#as your average 18th century man would probably be | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenclaudiabrown · 1 year ago

Text

She'll Be Coming With Us | Chapter One: Down The Rabbit Hole

Chapter content warnings: censored cussing, canon events, leg pain, some condescension/light misogyny/that one sleazy guy hitting on her at the bar, Claudia’s world imploding.

Word count: 6,292

Series Masterlist

13:02 / 1:02 p.m.

The Eddington Hotel was not what Claudia had expected.

The building was made of brick and three stories tall, and its shape was vaguely reminiscent of an 18th-century estate home. Inside, it was rather homey, and the lobby went straight into a bar. Opposite was a long row of comfortable booths, all wood and dark leatherette, with a fish tank on one end and a piano on the other. An odd touch, in her opinion, but not unwelcome. A man was sitting at the piano and playing a lovely tune that she didn’t recognize.

Having arrived just after noon, Claudia booked a room and ordered a plate of bangers and mash. She had packed a light bag, which she left in her room, and after she freshened up she went back downstairs. She selected a booth in the middle and sat facing the door, and she waited.

She ate her lunch when it came- surprisingly good for a hotel meal- and left a generous tip, then headed back to her room to brush her teeth (sausage breath is unprofessional). On her way, she caught sight of a tall blond man, clad in an olive drab woolen military jacket, speaking to the barman. She recognized him as one Professor Nick Cutter, a paleontologist who lectured at one of London’s universities. He would be the perfect person to ask to clear up this whole mess. She quickened her step, finishing her errand speedily, but when she returned the professor was nowhere to be seen. So she returned to her booth and sat down, intending to remain until he returned.

Into the hotel strode a man- average in looks, wearing a cheap suit and carrying a sorry excuse for a briefcase. His gait was a cocky swagger that he probably thought made him a chick magnet but was more likely to be chick repellent, if the way she instinctually cringed was anything to go by.

Definitely not Professor Cutter.

She averted her gaze, but it was too late- the random man’s gaze was already firmly affixed to her. He sauntered over nauseatingly, flashing her a terrible smile. “Hey, doll.” He greeted. Her stomach turned at his tone. “This seat taken?”

“I’m waiting for someone.” She returned politely.

He was apparently incapable of taking a hint, and promptly slid into the booth opposite her. The briefcase was plonked down beside him and he gave her what he probably thought was a charming smile. “I’m Gareth. What’s your name, gorgeous?”

She did not answer.

“Playing hard to get, huh? That’s alright. I bet I can guess your name.” He boasted.

She immediately tuned him out.

Maintaining a neutral expression that he was too dull to realize was one of boredom and disregard, Claudia searched her mind for an excuse to escape.

Fortunately, it came a few minutes later. The professor returned and sat down, and a few moments later, he was poured a glass of something amber and probably strong enough to sterilize a wound. (She wondered if it would also sterilize… Gary? Garth? Whatever his name was.) Hope flared in her chest. She quickly formulated a coherent excuse in her head, chocolate eyes trained on the professor’s back.

“…especially ones as pretty as yours. I must admit though, I’ve never seen you around here myself, and uh, hey, why don’t we get a drink afterwards?”

“Excuse me.” She spoke, interrupting his drivel and grabbing her leather bag from beside her. “My boyfriend just got here.”

Determinedly, she moved with a faux nonchalance and a surprisingly real enthusiasm toward the professor and prayed that he would play along with the charade and not deem her unprofessional or fail to take her seriously. The professor took out a leather wallet and flipped it open, seeming to inspect the photograph inside.

“Excuse me.” Claudia drew his attention to her, depositing the bag on the bar close by. He turned, and she dropped her hand onto his shoulder and leaned down to kiss him.

After just a couple seconds, she pulled back and flashed him a smile, half awkwardness and half playing the part. “Don’t panic.” She pleaded as she shifted to sit on the barstool beside him. “I just told that slimeball over there you were my boyfriend.” The professor leaned slightly and glanced in the man’s direction. “One more sleazy chat-up line and I was going to have to kill him.” She half-joked.

The professor only smiled along with her. “Well, I’m very glad I was here to help.” He returned, surprising her with a Scottish accent. “Um, I’m Nick Cutter.”

“Actually, I know who you are.” She admitted. “Claudia Brown, Home Office.” She explained, and reached into her bag for the picture. “I saw you at the hotel. I’m hoping you can do me a favor, Professor.”

“Another one?” He joked.

“I suspect that this is why we’re both here.” Claudia set the photograph on the bar between them, and he picked it up. “We get dozens of rogue animal sightings every year. You’d be doing me a great favor if you could confirm this is all nonsense.”

“I can’t dismiss the evidence out of hand.” He returned, which was a respectable but irritating reply.

“Surely you’re not giving this whole ‘monster’ story any credibility, Professor?”

He shook his head in lieu of a shrug. “Just trying to keep an open mind.”

“People always say that as though it’s such a good thing.” Claudia responded. If working for the government had taught her anything, it was that it was safest for the public for them to think deep inside the box.

“Well, you see, that depends on how you define ‘monster’.” Professor Cutter explained. “A wild panther might look pretty terrifying on a dark night.” He suggested.

“Is that what we’re dealing with?” Please say yes.

“My best guess. If it exists at all. The last sighting was somewhere near the Forest. Would you care to join the search?”

She should really decline politely and thank him for his professional opinion, go home and call it an open-and-shut case. But Professor Cutter was smart and seemed to have a decent sense of humor, and had handled her escape from Slimeball and very unprofessional introduction with a grace she hadn’t expected. And she’d always prided herself on being more human than the rest of her peers.

“I suppose I owe it to the taxpayer to do more than sit in my room and suck the minibar dry.” She accepted his offer, and he laughed. “Would you excuse me so I can fetch my coat?”

Five minutes later, she was comfortable in her white-trimmed black coat, a pair of grey gloves tucked into the pockets along with her phone, wallet, and taser, and her bag was safely back in her room. Professor Cutter had waited for her at the bar, sans drink and no longer gazing into his wallet. He smiled when he saw her.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, Professor.”

“Oh, it’s no bother.” He assured her. “And please, call me ‘Nick’.”

She returned his smile. “Only if you call me ‘Claudia’.”

Outside, a silver Toyota Hilux was parked, and two men stood close to it, looking at a laptop set up on the bonnet. “You know we’re not talking about a wild cat, don’t you?” The one on the left was saying to the one on the right as Claudia and Nick reached them.

“This is Claudia Brown from the Home Office. She’ll be coming with us.” Nick explained.

“Knew it, it’s a coverup.” The one on the left again spoke to the other, seeming to believe Claudia wouldn’t hear him. The silent one simply observed her somewhere between curiously and critically, a faint smirk on his face as he looked between her and Nick. Had he seen how they met? Dear God, it was embarrassing enough that she had thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of Professor Cu- Nick- but for one or both of his colleagues to have also witnessed it….

“What’s he talking about?” She asked bemusedly, to Nick or the man on the right- either would be fine. Anything to put a stop to the humiliating train of thought rampaging through her mind.

“Connor never met a conspiracy theory he didn’t like.” Nick replied- cryptic, but at least he’d given a name to one of the faces. And with that, he made to get into the truck. Claudia followed, slipping into the seat behind the drivers’ seat. Connor slid in opposite her and the still-nameless man joined Nick in the front seat. “This is my laboratory technician, Stephen Hart, and back there with you is Connor Temple. He’s apparently one of my students and the whole reason Stephen and I are out here.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Claudia responded politely.

A short ride later, Nick pulled into a cul-de-sac and parked in an empty spot. “This is as far as we can go by truck. We’ll have to leg it from here.” Stephen announced.

The four climbed out of the vehicle, and Claudia paused, checking her mobile for messages. Connor was muttering to himself, fiddling with something in or on his bag. The professor and his laboratory assistant stood together, a meter or so away from the front of the truck. “How’d you meet her?” Stephen queried to Nick lowly.

Claudia’s breath seemed to jam in her throat as she waited for Nick’s reply, the reply that would make or break the group’s perception of her and how seriously they should take her.

The Scotsman was quiet for a moment. “She approached me.” Well, that was one way of putting it. “Er, she showed me the picture from the paper, wanted to know what I thought. I offered her to come with us as we looked into it.”

“And that’s it?” Stephen pressed, stopping Claudia in the middle of a relieved sigh. “You don’t pick up women at bars, no matter why either of you are there. That’s more my thing than yours.” Even as stressed as she was, Claudia could here the jesting undertone of his words.

“Don’t I know it, ye bloody tart.” The insult was said rather affectionately, and Claudia assumed there was an inside joke there. The men chuckled.

“Really, though,” Stephen said, more seriously now, “are you sure that’s all? You went in for a drink because this whole bloody ordeal brought up old memories of Helen. I know this is hard on you, but it’s not like you to handle things in this way.”

“‘In this way’?” Nick repeated, his voice hard. “And what does that mean?”

Stephen sighed. “Today’s a nonstop reminder of the disappearance of your wife. You go into a bar, and come out with a woman. Now, that’s not like you. You handle your problems by either ignoring them or being aggressive toward them. If there really is something out there in the Forest, I won’t be surprised if you try to bloody wrestle with it.”

“I didn’t invite Claudia to come along with us because I’m trying to replace Helen.” Nick said after a moment, his voice almost hard. “I invited her along because she was friendly, and polite, and seemed like more of a human being than every other robot bureaucrat. She was already here, so I thought ‘why the h£ll not?’ and invited her. There’s nothing out there that’s dangerous. We’ll take a look around, confirm that it’s just a wild animal in the wrong place, and we’ll go home. She goes back to the Home Office and writes a report, we go back to the university, and Connor goes back to his classes.”

“Alright.” Stephen conceded. “But I reserve the right to be an arse if she starts acting like a bureaucrat.”

Nick chuckled. “Fair enough. But I didn’t get the impression that she was like that.”

“No, neither did I.” The brunet agreed.

Connor was apparently satisfied with whatever he had been focusing on, and when he headed for the other men, Claudia took it as her cue to do the same. She was careful to not show any indication that she’d overheard their conversation.

They left the cul-de-sac and headed into the Forest. Claudia, in her terrible shoes that she knew would probably be destroyed by the end of this jaunt, was grateful that the Forest was tidy and clean- if those were the right terms- compared to other wooded areas. Although a carpet of soggy fallen leaves and pine needles covered the damp earth, there were no overgrown thickets of bushes and plants crowding the walking space, just clear, unobstructed ground. Despite this, Claudia was all too aware of the damage every step did to her professional shoes, which were already proving to be a poor choice to wear in a forest. Her toes were freezing.

Up ahead, Stephen ducked under a low-hanging branch of a very spindly and short tree and consulted his map. “If there really were some creature around here, wouldn’t the journalists have found it by now?” Claudia felt obligated to ask.

“They wouldn’t know what they were looking for.” Nick replied simply.

Admittedly, she was rather skeptical. “But you do?”

“Mm.” Nick gestured to his lab assistant. “I’ve seen Stephen track wounded animals through the rainforest for up to ten days at a time.” Well, that was certainly an impressive feat.

“Not to mention wrestle an anaconda and save a whale.” Connor chimed in excitedly, picking up the pace to walk closer to the man in question. She made a mental note to look into that later.

“Maybe there is something here and maybe there isn’t. Frankly, I doubt it.” Confessed Nick.

“Cutter!” Stephen called almost immediately. Curious, the others joined him where he was standing still, staring directly at a tree- or rather, what was in it.

A black cow hung from its branches, looking peculiarly intact.

“Okay, now I’m getting interested.” Nick declared.

Claudia agreed silently.

“Professor.” Connor spoke up. “The compass is going haywire.” He passed said object to Nick, and Claudia saw the needle rapidly spinning around as it was pulled by both the North Pole and an unknown thing. Claudia was no scientist, but she knew that whatever was strong enough to drag a compass’ needle away from north was an incredibly powerful source of magnetism.

“We should keep going.” Nick decided after a moment. “Stephen, is there a trail from here?”

Immediately, the brunet began searching the surrounding forest floor, and after a few moments he crouched down to examine the dirt. “There’s something here. It’s shallow, but it looks like people. Two- a woman and a boy, I’d say, judging by the shape and tread of the soles. Might be two kids; I’m not sure. They probably live in those houses.” He looked over his shoulder with concern on his face. “There’s no animal native to these parts that can drag a cow up into a tree like that. If we were in South America, I’d say a leopard or another big cat. But I have no idea what could’ve done that.” He stood up. “If that thing’s still out there, and so are they…” he indicated the footprints, referring to whoever made them.

The implication wasn’t lost on Claudia. Anything capable of doing that to a cow would almost certainly make an easy victim of two kids, or a kid and a woman, or whoever’s tracks Stephen had found.

Nick had realized this also. His face grim, he nodded. “Lead on. We’ll see if we can’t catch up to them.”

Their pace quickened, the four continued deeper into the Forest.

Afternoon became evening and evening became night, and by the light of his torch Stephen continued to lead them. Unfortunately, the two sets of footprints diverged, but according to Stephen one of them seemed to be running in the general direction of the cul-de-sac houses, so with any luck, he or she had made it to safety by now. The other trail continued to wander, as if its maker was lost or unfamiliar with the Forest.

Years of practiced professionalism kept Claudia’s face neutral and relaxed, devoid of displaying how she really felt. Her feet, clad in pointed-toe pumps with exposed heels, ached terribly from the uneven terrain. Her legs had only sheer nylons to protect them, and as such she was absolutely freezing. She hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was many hours past dinnertime, leaving her ravenous (luckily, she had carefully timed coughs or steps onto twigs to cover the sounds of her grumbling stomach). Overall, she was hungry, cold, tired, and sore, and those things and their lack of results had amalgamated into enough frustration and emotional exhaustion she couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or throw herself into bed with her coat and makeup and shoes still on.

She’d take the shoes off, she decided, but only because they were giving her blisters all over and would be getting donated, sold, or thrown into the rubbish at the first opportunity.

And then, there was a breakthrough, for lack of a better term.

A bellowing lowing sound, somewhere between an aggravated cow’s moo and a sci-fi film’s dinosaur sound effect, echoed through the trees. Up ahead, moonlight penetrating through the canopy of treetops halfway illuminated a hulking form. Standing close by was a short and slim feminine figure, her pale hair shining under the moon. The realization that this was probably the woman whose footprints Stephen had found relieved Claudia.

The girl didn’t seem to notice her fellow humans approaching, and seemed startled by the thing as it bellowed again. Something- an animal, perhaps- leapt out of her arms, apparently miffing the woman. She called to it exasperatedly, although Claudia didn’t quite catch what she called it, and bent to look for it. The giant creature, oddly enough, seemed perturbed by her actions, shuffling backward and lowing repeatedly.

“Don’t move.” Nick spoke, startling the young woman. He approached cautiously, wary of spooking the animal. Something chirped nearby, not quite like a bird, but Claudia was focused entirely on the massive animal. It was probably the size of an Asian elephant, taller than any of its observers and solidly built. But its feet had short but splayed toes, its head was compact, and its neck and tail were thick. It was like nothing that Claudia had ever seen before, even in pictures or among the urban legends of the world.

“Is it real?” The woman breathed.

Nick shook his head slightly, as confused as the rest of them. “Some kind of experiment, maybe. Hybrid, throwback.” He theorized, although it was weak. He looked over at the woman. “Who are you?”

“Abby Maitland. I’m a keeper at Wellington Zoo.” She replied.

