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thinkrp · 8 months ago

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today's preview is a more introspective look at the larger of our two locations - remington, georgia. while it has the glitz and glamour that sable grove could never aspire to, there are some who can't stand the hustle and bustle of someplace that always seems to be in motion. take a peek under the cut for it's full history alongside the six neighborhoods waiting within. if you have any questions, you know where to find us!

✨ explore remington, ga ✨

the city of remington was founded in late 1829 during the georgia gold rush. it was a larger settlement for the prospectors that used to travel to sable grove to strike it rich. today, it is a thriving metropolis home to such prominent tourist attractions such as the great rapids amusement park, the barlowe botanical gardens, and distillery drive. it is also home to remington university and the official home of nfl team the remington prospectors, nhl team the remington gold hawks, and the mlb team the remington 29ers. remington is also known to be a festival city during the summers, hosting events such as the taste of remington and the street buskers festival. to the world, remington seems like a city of promise, however, if you look a little closer you’ll see dilapidated buildings with graffiti protesting the oppressive hold of corporations, you’ll see broken swing sets in seedy neighborhoods, and you might just be able to see deals being made on street corners. remington proves that even the shiniest of exteriors can have the grimiest of secrets lurking within.

barlowe reef

population - 20660 | price point - $$$ to $$$$

home to the barlowe botanical gardens and the great rapids amusement park, the neighborhood of barlowe is known as a tourist haven. the northernmost peak of remington, you’ll also have access to the barlowe bridge which connects remington and sable grove across bennington bay. it also houses the shorefront which showcases the pier and harbor. housing in the area is middle tier and largely populated with airbnbs and hotels.

camden

population - 17486 | price point - $$$ to $$$$$

camden is a historic part of remington that was once lined with bootleggers and secret speakeasies between the 1920s to the 1930s. now, it is widely known as the fine arts and cultural district. it is home to the remington art gallery and theatre alley which is home to the remington ballet company, the remington philharmonic, and the remington players. it is also home to jazz clubs, piano bars, and of course your good ol’ country music bars. some casting agencies, modeling agencies, and production companies also call camden home. the neighborhood also has a series of small man-made parks and trails that are a runner’s paradise. this area houses a lot of trendy apartment buildings, brownstones, and houses with old world charm that tend to be perfect for those in the middle-income or higher income brackets.

crestmont

population - 10576 | price point - $$$$ to $$$$$

crestmont is remington’s financial and governmental neighborhood. you’ll find city hall which houses city council offices, the mayor’s office, and all the major courthouses. it is also home to the remington police department and the sheriff's station. crestmont also has easy access to remington memorial hospital and the remington firehouse. around the corner from city hall is market street which is home to well known financial institutions, major real estate developers, and also larger tech and entertainment-focused companies. homes in this area are relatively pretty expensive and swanky and feature penthouses, brownstones, and luxury apartments.

cromwell

population - 14177 | price point - $$$ to $$$$$

cromwell is perhaps one of the busiest neighborhoods in remington featuring all the major sports arenas and stadiums as well as the larger concert venues. it is home to palladium square which is full to the brim with street performers and buskers. during the weekends, there is a large farmer’s market and craft and book fairs. it is also a hop skip and jump from remington public library and cromwell park. due to its resemblance to many popular cities, cromwell is a popular filming location. you’ll find mid-tier to high-tier housing in the area, and it is home to many families with young children.

snakeleaf

population - 20101 | price point - $ to $$$

back in the 1800s, the snakeleaf area used to be swampy marshy lands where only the underlings of the city used to congregate. it still maintains its “seedy” reputation with its collection of motels and other shady businesses. unlike the rest of the city, the snakeleaf area is not prim and pristine. however, some would argue that this is where the real deals in the city happen and not in crestmont or cromwell. the main highlight of this area is the abandoned shoe factory which is a popular venue for raves, outlandish parties, and general debauchery that is rented by more elite hands than you would think to imagine. housing is cheap here, but it comes at the cost of your safety and sanity, quite frankly.

yearwood

population - 30000 | price point - $ to $$$

yearwood widely known as the education district, yearwood is home to remington university spanning ten whole city blocks. around the corner from remington university, you’ll also find the yearwood mall and tucked in a corner is distillery drive which features bars, clubs, taverns, cafes, and restaurants that are popular with students, remington residents, and tourists alike. at the end of distillery drive, you’ll find the wall, a skate park with a massive brick wall that is frequently tagged with graffiti, murals, and messages. housing in this area is relatively cheap and largely occupied by students or early career professionals.

#thinkrp #preview #remington #setting

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krispyweiss · 3 months ago

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Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Day Three, Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, Calif., Oct. 6, 2024

The good folks who put on Hardly Strictly Bluegrass created an epic conundrum of good musical fortune by booking the Wood Brothers, the Infamous Stringdusters and Emmylou Harris in simultaneous, festival-closing slots. This, of course, created high anxiety as all three acts are high on any music lover’s gotta-hear list.

But more on that later. Because first, Miko Marks began the day at the Rooster stage with some Sunday soul music before 93-year-old Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, accompanied by mandolin and bass, came out yodeling on Jimmie Rodgers’ “Waiting for a Rain.” He then dug into Woody Guthrie’s “The 1913 Massacre,” got a bit uptempo on “The Cuckoo” and nodded to the Hardly Strictly atmosphere of a super-heated Golden Gate Park (on Oct. 6!) with Jesse Fuller’s “San Francisco Bay Blues.” Between numbers, Elliott regaled the squeezed-into-shady-areas fans with tales from 70 years of music making. Steve Earle then emerged to tell an overly long story over soft picking leaving Elliott to try, unsuccessfully, to get a word in as time ran down on his 40-minute allotment.

So … off to the Banjo stage where Tony Trischka’s Earl Jam was finishing “Brown’s Ferry Blues” and launching into “Lady Madonna” - strictly bluegrass style. Brittany Haas, who would appear later with Aoife O’Donovan and Hawktail, then entered the fray for double fiddling with Shad Cobb on “You Got to Die,” and putting the blues in the grass.

