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skygemspeaks · 3 years ago

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thinking about how jak used to be mute up until the dark warrior program, and what if his dad taught him sign language to be able to communicate?

When he gets sent back to the past, he doesn't really have anyone to practise it with because no one can be bothered to learn. Until he meets daxter.

They spend so much time together that daxter picks up the language in no time. It's not exactly the same as the one jak's dad had taught him - he's forgotten a lot of the signs due to disuse, but that's okay because he and daxter can make up new ones in their place.

Then they get sent to the future, and suddenly there's a little kid with wispy green hair and these big big blue eyes, and somehow he knows daxter and jak's private sign language.

Or...part of it, at least? Some of the signs are different, and sometimes he stares at jak in complete bafflement, but they can understand each other about half the time and that's better than nothing. When they find out that the kid is Jak's younger self, it doesn't come as much of a surprise.

Then, later down the line, jak and daxter are in spargus, and they're relaxing by the ocean one day.

Jak is having one of his non-verbal days. They don't come as often as they used to, back after daxter had first rescued him in haven city, but the two of them fall into easy conversation just the same, using their own private sign language

And this is the scene damas walks into: jak and daxter sitting across from each other on the beach. Daxter is telling some kind of story, his gestures big and exaggerated, and jak is just laughing silently at him, light and carefree in a way damas has never seen from him before.

Damas watches on the sidelines for a while. He doesn't want to interrupt, but the signs daxter is using are familiar to him, like a half-forgotten dream.

After a few minutes, Daxter finally notices him and calls him over

Damas mentions thay he didn't know the two of them could sign, and Daxter explains that yeah, jak was mute when he was younger, and signing was how they would communicate with each other

Damas nods, impressed. "You two seem to be picking up Spargan Sign Language rather quickly. Some of your signs are still from Haven Sign, but you have the grammar down well."

There's approval in his voice but jak and daxter don't seem to notice it. They're just staring at damas with bafflement in their eyes.

"Spargan Sign Language?" Jak asks, the first words he's said all day.

Damas nods, and repeats the name in SSL.

"I don't know Haven Sign myself, but I was able to understand the gist of what you were saying. Something about the...Naughty Ottsel?" His words take on a questioning tone

Jak and Daxter aren't listening to him anymore. They seem to be having an argument, mixing meaningful looks, half-uttered phrases, and the occasional sign in a confusing meddley that no one other than the two of them has any hope of understanding

And in the end, Jak seems to be on the losing side of the argument, because he just drops his head in defeat and Daxter turns to Damas with a triumphant grin on his face.

The whole story comes out then, every grisly detail of it, and by the end, all Damas can do is stare at the two of them speechlessly.

He believes them, there's no way he couldn't with how ridiculous the story is, but the true depth of the tragedy he's just heard threatens to overwhelm him.

But daxter is grinning excitedly up at him, finishing off the whole sordid tale by saying, "if the sign language jak knows is from spargus, that must mean his family is from here! Please, sandy, you gotta help us find them!"

Jak had been avoiding damas' gaze the throughout the whole tale, but now he looks up almost hesitantly, his gaze skirting self-consciously away from damas as soon he notices the man staring at him

And suddenly, everything about him is painfully familiar, from those dark blue eyes clear as the ocean on a sunny day, to the strong curve of his jaw, to the nervous fingers twitching into a half-formed sign to fill the empty space between them before he stops himself

"Mar," he chokes out past the lump in his throat, and jak startles as if he has been electrocuted.

He stares up at damas with disbelief scrawled across his features.

But he doesn't pull away as damas steps slowly forward, and pulls him into a desperate hug.

Things are still awful, and damas doesn't know how he can even begin to apologize to jak for not being there when he needed him most

But for now, he's holding his son in his arms, grown into the man that damas had always known he would become, and he can't think of anywhere else he'd rather be

#jak and daxter #jak 3 spoilers #jak 3 #jak #daxter #damas

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tylerwritez · 4 years ago

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Tuesday, june 22 2021

I've noticed I'm getting "the shiverys" or "the twitchy" a lot today. Like every time I FEEL something I take a moment to violently tic.... every time I think about certain things I tic.... good things, bad things, things from an hour ago and things from years ago. Tic, tic, tic.