After a moment, Nick moved closer to it, shining his torch over its body. “It’s a reptile. Five or six tonnes at least. Large supertemporal bosses, huge osteoderms on its back. It must be some kind of anapsid.”

Claudia had noidea what that was.

“A tortoise?” Abby queried in disbelief, slightly clarifying Claudia’s confusion.

Nick stepped a little too close, apparently, and the creature abruptly bellowed again, startling everyone into backing up several steps. “Stay in his field of vision!” Abby warned. “You’re making him nervous.” She explained.

Nick took her at her word and returned to standing with the rest of them, much to Claudia’s relief.

“I was right; there was a dinosaur in that warehouse.” Connor boasted excitedly. Claudia frowned; dinosaurs seemed like a bit of a stretch, and this creature looked nothing like the blurry image in the newspaper. The head shape was all wrong, and its… skin? hide?... wasn’t dark enough.

Connor produced his mobile and snapped off a picture before Claudia could stop him, and the clicking noise and flash of light unsettled the creature, which roared at him.

“Whatever it is, it’s classified until I figure out what the h£ll to do about it!” Claudia snapped, snatching the phone out of his hand to delete the photo. It was pretty grainy and blurry and very dark, but she was taking no chances. A grainy, blurry, dark photograph had led her and at least three others here.

The same chirping noise from earlier, louder now, came from somewhere nearby, and Claudia watched Nick crouch down as he and Stephen shone their torches on the source. It was a green lizard-like creature, but again like nothing Claudia had ever seen. From what she could make out, there were multicolored markings on its sides, and a fin or sail of sorts on its egg-shaped head, along with fins- please, God, not wings- on its back.

What the h£ll was going on here?

“Bloody h£ll.” Stephen spoke, squatting down beside Nick. “There’s two of them.”

“Where did that come from?” Nick asked, though it was obvious no one had a good answer.

After a long moment of silence, Abby spoke up. “Does anyone know which way the cul-de-sac is? I came out here with a boy that lives there, but we got separated, and I got lost.”

Nick stood up and nodded. “Aye, we can get you back there.” Relief flooded Maitland’s face, and Claudia took a few seconds to glance at Stephen. His assumption had been correct, despite not having very clear tracks to go off. A boy and a small woman. And in the dark, through the leaf-laden ground, their trail had led him to here. He was clearly an excellent tracker, and suddenly Nick and Connor’s outlandish tales of his talent didn’t seem so far-fetched.

“Er- what about that?” Connor interjected, gesticulating at the strange animal still grazing nearby. “We can’t let it out of our sight.”

The professor deliberated for a moment. “Alright, why don’t you and Stephen stay and keep an eye on this thing while Miss Brown and I walk Miss Maitland back to the cul-de-sac to check up on the boy. I’ll grab us the torches from the truck while I’m there.”

Stephen did not look enthusiastic at the prospect of spending time alone with Connor, and Claudia was torn between amusement and sympathy. But she wasn’t so sympathetic as to offer to remain with them- if the boy had made it home safely, there was potentially a very real risk of this… whatever it was… getting out of hand, depending on how old he was and how much his parents believed him. An easily dismissible photograph in a newspaper could blow up into something much more, drawing tourists, sceptics, the press, and conspiracy theorists to Gloucestershire and create a whole host of problems.

Claudia’s responsibility was to assess the situation, evaluate the threat level, and contain both the situation and the knowledge of it as much as possible, all while contacting all the right people.

She set off with Nick and Abby, moving at a brisk walk back toward the houses. She longed to tread on asphalt pavement again, a flat and relatively smooth surface to balm her blistering feet and sore legs.

“Who’s the boy you were with?” Nick asked.

“Ben Trent. He or his mother contacted the Zoo about an exotic lizard he’d found and I volunteered to come check it out. Our reptile section’s getting slimmed down, and I wanted an excuse to be around them. I know the Forest of Dean pretty well, so my boss had no reason to turn me down.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I got more than I bargained for.”

“Aye, it’s been that kind of day.” Nick agreed. “How’d you get separated?”

Abby sighed- not out of irritation toward the professor, Claudia noted. “We found this cow hanging out of a tree. Like something had put it there. Ben got scared and started running. He thought maybe it was a leopard, but that’s ridiculous- leopards, in the Forest of Dean. Anyway, I was carrying Rex and I couldn’t keep up with Ben.”

About a half-hour of rapid walking later, they arrived at the cul-de-sac, and an upstairs window drew their attention. The light to the bedroom was on, showing a glimpse of yellowish walls inside. But there were no windowpanes, and the wall around the window casing was… damaged. Light filtered between the bricks that made up the structure, and the roof below was inexplicably mussed up.

“What the h£ll?” Nick and Claudia breathed in unison, united in their horror and concern.

Abby broke them from their stunned paralysis, the shorter blonde sprinting toward the corresponding front door, shouting for Ben. She rapped on the door frantically as Nick followed her. Claudia, though very worried for the boy’s safety, hung back and forced herself to tune out what she said to the woman who opened the door as Mr. Hodges picked up the phone, having begun to dial his number as soon as Nick left her side. “Brown? What on Earth is it at this hour?”

“I’m sorry to trouble you so late, but I’m afraid it’s urgent.” Claudia apologized, wincing at his groggy tone. He’d probably fallen asleep in his office again. “The rogue animal sighting you sent me to investigate in the Forest of Dean- it’s much worse than we thought.”

She took a deep breath and launched into an explanation of what she’d seen over the course of the day- the strange lizard, the cow in the tree, the maybe-tortoise, the damage to the Trent house, the compass going mad. Her speech was shamefully jumbled and frantic and she completely broke etiquette, rambling in normal-people terms and swearing and stammering as she tripped over her explanation.

“Bloody h£ll, Brown, have you been drinking? Did you take anything- pills, drinks from strangers?”

The concern read as condescension to her confused and exhausted mind, and she rankled at it. “Everything I saw tonight was real and with a clear mind, Hodges. I haven’t had a sip of anything stronger than coffee today, and I’m not so stupid as to take pills or things from strangers. I’m not a đдϻи teenager, and you’re not my mother.” She snapped. “I know what I saw.” She mentally cursed herself for not at least sending herself Connor’s poorly-taken picture— it was decent enough, she could’ve sent it to Hodges to verify herself and her story. “And I’m not the only one who saw them- there were others with me as well. Professor Nick Cutter, Stephen Hart, Connor Temple, Abby Maitland, and possibly a young boy, Ben Trent. His parents may also be witnesses, but I haven’t met them yet.”

“Are you absolutely barmy, Brown? Making a call like this with no proof? You’ve got no photographs and you haven’t even spoken to everyone who may or may not have seen all these things.”

“I am a government official, and a đдϻи good one.” Claudia responded. “My word is proof enough.”

Apparently not. Hodges spent the next several minutes lecturing Claudia on… everything. The importance of protocol. The impossibility of her claims. The likelihood that she might have been drugged to see those things, and how she should know better than to drink on the job, and to leave her drink unattended.

At long last, his yawning- Claudia no longer felt guilty for waking him up- had begun to eat at the structure of his sentences, and he quit his lecture. He had grilled her for details, and she had told him of her observations of the time, the soreness in her feet, the color of everyone’s clothes- everything he had asked for and more until he was finally convinced that she was neither making it up nor hallucinating. Yet still he didn’t take it seriously enough. “Fine, Brown, I believe you saw something.” He finally conceded. “Can’t you just ring the coppers and have them do a sweep of the Forest? They’re a competent unit.”

“No, I can’t use the police, this is too sensitive.” Claudia refuted.

“Brown.” His voice was exasperated. “A giant turtle is hardly a threat.”

“There are lives at stake here!” She snapped. immediately pushing her emotions back under control. But the image of the cow in the tree and the damage to the Trent house would not leave her mind, and she feared what would happen if a human aggravated the culprit.

“Let’s imagine for a moment that you’re actually right and there is a monster in the Forest eating people. That’s very far above your pay grade and your station.” Hodges told her seriously.

“Listen,” she sighed, “I don’t need you to tell me how junior I am, okay? You’re just gonna have to trust me. Now get somebody down here, fast.”

“Alright, alright, I’m on it. But keep in mind that if it’s as bad as you say, this would qualify as an Official Secret.”

Satisfied enough, Claudia hung up with a quiet huff. She closed her eyes and took a few moments to calm herself with measured breaths, after which she pocketed her phone, straightened her coat needlessly, and headed for the Trent house. At last she could finally check on the boy and his parents for herself.

Claudia found her way upstairs to Ben’s bedroom. “The simple truth is Ms. Maitland got carried away. Ben’s pet was nothing more exotic than Draco Volans- it’s a Southeast Asian flying lizard.” Professor Cutter was telling Mary Trent, who was doing something with the blankets from Ben’s loft bed.

“There was a monster, though!” Ben insisted desperately. “It chased us! Tell them, Abby!”

From her place in the doorway, Claudia watched as the zookeeper internally panicked at being placed on the spot and looked toward the professor. She couldn’t see all of the blonde’s face, but on it she could see the warring emotions. “I don’t really know what happened, Ben. We just got frightened, that’s all.” Abby said, her eyes trained on the professor and shooting him a rather accusing glare. The Scotsman simply responded with a subtle nod that the Trents almost certainly missed.

“But I saw the past! Prehistoric times! I-I was there!” Ben all but shouted, surprising everyone in the room (except perhaps Mary, who remained firm in her belief he was making all of this up).

Nick, specifically, took a particular interest in Ben’s statement, his face shifting from a poorly-veiled sympathy for the boy to genuine and serious intrigue. “You saw the past?”

“There was desert, and- and rocks and things.” Ben answered, confusing Claudia- that certainly didn’t match up with the Forest of Dean. Could he have been drugged? If drugs and strange animals were involved, this might be shaping up to be organized crime.

Words seemed to fail the boy then, and he looked to his mother ask if seeking support. She clearly gave him none, and appearing on the verge of tears the boy fled the room, darting past Claudia.

Mary Trent was clearly annoyed. “I blame the telly.” She announced after a moment. That was the dumbest thing Claudia had heard all night. “Excuse me.” Mary said, slipping around Claudia to presumably chastise her son. Claudia felt a wave of sympathy for the boy.

“I think we should leave.” Claudia told the blondes still in the boy’s bedroom. They followed her out, informing the mother and son that they were leaving and grateful for their time.

“I’m going to grab some extra torches from the truck.” Nick said as Abby shut the door to the house.

“I know you feel bad about lying, but if word of this gets out, who knows what the consequences might be. You’re both going to have to sign the Official Secrets Act.” Claudia revealed as they reached the university’s truck.

Nick stopped short and turned around on the spot, prompting both women to also stop. “Whoa, since when did this become an official secret?” Nick demanded.

“About ten minutes after I finally persuaded my boss not to have me sectioned.” Claudia admitted, still put out.

“Yeah well right now we have a far more urgent problem.” Nick spoke, producing the torches from a bag in the back of his truck. “That creature we saw may be many things, but it’s certainly not a ruthless predator that drags its prey up into trees.” He continued.

“No, you can’t be sure of that.” Claudia dismissed, sincerely hoping that she was misinterpreting his direction.

“He can.” Abby cut in, drawing the attention to herself. “It’s a herbivore, pure veggie.”

“You mean there’s another one out there?” Claudia demanded. If that was the case… things were even worse than she’d told Hodges.

Smiling for some unknown reason (mad genius?), Nick replied, “What did Ben mean about seeing the past? Now, these animals have to be coming from somewhere.”

“What are you saying?” Claudia pressed. ‘Don’t say it… don’t say it.’

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m saying that the answer is in that Forest, and maybe Ben found it.”

Claudia let out a deep sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked between the blondes tiredly. “So what now?”

Nick smirked even wider. “We run.”

She really needed to run more.

And get better shoes.

The three of them raced through the Forest as fast as their weary legs could carry them, carrying bright torches whose beams bounced dizzyingly with every footfall. Claudia wondered if her feet were bleeding.

Up ahead, at last, the strange, hulking creature came into their field of vision. “Stephen!” Nick shouted, his voice surprisingly loud and strong for how breathlessly he heaved and gasped. The creature bellowed and started moving. “Let him go! It’s scared! Let’s see where it thinks is safe!” It was rather brilliant as far as spur-of-the-moment plans went, Claudia had to admit. Stephen and Connor joined the chase, all five of them following the fleeing beast through the Forest.

A few short minutes later, something even more inexplicable appeared, and they slowed to a regular walking pace as the creature undeterredly continued toward it. A moment later, it vanished into the light.

It hung as though suspended by invisible strings, glowing strangely as if illuminated from within. Its exterior was formed by what looked like shards of glass, but seemed to emit their own light rather than reflect the apparition’s glow, and the shining pieces turned and rotated with no obvious propulsion or fixtures.

It was beautiful. It was inexplicable. It was a wonder. It was impossible.

And as she gazed at it, she didn’t notice how her breath all but froze in her lungs and rolled curling outside her lips, how her legs and feet ached, how her heart hammered in her chest like a moose was trying to kick its way out of her ribcage. Her mind was lost in the awe and confusion of this strange glittering thing that defied all logic and sense and science. She did not blink, lest this bewitching oddity prove to be a fata morgana and vanish the moment she took her eyes from it.

“Where’s it gone?” Claudia breathed, turning her eyes to the professor.

His response was a single word that made complete sense and none at all: “Home.”

She didn’t know how long they just stood there in the biting cold of night, enraptured by the light that defied all understanding. At last, Connor’s absurdly loud yawn startled them from their reveries, and Nick made the unchallenged suggestion for them to return to the Eddington Hotel.

In accordance with the brief discussion they’d had while walking back to their vehicles in the cul-de-sac parking lot, Claudia booked Nick and Stephen a room as they apparently had shared before, then one for Connor and Abby each. She ordered a plate of hot food and ate it without really tasting it, only eating to quiet her complaining stomach, and bid the others goodnight.

Once back in the freeing privacy of her hotel room, the first thing Claudia did was take her shoes off. Her feet were accustomed to walking in heels higher than that for longer periods of time, but on the level floors of the Home Office and the parking lot outside it. But today she’d traipsed through the Forest for hours on end, walking and even running. Her feet weren’t used to that kind of abuse, most especially in heels.

The next thing she did was uncharacteristic of her, and that was going straight to the minibar she’d mentioned to Nick earlier in the day- God, that felt like a lifetime ago with how her world had been shaken- and pour herself a stiff drink. Letting out a breath, she downed it in one go and refilled it immediately. She was more of a wine drinker (stereotypical of women, yes, she knew that), although she did enjoy the occasional cocktail or martini. Only when she was very stressed or out of options did she turn to the stuff that smelled like nail polish remover; tonight, both applied.

A few drinks later, she was ready for bed. Claudia had perfected her nighttime routine in university, acknowledging the need for an orderly and structural schedule to handle the governmental world. She changed into her pajamas- leggings and a hand-me-down tee from her mother- and hung up her day clothes neatly, braided her hair and brushed her teeth, and checked all the door and window locks before finally tucking herself in.

During the stressful bustle of university and continuing into her career as a government official, she had come to see sleep as a haven, an escape from reality wherein her dreams, if she was lucky, were far better than being awake. Sometimes she even welcomed the nightmares.

Tonight she wanted to dream of a world where everything was normal.

@witchofthemidlands @whatkindofnameisvolta @chocolatesawfish @whispers-of-gallifrey @thegingergal

Series Masterlist

#primeval #she'll be coming with us #queenclaudiabrown #claudia brown #nick cutter #stephen hart #connor temple #abby maitland #ben trent #primeval fanfiction #fanfiction #creative writing #au gust 2023

1 note · View note

theutilitykilt · 3 years ago

Text

WHICH FABRIC IS USED IN KILTS?

