles commenting on how the film echoes our current online privacy and data concerns (outlined in a previous post). However I feel that line of thinking is ill conceived : We elect to share our information, doing so without comprehension whereas Truman literally had no choice. He was born into his world was denied privacy from the start. Presumably those articles were attempting to draw comparison to Jim Carrey dumping his Facebook stock and calling out data mining? Who knows.

Soundtrack-wise the themes are emotive and engaging. Burkhard Dallwitz and Philip Glass capture the mood with each scene and build from introspective piano melodies to crashing epic tension with ease. Check out ‘It’s a life‘ , ‘Dreaming of Fiji‘ , ‘Reunion‘ and ‘Truman sleeps‘ specifically. The strings are vibrant and never overstep the mark, driving the scene in some areas and guiding it gently in others.

Jim Carrey filmed this at the height of his career but up until then was only really known for his comedic roles. Despite filming taking place earlier and delays with the studio over the films release, Carrey already had a number of successful box office films (Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (1994) The Mask (1994) Dumb and Dumber (1994) Batman Forever (1995) Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls (1995) The Cable Guy (1996) Liar Liar (1997)) under his belt. Some more successful than others obviously but this marks his first real acting job as far as I’m concerned. He has range here that we had previously never seen before. It demonstrates his first performance outside of the goofball character.

It’s worth noting that a similar project came out after The Truman Show – EDTV was another concept film which saw Matthew McConaughey (also starring Ellen, Woody from Cheers and Chandlers fruit-dehydrating roomate) elect to become a reality television star (with hilarious consequences ugh). A bit of a flop, EDTV’s saving grace was it’s ability to portray the “everyman”. They showed the effects of having the cameras intrude on the life of an aware Joe Bloggs character. The protagonist being a bit of a slob (and not too bright) made it easy for the writers to put him into that situation and act boisterous in an effort to escape. With Truman there was a child-like naivety that made him the hero of the film. His schtick was an innocence that made the audience root for him.

The deleted scenes allude to deeper plot threads and character traits. There is a scene where it could be theorised that the network were drugging Truman with “vitamins”. A scene outlining a studio plot for Truman to have an affair, a son and his inevitable death (prematurely or otherwise). In this scene they discuss Truman’s son and the continuation of the show which is an interesting concept in itself. In another scene we see that when Truman steps onto the boat – he knows completely that everyone in Seahaven is in on the conspiracy. He appears disguised as a member of his own search party and makes his way to the docks. Once he knows the truth there is no turning back for his character. Obviously this scenes omission from the theatrical cut makes for a more compelling story if Truman still has doubts as to the level and intricacies of the conspiracy by this stage.

I truly feel like Andrew Niccol doesn’t get enough credit for the world-building at play. Every character not only has a backstory within Truman’s world, but so does the actors that play them (within the confines of the world outside Seahaven). I admire this level of detail (seen more recently in the gaming world with the likes of Red Dead Redemption 2 – where the NPC’s have lives and jobs and a scheduled day independent of the protagonists actions). We can also see the sophistication of the camera technology grow as Truman gets older in the more “clip driven” portions of the film.

The filming is in itself fascinating. At the beginning of the film shots of Truman appear largely in fish eye, iris and point-of-view to demonstrate the perspective of the hidden cameras. As Truman discovers his world these devices are used less, subtly taking the audience out of this world alongside Truman (to a certain extent). The shift is subtle but wholly impactful. Even camera angles throughout the film make it look like filming is being conducted from hidden locations within the scenery.

As solid as the world-building of the film is, there are still some concerns about the ending : what happened when Truman went through the door? Did it lead into a backstage area or some sort of maintenance corridor? Echoing back to the religious symbolism, Christof addresses Truman from the heavens with a booming voice and Truman turns his back on the creator. As symbolic as his exit is in the film, Truman is still within Christof’s control (at least until he makes it outside of the secure studio/dome facility). And then there’s the legal ramifications of his departure. The studio presumably have a legal obligation to his care and well-being. We assume that Sylvia comes to meet Truman leaving the studio but we have no idea how difficult it would be for him to leave the compound property.

Christof and the network can’t have been too happy about Truman’s departure – Would they seek to smear him using footage of grabbing his wife Meryl with the blade? What are the copyright and consent limitations? Then there’s the serious mental toll of living a lie : breakdowns and trust issues, lack of anonymity. We only see glimpses of the world outside of Seahaven and even then it is only of the audience themselves. What kind of world could Truman potentially be walking into?

Calm down, Stu. It’s only a film?

The Truman Show is heartfelt and sincere. It is all of these genre specific elements, religious analogies and psychoanalytical commentaries rolled neatly into the DNA of what is a solid concept film (which ironically would work well as a television series). It asks fascinating questions about identity and privacy. For that reason I feel it will be remembered fondly for years to come. A time capsule if you will. A snapshot of a time before mass surveillance and reality television.

“In case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight”

https://crazydiscostu.wordpress.com/

When Truman leaves : ‘The Truman Show’ (1998) It's got it all! This film literally has a character break the 4th wall (with a boat)!

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