Also, I have... some stuff to explain. Its really no big deal, but you know me: I'll freak out about it anyway. Basically I dissed my friend (rightfully so) around the time that we had just met cos they did something that threw me off.

He saw it in my phone... NOW. it's not RELEVANT anymore and I've since redacted that criticism...and now I gotta explain it to him anwyays. Oh well. I'm good at this stuff. I can get myself outta any situation. I dont even know why I'm talking like this tho... it's not a "Situation" it's just smthn I gotta explain rq.

Oh, today's song recommendation is Spirit Crusher by Death. I'm a huge Death fan...

Also! I gotta study... for my replacement exam. How stressful. Its about photosynthesis, but like, it's not simple. We went DEEP inside those fucking leaves.

One sec, lemme hook up my IV tube

Not an ACTUAL IV tube... just my headphones. But since I'm so #emo, it might as well be a fucking IV tube with the way that I cant live without it.

Its 3:08 and I'm walking home now. I was upset last night but me and Star have made up now lol... it was thAt easy. I'm so defective, making shit hard when it doesnt need to be.

It's so hot out damn. Idk. I had school today, so I had Bio class... I ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION for once. I had lunch with Star and her friend group, and I honestly kinda feel like they're MY friends now too, even just a little bit.

Actually, I used to rant about feeling lonely like all the time but now I have so many friends it's crazy they all keep inviting me places and it's like people WANT ME AROUND... idk. It makes me happy.

Today I gotta ask if tommroow after school I can go to Bee's house to watch Supernatural (famous homoerotic ghost show)

I should also add songs to Erin's spotify playlist for our picnic saturday which I still need permission to go to.

I gotta ask for Wednesday after school to watch Insidious with Jay which is apparently really good

Also hes the friend that I gotta explain stuff to... the DrAmA... the ThEaTrE....

Update my dad said yes to hanging out with Bee but first I'm gonna miss school to fix my broken brackets on my braces

Also turns out the house I THOUGHT we were moving into has substantial damage from shifting so... we aRENT moving there.

In case you didn't know, shifting is when like the house that's been built literally SHIFTS like it moves around.

Anwyays Jay just texted me... I'm gonna change into shorts since it's hot, set up my study area,.... and respond to him.

The time is 3:22 p.m.

Wish me. Luck.

Luck is plentiful! As it so often is in my risky, risky life.

I play my cards right. It's a learnt skill.

But also there wasnt much to explain since it passed already and was tiny anywyas.

XD so I've made up with the whole goddamn world by now.

Its 6:31, we saw 1 house. Only one. Its kinda hot out but I'm gonna bike now since we just had supper. I finally finished my homework... I just have to finish one mixed media piece as my final project for art!

Friday is my replacement. On photosynthesis and cell resp. We know this. But what I didn't mention, or I dont THINK I did, is that if I finish my art project before then I have the second block FREE!!! Me, Star, and her friend

A are planning to leave for second block and maybe get mint chocolate chip ice cream!

Also I might eat her out XD

Anyways idk. I hope I can bike tonight to call Jay.

I keep accidentally using people's real names here then having to correct it... I dont know how much i care about MY identity being discovered... but to have my friends doxxed would suck.

Man I feel bad abt saying fuck star last night cos we made up....

Wait we r looking at another house? Idk I'm in the car still waiting to go home

Oh wait no now we r goin home

Its 6:39... I hope I still have time.

I went biking, called Jay. Went home. Idk, friendly conversation... we talked more tonight and I also talked to my other friend A. Jay is... I LOVE HIM?? SO MUCH??? I feel so happy. Talking to him thinking about him seeing his STUPID FUCKING FACE JESUS. his eyes alone... I could stare at his face all day probably. I want to kiss him... hOLD HIS HAND... omg... huG HIM!!! Eofjwpxjwie he's so sweet like I can't even... and I'm proabably not good enough for him like. Wtf. Hes easily a 10. And I dont rate things outta 10. How tf do I end up with HIM? Doing stuff, as friends. Like wHAT. I guess I got lucky XD. He says he loves my personality and I'm hot XD ofc I dont see it myself. But like. JESUS CHRIST he could proabably easily pull whOever. XD me?