A kilt is a man's dress skirt with length up to the Knee and pleats at the back, they are bi-furcated and originated in Scotland as a traditional dress worn by Gaelic Men. A kilt is one of a man's great assets, likely enduring him a lifetime. You ought to know you are investing wisely, to be convinced about where your tartan comes from, who is bearing your demand with sustenance, and that your kilt is made to proper conventional norms.

Origin

The kilt as modeled today is the lower half of the wrapped plaid with the back pleats sewed up. It was invented by an English ironmaster Thomas Rawlinson, who operated Highlanders to operate his furnaces in Inverness a city of Ireland.

It was first chronicled in the 16th century as the great kilt, full-length apparel whose upper half could be worn as a cover. The modern kilt appeared in the 18th century and is basically the lowermost half of the great kilt.

The first kilts were green, brown, white, or black. Clans people utilized different plants and herbs to dye the yarn. As time moved on, they formed plaids for distinct clans, the colors most probably based on which raw natural dyes were nearby. These plaids were called tartan cloths.

Which Fabric is used in Kilts?

Generally, a kilt is assembled with twill weaved worsted wool. The twill weave utilized for kilts is a type "2–2", indicating that each weft yarn hands over and under two warp yarns at a time. The result is a unique diagonal-weave design in the material called the twill line.

A conventional kilt is made from Scottish worsted yarn, using 8 yards of tartan fabric, hand-pleated and hand-stitched. In the early days, all kilts were totally hand-stitched by kilt-makers, a lengthy process, carrying on average around 15 to 20 hours for making one kit.

A stylish kilt for a standard adult uses almost single-width of about 6-8 yards or double-width of about 3–4 yards tartan fabric. Double-width material is knitted so that the design precisely fits the edge.

Kilts are usually assembled without A-hem.

The actual amount of fabric needed relies upon several aspects including the length of the sett, the number of ruffles put into the apparel and the size of the individual. For a full kilt, 8 yards of material would be used regardless of size and the number of ruffles and chasm of pleat would be modified according to their size.

What is Tartan?

Tartan is a patterned fabric consisting of crisscrossed, prostrate, and upright bands in multiple colors. Tartans were invented in woven wool, but now they are assembled in many other fabrics. It is specifically linked with Scotland, as Scottish Tartan kilts basically always have tartan designs.

Tartan is assembled with alternating rounds of colored yarns woven as both warp and weft at right tips to each other. The weft is knitted in a facile twill under the warp, advancing one thread at each pass. This forms visible diagonal lines where different colors cross, which gives the appearance of new colors combined from the actual ones. The resultant blocks of color reprise horizontally and vertically in a unique design of squares and stripes called a sett.

Types of Tartan Fabric

Two types of tartan fabric are famous in the World

Royal Stewart Tartan

Black Watch

Night Watch Tartan

Pride of Scotland

Mackenzie Tartan

#kilts #tartan kilt #kilts for men #scottish kilts

10 notes · View notes

palmett-hoes · 4 years ago

Text

i said in this post that i have original characters and backstories for neil's extended family. it took me,, a really long time to write it all down. it's been a full month since the original post, and this is still just a run through of things, not full prose, which i might be interested in doing one day but not anytime soon

now, some things to note about what i'm writing, why, and how. methodology, basically. this might not have come through yet in my posts, because i just don't post about my half-finished ideas, but i research a LOT. i like to base what i write about on real life, even if it's just headcanons and fanfic

also, i love helping people with research, so if anyone wants help with research for a fic or just their personal headcanons or anything hit me up!!

as a white person who wants to write characters from different ethnic backgrounds, i feel i have a responsibility to really do my due diligence and research as much as possible to consider things from every angle. and part of that for me is making sure that every character of color has a backstory. they don't just appear somewhere, i have to give them a reason for being there and a story for how they got there, even if that's not what i write their STORY about. people, come from places, basically. i follow a lot of demographic census information and population averages, as well as a lot of history, from as general as transatlantic trade in the last 500 years to as specific as the changes in a single city in a certain year

talking to other writers in the fandom i know i'm a little overzealous, but this is what gives me peace of mind to feel like i am putting the effort in to get things right

so anyway, as for what that means here:

i like writing neil as mixed black/jewish. it works well thematically for his character, as well as just what FEELS right for how i visualize him in my head

only, that can't simply come from nowhere. we know who his parents are. they need to also be poc for neil to be one, and they're a complicated pair to handle in that lens

one choice i made about that, for multiple reasons, is that everything about neil's parents' backgrounds should mirror each other. it can't simply be that one if them is black and one is jewish, or even that mary is both and nathan is white, because that says something i don't want to say any way you slice it. additionally, i want both facets of his ethnicity to be important to neil, and i feel as though he would want to ignore the half of himself from his father.

so: they both have to be mixed, giving them a sort of,, ideological equal footing, as it were. that way, i can also write three different experiences, rather than accidentally implying that This is what being black is, or This is what being jewish is, or This is what being mixed is. and that's also important to me, even if it's just in my head or not even directly addressed. it's still a big consideration of mine anytime i write about any of them

now, finally, onto mary and nathan! i'll put it below a cut because this is already long enough, the under-the-cut is much longer, and i don't want to wear out your thumbs if you don't care

mary hatford

canon timeline, neil was born in 1988. as a tentative number let's say mary was around 30 when he was born, meaning she would be born in the 50s. say her parents were roughly the same age, so they were born around the 20s

like i said, what's happening where in history is very important to me for building these backstories, and major historical events tend to have a lot of influence on population shifts. and well,, jews and europeans in the early-to-mid 20th century? there's no getting around involving world war II. nothing explicit, but it is mentioned and part of the story

mary’s paternal family are the hatfords. they're from the british west indies, largely jamaica, but they've been involved with shipping and trade all over the trans-atlantic region for generations.

they have a complicated relationship with the british empire, having both worked for them and against them at various points, sometimes both at once. similarly, they've tried multiple times through the generations to relocate the family to england permanently, but have been turned away or pressured out

they associate england and the british empire with power, and they both disagree with and desire that power in degrees which vary person to person. they do have a general idea between them though that living in england is a sign of status and authenticity, and while they don't want to leave jamaica permanently they do want their center of power to be in england, and there is a deep resentment against the anglos for not allowing them to stay permanently despite their wealth and influence, the fact that their work will always be looked down on and seen as lesser

i did come into building the hatfords with the primary idea of them being black british, and looking into the organized crime connection second. them being jamaican/west indies is a reference to the jamaican posse, who have a large presence in the london crime scene, although that's really the only connection. the hatfords aren't really yardies in any sense

the hatfords' status as organized crime is a little iffy. mostly they skirt the line between legal and illegal, owning legal trading companies and doing plenty of legal shipping. their main business in the criminal underworld is being middlemen moving supplies for other groups. they have a lot of contacts, and they serve an invaluable role in international smuggling, but they rarely get their own hands dirty. they move things from one place to the other and don't question too much what it is, though they don't deal in people

mary's father is named samuel hatford (first name in reference to samuel bellamy, the gentleman pirate king of the early 18th century). he was born in England, raised largely in Jamaica, then moved back to England as a teenager/young man. he's light-hearted and a bit idealistic for someone from a crime family, seeing the best in people even when they're cold and often believing in principle over profit, which at times put him in conflict with what's best for business

he almost enlisted in world war II, but instead convinced the family to work as weapons and supplies runners supporting the Allies and guerilla resistance groups

mary's mother is named cima ben nahman (ladino/judeo-spanish/sephardic names, doesn't really reference anything or anyone in particular). She's is an algerian jew. Born in algeria (city undecided, though algiers had the largest jewish community at the time), she moved to france for a few years as a young woman, probably for education. she joined anti-fascist organizations which became resistance groups once germany invaded

she's stoic, and has a ruthless mind for strategy. like most algerian jews, she's caught between her home country and its colonizer. the french empire played the algerian muslim majority against the jewish minority as a way to create infighting and distract the algerians from uniting and turning against them, but the algerian jews also then became reliant on the french for protection. (it's a really, really complicated situation)

cima sort of hates them both, both algeria and france. her only allegiance is to being jewish

(contrast this to samuel, who feels that he is BOTH british and caribbean, even when those two identities may be in conflict)

cima and samuel met when samuel provided weapons and supplies to cima's militia group. he took particular interest in them and went out of his way to help, above and beyond the other groups the hatfords were supplying

in the waning period of the war, cima was seriously injured, i'm currently thinking a land mine accident. she survived, but her recovery was slow. she lost an arm and had burns across half her torso, neck, and face. samuel brought her to england supported her through her recovery. in the hospital, they spoke a lot about why they each chose to fight, and the ways they did because neither were formal soldiers fighting for a country. samuel was in many ways fighting for an ideal, while cima was fighting for her people. cima also talked to him a lot about judaism and religion during this time, which samuel took an interest in. eventually, cima decided to stay

they got married. samuel converted, which was somewhat controversial with his family. however, cima agreed to join the family business, where she became an integral but sometimes ruthless member. after algerian independence, she brought some of her trusted family and community into the fold as well, some moving to england and others to france

both cima and samuel believed very heavily in responsibility, though what it meant for each of them was different. cima believed in preparedness and follow-through, samuel believed in family and protection, doing what's right outside of the bounds of the law. this contributed a lot to how they raised their children

when they were born, mary and stuart were raised in england (and i like to think they have an oldest brother). the hatfords were a big family, and influential, although careful about balancing the legal and less-legal sides of their business. the ben nahmans were smaller, and most of them were in france so mary and her brothers saw them less often. they were raised very religiously and culturally jewish, though close with the caribbean side of their family too, as well as being the first generation who were born and raised in england. this put them at a cross-section of three very different cultures, and was where mary first learned about changing and blending in with different groups

mary was the youngest and a little bit spoiled by her father, aunties, and uncles. her mother however was much less tolerant of her. clearly very affected by her time in the war, cima became extremely distrustful and suspicious, and tried to instill in her children a similar sentiment of secrecy and self-sufficiency, avoiding attention and casual relationships. she could be harsh on them, especially mary, who was the most resistant to this

growing up, mary was irresponsible and fun-loving, goading her brothers and cousins, getting in trouble, and starting fights. she didn't understand the tenuous balance of being organized crime, and at times put the whole family at risk by overestimating their sway. her mistakes affected the whole family but it was usually her mother who confronted her about them first and most harshly

she resented her mother's control, and didn't understand the reasons behind it. she also couldn't differentiate between the boundaries her mother sets as a result of her own trauma, and the necessary boundaries she set for the safety of the family, viewing them as one and the same, and leading her to hate any kind of control exerted over her

really, a lot of cima's character is just who mary ends up becoming after being married to nathan and being on the run. i like the story of a child becoming the parent they once hated. rather than learn from her mother, both her failures and her successes, mary becomes her, doomed to make the same mistakes. this is also why cima is wounded by a landmine, because mary dies in fire

---

nathan wesninski

nathan was HARD to come up with a story for, mostly because,,, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS GUY WORK FOR THE JAPANESE YAKUZA

wesninski is a VERY polish name. the japanese-polish connection is,, not super strong

so anyway, working off the idea of the wesninski family being a polish jewish one, WHERE is he going to meet a japanese crimelord to get into a multi-generation debt/business arrangement with?

turns out, the answer is brazil

brazil actually has a large jewish population (roughly 10th largest in the world). it began with its colonization by the portuguese, but the 19th century to modern population largely comes from central and eastern europe. brazil ALSO has the largest japanese population outside of japan

also this story ended up being WAY more detailed and prosaic than samuel&cima's story, which is basically just bullet points. there's no reason for this i love both stories very much just for some reason the words flowed for me here and not there

to avoid having a second jewish story where wwII is prominent, the wesninskis get a page out of my own family's book: nathan's grandfather (neil's great grandfather) came to the americas fleeing the russian pograms around the turn of the 20th century

Wesninski came to brazil (city undecided, have a lot more research to do about individual cities in brazil). he had waardenburg syndrome(a hereditary genetic condition that can affect eyes and hearing) which runs very strongly in his family (his son, nathan, and neil will all inherit it), and he is completely Deaf. while he came to brazil alone, in his new home he connected both with the local jewish community and the local deaf community, and eventually marries another Deaf Jewish woman

eventually they were able to establish a kosher deli and restaurant in the city, one which became a common hangout for the Deaf community. then one day (probably around 1915), a group of japanese men came in, and kept returning

these were the moriyamas, recently arrived from japan, in a place with very few japanese people and businesses. they liked the wesninski deli because they didn't share a language with anyone in there, couldn't even be heard by most of them, and it would also be difficult for the authorities to question them. two layers of protection for a crime family in a vulnerable place

wesninski and the moriyamas were amicable to each other, but as they didn't actually have a way to communicate that was the extent of it. but the moriyamas were polite and payed well and didn't bother the other customers. als, as a jewish establishment, they had a lot of education resources, which were helpful to the moriyamas in learning about brazilian society, including beginning to understand portuguese

now, in japan, the moriyamas were a small yakuza family. they got driven out by their bigger and stronger and more established competition around the time when japanese immigration to brazil was just starting, so that was where they went. though they had little option in where they ended up, they also had little competition in establishing their business

i still have a lot of research to do about the moriyamas. about both how the yakuza operate and about how brazilian organized crime works, and about life in brazil for early japanese immigrants. so a lot of the moriyama details are pretty vague

now the wesninskis had a son, meyer (nathan's father. name in reference to meyer lansky, famous american jewish mobster of polish descent) who was around 14 when the moriyamas arrived. he himself was not fully deaf like his parents, though was hard of hearing and raised in the Deaf community. as he goes through his rebellious teenage years, well, the gangsters are right there

in the early days the moriyamas were still more concerned with mostly the japanese enclaves, but they had aspirations of expanding. meyer wasn't japanese, but he was helpful to the moriyamas who came into the deli to study. he was perceptive and bold, could keep a secret, knew his way around knives from working in the deli, and knew the city. he was a good asset to them, and he was interested in causing some trouble

over the next ten years or so, meyer got increasingly more involved, alongside the moriyamas becoming increasingly more established throughout the city. he goes from someone who helps out occasionally and relays information beyween parties to getting involved with minor shakedowns, bribery, evidence disposal. by the time he's in his 20s he's thoroughly enmeshed

his parents were older when they had him, and his father died relatively young, leaving meyer the store and his mother to take care of. they were vaguely aware of his connections to the moriyamas and didn't approve of what he did with them but he also kept the worst from them, and was always a diligent son, and the only one they had. he assured them no matter how far he went that he wasn't "really" part of the gang

"yakuza have tattoos, and see, ima? no tattoos. i'm still a good jewish son, not a gangster"

now the problem arises when meyer falls for camara da machado, a young Deaf woman who frequents the store

(based on/inspired by/FC yaya dacosta (where the name comes from) and rutina wesley)

she was a Deaf girl born to a hearing family who struggled to give her the support she needed, maybe even just a single mother, and she'd spent a lot of time alone at the deli from a young age (12-ish?). she was shy and quiet and a little bit of a shrinking violet, but the wesninskis became very fond of her. she started tentatively helping them out around the store which became a job. she was often included in family meals and holidays, and always had a bed in their apartment above the deli if she needed one, and more than once had helped patch meyer up after he got in trouble to hide the extent of it from his parents

she was a couple years younger than him but he'd always been sweet on her. and she'd had a crush on him from basically the moment she'd layed eyes on him. they'd known each for years and camara was basically family, and then one day when they were both in their 20s it just suddenly clicked for them

so meyer and camara fell in love. meyer was head of the house, had to keep the deli running, and had his mother, camara, and possibly camara's mother (undecided at this juncture) to worry about and he decided he didn't want to continue working with the moriyamas in case it dragged his family into danger. being a gangster was a fling of youth and he was ready to grow up

when he informed the moriyamas of this though, they,,, did not agree.

while MEYER might not have considered himself part of the gang, THEY didn't think he just got to walk away. he'd worked with them for too long and knew too much. there might even have been a desire to tie him to the family permanently through marriage. and well,, one man against a growing criminal empire can't do much

it was a huge shock to him, and made him truly realize how naive and reckless he'd been. he'd been a dumb kid who wanted to start some trouble, the moriyamas were career criminals. they expected that once you were in, you were in for life, and they did not take kindly to meyer disagreeing with this

he didn't know how to explain this to his family... so he didn't. they'd all told him they wanted him to stop, but he'd meant for the announcement to be a surprise. after learning that he would not be permitted to walk away, he chose to just hide it and continue with business as usual

it worked for a while, maybe a few years, a time during which the moriyamas were getting a lot more brutal as they got more established and increasingly looked to expand, putting them in competition with other gangs and greater law enforcement, until they were a true crime empire spread across whole regions of the country. meyer had lost a lot of esteem in their eyes by asking to leave, leading them to put him under increasing scrutiny and giving him more incriminating tasks, to ensure that he would be incriminated if he ever tried to turn them in. it's during this time that he first had to kill for them

then camara got pregnant

and meyer was terrified. he didn't know how the moriyamas would deal with a kid. the only marriages and children he knew of within the family were endorsed by the boss, many arranged by him, and he knew his wouldn't be approved. yakuza wives were heavily involved with the business too, and he absolutely did not want that for camara

he broke down and told her everything. she's horrified, and furious that he kept it from her, but she didn't want to give up her baby. it would be hard, but she believed they can keep it hidden, and if the moriyamas found out, maybe it wouln't be so bad?