Peter Case, Teddy Thompson, Melissa Carper and Carsie Blanton hit the Rooster next for a Songwriter’s Circle/guitar pull with truth as the refreshing theme. A delightful exercise in the power of folk music.

But there was also blues at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass because: “If you don’t like the blues, you probably don’t like your mama.”

So said Bobby Rush on the Banjo, where the 91-year-old - “If I’m not the oldest, I’m the ugliest,” he cracked - and his big band got down and dirty in flashy sequins as they spanned 70 years of Rush originals and covers like “Hoochie Coochie Man.” Rush blew harp with the lungs of a young man, danced around the stage with the body of a young man and rapped like the OG he is, proving yet again the magic of music - even when you’re singing of your woman leaving you “for the damn garbage man.”

After a public soundcheck that signaled sublimity to come, O’Donovan, Hawktail and the San Francisco Girls Chorus - who joined one-third of the way through the 60-minute set - spanned O’Donovan’s solo discography rearranged to fit Hawktail’s musical tapestry woven of classical, jazz and bluegrass. The Chorus voices soared across Golden Gate as O’Donovan led them through songs about the battle to pass the 19th Amendment from All My Friends.

It was a stirring performance that provided some hope in an era that sometimes feels hopeless and earned a standing ovation from the Banjo stage listeners.

Down the road at Towers of Gold, Patti Smith played to a crowd so humongous people were turned away to listen to her cover Bob Dylan’s “Man in the Long Black Coat” and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” read poetry and and play such songs as “Cash” and “People Have the Power” at the adjacent Swan stage, which was also rammed with festivalgoers, where the Wood Brothers were to play next and Smith’s set benefitted from stellar sound piped in from next door.

Even from behind the Towers, Smith’s performance was deeply affecting - a penetrating mix of soft-edged emotion and hard-edged aggression.

“Use your voice,” she said after using hers for 65 minutes and fans on both sides of the stage exploded in applause when she finished her gig.

Now to address the daylong conundrum, splitting up three must-see acts.

And so it transpired that Mr. and Mrs. Sound Bites caught the Woods (Hardly) playing “Little Bit Broken,” “Tried and Tempted,” “Pilgram” and “A Little Bit Sweet;” the ’Dusters (Strictly) on “Gravity” and “Rise Sun” at the Rooster; and Harris’ (country, not Bluegrass) homestretch at the Banjo, which included a rambunctious “Luxury Liner” and a mournful “Together Again.”

And then it was over …

Read Sound Bites’ coverage of Day One and Day Two at the hyperlinks.

10/7/24

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world-cinema-research · 7 months ago

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Week 7 Short Essay Part 1 – Sex, Lies and Videotape comparison to Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai

By Christian Lavarello

The films, Sex, Lies and Videotape by Director Steven Soderbergh and Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai by director Jim Jarmusch are vastly different from one another. Sex, Lies and Videotape follows the intertwined lives of four individuals living in Baton Rouge, Louisiana: John Mulaney (Peter Gallagher), Ann Bishop Mulaney (Andie MacDowell), Cynthia Bishop, and Graham Dalton. John is an attorney who is having an affair with his wife Ann’s sister. Ann claims to not want sex anymore, being excessively concerned about world issues until John’s old college friend, Graham (James Spader) visits them. Graham is ‘brutally honesty,’ especially about the fact that he is impotent and the only way he can have some physical satisfaction is by videotaping women talking about sex and their sexual encounters. With his arrival, everyone’s deceptions and hypocrisies come to the surface and so does Ann’s desire to have to sex again. Director Steven Soderbergh’s groundbreaking debut shook the Indie Filmmaking scene awarding him the Palme d'Or at the 1989 Cannes Film Festival, making Soderbergh the youngest solo director to win the award.

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Almost ten years later, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai was released by director Jim Jarmusch which tells the story of an urban samurai (Forest Whitaker), a man who was saved when he was younger by Louie (John Tormey), a mafioso. Sometime later, Ghost Dog reappears before the mafioso and, in accordance with his samurai ethical code, admits he is in debt with Louie. Louie turns Ghost Dog into his own efficient, uncatchable hitman and nobody knows his "real" name and they communicate via carrier pigeon-delivered messages. Ghost Dog’s only "outside" conversations are with the French-speaking Haitian ice-cream vendor Raymond (Isaach De Baukole) and a precocious girl, Pearline (Camille Winbush), whom he meets in the park, and they share books.

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One the most prominent differences between both films is that Sex, Lies and Videotape is more of an unconventional film, whereas Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai is conventional. Alisa Perren wrote a scholarly review on Sex, Lies and Videotape and its’ impact on filmmaking and marketing of the 80s and early 90s, where she states, “On a cost-to-earnings ratio, Steven Soderbergh’s creation —with its $1.1 million dollar budget and $24 million plus in North American box office—was a better investment than Batman, which—at an investment of $50 million—returned $250 million in domestic box office”.

Chuck Stephens wrote a scholarly article on Jim Jarmusch's way of telling the Ghost Dog’s story where he states, “There are many stories within Ghost Dog, and Jarmusch rashomon-ically wants to tell - or retell - them all. The simplest of them is this: Ghost Dog lives alone in a rooftop aerie, kept company by a covey of carrier pigeons as he studies the nihilist koans of the Hagakure. Around him, the wind whistles with hiphop hybridity ("black Mafia mind De Niro") and moans with the "everything's changing," time-to- die fatalism of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, another film in which out-moded men are picked off like chickens buried to their necks in sand”. Both films are reviewed critically from very different aspects and the reviewer sees they excel and radiate different qualities that contributed to films of the 80s and 90s.

During the time of the film Sex, Lies and Videotape in 1989, the Loma Prieta earthquake hit the San Francisco Bay Area with a 6.9 magnitude, leaving behind a trail of destruction, while in 1999 during the time of the film, Ghost Dog: The way of the Samurai John F. Kennedy Jr., wife Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, and her sister Lauren G. Bessette are lost at sea when a plane he was piloting disappears near Martha's Vineyard, off Mass. coast on July 16, 1999. Two different tragic events occur during the time of both films which affected many individuals.