Whatever though. As long as we r together and stuff. I LOVE HIM A LOT. he said he loved me. Every time he says that it makes me so overly happy.

Maybe I'm just sappy and stuff.... whatever. I think it would be nice to be hugged by him.

Yeah I'm cheesy.

I'm sorta tired now so maybe I'm not writing the best.

I just keep thinkinf about love. Love is a muscle of evil suggestion. But how evil can it really be? I am just a human being and that is all. Everything else is applied. I am just a human being with soemthing in my heart that pulls me all over the place. Love is this strange thing because I'm fucked up and to be able to love without that fucked up part of me, without the damage... is this complicated, hard thing to do and I can NEVER tell if I'm doing it right but I know I'm DOING IT. I know I FEEL LOVE. And soemtimes it's such an intense thing like when you go to surf on a wave at the beach with ur belly but u hit it wrong and it's so big and overwhelming it washes over you and PULLS you down to the bottom and smushes your face into the sand and YOU CANT BREATHE jesus Christ it's like that.

Or maybe I just want to experience love as it should be felt.

Obviously all of my problems surrounding this Damage could be easily fixed if I went to therapy but. there are reasons I can't.

I LOVE a lot. Too much for my own good. Enough to hurt me, get me into trouble, etc etc but also... enough to liberate me. I LOVE. I love Jay. So much. LIKE. MY BRAIN ORBITS AROUND HIM CONSTANTLY THINKING OF HIM AND PRAISING HIM AND MWUAH HE IS SO LOVELY I BOW BEFORE HIM...

I think as much as I love, a lot of the times I tend to focus even more on BEING loved.

If I am told I am loved, and shOwN I am loved... it is one of the most powerful things. Especially since I was literally emotionally neglected in childhood... yeah. I feel like I'm always trying to fill that hole.

Not EVERY feeling I have is for that reaosn but sometimes, if you tell me you love me, show me you love me, hug me,... I'll like start crying,,, that's the childhood emotional neglect kicking in. If you call me #smol and #cute and say I look young and fragile which happens more often than you'd think XD, I know I'm not supposed to like that shit, so I act like I dont....but I do. Which is PROBABLY ALSO THE CEN 🤪 like whatever lol

Anwyays I'm fucked up

You see how quickly things become complicated in my mind?

Convoluted? Is that the word?

Whatever. I OVERCOMPLICATE THINGS COS I OVERTHINK THEM BECAUSE I'm LITERALLY MENTALLY ILL IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS. I'm not joking. I obviously have unresolved undiagnosed "issues"

I do Suspect things, though.

I can make a list

Maybe I shouldn't.

Maybe I will.

I shouldnt.

Whatever.

I used to hate when people brought up my self harm. I would actually panic. I still self harm but now? Now I'm fine with anyone talking about it as long as it's not an adult who can get me into trouble/force me into therapy over it. Because really? I kinda like having it mentioned. It's kinda validating and it's like hey... people can see that I'm sick.

I dont do it so people talk to me about it though. Dont get me wrong. If I did, I'd go vertically on the arms, not for suicide but so it healed and people would ask XD.

My scars are actually VERY hidden... cos I never intended for ANYONE to see. But for those who DO see them,,,, it's nice soemtimes to have people express concern.

I dont wanna be PITIED or anything, but idk I just think to myself "wow, they're CONCERNED... about ME... they arent angry or mean... they didnt yell at me or threaten me... they respect my autonomy and privacy...

And they CARE ABOUT ME..." and it makes me cry.

That's also the CEN.

I dont know. I just like when people express genuine concern. Even if they see and then just ask if I'm okay. That's all it takes cos then I go wow.

Its validating and irs lovely because finally people care... FINALLY PEOPLE CARE. FINALLY I GET SOME EMPATHY OR SYMPATHY AND NO ANGER.