(spoiler: it would)

they have a son, born natan da machado, under his mother's name

meyer and camara never got married. meyer was going to propose after he left the moriyamas but that obviously didn't happen. marriages were supposed to be blessed by the boss, and meyer never dared to ask. they already lived together, anyway

but with natan, they decided that meyer couldn't acknowledge him as his own. in the deli or in the streets, he didn't acknowledge natan. he was camara's bastard son, and meyer didn't want anything to do with him

it was a flimsy disguise at best. natan was mixed, but there was a strong enough resemblance to his father. even if his hair was a darker red or he had brown skin, they had the same eyes

they tried to keep him away from the moriyamas as he grew up, hoping they wouldn't see him and make the connection, but they also kept him very hidden in general, just in case. he spent a lot of time inside, with his grandmothers

and that was how natan grew up, feeling like a secret, his father cold and distant, only acknowledging him in their apartment. cut off from other kids his age. a hearing boy in a Deaf family (natan himself was HoH but still had most of his hearing. meyer and his maternal grandmother could both hear, but they had gotten out of the habit of it and mostly communicated through sign)

natan developed a deep feeling of resentment towards his father and shame about himself from a young age. he felt like a mistake, defective somehow. so wrong he had to be hidden away from everyone

there's only so long that you can hide a child, though, and when natan was around ten the moriyamas found out about him, and they were not happy.

they didn't like split attention or loyalty. they kept children and family under very tight wraps. they should be one hundred percent enmeshed in the moriyama empire, raised to be loyal and helpful in whatever way they were needed. the fact that meyer wanted and was willing to leave for this family, and then hid his son, was a huge betrayal

still, they gave him an opportunity to prove his loyalty: kill camara or the moriyamas would kill them all: her, natan, meyer, and both their mothers

but meyer couldn't do it, and instead he told camara to run and hope they didn't actually care enough to chase her down. and she did. and she couldn't take natan with her. (i haven't fully fleshed out why yet, currently thinking that meyer was given this ultimatium when they already had natan)

so camara left her son, and got away

i built the story of mary's mother as a reflection of mary's story if something had been different, and i built nathan's story the same way. his wife takes her son and runs away with him when the moriyamas try to take him from her. nathan's mother was in the same situation and left him behind

over the next forty years of his belonging to the moriyamas he gets to marinate in that resentment. from the father that ignored to the mother who ran away from him, he internalizes it as being something wrong with him, not the circumstances. the more he's taught to torture and kill and the more he excels at it, the more this belief gets cemented. he's good at killing, he was meant to kill. he's twisted and broken and wrong inside and he always was and his parents always knew

and then when it happens again but differently this time he throws away a decade and millions of dollars and his standing with his boss to hunt down his son and his wife because he didn't get to run away so why should they? why does mary love nathaniel more than camara loved natan?

from here, the exact detail's of nathan's story aren't quite solidified. whether he was raised by his father from then on or by his grandmothers (or whether his grandmothers left with his mother) or whether the moriyamas put him somewhere else entirely, but from then on he lived under the moriyamas' direct supervision, and they taught him how to turn a knife on a man

they took his mother's name from him, though, so he's natan wesninski, not natan da machado, because they own the wesninskis now

and when the moriyamas decided to expand beyond brazil when natan was a young man instead of a child, and settled on the east coast of the US, they renamed him nathan, because it sounded more "american"

---

so that's it. obviously there are still a lot of unfinished details in both stories, but they're strong enough at this point to stand on their own and i haven't changed or rethought a lot of the major details in a long time

i've become extremely attached to these OCs and their stories, and i hope they interest other people too. some day i'd like to write them out in prose properly, along with the story of nathan and mary meeting, but that'll be a while away considering the pace i move at

so until then i just wanted to put this out there

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #mary hatford #nathan wesninski #txt #my fics #my writing #my posts #black neil josten #jewish neil josten #cw gangs #cw organized crime #cw ww11 #cw wwII #long form post

91 notes · View notes

dangermousie · 3 years ago

Note

I would like to order a salty no. 3! (tropes, authors, actors)

Mmmm, our kitchen is at your command. Here is my salt shaker and it’s BIG!

Actors - I used to love Xu Kai but after the triple horror of Court Lady, Ancient Love Poetry and that esports mess with Miss Wooden Tree with Boobs, my eye starts twitching when he's mentioned for a role or even when I see a promo picture of him. He might go back on my good list at some point (I mean, I used to dislike Zhang Zhehan only to fall like a ton of bricks after WoH - great timing!) but right now any time I see his face twitch twitch twitch.

Hu Yitian is like a male Cheng Xiao - cannot act. His face doesn't do it for me either so I am just happy he mainly does moderns.

Cheng Xiao is the worst actress I've ever seen in a cdrama, which is saying something. She must have a hell of a sponsor but maybe they should stick her on a runway instead and not make me want to spork myself. She also keeps getting cast with fave after fave, as if she's on a mission to prove these men, who normally have great chemistry with anyone, cannot be defeated by her woodeness. When I think of the fact that she is about to be on my screen opposite Luo Yunxi, I begin to comprehend the cruelty of the universe.

The only good thing about the utter destruction of Zhang Zhehan (a topic I am not going to get into unless I rage stroke) is that there are two less Ju Jingyi dramas circulating out there. The only reason, she’s not the worst is because Cheng Xiao exists.

Dylan Wang and his handsome sheep face and his wooden lack of acting and the insane fact that they keep insisting on casting that man with the ultimate handsome miquetoast vibe as some violent, powerful, scary antiheroes, makes me long for...I don’t know what, but not a Dylan Wang drama. To paraphrase Groucho Marx, “whatever he is in, I’m against it.”

Wu Lei - he’s a decent enough actor but whoever thought he had the vibe for a powerful, wild, death on the battlefield barbarian general in The Long Ballad is the same person who keeps casting Dylan Wang as a badass. It burns my brain!

OK, switching to Korea. Kim Jung Hyun should make a comeback. He’s mega talented and his agency clearly leaked stuff to punish him for wanting to leave. Also, I don’t care how unprofessional he was - he was clearly having a mental heath crisis and was in an abusive relationship. Also, I don’t care if an actor is a bad person - his ex is a dumpster fire but she’s a good actress so she should act. I’d rather have a terrible person who can act (Lee Byung Hun), then a sweet person who can’t act (Taec.)

I am not sure if it’s an actors thing but whatever - people who ship actors in real life are insane and one of the reasons China had an excuse to crack down on fandom. (I don’t mean fun banter but people who genuinely believe X x Y are secretly banging. It’s called ACTING, people!)

Tropes: I love wrist-grab, noncon, amnesia, noble idiot, fakecest etc - all the tropes fandom hates either because they are overused or because they are problematic. I want my life to be original, wholesome and conflict free. I want my fiction to be the opposite.

Whoever makes period stories where the characters are modern characters in period garb should be set on fire.

Authors: Meatbun is one of the best authors and probably in Top 3 novelists I’ve ever read and people who do not appreciate 2ha (unless they cannot read it due to literally being triggered) have bad taste. And before anyone jumps down my throat for being an illiterate, I have been reading all sorts of things for decades, and was reading Euripides and Livy by third grade, took whole classes on scholastic writing and 16th century English poetry, can and do read books in three languages, and read an insane amount of both Russian and English 18th and 19th century novels.

Also, while I don’t want to compare average danmei and average het web novel since I don’t think I’ve read enough of either (I probably read over 100 web novels total but I think I’d have to read way more), a good/well-regarded danmei is way better than a good/well-regarded het web novel. I’ve never found the latter that made me really emotionally invested or one that had a wow plot.

On non-web novel front, Victorian novels and novelists were amazing. Also the whole worship of Hemingway spare style is stupid - Hemingway could get away with it because he was Hemingway. Your average author would vastly benefit from adding color to their writing.

People look down on romance novels because they are for women. Nobody looks down on those stupid spy thrillers which are equivalent for men.

If you haven’t read Jorge Amado, you wasted your entire life.

The end.

#asks

21 notes · View notes

theanimeview · 3 years ago

Text

My Nitpick Issue with Sherlock in Moriarty the Patriot

By: Peggy Sue Wood | @pswediting

It may surprise some of you to know that I have degrees in book reading and writing. While earning those degrees I studied one specific time period more than the others--that being British Literature from late-17th/18th century through the early 20th century. This is to say that it is a time period I know a little more about than you might think. And early 1900s is probably my favorite period out of that timeline, particularly England under Victoria’s rule.

And, perhaps, because of this strange obsession I have with the period, I presently have a small bone to pick over Moriarty the Patriot.

It’s not the minor inaccuracies of the clothes, nor the adaptation of character designs. It’s not even the adjustment to social tendencies depicted that are more Japanese than British-English of any period thus far either--because those kinds of things happen frequently in adaptations. And it's not Moriarty or his backstory too! Because, again, this is an adaptation, and liberties will be taken to fit the new story (besides, even in the original works by Doyle the man’s backstory was inconsistent).

My issue is with the character of Sherlock and his supposed “deductions.” Well, maybe more accurately it's with the writing of Sherlock.

You see, Sherlock is almost always introduced the same way in an adaptation. He makes a judgment about someone (usually about Watson or the Watson stand-in) and then proves it using his observational skills. This introduction is important because it clarifies that the world of the characters is one based on where common sense and science not only work but make sense. His deductions are logical and based on some semblance of rationality. Here is an excerpt from the original novel:

“I knew you came from Afghanistan. From long habit the train of thoughts ran so swiftly through my mind, that I arrived at the conclusion without being conscious of intermediate steps. There were such steps, however. The train of reasoning ran, `Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then. He has just come from the tropics, for his face is dark, and that is not the natural tint of his skin, for his wrists are fair. He has undergone hardship and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly. His left arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. Where in the tropics could an English army doctor have seen much hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanistan.'

How does this prove we are in a world where common sense and logic works? Well, because he didn’t pull any of these deductions from thin air. He just used his eyes and common knowledge to make a quick judgment.

In the example above, everything that Sherlock assumes is true and based on reasonable assumptions about the time period and about what he can observe of the person before him.

The tan of Watson’s skin is something he notes because London is usually dark and wet around this season, so you’re unlikely to get a tan. The way the man walks and stands is also a thing he can observe, and fresh military men walk very differently from the average citizen or gentleman. These two observations, coupled with noticeable injury and limp could lead one to think that maybe he has just come back from the current war (the First Anglo-Afghan War). Of course, maybe he wasn’t injured in the war at all--maybe something else happened; however, you can make a pretty good guess that an abled bodied soldier would not be home and looking for a room in the middle of war-times if something hadn’t happened to him on the battlefield.

My point is that all of Sherlock’s deductions come from observing details, paying attention to the basics of the world (such as the ongoing war or understanding rigor mortis), and using your senses. Sure, there may be a few things the average person doesn’t know that Sherlock does, but that’s because Sherlock has studied different things and to a more serious degree. The level of understanding is different, but not impossible to achieve in one’s own time or effort. And, as another note, Sherlock is not perfectly observant all of the time. There are plenty of examples of him needing to take breaks, of him closing his eyes to block out distractions so he can better focus on what someone is saying, and of him smoking to zone out for a bit so that he can come back to a problem with fresh eyes at a later time.

It’s absolutely vital to Sherlock’s character, and the original story, that all of the deductions are based on the “possible,” which is why the introduction of Sherlock in Episode 6 of this adaptation immediately irritated me. Here is the scene:

Side note: I’m sorry it’s shown as a poorly made gif--I literally could not find a copy of the clip with English subtitles on YouTube so I could not include it as a video. If you want to look at it in the episode itself, it starts at about the 13:00 minute mark. EPISODE LINK)

Here is what bothers me so much. Why would a mathematician be checking to see if the staircase on a ship fits the golden ratio? More importantly, why would that in any way matter to Moriarty as a character? Based on what we’ve seen so far of this character, and we’ve had 6 and 1/2 episodes to define him so far, none of Sherlock’s statement makes sense here.

Like, at all. (And I know that this also happens in the manga--doesn’t make sense there either.)

You know what would make sense though? For the time period and the character development we’ve seen of Moriarty thus far? A pause to consider-- and maybe even compare--staircases on the ship between the main steps for passengers and the steps for commoners or staff.

Why would that make sense? Oh, thank you so much for asking. Time to get real nerdy here for a minute:

Class issues were a serious problem in Victorian England (as they are now, though in a different way). These issues were not necessarily the same as depicted in the show but it was still consistently present throughout the society as a whole. (A good, short read on the subject can be found here for those of you interested: Social Life in Victorian England.)

One way that this issue came out was in the very architecture of homes. In Victorian England, nobleman homes and estates were built with main staircases, where the residents and guests walked, and servent staircases, where the staff and other temporary employees walked. The difference in these stairs was huge, as the servant staircases were basically death traps.

In the late 1800s, a mathematician (and architect) named Peter Nickolson figured out the exact measurements that would generally ensure a comfortable and easy walk upstairs:

BTW: Here is a great video on the subject and how they were death traps: Staircases in Victorian England

However, Nickolson’s math and designs were not used regularly in the design of houses for years to come.

By the setting of the story, and given Moriarty’s interest in maths, his understanding of class issues, and beyond--this kind of knowledge would make far more sense than searching for the golden ratio in a man-made set of stairs.

Moreover, the golden ratio is generally interesting to mathematicians (to my understanding) because it can be seen in nature frequently. It is a pattern found everywhere, from the way that petals grow on flowers, to how seashells form, to freaking hurricane formations! So why on Earth would Moriarty be interested in an architect's choice to use such a ration when planning a staircase?