Both films had great success in their own ways with Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai touching on the history of the warriors of Japan with a gangster American twist where the characters are understood and the story comes together at the end, whereas Sex, Lies and Videotape touched on more socially unacceptable topics of its’ time and sexual conversations making the audience work to resolve issues brought up in the movie. Their differences make these films unique and do cater to very different audiences, but both are great films to watch.

#Youtube

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itsthebethblogever · 7 months ago

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Cute Abandoned Puppy

April 1, 2024

I want love but I feel unworthy.

I wanna wash away my mistakes but my hands feel dirty.

I wanna be patient but I’m already thirty.

I wanna tell my family but I don’t want them to worry.

I wanna get to the destination, fuck this uphill journey.

I wanna feel confident but my insides feel murky.

I come from a family that doesn’t express dark emotions.

And I’m repeating the pattern by escaping across oceans.

California’s too capitalist - maybe - just maybe! - if it wasn’t for the prices,

I would have stayed in the Bay Area and done hella tight shit.

Despite my roaming, I really do love my home.

Every time I return I’m reminded just how much I’ve grown.

Is this shit that I’m living all to make me realize

That Ventura’s got potential and I’ll help make it rise?

So that’s what I’ll do? After Australia, go back?

By then, maybe my brain will stop feeling so whack.

In future hindsight, when friends inquire, oh what will I tell them?

“How were your travels? The festivals?” Ah, the hell w/em.

The truth is my lack of flow has been a constant obsession.

It feels like my personality has gone through a regression.

What’s easiest is to hide my turbulent emotions with a smile.

Inside, the search for meaning perseveres, feeling longer than the Nile.

Always changing directions has me feeling like shit.

I must find my focus, the discipline to commit.

What do I want? A family. Security. Joy. Laughter.

Consistent community. A good job that matters.

A nook to read books full of cozy blankets and candles.

Card games, a shoe rack, someone to caress my love handles.

I ought to stop lying when people ask how I am.

I’m sad and I’m lost and I feel like a sham.

Constant worries about money torment my head.

It takes me an hour to get out of bed.

A laughter yoga workshop makes me wanna cry.

Even weed’s stopped helping - I’m low when I’m high.

So what is it? This funk, this era, this time?

To force me back to writing, remember to rhyme?

If so - then LOOK. I’m DOING it, OK?

Will sharing my feelings make the problem go away?

I’ve been banged on my head again and again.

If I was a bear, I’d crawl straight to my den.

There, nobody’d bother me and I’d have a look

Deep inside myself, meditate, and probably write a book.

About a woman who presented so happy go lucky

And underneath hid fear, like a cute abandoned puppy.

Afterword:

During the year I lived in Melbourne, I struggled to find a job that could support myself and the year long program I committed to. This and the dreadful weather lead to me spending much of my time at home, avoiding spending and the cold. Now that I’m traveling I’m feeling much better, yet, I find it hard to carry a conversation and banter with those around me. There is something in me that’s blocked or needs processing or something, which is the confusion I speak about. On May 27th I’ll attend a 10 day Vipassana silent meditation retreat, which I’m hoping will help. Let’s see how I go. Thanks for reading y’all, love to you <3

#poetry #writing #thirty #travel life #mental health

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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The Red Team Blues tour

In just a few days, my next novel, Red Team Blues, will be released in all English territories. It’s an “anti-finance finance thriller” — my most commercial novel to date, about a 67-year-old high-tech forensic accountant fighting for his life as he unwinds a cryptocurrency heist:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/redteamblues

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/19/whats-wrong-with-iowa/#red-team-blues-tour

My publishers are sending me around the world on a tour of the US, Canada, and the UK, with a bonus stop in Berlin! When I do book tours, each stop is a mix of a reading, a little background talk about the book, and then a kind of AMA with the audience. They’re incredibly fun and rewarding, and over the decades I’ve been doing them, I’ve had some of the most memorable and important interactions of my life. What’s more, these tours are a great way to support indie booksellers and get my readers acquainted with the stores who really support my work, creating lifelong relationships between bookstores and the communities they serve.

I hope you’ll come out to see me on this trip! What’s more: if you don’t see your city on the list below, don’t despair: I’ve got three more books coming out in the next 12 months and I’m going on the road with all of them, so there’s a good chance I’ll see you in the future even if I miss you this time around.

Here’s where you can catch me:

Los Angeles:

I’m speaking at the LA Times Festival of Books this weekend (4/22–23).

https://events.latimes.com/festivalofbooks/schedule/

Sat at 12, I’m doing a panel called “Covering Silicon Valley” with Douglas Rushkoff, Winddance Twine, moderated by Wendy Lee from the LA Times.

Sun at 11, I’m signing for California Book Club at booth 111.

Sun at 12:30, I’m doing a panel called “The Accidental Detective” with Alex Segura, Margot Douaihy and SJ Rozan.

San Diego:

I’ll be at Myseterious Galaxy with Sarah Gailey on 4/25:

https://www.mystgalaxy.com/event/42523Doctorow

Burbank:

I’ll be at Dark Delicacies on 4/26:

https://www.darkdel.com/store/p2873/Wed%2C_Apr_26th_6pm%3A_Red_Team_Blues%3A_A_Martin_Hench_Novel_HB.html#

San Francisco:

I’ll be at the San Francisco Public Library with Annalee Newitz on 4/30:

https://sfpl.org/events/2023/04/30/author-cory-doctorow-red-team-blues

PDX:

I’ll be at the Powell’s in Cedar Hills with Andy Baio on 5/2:

https://www.powells.com/book/red-team-blues-martin-hench-1-9781250865847/2-1

Mountain View:

I’ll be at the Books, Inc with Mitch Kapor on 5/5:

https://www.booksinc.net/event/cory-doctorow-books-inc-mountain-view

Berkeley:

I’ll be at the Bay Area Bookfest with Glynn Washington on 5/6:

https://www.baybookfest.org/session/cory-doctorow/

Vancouver:

On 5/10 I’m doing an afternoon keynote for Open Source Summit:

https://events.linuxfoundation.org/open-source-summit-north-america/

And that evening I’ll be at Massy Arts with Sean Cranbury:

https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/red-team-blues-cory-doctorow-in-conversation-with-sean-cranbury-tickets-608877016547

Calgary:

I’ll be at Wordfest with Peter Hemminger on 5/11:

https://wordfest.com/2023/event/wordfest-presents-cory-doctorow/

Gaithersburg:

I’ll be at the Gaithersburg Book Festival on 5/20:

https://www.gaithersburgbookfestival.org/featured_author/cory-doctorow/

DC:

I’m keynoting Public Knowledge’s Emerging Tech conference on 5/22:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/emerging-tech-tickets-600582126307

Toronto:

I’ll be on stage with Ron Deibert, Dave Bidini and Nancy Olivieri for WEPFest on 5/23:

https://www.westendphoenix.com/shop/wepfest-spring-fundraiser

Hay:

I’m speaking at the HowTheLightGetsIn festival on 28–29/5:

On May 28, I’m on a panel called “The AI Enigma” with Joshua Bach and Mazviita Chirimuuta:

https://howthelightgetsin.org/events/the-ai-enigma-12147

On May 29, I’m on a panel called “The Danger and Desire of the Frontier” with Nolen Gertz and Esther Dyson:

https://howthelightgetsin.org/events/the-danger-and-desire-of-the-frontier-12246

Oxford:

I’ll be at Blackwell with Tim Harford on 29/5:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/cory-doctorow-red-team-blues-with-tim-harford-tickets-574673793787

Nottingham:

I’ll be at Waterstones with Christian Reilly on 30/5:

https://www.waterstones.com/events/an-evening-with-cory-doctorow/nottingham

Manchester:

I’ll be at Waterstones with Ian Forrester on 31/5:

https://www.waterstones.com/events/in-conversation-with-cory-doctorow/manchester-deansgate

London:

I’m delivering the Peter Kirstein Lecture for UCL on 1/6:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/peter-kirstein-lecture-2023-featuring-cory-doctorow-registration-539205788027

Edinburgh:

I’m speaking at Cymera with Ian McDonald and Nina Allan on 3/6:

https://www.cymerafestival.co.uk/cymera23-events/2023/4/4/connection-interrupted-with-nina-allan-cory-doctorow-and-ian-mcdonald

London:

I’m speaking at the British Library with Baroness Martha Lane Fox on 5/6:

https://www.bl.uk/events/an-evening-with-cory-doctorow-techno-thriller

Berlin:

I’m keynoting Re:publica on 7/6:

https://re-publica.com/de/news/rp23-keynote-von-cory-doctorow-rebecca-giblin-kreative-arbeitsmaerkte-und-monopole

[Image ID: The Red Team Blues tour schedule.]

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tomboy014 · 2 years ago

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TruthShriekers AU, the Setup

Weeks turn into months, and after two years, April, Wes, Dib and Dipper are close friends. Forum posting has turned into DMs, private group chats, emails, texts and finally video calls. At this point, the only thing left to do is meet.

A little difficult when you live all over the country.

So come summer, the gang is going to go on a cross country trip to meet each other and hunt the paranormal! There are some concerns, and not everyone is super mobile, but they’ve got a plan.

Wes lives in prime ghost-hunting territory and is the least mobile. He’s just gotten his license, but doesn’t have a car, so the gang will start their adventures in Amity Park, Michigan.

Dipper is going to catch a flight and April will pick him up from the airport when she drives over from New York. She’s borrowing a neighbor’s car, an old junker they were ready to scrap anyways. They’ll use it to carpool, with April and Wes driving.

Dib is concerningly mobile for a twelve-year-old, but he guarantees he can make it on his own to Amity Park. It’s the shortest trip, only a few hours drive by car since he lives in the next state over, so they’re worried, but willing to trust him. For now.

After some ghost hunting, they’ll swing down to Dib’s hometown to get a tour of Membrane Labs and check out his “alien” classmate.

Then, a weekend in Point Pleasant, West Virginia for the Mothman festival and a little bug-hunting of their own.

Then they’ll swing up to Chicago to check out the (second) most haunted city in America! From there, it’s a long drive across country before they hit California, so they figured they’d save some money by camping along the way instead of staying in hotels.

But then they get to check out San Francisco! After that, one more very long ride to New York City so April can show them around the Big Apple before they all part ways.

It’s… a lot, and it’s not exactly easy on anyone’s budget, but everyone’s been saving money from allowances, part-time jobs, birthdays and anything else they can, so it’s just barely doable, but it’s tight. The campgrounds will have to be cheap, they need to couch surf as much as possible in the different cities, and there’s not really any money left for anything else, so it’s going to be a lot of bologna sandwiches and ramen, but everyone’s looking forward to it.

Except this plan almost immediately starts falling apart. For one, Dipper never actually got his parents approval to fly across country by himself. In fact, they’d already planned for him and his sister to spend the summer with their great uncle in Oregon.

It’s okay. Instead of checking out the Bay area, there’s bound to be something in Oregon… right?

But this also means that he won’t be able to join them for most of the trip, and he might not be able to go to New York at all. Still, the important part is that they’re going to finally meet. They’ll make it work and meet him there.

And of course, Mikey found out about April’s plans and told Leo, who told Raph, who told Donnie who will absolutely not be left out of a chance to tour the Membrane Labs. Mikey’s not about to be left behind on a ghost hunting summer, and if they’re going, the rest of the boys are going, too.

Downside, there’s now four more people and April needs to prep her friends because her “brothers” look a little… different from other people. Upside, there’s now four more people contributing to the budget AND they can take the Turtle Tank. That’ll give them all a lot more room, even with the group doubling, AND they have room to pack April’s kayak. If they’re going to go camping across country and hit up two cities on Lake Michigan, she’s bringing it.

Plus, the Turtle Tank doesn’t run on gas. She doesn’t know what it runs on, but it means they don’t need money for gas anymore or to stop to refuel, and that’s a win in her book.

See? The plan is still salvageable. Now, they all just need to hit the road.

After all, what else can go wrong?