Even just having them brought up tells me its noticeable enough

My brain does this thing where it thinks nothing bad that's ever happened to me was Bad Enough for me to be upset about.

And I dont know... its nice sometimes to be told shit like "omg that looks so bad" or to see that people who do see my cuts are somewhat shocked or revolted... it's nice because I go... "hey, it was bad enough for them..."

Or to have people comment on them with concern. Just ANYTHINT WHERE PEOPLE NOTICE IT AND ARENT ASSHOLES ABOUT IT IS VALIDATING.

Because I'm not used to that...

Because CEN

I'm. The worst perosn on the fucking planet.

I should kill myself.

I suddenly actually feel so self hating I do want to kill myself... oh god.

I ruin everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. What have I done. Like. Why. Oh god.

I'm just remembering when Star said my kindness seemed like an act. And how I've been called out for seeming fake like 2 other times.

DO I SEEM FAKE???? I DONT EVER PUT ON ACTS OF KINDESS.... CONCIOUSLY? but the very idea that I could be perceived that way...

Should I like not try to be nice or some shit?

Jesus christ she hurts my feelings even now when it was a long time ago.

But I cant blame her. I can't blame anyone for how i feel except my parents because they left me with fucking. Heart nerve damage or some shit.

I'm tired and now I'm sad too. Goodnight guys.

#JudeJournals

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fuck-the-ccp · 5 years ago

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HONG KONG -- My dad looked disappointed when I arrived back from Hong Kong to spend the Lunar New Year holidays with family in the eastern Chinese city of Qingdao.

This year, my suitcase wasn't packed with chocolates, fine wines and premium Chungwha cigarettes. In their place were dozens of N95 masks and vitamin C supplements.

I arrived home on Jan. 23, two days before the Lunar New Year, a time when millions of Chinese families gather together. On that day, the city of Wuhan -- the epicenter of the new coronavirus -- was locked down in an attempt to prevent the spread of the disease. Five million people left the city before it was quarantined, and experts warned of dire consequences as human-to-human transmission was confirmed.

In Qingdao, a coastal city of 9 million that is more than 1,000 km from Wuhan, people were remarkably calm. Few wore masks on the streets, and wet markets were crowded with housewives hunting for fresh food to prepare for the year-end banquet.

But two days later, everything changed. People in my neighborhood woke up to the news that a man who returned from Wuhan spent two hours on the Qingdao subway, using four different lines, before showing symptoms of the virus. The number of deaths nationwide jumped to 41, with more than 1,000 cases.

My family thought it was strange that I washed my hands 20 times a day and wore a mask and gloves everywhere. My aunt tried to comfort me: "Don't worry. It will get better soon." And she ignored my demonstrations on how to wear masks properly. Instead she shared on article in our family WeChat group with the headline: "All the diseases are illusional and the best way to cure a disease is to live a healthy life."

As a conscientious journalist, I immediately reported the post to China's internet censors for containing false information that could mislead middle-aged and elderly people.

But when I walked into the living room that morning, my dad was unwrapping the package of the vitamin C supplements I brought to strengthen his immune system against the virus. Having not previously touched it, he was reading the instructions. "So you just put it in water and drink, right?" he asked.

Outside, it was eerily quiet.

When I took a walk -- my only outing of my whole week in Qingdao -- only a few people were on the streets. Most of them were dog walkers and cleaners. Empty buses drove past. No dama, or middle-aged women, were square dancing. Only a few shops were open, and drugstores had signs saying: "Masks sold out." In one grocery store, baskets of imported bananas rotted on the shelves, along with other tropical fruits.

It did not look like a typical New Year at all.

Normally, people would trot out to visit relatives carrying gift boxes in both hands. Smiling kids in new clothes would give traditional greetings, receiving money-filled red envelopes from their adult relatives. Lovers would hang out around the spring fair at the beach, eating tanghulu candied fruits. All this would be accompanied by the raucous sound of firecrackers.

But this year, the only place where I saw people gathering was in the supermarket, and they were panic buying, stocking up on food.