He wouldn’t, I believe. Nor would Sherlock generally be able to make that assumption based on his time gazing at the staircase, distance from said staircase, nor angle.

So what can he deduce, if not that? Well, he may be able to deduce that Moriarty is a nobleman based on his attire. He may also be able to deduce that the man is a student based on age, as in an earlier episode we were told he’s quite young to be teaching in university and appears close in age to his students. Maybe he’s a student of architecture? But, if he’s a nobleman--as we suspect he is based on his attire--then it's unlikely he works a labor-intensive job or one close to it. So, he must be in academia for academic reasons such as mathematics. Physics during that time, as an academic subject, focused more on lighting, heat, electricity, magnetism, and such. And, Sherlock notes that Moriarty is specifically looking at the stairs, not the lights of the ship.

So, BAM! I’ve deduced Moriarty is a young nobleman who is likely a student of mathematics. Perhaps he’s recently had a lesson on staircases or another algebraic concept that’s caused him to pause with momentary interest.

It makes a heck of a lot more sense than finding a “golden ratio” in a man-planned and man-made staircase... don’t you think? And, maybe, we can even deduce that rather than a student he’s a professor who has just thought up an interesting lesson--though that would be a BIG jump from the data we’ve been provided here.

Deductions that come from major leaps in logic make it seem like Sherlock is doing magic... and he is--because it is magical that people find it impressive or believable. It’s not. And I would argue that the original character would find it insulting based on his comments to Watson regarding being compared to other fictional detectives.

Pay in mind, I have this feeling about several adaptations, so my judgment on Moriarty the Patriot isn’t technically exclusive. It just hit me so hard in my first viewing that I felt I needed to share because generally, this issue of deductions becoming magic rather than stemming from logic doesn’t happen in the first two minutes of meeting Sherlock Holmes.

So... yeah. Thanks for coming to my absurd history/lit lesson through Moriarty the Patriot. I appreciate you sticking with me to the end and hope it was enjoyable.

You can watch the series on Funimation.com right now at: https://www.funimation.com/shows/moriarty-the-patriot

Overall, it’s a pretty good series; although there was a lot more child-murder than I expected...

#Moriarty the Patriot #Yuukoku no Moriarty #funimation #analysis #character analysis #character #sherlock holmes #james moriarty

45 notes · View notes

revolutionary-demosthenes · 5 years ago

Text

Essay #2

Why Laurens could’ve gone to Hamilton’s wedding… and why he didn’t.

John Laurens was on parole in Philadelphia when he received a letter from his best friend and lover, Alexander Hamilton. It contained, among other things, this excerpt: “Have you not heard that I am on the point of becoming a benedict? I confess my sins. I am guilty. Next fall completes my doom. I give up my liberty to Miss Schuyler.”

As Hamilton’s closest friend, it would make sense for Laurens to attend the wedding, and even possibly be in the wedding. It also makes sense to assume that Laurens couldn’t have come because he had been captured during the siege of Charleston that May 1779, and been on parole in Pennsylvania since. I assumed that. But if you do the math, it turns out Laurens definitely could have attended the wedding of Alexander Hamilton and Eliza Schuyler.

John Laurens was released in “early November” according to John Laurens and The American Revolution, by Gregory Massey. So let’s say “early November” means Nov. 1-15, 1780. Hamilton and Eliza were wed on December 14th, 1780, according to Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. Laurens was in Philadelphia (I think), and Hamilton was in Albany.

Albany and Philadelphia are approximately 233 miles apart. Now, supposing Laurens would’ve taken a horse, we consider that a horse’s average walking speed is four mph. So if Laurens traveled 10 hours a day, (breaks to sleep and eat and things like that, but this is still a low estimate of how long he would’ve traveled a day.) and only walked his horse, he would travel about forty miles a day. Divide 233 (the distance he had to travel) by 40 (the distance he goes every day), and you get 5.825. So this means that in almost 6 days, John Laurens could have reached Albany.

Enough math! The point is, even using very low assumptions John could have easily come to Alexander’s wedding. So why didn’t he?

This one would really stump Gregory Massey, because I cannot think of a platonic reason that Laurens would choose to miss Hamilton’s wedding. But if we go by the vast wealth of knowledge that suggests romance, we can come to several conclusions very easily...

The first being that Laurens most likely would just not want to see his boyfriend getting married to someone else. He had been Hamilton’s one and only for a long time, and to see him celebrating his love for someone else would have been very painful for him. Having to pretend that he was supportive friend, when really Laurens knew that Hamilton loved him like he loved Eliza would likely have also been hard for him.

Which leads into my second point. We already know that Laurens was a jealous person (read: John André…) so I wonder if Laurens was worried about keeping it together during the wedding… especially the kissing part. He was also hot-headed (read: King of France.) He may have had very mixed feelings about Hamilton’s marriage, but I don’t think he would’ve wanted to ruin it by saying something to anyone.

He also may have been worried about unconsciously acting oddly, and possibly even revealing his true feelings for Hamilton. If Laurens had had a few drinks and was acting overtly jealous towards Hamilton and Eliza, I feel like that would’ve gotten a few raised eyebrows.

I’ve talked about one type of jealousy, but what about another? Based on this passage from a letter from Hamilton to Laurens, “so your impatience to have me married is misplaced; a strange cure by the way, as if after matrimony I was to be less devoted than I am now.” We can determine that Laurens may have been partly supportive of the wedding at first, because he felt that Hamilton’s getting married to a woman might ‘cure’ him of loving Laurens. This is what Laurens was likely trying to do with Martha Manning. These feelings, developed by the staggering amount of homophobia in the 18th century, are some of the most tragic parts of John’s life. I think it is possible that that Laurens felt jealous that Hamilton could love women so easily, when he himself had tried for a long time to feel attracted to them, and was concerned about the difficulty of seeing that up close.

I also wonder if Laurens wanted to prove that Hamilton didn’t have to ‘break-up’ with him because he had a wife. I’d imagine that Laurens would’ve done anything he could to avoid another Francis Kinloch situation. Perhaps Laurens not attending the wedding was Laurens’s way of saying that his and Eliza’s world’s could simply be kept separate and then it would work.

Which also leads me to wonder whether Laurens felt that he was morally obligated to not come, because of his relationship with Hamilton. Is it possible he worried that he would encourage Hamilton to pursue their romance, even though he should be spending romantic time with his wife? If Laurens did feel that way, it probably partly stemmed from the letter in which Hamilton invites him to ‘the final consummation.’

Overall, we see Hamilton trying to integrate his two loves, and Laurens trying to keep them separate.

And in conclusion, Laurens could have gone to Hamilton’s wedding but he loved him too much to.

#John Laurens #Alexander Hamilton #Eliza Hamilton #wedding #letters #essay #jealousy #if my math is wrong please tell me #ditto with the dates and things #if your wondering about essay 1 #its not quite done and also its kinda just a summary #hope you enjoyed!#also I know that Laurens was elected envoy to France during this time #but Hamilton was too #so if Hamilton had time for a wedding #Laurens did too

59 notes · View notes

thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I'm pretty sure I saw you mention a while ago that you were disappointed by confessions of the fox, would you mind explaining why? I've seen mostly good things about it myself. If I misremembered then I'm sorry and I hope you have a good day :))

I think this is one of my less popular opinions. And I understand - we so rarely get historical fiction with trans folk as the titular character (indeed, we rarely get any fiction what that). So I get people’s desire to laud it.

For me though? It fundamentally didn’t work as a book. As a story.

Let me count the ways. (Apologies in advance for the length of this.)

First: If you’re trans-ing someone who was historically cis instead of seeking to find a real, historical trans or gender-nonconforming person, I have questions.

Most of the questions can be summed up as: Why?

I struggle with historical fiction that takes a cis person and re-imagines them as trans as if there aren’t already literal historical, real trans people out there whose stories can be told. It smacks as (unintended, well meaning) erasure of lived experiences.

Jack Sheppard, to the best of our knowledge, was a cis dude. There were trans folk in London in the 1710s and ‘20s. You might have to dig a bit for them, but they’re there. Because trans folk have always been there.

Second: Characterisation

This is more personal taste, but I found Jack and his girlfriend Bess to be inexcusably boring. How a trans, thief and gaolbreaker in 1720s gin-soaked London can be written as boring is anyone’s guess. But he was.

Jack had no real personality and I found his story to be uninteresting. Oh, he’s the world’s best thief and gaolbreaker, that’s nice. But on its own it isn’t enough.

He had few to no faults. Childhood trauma isn’t a personality. Nor is being trans. And the author relies heavily on gender + occupation (thief-ness) to equal personality. So it falls very flat.

Bess, his girlfriend, is a mixed-race sex worker from the Fens (even though actual real-Bess was from Edgeware). She seems to only exist to demonstrate that Jack is good at sex. She also veers a little into the Mystical Woman of Colour Healer Who Aids The White Person on their Journey of Self Discovery trope.

Neither Bess nor Jack undergo any real change in the book. They exist in a weird stasis and experience no development, despite living through some harrowing things. They’re wooden dolls who move through the story without really engaging with, or being influenced by, the things around them.

The other “main” character is a modern Academic who “found” this supposed “manuscript” of Jack’s life and is annotating it. His story unfolds in the foot notes and it’s just so messy if not a bit contrived. It didn’t make sense. I think the author was trying to convey that the Academic was in a sort of dystopian future, but if that’s the case it didn’t work. And if that’s not the case, the entire inclusion of the Academic’s story served only to annoy and take me out of the reading experience.

E.g. There’s a scene where the Academic is being taken to task by the Dean for playing stupid games on his phone during office hours and like honey, lapsed-historian/academic here, trust me the Dean doesn’t give a fuck what you do during your office hours so long as you’re in your office and students can come bother you about their poor marks.

The manuscript is supposedly being sought after by this pharmaceutical company for nefarious reasons that never struck me as being entirely realistic/believable. Also, the university was spying on this non-tenured, slightly useless Academic as if he somehow mattered? Which made zero sense. Anyway, it was stupid and should have been ripped out of the final version. OR changed substantially.

Jonathan Wild, the thief taker (main antagonist to Jack), is probably the only interesting person.

Third: Lack of Follow Through, or, the Fabulism Was Not Used Well

The book tries to blend in some fabulism to the world by giving Jack the ability to “hear” the thoughts of inanimate objects. This could have been fun and gone to some interesting places, but it failed to deliver.

I personally found the shoe-horning in of “capitalism commodifies everything” to be sloppy and heavy handed. It was done with little grace and didn’t sit right given that we are dealing with the early modern period. Yes, you can use the past to critique our modern woes, but do it intelligently. Don’t slap modern points of view and understandings of things onto the past and expect them to make sense.

Anyway, Jack spends the book hearing inanimate objects talk to him, asking him to “free” them, or something. And uh .. .it doesn’t go anywhere interesting after that.

Also the correlation one can draw from these objects to, you know, slaves, is uncomfortable. Especially as it’s the cargo of the EIC ships that Jack hears. I don’t think it’s intended in any sort of malicious way, but the allusion is there and I always found it to be distinctly uncomfortable.

Fourth: Misuse of Marxist Theory, or, More Heavy Handed Moralizing that Annoyed the Dear Reader because it wasn’t subtle and, more importantly, it wasn’t done intelligently.

So, the author is an academic - studies 18th century lit. Which is readily apparent as his Academic (self-insert) character is, I believe, supposed to be a historian and uh ... you can tell that the author doesn’t know enough to wing that. E.g. How he interprets some of the laws and customs of the time. Instead of understanding the social, economic and, most importantly, environmental issues that gave birth to laws like “the corporation of the city of London owns the streets so you can’t muckrake” he chooses to understand them through a very 21st century lens (and a Marxist one at that. I know I’m perhaps a bit uncool for this, but I find the application of Marxist theory to the early modern period to be ... not useful).

Do you know why, mid/late 17th century London passed these municipal laws? Because of the god damn fucking plague you numb nut. You absolute buffoon. It had nothing to do with “oh the City/government is evil and wants to own you” it had to do with the fact that no one cleaned the goddamn street. So the city took over doing it.

Prior to this, in London, you were supposed to keep the street in front of your building clear of waste, debris, refuse etc. No one did this, of course. I live where it’s cold and snows a lot and people can barely shovel the 2 sq ft of sidewalk in front of their driveway in the winter. I dread the idea of an average homeowner being expected to keep the street clear and clean.

Anyway, guess what dirty streets attract? Vermin. Guess what comes with vermin? Plague. Guess what happened in 1665/66? The great plague of London!

17th century England might not have understood germ theory, but they did understand correlation. (Also, the population of London was doubling at the back half of the 17th century and streets needed to be reliably cleared for through-traffic reasons etc. etc.)

ugh, sorry, that one in particular drove me up the wall. Not everything is a capitalist conspiracy. Especially when we’re talking about municipal by-laws from the 17th century.

And I understand the temptation to read a lot of modern interpretation of words like “corporation” and “company” onto bodies that used these same words in 17th and 18th centuries. But the weight, meaning and connotation of “the worshipful company of merchant adventurers” is different from, I don’t know, “the tech company google” or whatever. The early 18th century is when we start seeing the birth of the stock market, of “venture companies” (i.e. merchant adventure companies), of a lot of the language and proto-iterations of what will grow to be economic institutions of our time. But it doesn’t mean they’re the same and that difference is important. Because Jack Sheppard is a man living in 1720 he’s not going to be having our modern 21st century critiques of capitalism because his engagement with the economic systems of his time would have been radically different to our own experiences.

Fifth: Unbelievable Top Surgery & Recovery

So, Jack gets top surgery. In 1720s fever-ridden London. While quarantining in a brothel.

And he lived! No infection! No tearing! He was up and about in a matter of days. I don’t remember if his nipples survived the operation or not but somehow Jack did. Without anesthetics! Or you know, any concept of hygiene.

His Mystical Girlfriend Who Exists to Show How Good Jack is at Sex is also somehow Magically Very Literate and also Magically a Surgeon? and performs this surgery on Jack in the middle of a plague.

The entire ordeal was so poorly handled in terms of believability that I literally set the book down and said “what the fucking fuck” to the empty room then drank wine before finishing the chapter.

An aside, it is funny thinking about the quarantine chapters at this point. I read COTF when it first came out a few years ago. Sweet summer children, we none of us had any idea how to write quarantine scenes.

That reminds me: the entire quarantine thing was presented as the government trying to control movement and take away people’s rights etc. instead of a very normal, typical response that cities had been enacting since 1350. Samuel Pepys, who lived through the 1665/66 epidemic, barely even notes the restrictions. He’s like just “hmmm I’d love to go to the pub but I also don’t want to die. so. *shrug*”

At the time of the author’s writing, most of us in the western world had no idea how normal and day-to-day disease was for our ancestors and yes, sometimes there would be crackdowns to try and curb it if an epidemic hit. That was part and parcel of life. So again, Jack and Bess wouldn’t be like “ooooh we’re 21st century slightly libertarian lefitsts who think the government is doing this to control us and for nefarious purposes”. Much more likely, they would have been like Pepys and viewed it as nuisance, albeit a necessary one.

Sixth: Overall Lack of Realism

I think I’ve noted the big moments where I was like “no one in the early 18th century would think that I’m pretty certain”. This isn’t to say people didn’t grouse, complain about London government (and the king etc.), critique or question the world they lived in. They absolutely did! Regularly. With great verve and gusto, if the broadsheets are anything to go by. But their critiques, their complaints, suggestions for bettering life, are not the same as ours. Because how could they be? They lived in a different world, were responding to specific things, grew up hearing and believing certain things etc.