<<Prev Next>>

Ages in this AU: April, Jazz: 18 Raph: 17 Leo, Donnie, Danny, Sam, Tucker, Wes: 16 Mikey: 15 Dib, Dipper, Mabel: 12 Zim: ?

#truthshriekers au #the road trip #danny phantom #invader zim #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #gravity falls #i figured most of the group met around the start of their respective series #and i always headcanoned dib/gaz as 10/9 in the show #a couple years passing between the show and ETF always made sense to me since enough time had to pass for the game slave 4 to come out #takes place post enter the florpus #and after the rottmnt movie #dipper is the only outlier #he joined the group when he was 10 #so he'd be 12 when this started

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darkspine10 · 1 year ago

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GF Fanfic - King of the Tulpas

Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Past (28,842 words) by darkspine10

Chapters: 6/9

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: Teen and Up

Dipper stared out across Piedmont and over to the Golden Gate. Beyond, the ocean, stretching out until it was lost in a mire of fog. Their position on the hill commanded an impressive view of the urban sprawl. He felt a chill run up his arms. The creature, Errata, was probably looking at the city from on high in much the same way, delighting in how best to sow chaos. Anywhere his gaze lingered could be a possible target.

His daughter was down there, right now. Getting a babysitter had been hard at such short notice in the festive period, but the Pines had a friendly neighbour who’d pitched in. Now Wendy was alone at home, while her family kept the city safe.

First they had to deal with the immediate threat. He turned his attention to the oddly geometric concrete building, and the rest of his party standing in front of it. Pacifica had parked the Mini beside the Sunstones, a tetrahedral sculpture designed to line up perfectly with various solstice lines and astronomical events. Merrise was hopping on one leg, trying to relieve the tension before they went inside. His mother’s expression didn’t seem to approve of anything.

On a normal day, a trip to the Lawrence Hall of Science would be a perfect day out with his family. A museum with a strong focus on interactivity and delivering scientific topics to the masses, it was Dipper’s idea of a great time. Though Pacifica might disagree, patience while browsing museums not being one of her strong suits. He and Mabel had spent countless long afternoons wandering around inside, killing time and messing around with the exhibits.

“Are we going inside now?” Merrise asked impatiently. “The news said this was one of the places.”

“Why here?” Pacifica asked. She was eyeing up the museum from a distance, staying on edge. The place was empty of people, who’d all fled once the creature reports started and panic spread like wildfire. The police were still in the midst of establishing a cordon, allowing the Pines to slip in unnoticed. “Of all the places in the Bay Area, one of those journal spirits chooses this museum?

“Maybe some kind of sympathetic resonance?” Dipper offered. “Mabel and I used to come here a lot as kids, perhaps the tulpas respond positively to those emotional traces.”

“I remember, I came here once with you guys. Let’s hope we don’t have to fight the Egyptian god of death this time.”

“The what?” Mrs Pines asked, her face pale.

“Woah, when did that happen?” Merrise asked. “I haven’t read about that one. Which journal is it in?”

“Later,” Dipper said. “We can air all the dirty laundry together as a family once the crisis is over.” He coughed into his fist and aimed his next words at Merrise. “Journal 4.” His daughter grinned and made a mental note to find and read about the incident at some point.

“And how exactly do you intend on stopping these monstrosities?” his mother asked, not unreasonably. “We can hardly ask them to kindly not touch any of the exhibits.”

Dipper smiled, his confidence returning. “That’s where my new plan comes into effect. Everyone got your journals?”

His mother sighed and showed him the red covered book with the golden hand and number 2. By coincidence, Merrise had Journal 4, with a pine tree cover, and Pacifica held up her Llama journal. He had his current Journal 9 of course, which gave them a decent breadth of knowledge. No matter what form the tulpa assumed, they would be able to counter it. Then they could enact the second part of Dipper’s plan.

As far as he could tell, from his observations downtown and scattered news reports, the recreations from the journals were one-to-one. Apart from a distinct gold or copper sheen, the tulpas accurately behaved like whatever they turned into. When they appeared like a Manotaur, they acted as such, full of rage and testosterone. This meant that if they got lucky and the random instabilities landed the tulpa in the form of a friendly or otherwise non-hostile entity, they would act accordingly and be pacified. Once in that state, Dipper planned to stabilise the tulpa, trapping it in that form permanently, until they could return the psychic detritus to Errata and hopefully end this madness.

He didn’t have many options for fixing the creatures and stopping them changing again. As they were in Piedmont he couldn’t rely on any artefacts or technological wonders to save the day. Back at the house before they’d split up he’d gone to his bedroom. In one of his drawers, beneath a hidden panel, was where he’d stashed anything he didn’t want his parents finding out about. There wasn’t much left beneath the false bottom. Dipper had taken most of his monster tracking equipment and collected relics with him when he’d moved out.

But he hadn’t taken everything. Coated in a layer of dust was a small metal box with antennae and a black screen. This was his prototype anomalous energy detector, a toy he’d cooked up with Grunkle Ford to allow him to find hotspots of unusual energy while he was away from the bigger pockets of weirdness in the Falls. Dipper plugged the device in the nearest socket and was delighted to see the screen light up with a simple map display. Nothing was registering at the moment - evidently the tulpas or Errata weren’t sending out the right type of energy waves - but it might be handy to narrow the search at close range. All they had to do now was find the tulpa, keep it contained until it switched, then lock it down as something that wasn’t liable to wreak any further havoc.

“Piece of cake,” Dipper said after explaining this to Pacifica, Merrise, and his mother. Their doubting faces didn’t fill him with enthusiasm. “Come on, Mabel’s already on her way to the other tulpa site. Do you really want to live with her gloating that she caught the first one before us?” His sense of cheer convinced Merrise and Pacifica at least, who headed into the museum.

Mrs Pines held Dipper’s shoulder before he followed them inside. “You’re really letting that girl rush into danger? For heaven’s sake, she’s 10 years old, Mason!”

“And I was 12.” He shrugged her off. “Merrise can take care of herself. I trust in her abilities. Although I know I never extended that trust to you or dad.” Sighing, he turned back to face his mother. “This is me making it up to you, if you think about it. Not the way I planned it, but it is what is, you know. Now, do you want to go catch a monster together, Mom?”