My family decided it was too risky to compete with the crowd of shoppers. Instead, we decided to downsize our usually lavish New Year meals. We had almost 20 dishes plus dumplings for dinner on New Year's Eve, with the number whittled down to 15, to 10, to eight by the time I left. We were the lucky ones. In Wuhan, the front-line doctors and nurses were surviving on cup noodles.

My parents and I spent the holiday with the families of my dad's three sisters in my grandmother's old house. With outdoor activities off the table, we managed to have some fun at home.

Our favorite pastime was to play a Qingdao-originated card game called baohuang, or protecting the emperor. I loved the game when I was little but for years couldn't find enough people to play with me; everyone always had something more important to do. With the virus bringing the city to a halt, though, I finally got to revisit a childhood indulgence.

We also followed the news closely. It was depressing to see the death toll climb to hundreds within days. Nearby, more villages and housing estates were being quarantined due to suspected cases.

Everyone in my family was affected in some way.

My cousin had to cancel his train ticket to Shanghai because his company postponed the date for employees to return to work. My 8-year-old niece had to take online courses to keep up with her studies. My younger aunt couldn't join us because she worked in a hospital treating coronavirus patients. My dad, who owns a small machinery factory, had to hold off production despite a looming delivery deadline.

And there was me, remotely interviewing people from Wuhan and writing their horrifying stories. They broke my heart.

What an awful beginning to 2020. Can whatever god please restart it?

I secretly rejoiced that my beloved grandmother, who died a month ago, did not have to see the suffering of her people and her nation. She'd have been very sad.

But life must go on. After spending the week with my family, I was due to fly to Tokyo for work.

The night before I departed, my dad was smoking on the couch, frowning. The number of confirmed cases had climbed to 7,711, from 571 on the day I arrived in Qingdao.

"Do you have to go?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "it's better for someone in the family to be outside China if things get worse."

Dad bent his head in silence. He put out his cigarette.

"We of course want you to be with us," he said. "But I think you should leave. It's a good thing for you."

I cried.

Update: My cousin has since made it back to work in Shanghai, my niece is still studying online, my aunt remains busy at the hospital, and my father insists he is taking his vitamin C. As for me, I'm working at home under self-imposed quarantine in Hong Kong, where I wrote this memoir.

#coronavirus #china coronavirus #corinavirus outbreak #china #mainland china #china news #wuhan pneumonia #wuhan virus #news article #source: asian review #hong kong

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givenchyic · 5 years ago

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It probably won’t come as a surprise that since I have been writing for the wonderful antique and vintage jewellery company Lillicoco, I have become more than just a little bit obsessed with jewellery

I mean, it was going to happen at some point. Jewellery is, of course, the finishing touch of an outfit and another elegant way you can show your personal style.

Not to mention, since writing about jewellery has become my main financial source for my livelihood, I have become drunk on the knowledge – and trust me, there are lots. I could probably wax lyrical about how cool antique jewellery is, a far cry from any fussy associations and misconceptions people have.

But it has meant that I appreciate jewellery more than I ever have, and have been inevitably drawn towards numerous jewellery brands.

A point of interest that has developed within me in that last year or so is an interest in the classical world of the Romans and Greeks. That interest admittedly was always there, but I have nourished this fascinating past more in my spare time. And, do you know who also loved these ancient societies and as a result created a bunch of jewellery using ancient techniques, motifs and styles – the Victorians. In fact, in July or August, I am planning on exploring this further on the Lillicoco blog so I will spare you with that incessant babble… for now. But, below are my five favourite current jewellery brands which, coincidentally, have clearly taken design inspiration from ancient civilisations, societies that continue to seduce us with their captivating mythologies and omnipotent symbolism.

Hermina Athens

Stocked at Liberty and Co, Hermina Athens is a Greek jewellery brand creating timeless pieces that pay homage to Greece’s rich mythological and artistic heritage. From bejewelled medallion necklaces to shimmering plump baroque pearl earrings and Gold portraits of Goddesses, each piece is the perfect combination of a refined and polished look with the honesty and heart of handcrafted jewellery.

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I first came across Hermina Athens through the wonderful world of Instagram explore. Captivated by their necklaces, bracelets and earrings, (not to mention they sell really cute bags too!), I was instantly transported to the cerulean waters and frothy sand beaches of the Greek islands.