Jack, aside from having minimal to no character, really did read like a modern slightly-libertarian leftist who was plunked into a novel that takes place three hundred years ago.

In addition to unrealistic political views, his understanding of body, gender, sexuality and identity also read as incredibly modern. Now this is harder, because we have so few extant sources from that time on those who lived non-gender conforming lives, and from their point of view, so yes creative imagining and interpretation is the rule of the day for writing that.

But, we do know how in general the average person engaged and understood gender and sexuality and that would, naturally, inform anyone whose experience was different. And that base line of “probably what a typical cis Englishman or woman felt about their body and identity” wasn’t present. At all.

Indeed, gender engagement at that time was interesting. The concept of the body, the role of the physical body, how it was interpreted is absolutely fascinating and the author could have done some really cool things with that. But he didn’t. He went for slapping a modern interpretation onto the past.

At this point, write a dystopian novel and make Jack a fictional character. That probably would have gone over better, for me at least. The conceit can remain the same: It’s the year 4056 and an Academic found a manuscript from the year 3045 when the Dystopia Was a Thing - and go from there.

---

I think part of what made this very popular and why people seem so taken with it is that it reads smart. It reads like someone who has immersed themselves in that world etc. because of the slang and language used.

Yet, for me, as someone who has studied this period extensively, especially queerness in London in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, it read flat and unrealistic.

I was initially very enthused when I started it. There are some posts to that effect on my blog. But it very quickly went south. It tries very hard to be Radical and Smart and Subversive and Critiquing Everything and so I think it fails at the fundamental thing it should be doing: telling a good story.

(Note: The book does try and address racism in London at this time. It also felt a bit forced. And Jack seemed to have no prejudices or preconceived notions about Indian and Black folk which isn’t realistic. Like, it might make him #Problematic but my dude, you’re writing a man born in 1702. He’s going to have some iffy views. That can be challenged! Absolutely. But they still would have existed.)

---

Thank you for the ask! I again apologize for the length of the reply.

#reply #ask #anon #lit #books #writing #confessions of the fox

26 notes · View notes

jaepies · 4 years ago

Text

𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - attack on titan

eren x fem!oc

attack on titan au

inspired by 'see you in my 19th life' webtoon

author's note ; eunji is the 18th life name whilst hyejin is her general name :)

intro : sweet summer day

─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

memories are strange entities. they lay dormant in the cave we call the mind until all of a sudden - something as minuscule as a waft of a scent walks by, triggering a forgotten incident from decades ago.

as humans, we wonder about the memories of our previous lives which remain with our souls eternally. we ask questions about: who were we? how did our past selves use to act? perhaps they were delinquents who wreaked havoc on the neighbourhood or perhaps they were a pair of goody-two-shoes who could do no wrong.

maybe we even had a significant other whose love used to fill our days with boundless bliss?

it all seemed like a classified secret which the brain could never gain access to no matter how hard it racked all its neurones in an attempt to search for all the answers.

however, hyejin ban must have been a glitch in the system.

when her first life occurred, she didn't think much of it and lived it to the fullest as much as a working-class girl could in the 1800s (society was something of a different nature in those time). she grew up with plenty of friends and siblings, fell in love with a boy who had lived next door and worked as an average house-wife whilst the husband provided the money required to live comfortably with not much to worry about except for disease.

to say that hyejin was surprised when every detail of her previous self came flooding back to her would be an understatement. there is no word in the english dictionary to describe the shock which devoured her.

she had heard conspiracies of those who claimed to remember fragments of their past lives in her village before however she never thought them to be a thing of truth. it was as if all the memories had been transferred onto a hard drive and inserted into her new body, making her age at least 80 years as her 'life' flashed right before her juvenile eyes.

nonetheless, she tolerated having two sets worth of memories and had a rather quiet, peaceful existence with only her family to bid her a farewell as she silently passed. she watched as the 19th century came to an end and the world transitioned into a new one, marking an end of an era.

flash forward a few more lives and her soul had endured more than anyone could ever comprehend. each body presenting a new perspective on the mixed bag of earth. each body which she took on was distinctly different from the last as all her lives came in all different shapes and sizes as well as randomising which gender she was. from world wars to famine to milestones such as the first man walking on the moon, hyejin's mind remembered it all. only to leave it behind as the never-ending cycle of death and reincarnation continued.

some lives were shorter than others as unfortunate environments cut the thread of life much too soon, leaving much of the life to fall to the pits of hell. sometimes hyejin was treat unfairly as she suffered the struggles of poverty and faced many of the evils which the world had to offer. yet instead of living filled with resentment and agony, she took these as opportunities to grow wiser as a being. eventually, school became repetitive as the knowledge taught had already been ingrained within her.

as hyejin became used to her circumstances and gained a better understanding of what was happening, she set rules to live by. one of which was to let go of any burdens and troubles of past lives which could mental strain to her present and subsequent self.

﹝•••﹞

hyejin was rebirthed for the 18th time as 'eunji yun' and quickly she learnt that she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. she grew up surrounded by maids ready to cater for her every wish and need, it was a life where money would never be an issue and her family showered her more love than she had ever encountered before. at the age of 6, her family brought a younger sister into the world who not before long began to mean the absolute world to <> and she took it upon herself to fill the other half of the parental figures that was left empty by her hard-working father.

the sun was shining brightly when hyejin's mother guided her to the family car, telling her vaguely that she had business with another mother at another household not too dissimilar from theirs. the girl let her curiosity get the better of her and asked why she had to come along - her mother just turned to look at her with a mischievous glint in her eye and replied with a face plastered with a simple smile that held no information. hyejin despite being wise beyond her years reacted with a childish sigh and dramatic slump in her seat as the car started to drive away.

soon a house in the distance came into view, the car slowing down as the wheels entered the extensive drive. hyejin thought her house had been grand however this house was the epitome of luxury even the air had the distinct smell of the rich. on the journey, she had been told this was the residence of a wealthy chairman whose son was of a similar age to her.

upon walking in she couldn't help but gasp from the grandiose of it all, the chandeliers hung on the ceiling twinkling away as the striking staircase sat in the centre of the foyer. her awe was shattered as she heard a chuckle infused with honey from a woman whose aura held as much awe as the impressive atmosphere of the interior did.

'you must be miss eunji yun, what a pleasure to meet you. i'm carla jeager.'

'pleased to make your acquaintance, thank you for inviting my mother and i to your household.'

all the etiquette lessons were quickly put into action as hyejin's voice uttered the stock response which she had practised numerous times growing up.

carla found the amusement in this textbook conversation and responded with another sweet chuckle

'no need to be so formal, your mother and i are very good friends, please make yourself at home.'

she spoke with such a heart-warming tone that felt so down to earth, it was like listening to melodic tunes of birds chirping - you wouldn't believe that her family was one with the highest status and wealth.

'carla, should we brew a pot of tea?'

her mother interjected whilst handing over her faux fur jacket to the maid who had discreetly made their way beside hyejin in the foyer. she had not even noticed that she had already slipped off her diamond-encrusted heels.

'ah, what a good idea! let's move to the kitchen'

eagerly the pair of mothers walked side by side already engrossed in a different conversation it was clear that they had much to catch up on.

swiftly after pulling her sneakers off, hyejin started to take a few steps before carla turned around, halting her,

'there's no need to follow us, i'm sure you would have a far more entertaining time with my son who you will find in the library up the stairs. will you be able to find your way?'

hyejin hadn't noticed the glow which consumed her eyes as she smiled at her, there was an extremely low probability that she wouldn't do what carla had asked of her.

'of course ma'am, don't worry too much about me and please proceed with your intended business.'

as hyejin heard the receding the steps of the mothers she couldn't quite help but catch wisps of their conversation.

'she conducts and speaks so eloquently for a 12-year-old.'

'sometimes i forget that she's even a child at all.'

holding onto the handrails, she looked back with a knowing smile as she began her descent up the stairs. following carla's instructions, the library was easily found. the walls filled to brim with all types of books from fairytales to encyclopedias on insects and ladders at every corner to aid with the books at the very top shelf that was too high for even the tallest of humans. the centre of the room held plush sofas and chairs clearly carefully chosen for the purpose of being able to read enjoyably.

hyejin's eyes fixed themselves onto a figure, not much taller than the 3rd shelf, desperately trying to grab at a book that was just out of his reach. his tiptoes only doing so much to increase his height, the girl scoffed in amusement at the sight in front of her and strolled over to the black-haired boy.

'need a hand?'

she hadn't meant for there to be a snarky tone however the words which tumbled out appeared as condescending when in reality she had just wanted the tiny boy who had yet to have a growth spurt.

'who are you? i don't need any help.'

his brows were furrowed together and his voice filled with defensiveness - hyejin thought to herself that it would be entertaining to watch this stuck up boy act in a childish manner.

going against the prideful boy's wishes, she reached over his head to slide the book that he wanted out of the bookshelf.

it wasn't long before reams and reams of disgruntled refusals came flowing out his mouth.

'get out of my way'

well, he was certainly direct with the way he spoke and with his words.

'you're in the way-'

the exasperated boy did not get to finish his second rude remark before being smacked on the face by the book which he had so urgently wanted.

this is what you most definitely call karma.

'you should mind your manners kiddo'.

it barely took a second before an ear-splitting screech encompassed the whole house.

─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

3 notes · View notes

ladyonfire28 · 5 years ago

Note

28 years old and still not married (back in the 18th century) must have been a great pressure for both girls. Also, Marianne looks like she didn't get married. Probably a person of no compromises. Always curious to read your comments, so what are your thoughts about this matter?

I also thought that, but actually women didn’t marry very young around the time of French Revolution ! I did some research and girls could marry at the age of 12 (with the authorization of their parents), but on average french women got married around the age of 27 between 1770 and 1780 ! So Héloise is barely above that. The thing that was really interesting to see is that in 1970, the average was 23 haha.

Héloïse’s sister must have been around 29/30 when she was about to marry so that’s a bit more above the average but it’s still quite fine.

But I think their mom had a hard time forcing her daughters to marry anyway. I mean the older sister literally killed herself because she didn’t want to marry, so I think her mom was aware that she didn’t want that and she may have waited until the very last moment before forcing her daughter to marry someone. And I also think she took her time finding the best man possible for her. Like she did for Héloise, I think she tried to find a man who was in Italy and who was ready to marry a woman who is a bourgeois but who’s not that rich either. It must not have been easy.

But yeah, Héloïse and her sister weren’t too old for marriage so their age wasn’t an issue i believe ! And i think their mom tried to wait the most she can before forcing them.

For Marianne, she said she didn’t know if she was going to marry since she wasn’t forced to. I don’t think it was a dream of hers anyway. She’s very independent and her job makes her travel a lot. And marrying could have also meant the end of her career and i don’t think she would have wanted that.

And I think after knowing Héloïse she couldn’t have married someone anyway. I mean of course she could have fallen in love with someone else. Maybe meeting Heloise even made her realize how it felt to be truly in love with someone. And it opened her the possibility to love someone else that way. But she probably would have only felt like that with another woman so I don’t think marriage wasn’t in her plans at all aha.

#ask #anon #portrait of a lady on fire #portrait de la jeune fille en feu #poalof spoilers

20 notes · View notes

cromulentbookreview · 5 years ago

Text

Sonata in A! K331! 3rd Movement!

Funny thing is, this is surprisingly accurate.

And by that I mean: The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu!

You don’t have to be a music fan to know the name Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. In fact, you probably have no idea what in the hell a Sonata in K K331 Third Movement even is until you hear it. Then you’ll know it immediately. In fact, you can know nothing about Mozart but still be familiar with many of his pieces. Maybe you had the misfortune to be forced to watch the movie Amadeus* in your German class (a movie that is probably not appropriate to show public high school students even if it’s dubbed in German) or have seen the 30 Rock parody episode where, instead of writing music, they create a porn video game. My point is: you know Mozart. Everyone knows Mozart, especially kids who were made to learn piano. Or, in my case, piano AND violin**. The main reason for that is, well, public domain, but also because Mozart is the shit.

I mean, I’m more of a Beethoven girl myself, and I have a lot of love for the 19th century Russians (Tchaikovsky and The Five FTW!), but, seriously, if you learn anything about music, you learn about Mozart. And, as someone semi-fluent in German, who has dedicated most of her life to learning German, you have no choice but to learn about the greats of German music. Yes, Austrians count as part of German music. As I’ve mentioned before, there was no “Germany” until 1871, and I’m including any and all native German speakers as part of German music. Austrians speak German. Kind of. I mean, 99.9% of my German teachers were either from southern Germany or Austria, so I may have a bit of a bias...though my main bias is against Swiss German which literally is not German stop calling it that, Switzerland!

What were we talking about?

Oh. Yeah. Mozart.

You know he had a sister, right? One who was a musical prodigy in her own right, who used to play for the courts of Europe alongside her little brother, right?

No?

Yeah, you probably don’t. Because back in the 18th century, women weren’t allowed to be composers or musical prodigies. Once they grew up, they got married, had children and were subsequently erased from history while the men in their family achieve immortality.

Meet Maria Anna Mozart, known by her family as Nannerl.

The Kingdom of Back is Nannerl’s story.

Salzburg! 1759! Nannerl Mozart is only eight, but is desperate to please her father and prove her mettle as a musician. The Mozart family is in a perpetual state of one-missed-paycheck-away-from-homelessness, and Nannerl’s stage dad, Leopold, hopes to cash in on the whole child prodigy thing. Unfortunately, Nannerl’s first demonstration for a court musician goes wrong when she’s distracted by her baby brother, Wolferl. That night, Nannerl dreams of a beautiful kingdom full of music, and of a beautiful boy with glowing blue eyes.

As she gets older, Nannerl is as shocked as her parents when Lil Wolferl shows a knack for music. She’s horrified to discover that she feels jealous of her baby brother, who idolizes her. One night, Nannerl and Wolferl are woken up by a strange light coming from their music room. When they investigate, they find the beautiful boy from Nannerl’s dream, in the flesh. He steals Nannerl’s music notebook then promptly jumps out the window.

Like so:

Complete with broken glass.

Anyway, the next time Nannerl sees the boy, she’s out in Salzburg with her brother on a shopping trip when she opens the door to a shop’s storage room, only to find it leads to the magical kingdom she’d seen in her dream. The boy, Hyacinth, wants Nannerl’s help to reclaim his throne. In exchange, he will make sure Nannerl gets her greatest wish: to be remembered forever.

Shortly after, Nannerl and Wolferl are called to Vienna to play for the Emperor and Empress. Wolferl puts on quite the show, charming everyone in the room and even proposing to the Emperor and Empress’s youngest daughter. It’s after this that Nannerl and Wolferl’s parents decide to take them on a massive tour of Europe. In the long, dull carriage rides between destinations, Nannerl and Wolferl come up with a name and origin story for Hyacinth and the magical kingdom that they saw: The Kingdom of Back. As the tour continues and Wolfer’s fame rises, Nannerl worries more and more about being forgotten - that her fate is sealed: she will never be a composer and a musician, instead she will become a wife and mother and nothing more than a footnote in history.

But the Kingdom of Back is more than just a fantasy story shared between two bored kids. Hyacinth’s magic has an effect on our world, causing calamities and illness. As Nannerl struggles to cope with her conflicting emotions, Hyacinth starts to seem less like a fairy prince and more like something sinister. But his promises of fame and immortality to Nannerl are so very, very tempting. I mean, wouldn’t you be a little jealous if your baby brother was an 18th century child rockstar?