She didn’t quite smile, but relented and tapped him on the arm. “Only if you promise that Pacifica isn’t secretly an alien or a demon as well. Two in the family is quite enough to find out about in one day.”

Dipper chuckled. “Don’t worry, she’s full-blooded human. Blue blooded perhaps, but definitely of this Earth.”

The two of them entered the museum to find it dishearteningly silent. Pacifica and Merrise stood amongst the exhibits, lost in the empty lobby. Dipper’s eyes furtively darted around, scouting behind every display case where a creature might be lurking. Without the ebb and flow of a crowd the sound was deadened by the exhibits. He checked his old energy scanner and saw a pulse in the east wing, just past the planetarium. “Alright, fan out,” Dipper said, “but don’t wander off,” he directed at Merrise. “We want to be able to work together when we find this thing.”

“Gotcha,” she replied. “I’ll only spend 5 minutes in the gift shop instead of 10.” She ran her hands along a large plastic model of the moon, enjoying watching it spin. “Hello Luna.”

“You know, I was never very ‘good’ at museums.” Pacifica followed her daughter, holding her Pine Tree pendant up as if it was a ward against evil. The enchantment it possessed could give them an early warning of danger as keen as any of her husband’s fancy detectors. “Always reminded me too much of the tutors my parents forced on me. I had to study up on every topic so museums had nothing extra to offer. Plus the history museum in town sucked.”

“It’s not all bad,” Dipper said, “there are some fascinating halls down in the basement you should check out one day.”

Pacifica craned her neck around and put a protective arm around Merrise. “This place isn’t too big. There can’t be many places to hide. We should be ready for anything.”

Merrise nodded and started flipping through her journal, hoping that they’d run into something found in its pages. They weren’t armed as such, since they had no idea what they might be facing. Any pre-prepared weapons might turn out to be useless, not that they had any to fall back on in any case. Instead Dipper was hoping that with the journals’ insight and the rapid changes of form, they could find whatever they needed to combat the tulpa within the museum itself. As plans went it wasn’t his finest, but he wasn’t about to say that with his mother in earshot.

Beside him, he heard his mother tsking as she studied Journal 2. “Some of this stuff sounds ridiculous. Blood rain, super termites, dimensions filled with witches and owls and demon kings. I never knew Marc’s uncle was like this. This is supposed to be scientific?”

“It’s all real, believe me,” Pacifica said. “Normal rules don’t apply in Gravity Falls. You can trust me, I’m a native. You can’t walk five yards in that town without discovering a new species previously unknown to mankind.”

“Perhaps it’s a shame then that we… that I never visited.” She sounded genuinely sad to have missed out. Who wouldn’t, Dipper thought. The world was so much bigger than anyone outside the Falls really knew.

Entering the east wing, Dipper was glad that he had thought to bring flashlights. The area was shrouded in darkness. A velvet rope blocked off access and he climbed over it. A set of double doors refused his attempt to open it.

“What are you doing, Dipper?” Mrs Pines asked. “It’s sealed off.”

“Dad, it does say forbidden.” Merrise shone her flashlight at the sign. “No entry except to staff.”

“Lighten up, there’s no-one here to tell me off. It’s probably closed for the winter season or something. The scanner says our tulpa is most likely through here.” He finally succeeded in jimmying the door open, falling inwards. When he looked up it was straight into the eyes of an attacking predator. A velociraptor in mid-jump coming straight towards him. Dipper panicked and stumbled backwards, but felt embarrassed when Pacifica started laughing.

Her torch beam revealed his attacker to be a stationary model. “Ha ha,” he said dryly, getting to his feet. “That’s my karmic punishment for ignoring the warning signs I suppose.” He panned his light around and was disheartened. The east wing dinosaur exhibit would have been genuinely impressive in the light. In its absence, the carefully arranged displays of dinosaurs amid faux-jungle was nothing more than a maze, with flashing teeth and claws around every corner. “Now I know how Ghost Eyes felt when we tricked him in Salem.”

Pacifica’s beam alighted on a velociraptor’s eye, shimmering and reflecting back at her in the glass. “Freaky. It’s like being in the Mystery Shack after dark.”

“What were you and Dad doing in that place at night?” Merrise asked, before making a kissy face.

Pacifica scowled, though Merrise couldn’t see the expression in the dark. “Yeah yeah, we were all young once. Don’t lose focus, little miss.”

Merrise giggled and ran ahead, only to stop up short as she entered the main room of the wing. “Woah. This planet has some scary wildlife.” Caught in her beam was the exposed skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, reaching up to the ceiling and posed in a frozen roar. It completely dwarfed Merrise, who’s entire body was smaller than a single leg bone.

“Don’t worry,” Dipper said, putting an arm around her. “They’re extinct. Mostly.” He grimaced. “We’ll be fine so long as the tulpa doesn’t manifest as one of them. We don’t have Stan around to punch one in the nose,” Dipper said, fondly remembering.

“Oh come on!” Mrs Pines threw up her arms in frustration. “Mason, you can’t seriously tell me you’ve encountered dinosaurs before.”

“Sure,” he said, shrugging. “They were frozen in amber and a heatwave-”

She cut him off, tutting and shaking her head. But while she was struggling to take it all in, Pacifica noticed something odd. Behind her husband and daughter, the vast fossilised T-Rex seemed to have a thicker shadow than it should. A near imperceptible motion made her swallow.

Mrs Pines was completely oblivious. “I like to think I have an open mind. There’s a lot I will accept. But I cannot believe you’ve seen a real, live dinosaur!”

“Well then you’d better start believing very fast, Mary.” Pacifica shone her flashlight at the T-Rex’s skull. Inexorably, the shadow twitched and then moved into the light. Standing right behind the skeleton, with flesh on the bones, was the genuine article.

The roar it gave echoed around the abandoned hall. Flecks of spittle rained down on the family. Dipper and Merrise sprung into action, diving away and sprinting across the room. Mrs Pines stood still, paralysed as the titanic biped stared her down with hungry intent. Pacifica barrelled into her mother-in-law and the two of them rolled away right as the powerful jaws clamped down on the empty air where they’d been standing. They fled under the vast skeleton, but were forced to halt when the tulpa swung its tail at the display. Bones came crashing down around them.

“What are the weaknesses!?” Pacifica yelled at Dipper. She and Mrs Pines cowered underneath the still-standing lattice of bones that formed the skeleton T-Rex’s ribcage, while the living one repeatedly slammed its head into the display.

Dipper held his flashlight in his teeth, illuminating the giant reptile as he flipped through his journal to the index at the back. “D, Dinosaurs. Oh no. Dinosaurs are in Journal 3!” he called.

“Great, fat lot of good that does us!” Pacifica shot back. Clattering bones rained around Mrs Pines as she feebly covered her head with her hands. Her flashlight shimmered off the T-Rex’s thick skin. It had a slight bronze sheen, the only hint that it wasn’t a genuine dinosaur.

“It’s got little arms though, and it’s slow!” Merrise said, breaking into a run towards the T-Rex’s claws. “That’s a weakness enough.” Dipper reached out to stop her, but knew she was too slippery. She ran right between the T-Rex’s legs, making it abandon its attack on the others. Merrise’s slender frame belied the impressive burst of speed she was capable of. She hadn’t survived on her own for years without being able to escape from sticky situations in the blink of an eye.

Strained from the effort of swinging its heavy jaws around, the dinosaur seemed to tire. But then golden sparkles lit up the museum hall like a miniature sun. The tulpa shed its excessive mass for a more compact form that required less energy. Unfortunately the form it chose was a much more efficient hunter to chase down Merrise. Dipper looked on the form with wry amusement. Four spindly legs held up a fleshy, insectoid torso. The tulpa had taken the neutral form of the shapeshifter. A piercing howl brought Dipper back to the danger of the present situation.

Running to intercept the tulpa from catching Merrise, Dipper waved his arms around and cried out. “Hey, over here, I’m a juicier target, more meat on my bones than that stick insect kid!”

“Hey!” Merrise said, briefly halting and throwing an annoyed look at her father.

“It’s true, you need to build some more body mass.” Dipper’s call did the trick though, and the shapeshifter began pursuing him. “Uh oh.” He sprinted back into the jungle display, hoping to lose the creature among the replica dinosaurs. This was something he regretted almost instantly, as it simply made it easier for the tulpa to blend in and surprise him. Crouching behind a plastic stegosaurus, Dipper tried to slow his racing heart.

A spindly fist exploded through the side of the dinosaur and peppered him with shrapnel. The shapeshifter was climbing through and baring its teeth, until, screaming a war cry, Pacifica charged towards it and brought her journal swinging down on the creature’s head. It whimpered and scuttled away, morphing into a hefty spider-demon to gain speed. Pacifica shook detritus off of the golden llama on the front cover of her journal. “‘Books are the greatest weapon’, my ass.” She held out her hand and pulled her husband to his feet. “How are we meant to stop it switching around as a billion different killer monsters?”

“I was thinking of using a spell-”

“Pshaww, yeah right.”

“Hey, Mabel and Zera aren’t the only ones who can use magic.”

“If you call repeating the same spell 50 times before it works ‘magic’.”

“Drain it of energy, that’s what you said.” Mrs Pines was out of breath as she ran over to them. “You’re the experts, you tell me how to fight these creatures.” She was putting her trust in them for now, and Dipper nodded. Pointing to the rafters he spotted the tulpa high above, swinging from a web.

“Unless we have any giant boots lying around-” His words died in his throat as the golden monster dropped from the ceiling and changed form yet again. The floor shook as it squatted low to the ground, with a rocky carapace and shining gemstones for eyes. “That’s a Rosetta, they’re-”

“Weak to gold!” Merrise called. By luck she had already found the relevant page in Journal 4.

“Now where do we find-”

“Wedding rings!” Pacifica shouted, slipping hers off and flinging it at the rock beast. It instinctively recoiled, folding its outer plates up to form a defensive shield. Before Dipper and his mother had a chance to add their own rings to the assault, the tulpa shifted, losing even more mass in the process. It was no bigger than a child now, and would’ve outrun them had Merrise not reappeared and tackled it to the ground.

Pacifica halted to pick up her ring, slipping it on guiltily under Dipper’s glare. “What? Our lives are more important than a token of our marriage.”

“Fair enough. Merrise, what have you got there?”

She had the tulpa’s arms pinned behind its back and let Dipper shine the flashlight in its face. “It’s you!” Mrs Pines said, shocked. Dipper saw that the tulpa was indeed a clone of himself at age 12, except with a number two on his cap instead of a pine tree.

“A paper clone,” he stated. As the clone was a more or less accurate recreation of Tyrone, the tulpa’s only thoughts became of survival. It struggled to break free, desperate to bolt.

“Ooh, I know these guys, they’re weak to water!” Merrise said, excitedly releasing her captive clone and running to a nearby fire hose fixed to the wall. She shot a spray of liquid at the tulpa, which shrank and hissed.

Blocked by the spray, Merrise missed the tulpa shift again. Sharp claws, a bulky fur-clad body, and vicious teeth burst out from the tiny copy of Dipper. “Wait, stop!” the real Dipper cried. “That’s the Gremloblin, water isn’t a weakness, it’s-”

The monster hollered and sprouted a pair of leathery wings. Merrise turned off the hose. It made a pathetic squeak and drew the tulpa’s attention. She had nowhere to escape to as it surged toward her. She dropped the hose and ran but far too late. As the Gremloblin flapped its wings it knocked both Dipper and Pacifica out of the way on opposite sides of the room. Caught in the blade-like talons, Merrise wriggled ineffectively and screamed for help. The monster was between Merrise and her parents. Only Mrs Pines was close, and she trembled like a leaf.

“Mirror, need a mirror,” Dipper said in panic, patting himself down.