(Ok, the throwing of underthings may not have happened to Mozart, but it definitely happened to Liszt so that episode of the Simpsons isn’t entirely inaccurate).

If you come into The Kingdom of Back expecting it to be something like Marie Lu’s other novels - namely, action packed sci-fi/fantasy serieses - you are bound to be disappointed. The Kingdom of Back is unlike all of Lu’s other novels - it is a standalone historical fantasy dedicated to someone who, in spite of her talent, was relegated to the dustbin of history just because she was a girl. I adore Marie Lu’s books (the Legend trilogy is probably one of the best YA trilogies ever - if you haven’t read it, stop everything and do that now, please) and I’m also a fan of music, 18th century Germans, and 18th century German musical composers so I wasn’t at all put off knowing that The Kingdom of Back wasn’t going to be like her other books. It was more like “holy shit, Marie Lu is wrote a book about Mozart’s sister, put it in my brain immediately, please.” The Kingdom of Back is just wonderful, you guys. Lu beautifully captures what it’s like to have a sibling that you love, but also envy. Lu’s writing is lyrical and enchanting without crossing into purple prose territory. Music can be difficult to capture in prose, but Lu manages to do so without alienating the reader with too many weird technical musical terms that would be off putting to the average reader (hi!). The way time works in the book is weird - you’re never quite sure when you are at any given time or how old anyone else, unless you have the timeline of the Mozart children’s grand tour open while you read. Months can go by in a single sentence which can be a bit jarring, but the book manages to condense a decade into 300 pages. I’d rather have 300 pages and a few pacing issues than way too much detail within 900 pages.

My absolute favorite aspect of this book is Nannerl herself. Nannerl, as an 18th century girl, is bound by 18th century constraints - she’s not allowed to compose openly, as herself. She’s not allowed to talk back. She’s expected to look after her brother, as her position as older sister makes her mom-in-training. Nannerl is a good and proper 18th century lady, and she hates it. She hates the limits placed on her by society, but at the same time, she’s desperate to please her parents and earn their praise. Because what else can she do? It’s the shit situation women have experienced since time immaterial: conform, or else. Nannerl may seem meek and submissive compared to the likes of June from Legend or Emika from Warcross, but make no mistake, she is just as strong as they are. Her strength lies in her quiet resilience. Nannerl can’t exactly fight back against the system the way June and Emika do, so she rebels in other, quieter ways. She maintains eye contact for her father, waiting for him to break first or stays quiet when she’s expected to voice her praises. She creates a whole fantasy world in which to take refuge. Nannerl’s way of fighting back is subtle because it has to be.

Unfortunately, it takes only a click of a Wikipedia link to know how Nannerl’s story ends. It is bittersweet and something that will definitely strike a chord (pun absolutely intended) with any girl or woman who reads The Kingdom of Back.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Any girl or woman who has ever seen her accomplishments ignored or passed over in favor of a man’s, anyone with a sibling they’re just a little bit jealous of, music fans, Mozart fans, Marie Lu fans, anyone in the mood for a gorgeously-written YA historical fantasy.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: Haydn aficionados, Leopold Mozart, children who were forced to learn piano, men’s rights activists, people who would mistake an 18th century girl’s quiet resilience for weakness.

RELEASE DATE: March 3, 2020 - hey, I promise cromulent reviews, not “on time” reviews or “reviews in advance of publication.”

RATING: 4/5

MOZART RATING:

BEETHOVEN FANS, WHEN ENCOUNTERED BY MOZART FANS:

You can hear the 5th symphony with every haw.

*Please remember the movie Amadeus is also a historical fantasy - Salieri and Mozart were peers and were most likely friends, if not friendly. Also, Salieri had like, 8 kids and at least 1 mistress, he wasn’t some pious weirdo like he’s portrayed in the movie. I mean, he was Italian. F. Murray Abraham was awesome in it, though. My point is, don’t get your history from movies. It’s a bad idea.

Get it from Wikipedia, like a normal person.

That soundtrack, though. If you want an intro to Mozart’s music, that is a good way to go.

**Ahahahaha I was, then and now, and will forever remain, terrible at both.

4 notes · View notes

jeanjauthor · 6 years ago

Video

youtube

Clothes vs. Money: Status and Self Worth in the 18th Century

Writers, this is an EXCELLENT summation of how important the quality & appearance of clothing is in a pre-modern society.

Clothing today is incredibly cheap: a single day’s wages will get you pants or skirt, shirt, socks and underwear, all of it brand new, straight off the rack, in a vast variety of colors and patterns. A week’s wages will get you shoes and coat and a couple changes of underwear, extra shirt, extra pants or skirt (or a dress).

Prior to the 20th century...it could take you more than a month to earn enough money for a new shirt, or underclothes, or trousers, or shoes. Not and, but or. You’d be lucky to get two of those things at average to good wages for the vast majority of people...and since the vast majority still worked on farms prior to the industrial revolution, and with it, the agricultural revolution, you’d only see that kind of money during or shortly after harvest season.

Listen to John Townsend reading from these journals. Take your inspiration from them. Be realistic in what your characters would be wearing, how often they’d get a chance to do laundry, and make sure your characters are clothed appropriately for their situation.

In the movie Ever After, Danielle (Cinderella) borrows a fancy noblewoman’s dress left at the painter’s studio to go rescue her fellow servant. The dress is only available to her because her best friend growing up is the painter’s apprentice, and because painting a portrait can take weeks of work, so it was often just easiest to leave the clothing on a mannekin form while the owner went off in their other clothes to do other things. We might think the dress she normally wears isn’t too bad, but it’s only slightly above what the other servants wear, and it’s definitely not new.

In the modern era, this is also true, though the lines are a bit more blurred. We have Casual Fridays, where you can come to work at some places in jeans and a teeshirt, or a Hawai’ian shirt...and we have formal suits and dresses and skirtsuits. Some situations you can get away with a Casual Friday. Others, you’d never get away with it. Lawyers, for example, are expected to wear suits or the equivalent at all times, to project an air of professionalism & seriousness.

We have a variety of uniforms that we have to wear for certain jobs or industries, too. Not just UPS or Military or Post Office or Law Enforcement. Have you noticed the variety of uniforms in the restaurant industry? Some places (McDonalds, etc), issue you your uniform. It isn’t yours to keep, however; once you’re done working for them, you have to hand it back in. You also have to keep it clean and neat at your own expense. Housekeeping staff for hotels have to do this, too.

Other places simply say “wear black pants (or skirt, but no yoga pants or jeans) and white shirt, no teeshirts or logos (not even a lil alligator or polo pony)”...and that’s all you have to wear. You have to supply your own “uniform.” It could be almost any style of trousers or non-logo non-tee shirt. Others allow you to wear a serious, sober, law-office-worthy tie...while some allow you to wear “an amusing tie of publicly acceptable subject material”...aka no naked-lady ties, or ties covered in swearwords...but you could wear Loony Tunes characters like Bugs Bunny, or a Transformers tie if you wanted.

However, clothing is incredibly cheap; if you’re used to having money in your pocket for clothes every few months in real life, you probably haven’t thought about having to repair your clothes. Shirt gets ripped? Go buy a new one! No big deal! ...Right?

You cannot take that attitude, that mindset, into a pre-20th-century tech-level world.

Just to give you an example, making the cloth to make clothes took HUGE amounts of effort before the advent of industrialization, from the farm machines to automatically pick the cotton through to the carding and spinning and weaving machines. Prior to all of that (and yes, the mechanized industrialization of agriculture is PART of why clothes are so cheap...and why wool, which still has to be sheared by professional shearers working one sheep at a time, is so much more expensive!)...it took 12 full time spinners to keep 1 full time weaver working at the loom.

What does that mean? It means that the 12 spinners listed above did nothing but spin all day long. Aside from maybe making their meals, they didn’t plough (plow) the fields, they didn’t feed the livestock, they didn’t shepherd the sheep, they didn’t mend the fences, they didn’t craft the furniture or repair the roof thatching... A lot of families grew flax specifically for turning it into linen thread, and spend every spare moment they had spinning thread, to either hopefully get them enough thread to set up a loom in the winter months when there was’t a lot of outdoor activity going on, or to sell to professional weavers, in hopefully good enough quality to fetch the best price for their balls of thread.

Ploughmen (whatever gender) would be outside all day long, plowing, weeding, harvesting, mending things around the farm and would only spin if there was time. Housekeepers and child tenders would spin while food was cooking (which could take hours), or while laundry was drying...but it would still probably take roughly 30 part-time spinners to keep 1 weaver in constant production.

Also, consider the fact that it takes literal days to set up a loom...and god help you if you got it wrong and didn’t discover the mistake right away, because you’d spend hours more undoing and redoing it right. Dependind on the width of the fabric, the tightness of the weave, the type of fabric and the kind of loom (Navajo vertical looms are different beasts from European treadle looms...and a lightweight linen suitable for handkerchiefs and veils isn’t going to be at all like a heavy canvas, never mind a rug weight material), the swiftness of making the cloth means that your progress might be measured in inches per day, feet per day, or if you’re very lucky, yards per day...and that’s assuming you have enough thread on hand for both warp and weft.

...Think that’s a lot? I haven’t even gotten into all the effort required for finding and making dyes, madders (fixing agents to help keep the colors from fading too fast in sunlight) and getting the consistencies right. (Contrary to popular belief you could get some bright colors out of natural dyes; black was the absolute most difficult to dye, not purple. The materials for making black dye were far cheaper to acquire than for purple, but still, difficult to dye and keep it actually black in sunlight.)

Nor have I gotten into sumptuary laws, which tried to dictate what a person of a certain social rank could wear, including furs and silks. (Anyone could wear squirrel fur, for example, but to wear mink or ermine, you had to be waaay up high on the social ladder.) ...People still wanted to wear things “above their station” and sumptuary laws were difficult to enforce at times...but sometimes they were enforced ruthlessly. So it was risky at times.

Danielle in Ever After would’ve been whipped & imprisoned/indentured for wearing that fancy dress, if people had realized she was a peasant, not a noblewoman. But for her, the risk was worth it, to save a man from being sold off to the colonies for indentured servitude, to bring him back to his wife and his family & friends.

So John’s not kidding when he says that people in the late 1700s/early 1800s invested money in their clothes as a sign of their social status. You want people to treat you with more respect, you have to look like you have the social status, and that preceived social status is often dependent on wealth.

Buying new is not the only option, either. We have places like the Rack where they sell off for cheap the odds and ends, remnants of garments that just didn’t sell at listed price in the big department stores, or they might have a few flaws that the big stores reject (missing button, wonky stitching, etc), but otherwise the garment is in good shape and still basically brand new, so it’s sold for maybe $20 instead of $80

We also have the true thrift stores, such as Goodwill, Salvation Army, St. Vincent de Paul, Value Village, and those are just the local charity/donated goods shops in my area. You can visit these places and get that same dress at $80 for just $4-$8, but it’ll have been worn by someone else, laundered (well, one hopes), and put up for sale.

The same sort of system existed in pre-industrial societies. Mercedes Lackey has a beautiful scene in her first Bardic Voices, The Lark & the Wren novel, wherein the main character, the Wren, is taken to various used clothing sellers in the market places of the city she’s in, and given advice on what to buy, which includes torn and stained clothing, and how to hide the stains, using ribbon trim and embroidery and applique patches, or even just wearing a vest over a shirt that’s stained on the chest area.

Since Wren is trying to make a living as a bard/minstrel, it’s considered appropriate for her to have clothing that has fancy, eye-catching trim on it, as part of her entertainer persona. When she’s busking in the street (performing for passers-by to hopefully get pennies...or pins...in payment), the more eye-catching, the better, since it goes with her ear-catching music.

And when she gets a job providing polite, soothing music in an upper-class bordello/brothel style establishment, she wears more subdued clothes. Why? To help her blend into the background, since the focus is to provide soothing, pleasant music while the rich patrons wait for their chosen paid companions to be available. They’re not going to put up with someone wearing screaming shades of red and yellow and green with ribbon-strung bells dangling off their elbows...but neither will they put up with someone wearing the cheapest, crappiest woven fabrics visibly stained and ragged, badly patched or torn.

Since the adage “the clothes make (the social status) of the man” has been around for ages and ages...I can only imagine that clothing--and the kind of high-tech gear you can afford--far into the future will also still continue to be a mark of unspoken social status for humankind.

...I mention gear because aliens might or might not have any need for clothing, but they’ll certainly have a need for gear, and the higher the quality the gear, or the more functional it is, the more likely they’ll be considered higher quality in social status, too.

Also, functionality is a key factor, because social status isn’t just about kings and queens at the top and peasants and slaves at the bottom. It’s also about what kinds of society your characters move around in. You wear clothes appropriate to being a sailor while on a ship, but you will want different outfits when you’re a blacksmith apprentice, versus a clockmaker’s helper, versus a farm laborer, versus a nobleman’s son.

A nobleman’s son wouldn’t want to wear the leather apron or smock that a blacksmith would, but if you walked into a smithy and asked for a job while wearing fine silks, you’d get turned down (and laughed at behind your back), but if you walked in wearing wool (which doesn’t catch on fire; it just scorches and smolders and goes out) and leather (ditto), you’ll be taken seriously.

Your gear is the same. The Millenium Falcon was a rusted bucket of bolts and patch jobs compared to Queen Amidala’s personal, sleek, silvery interstellar transport, but it was still a fantastically swift, maneuverable ship. The Queen’s personal yacht would get her respect from port authorities. The Falcon’s capabilities would get it respect from other smugglers and crime bosses, because it looks like it can’t go very fast and should fall apart at any minute...but it won’t fall apart. It’ll blast past everything else & keep going...provided you can keep it patched together.

Anyway, long speech short, watch this video, and think about how your stories and your characters protray their social status, their wealth, via their clothes & gear...and remember, pre-20th-century, clothing is expensive. You and I have each probably have so many different outfits on our shelves and in our dresser drawers and wardrobe cupboards and closets that we’d be considered damn near royalty in terms of pure clothing-wealth, compared to just about anywhere in the 11th Century.

Clothing makes the character, and the story.

4 notes · View notes

ltcol-laurens · 7 years ago

Text

Explanation of the Hamilton-Laurens relationship

- Some things to know about Hamilton: He was known to be quite promiscuous with the ladies. He was married to Elizabeth Schuyler and he also had an affair. Also Hamilton grew up in the Caribbean on an island where gay people would’ve been exiled to and allowed to roam on the island so he would’ve been more aware of gay people whereas Laurens definitely had some internalised homophobia from his father who was a conservative and religious man which most likely contributed to Laurens’ self-loathing.

- They wrote essays against slavery together

- Both aide-de-camp for Washington and in Valley Forge together (shared a room)

- Laurens himself never told Hamilton that he had a wife and daughter, but Hamilton found out about Martha and Frances when he was asked to forward some letters from Martha to John a year and a half after they met.

- The creator of ‘Hamilton’ Lin-Manuel Miranda has confirmed that in his musical Hamilton is bisexual and he believes that Hamilton was in fact bisexual. This is important because Lin would’ve had to do a whole lot of research for ‘Hamilton’ not just for the songs but to get into Hamilton’s head as an actor: ‘Lin-Manuel Miranda himself is aware of this; he has confirmed that the Hamilton in his show, at least, is bisexual.’

- Hamilton was Laurens’ second in his duel with Charles Lee

- Laurens referred to his wife as ‘dear girl’ and referred to Hamilton as ‘dear boy’ and never used these terms for anyone else.