“Compact!” Pacifica shouted triumphantly. “Never leave home without it. Mary!” She tossed the compact through the air and Mrs Pines gave a leap to catch it. Unsure what would happen but desperate to save Merrise, she put herself between the tulpa and its prey and held the mirror high. The Gremloblin’s nightmare inducing eyes were turned back on itself and the tulpa promptly dropped Merrise. She fell to the floor, but gave a shaky thumbs up to show she was ok.

The tulpa writhed in agony, shedding yet more of its golden aura and shrinking again. Dipper briefly saw seven eyes beneath a hood. “Jheselbraum?” Her enigmatic face turned to him, before sagely nodding. The shrinking continued until the tulpa manifested as a small black stone tied to a necklace. Dipper hurtled forwards and threw his body on top of Gideon Gleeful’s telepathy amulet. “Gotcha. No more changing forms please.” Tentatively he rolled clear and clutched the amulet in his hand. A final shower of particles came from the tulpa, before it lost all sign of life. It really was just an inanimate necklace now. “We did it!” Dipper held their defeated foe aloft.

“Yippee,” Merrise said, before lying back on the floor, feeling as tired as the tulpa. Pacifica wandered over and tickled her in the side, causing a burst of laughter. Merrise bounded to her feet and examined the amulet. “Is it dormant?”

“Looks like it. For now at least, until we can reunite with Errata.” Dipper pocketed the artefact. “Everyone still got their journals?”

“I think I need a moment,” Mrs Pines said. She was holding Journal 2 tightly to her chest, her fingers digging into the cover. “That was exhilarating. Are any of you hurt?” she asked, and the others all shook their heads. “Thank goodness. I suppose you’re not half bad at this adventuring lark.”

“It has its ups and downs,” Dipper admitted. “But you can’t deny it’s a lot of fun.” His mother smiled for the first time since the crisis had begun.

“Come on, we’d better leave. We caused a rather large mess.” She gestured at the overturned dinosaur statues and torn up imitation jungle.

“Add it to the list with Amazing Al’s,” Dipper said, smirking.

As the four of them made a quick retreat back to the lobby, Pacifica took a quiet moment to talk to Dipper. “I’m starting to see where you get it from.”

“Get what from?” he asked.

“Everything. You’re not so different really. You have your mother’s neurotic paranoia.”

“Thanks,” he said, “You’re still great at compliments as always, Paz.”

“Not like that,” she said, smiling. “I meant it in a sweet way. You care about us, a lot. Maybe too much sometimes, and that makes you overcorrect.”

Dipper blushed. “I love it when you’re genuine.” She smiled back and they held hands.

Before leaving the museum, Merrise held up a palm. “Sorry, gimme a sec.” She ran into the gift shop by the exit and came out carrying a plush T-Rex. “I wanted a souvenir.”

“You have to pay for that!” Pacifica stammered. “It’s not free.”

“No-one will miss it,” Merrise said, beaming and hugging the new toy. Dipper shook his head and grinned. Once a thief, always a thief. “Besides, Mabel says capitalism is always theft,” Merrise added.

“Well Mabel isn’t here right now,” Pacifica said through gritted teeth. “I need to have a word with that hippy, she’s filling your head with too much 60’s counterculture nonsense.”

“I think she deserves it.” Mrs Pines surprised the others with her statement. She patted Merrise on the back and sent her happily skipping away. “Not every kid can say they’ve beaten a T-Rex… demon… thing. Maybe we could all do with loosening up a bit.”

Curious, Dipper sidled up beside his mother. “Where’s this sudden charity coming from?”

Mrs Pines crept close and whispered. “I realised something, Dipper, when I witnessed Merrise back there, in the midst of the action. She was enjoying herself. From what you’ve mentioned of her past… I’ll simply say that as long as that girl doesn’t have to suffer from hunger pangs and has a roof over her head, then maybe some good has come from all this supernatural stuff.” Dipper’s grin nearly leapt off his face, and Pacifica softened her stance. His mother was finally coming around and who was she to argue? “Don’t take it the wrong way, I’m still disappointed in you and your sister. But now’s not the time for recriminations.”

Dipper drew a serious expression. “Speaking of Mabel, I hope her retrieval mission is going as well as ours,” he said, emerging out into the wintry afternoon.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfic #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #dipper and mabel's parents

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aaknopf · 2 years ago

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Hello, dear April readers! Our poetry month begins with Brenda Shaughnessy, whose new collection celebrates female artists, lovers, friends, and mentors—the relationships between women that invite creativity and self-belief, and illuminate a path forward. The poet’s long-ago roommate Tanya, for whom the book is named (“magical like all girls—have you ever met an ordinary one?”), was a catalyst in her young life; throughout this month, we’ll take note, where we can, of the touchstone relationships that inspire and accompany our poets.

Here, the fourth section from Shaughnessy’s multi-part poem “Coursework” honors the spark lit by her influential teacher of literature, Helene Moglen. This professor, she realizes, “would lead me to that place books always promised…a mix of judgment and soul, of egos and logos and trust / that everything that happened in books happened inside us.”

from Coursework

Didn’t everything become, once you said it out loud?

A student in our class once said, out loud: “I left the theater after a movie and caught a glimpse of someone in the mirror I didn’t recognize as myself.”

And, Helene, you said in reply: “yes, you look at a sunset and find that you are weeping.”

It was a suddenly recurring moment we were all stunned to recognize

that it was only at this moment we recognized all the ways we did not recognize ourselves

until that moment, when we knew we knew we saw ourselves

and knew we knew we were each other.

And hidden in this clarity was our new knowledge that emotions were sensory,

that is: emotions had a way in and out of the body through senses,

and that reading cracked our glass covering and fit the tip

to our senses through which our bodies learned to read.

That my inner feelings and thoughts could be touched, contacted, radioed, by the outside world

and that I could transmit my own inner reality to the outside world if I made a material, sensory object to carry them out—

writing, art, music—those were the ways, the work, the course of the vessels.

I had to know how that work worked how that way was made so I could learn to make it myself.

And reading with Helene was how I would begin or continue to go deeper, serious, way out of my depth.

I became a writer by becoming a reader—this fact lifted confusion clear out of the page.

. .