- Hamilton was the most supportive person of Laurens’ black regiment

- Hamilton and Laurens (probably) got their portraits done together when John was a prisoner of war and Hamilton visited him near his 26th Birthday.

- When Laurens died Hamilton (who wrote loads about anything) had like 7 sentences to say about

- This is insignificant but Laurens was awful at writing people back and this one time this guy asked Hamilton to get Laurens to write him back because the person he wrote fastest back to was Hamilton

- Hamilton had a grandson called Laurens as his son John Church Hamilton was the one that found those letters and he really admired John Laurens who also died in his 20s. He also had a great-grandson called Laurens who died when he was 25.

- One source states that: ‘Hamilton showed a strong attachment to the South Carolinian that he never demonstrated even to the woman he later married’

- In Ron Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton biography he states that his relationship with Laurens was the most intimate relationship of his life

- Hamilton’s son said: ‘In the intercourse of these martial youths, who have been styled ‘Knights of the Revolution’ there was a deep fondness of friendship, which approached the tenderness of feminine attachment.’

- Hamilton and Laurens wrote letters to each other whilst Laurens was in France and South Carolina and Hamilton was fighting the war somewhere else.

- There are parts of the letters that have been crossed out that would lead on to something quite suggestive. There are lots of missing letters.

- The language used in the 18th Century between men was quite affectionate however these letters are something else

- For example: ‘a strange cure by the way, as if after matrimony I was to be less devoted than I am now. ‘ This quote from Hamilton to Laurens appears to be stating that Laurens believed that if Hamilton got married he would stop having feelings and be ‘cured’ of whatever feelings he was feeling towards Laurens.

- There is a lot of innuendo that went further than the average military male friendship

- Some more examples: ‘You know the unalterable sentiments of your affectionate Laurens’ and‘Yrs for ever A Hamilton’

- Hamilton was not afraid to be affectionate as he didn’t have the same rigid moral codes that Laurens was subjected to. For example: ‘Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that ’till you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. ‘

- When Laurens left for South Carolina to work on his black regiment, Hamilton begged George Washington to let him have a position in the South as well but Washington refused. Hamilton wrote: ‘In short Laurens I am disgusted with every thing in this world but yourself and very few more honest fellows…’

- At the top of one of the letters the publisher (probably John Church Hamilton, Alexander’s son) wrote: ‘I must not publish the whole of this.’

#of course my longest post was gonna be lams #lams #laurens x hamilton #hamilton #laurens

221 notes · View notes

pyratetm-a · 7 years ago

Note

what did pirates eat in their natural habitat

early modernist ama : always accepting tbh : @roipirate

I know you know the answer to this because I know I’ve rambled about it in discord enough. BUT FOR THE BENEFIT OF EVERYONE ELSE let’s talk about early modern foodways.

To be honest, in a lot of respects, if you were to somehow end up in the early 18th century, you’d probably actually recognize a good bit of what people were actually eating, especially among the English. For instance, this recipe for “maccarony cheese” comes from some time between 1765 and 1830, but judging by the actual handwriting I’d put closer to 1765. And if it’s written down at that point, people were more than likely cooking it well before. So you need your blue box fix? The 18th century’s got you, fam.

You like cookies? What about snickerdoodles? Yeah, the 18th century had those, too.

(This blog is a great resource for early modern recipes and there are a few others, too. I’ll throw up some links when I’m done.)

Things you’d see on an 18th century table might include fried chicken. Mashed potatoes - a bit different than the way we make them today but the same concept. Apple fritters would be especially easy to come by, if you found yourself in a place where apples weren’t ungodly expensive. Pancakes - in the Caribbean probably with a side of some kind of citrus fruit, or sprinkled with baker’s sugar (confectioner’s sugar or powdered sugar, as we call it today). Peaches are available in the southern parts of North America and Caribbean - they were brought to Georgia by the Spanish in 1565. If you’ve ever had / know what Brunswick Stew is, yeah, it’s totally available in Georgia during the time. People like me who live on coffee and spite would find plenty of both, because the British would have started growing coffee in Central and South America. Apple pie, corn cakes, baked potatoes, hot chocolate (much different than today’s variety - chocolate was unsweetened and usually drank sprinkled with some spice like chili pepper or paprikia), sausage…The 18th century shore diet depended on location (obviously) but it was varied in the New World with the all the additions made by native plants like potatoes from Peru and corn (everyone called in mais or maize) from Central and North America, along with things like pumpkins, turkey, and so on. Food was expensive, and people typically did then what people do now: Make in bulk as much as they could because it tended to be cheaper to do so, so leftovers for several nights straight would absolutely be a thing. Also you’d see less meat and more fruits and vegetables in a shore diet.

Pirates, on the other hand, were a little different in this respect. There were various types of goods ships would be provisioned with, and that goes for any kind of ship. Dried meat was a thing that would be super common, and sometimes could be so tough that sailors would literally carve buttons out of it, to replace ones they’d lost. The joke goes that the cook would soak it in the sea to get some of the salt out. Hardtack was stored but typically only brought out when shit was starting to look grim and supplies were starting to run low. Mostly because the way it was made, being twice and thrice baked, allowed it to keep for super long periods of time as long as it stayed dry. You wouldn’t see a lot of water kept on ships, but what was typically was mixed with rum. This is because the rum kept the water from going stagnant in the barrels it was kept with, and also kept the barrels from going slimy.

Things you’d typically find on a ship? Bacon. Grits. Oatmeal. Eggs (because ships would most certainly at least keep chickens - the guy who looked after the birds on the ship would be called a duck fucker - no I’m not kidding). Beans. Rice. Various grains. Fresh fruit and vegetables - these would be eaten first so they wouldn’t spoil. Food preservation methods weren’t the greatest - there were no canned goods at this point - but pickled and dried vegetables and meats would be a thing. When things really started to look like they were getting low, pirates would fish! And anything they caught was typically kept in the bilge or lower decks if it wasn’t going to be nommed on right away, like sea turtles (aye, sea turtles). Trading with local settlements and local tribes was definitely a thing in the Caribbean for them, and their diet would include a lot of the local fruits, vegetables, and game. They’d eat whale, shark, manatee, pretty much anything that was edible, when it came down to it. Cooks had to be creative when things started to look a little rough, and you’d have things like a mixed vegetable and meat salad called salmagundi. If that was getting made, nobody was feeling too particularly great, no matter how good of a cook the ship had, because it’ meant shit was starting to look lean.

An important thing to know about pirates and food: With pirates, everything was an equal share. Foodwise, everyone got the same allotment, no matter who they were, from the captain down to the cabin boy, if there was one. It was a touchy subject for a lot of sailors that turned pirate, because many had been horribly mistreated on various merchant and navy ships. You were given a full share of rations and rum (or booze in general) as a pirate, and it was yours. No one could take that from you, the way they could on a merchant or navy ship, as punishment. And you pretty much had access to it whenever you wanted it. No one was going to tell you no, because it was yours. When things started getting really lean, there was usually a re-divvying up things.

Pirate diets were also full of dense foods and high calorie. This is because sailing is incredibly demanding physically, and your average pirate (or sailor) would eat between 6 and 8 thousand calories a day. And despite that, because it all was so physically demanding, sailors in general were easy to spot due to their body types, which were - as many records indicate - almost universally lean, hard-bodied, and compactly muscled.

Pirates typically ate better than other crews of the period, because pirate crews were typically smaller, and the best bits of provisions they took from ships would be kept for their own uses. Cooks knew to take things there wasn’t much of (different types of alcohol, for example, pilfered from a taken ship’s cabin) and make things like stews and punches, to ensure every man aboard got his fair share.

So now that I’ve got on forever about this, here are some links to check out about 18th Century food.Cooking In The Archives - Early Modern recipes rewritten for today.Townsends - This guy is hero and does all kinds of fun 18th Century things. He also has a Youtube Channel which is full of really neat videos about mostly food, but also other 18th Century trivia. And he’s forever in period clothing. His shop is neat to check out, too, if you’re wanting to actually get into the SCA crowd.The Cookbook of Unknown Ladies - It’s over and no longer being updated because they made their way through the whole thing, but this also includes some recipes for home remedies and cosmetics from the period.

#roipirate #; { but all the wealth in the world will be mine : answered #; { in hell i'll be in good company : ooc asks #; { with vigilance and vim : history

4 notes · View notes

montmartre-parapluie · 7 years ago

Text

The Huge Anna Strong Costume Appreciation Post:

Yes, Anna - you!

As the @turnnetwork has started an excellent meme on showing your appreciation for the show - well, costumes was on the list... *shifty smile.* Costumes are MY wheelhouse.

Costume does a lot of the heavy lifting with characters in tv and film, before they even open their mouths onscreen. How someone looks, what they wear - it’s a big piece of how they’re presented, in addition to the actor’s performance and with period pieces it can help influence a character’s performance. A lot of actors often bring their own ideas of the character to the costume designer, and they work together to bring the character to life.

I’d normally refer to the excellent Frock Flicks blog for this sort of commentary , but they were kinda underwhelmed by the costumes:

http://www.frockflicks.com/turn-washingtons-spies-2014/

So, its a daft fluffy British nerd to the rescue! A long post on the lovely Anna Strong, and her costumes through the show.

All credit for these amazing pieces goes to costume designers Donna Zakowska (seasons1-2) and Lahly Poore (seasons 3-4)

Post 1: Anna’s Finer Gowns!

A)The Blue Dress:

I love this gown. It’s the first thing we see Anna in coming down the stairs at the tavern - she’s a speck of blue in a tavern full of aggressive redcoats, and we can immediately tell - this is someone different. Someone worth keeping an eye on. (I could also get into the simple onscreen logic of Rev War identifiers: Good Guys wear blue, Bad Guys wear red) Anna wears blue, and is a patriot and a “Good Guy”. We as an audience can trust her.

(credit for this lovely hd screencap goes to @rapid-apathy)

And, what’s even nicer to see, she re-wears it in Season 3, during the proposal scene! She’s taken her apron off now, and the white sleeve cuffs are a trifle longer. I like to think we’re seeing Anna through the camera lens as Hewlett sees her - an elegant, intelligent and attractive woman, hence the little touches that turn this from ‘merchants wife about her duties’ to ‘lady of leisure’. It’s also a great touch showing how you can restyle and wear things in the 18th century.

How Historic Is It?

10/10! Absolutely spot-on for the period. One of the things I love about the show is how much inspiration they take from actual extant gowns. It’s great, shiows they’ve really done their homework.

B) The Red Dress:

We only see this bright red gown in Season 1, and then it vanishes offscreen, . Which is a shame, as Heather Lind looks stunning in bright colours. I think perhaps they felt the red was too smiliar to the other people in red marching across the screen...

But, all that changes with Season 3! We get another, telling little glimpse of it in one of the heartbreakingly tender moments between Anna and Hewlett, right before everything goes south:

How Historic is it?

I couldn’t find anything that looked like a direct copy of this one - mustly because your average plainer styles don’t tend to be the ones that survive in museums. But I found some fancier versions in red silk damask that look like a more ‘runway’ look for 1776. Anna probably made up something that was a nod to the fashion of the time from a lady’s magazine, adapting the extreme fashion to suit her own taste and budget. Much like high street style copying and adapting things from Paris and Milan today.

C)AKA My Favourite: The Striped Black Jacket Ensemble

This is unashamedly my favourite costume she wears in the series. This is Anna down to a tee - deadly serious about the dangerous business she’s engaged in. And nothing says businesswear quite like stripes, 1770s style! There’s still a nod to fashion conventions with that beautiful pleated and pinked trim around the bodice opening - but only a nod.

(And while we’re here, about a little fashion comparison with Mary? Ask someone with no idea about the show which woman in this picture is the wife of a Congressman and which one is married to a poor cabbage farmer.)

Mary wants the middle-class lifestyle Anna has, with her aspirations towards living in Whitehall. Anna feels trapped by her position and the ostentation expected from her, and dresses more simply in a kind of style “rebellion”. Which is awesome.

Anna also dresses this jacket up and down throughout the series - whether its with black silk whilst she’s staying at Whitehall, or a simpler black linen petticoat when she’s working the sutler cart in Washington’s camp in Season 4.

How Historic is it?

One of the things I love about this is that this is a DIRECT copy of a wonderful cotton print half-mourning gown in the Swiss National Museum. Check out that pleated trim layout! EXACTLY THE SAME. Long sleeves? SAME. That wonderful little peplum back? SAME. Stripes? SAME. The print isn’t exactly the same, but it’s so clearly a reference point that it gave me a little SQUEE of delight when i noticed how similar they were!

D) The Pastel Pink Gown

Probably my least favourite of Anna’s wardrobe. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely, frothy, beautiful gown in beautiful fabrics, and I love the cut and the trim. But it feels... wrong, for Anna. Anna is queen of bright, dark simplicity. This would look cute on Mary, or even Peggy - but for Anna? No. This froofy ‘Colonial Barbie’ she puts on to please Selah on his release from prison is just so uncharacteristic of everything we’ve seen her in before, it’s almost jarring.

This is an excellent example of costume doing some of the backstory for us - the only time we ever see Anna in this sort of affected 18th century fashion is when she’s going to meet Selah. She puts this on for him, as something he’d want, or expect. There’s nothing of the real Anna here - just a false front. And that, visually, tells you everything about their marriage up to this point. Brilliant, and on-point .

How Historic is it?

Another nearly spot on recreation! This gown is from Colonial Williamsburg’s historic collection. They’ve altered a few things on this one - Anna’s has more trimming as well as buttons up the front. But the colours in the flowered petticoat? Definitely very close to this original quilted petticoat. Brilliant.

E) Anna’s Wedding Gown

Oh man, don’t even get me started on this one. SUCH a contrast to the pink fluff up above. Anna’s wearing a gorgeous teal and gold brocade gown. The fabric and lace are rich, but the trimmings are simple, and very Anna - a sunday best version of her everyday style. This is something she had choice in - and it shows, I think, how well suited Anna and Hewlett were for each other. This was her getting to be her better self, at least for a while (THANKS a bunch, WOODHULLS)

How Historical is it?

I couldn’t find anything that was an exactly match - but the trim, overall colour scheme and buttons on this gave me a definite ‘feel’ for Anna’s dress.

F) Anna’s “Return to Setauket” Gown

I think actually this, if nothing else, redeemed me to an Anna/Selah reunion at the end of Season 4 - because once again, the costumes are doing half the talking about how their relationship works. It’s nice to see Anna dressed up again after her ‘camp follower grunge’ throughout Season 4 - but, more importantly, this style, again, is something she had a choice in. Stripes are very much Anna’s signature style throughout the show. The deep brown colouring looks lovely, and that striking combination - strong colour, stripes, simple, not overstated, shows us Anna has really come into her own - and Selah respects and admires that now. And Anna is SUPER fashionable in her zone front! That is cutting edge 1780s fashion.

How Historic is it?

I’m pretty sure the designers may have got the stripe idea from this lovely striped jacket in the Kyoto Copstume Institute Collection, combined with another of their dresses. Take away the buttons and trim, and that overlapping front is super similar to Anna’s look:

And, there you have it. A super long rambling post on costume, character arc and historic inspiration. I hope you enjoyed!

#18th century fashion #fashion queen #more about costume stuff than you ever needed to know #love Anna Strong's style #anna strong #amc turn #amazing costume design #donna zakowska #lahly poore #turn meme #costume appreciation post #1770-80s fashion #turnedit #turnnetwork #costumes #long post

142 notes · View notes