I was lucky enough that I received one of their stunning pieces for my birthday this year from my dad! When he asked me what jewellery brands I liked prior to the big day, this one was the first I sent. I received the gorgeous Kressida pendant, which takes its origins from traditional ancient talismans. It wasn’t just the pendant that was gorgeous, but the lilac and blue packaging too was for me, a match made in heaven.

The Boutique Minimaliste

For me, there is nothing better than pieces that look expensive but are seriously affordable, and the Boutique Minimaliste does just that. Championed by style influencer Lorna Luxe (who I do inevitably plan on doing a “how to dress” like her blog post similar to my Jeanne Damas one), these pieces perfectly encapsulate the sensibilities of the modern woman.

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Based in Lisbon, the brand focuses on creating jewellery that fuses the sleek aesthetic of geometry with the raw powers of nature. Oozing sophistication, each piece is infinitely wearable, adding a glowing touch to both a starchy white shirt or laissez-faire t-shirt.

One of the things that I love the most is that they have included an abundance of shells and baroque pearls into their creations too. Which not only celebrates mother nature’s talents but also it means that each piece will inevitably be unique in its own way.

Manom Jewellery

Fierce and whimsical, Manom jewellery instantly evokes ethereal wonderlands and magical dreamscapes. Created by Japanese jewellery designer Mayo in her South London studio, Manom jewellery castes romantic narrative in Gold and Silver plated enamelled designs.

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Since I love enchanting fairytales and magical realism, Manom’s creations speak to me quite literally on another plain. I long to feel the gracious Moon hoops swinging on my earlobes (also adorned by Kate Moss no less) and the sweet animal pendants are just the right amount of kitschy cuteness.

Also, as an antique jewellery aficionado, the Georgian and Victorian motifs like Lover’s Eye Jewellery is present in her Journey to Yoghulherp Forest collection.

All in all, the perfect way to add a touch of magic to your everyday wear.

Aglihieri

I love it when brands have genuine stories and inspirations behind their craftsmanship, especially ones of literary and artistic meaning. This next brand, Aglihieri, does just that.

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Founded in 2014, Aglihieri aims to create timeless modern heirlooms that can easily be passed from mother to daughter or father to son. Created in London’s Hattan Garden, the jewellery is inspired by Dante’s Aglihieri “Divine Comedy” an epic 14th-century poem exploring the realms of the afterlife in Catholic Europe. Plus, and a major plus in my eyes, during Covid-19 they are donating 10% of their profits to Refuge, a domestic abuse charity.

From haunty chunky signet rings to abstract molten gold, these pieces are incredibly animated, vibrant and esoteric, giving us a rare glimpse into Dante’s mind.

Wolf and Gypsy

Launched in 2018, Wolf and Gypsy was created to make fine modern-day affordable heirlooms crafted from Sterling Silver, 14ct Gold and semi-precious gemstones. Featuring staples like coin medallions, t-bars, and dainty charms, these necklaces are the perfect accessory for both work and play.

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Like the other jewellery brands in this curation, it’s hard not to see the Etruscan, Hellenistic and ancient Egyptian influences from the bust of Nefertiti pendant to a saturated Lapis Lazuli hugged by Gold Vermeil. When choosing a pendant, you can also choose a designed chain length too, so you can easily create a layered necklace look.

What’s more, their pretty collection of earrings are designed for multiple pierced ears, so like their necklaces, you can adorn and accessorise yourself to your heart’s content.

If you like to see more of my jewellery loves and my personal affections for everything sparkly, check out my “Little Things” Pinterest board!

Thank you for reading!

Molly x

Five Jewellery Brands I Just Can’t Stop Thinking About It probably won’t come as a surprise that since I have been writing for the wonderful antique and vintage jewellery company Lillicoco, I have become more than just a little bit obsessed with jewellery…

#aglihierijewellery #bloggerstyle #boutiqueminimaliste #bristolblogger #fashionblogger #goldjewellery #herminaathens #jewellery #jewelleryblog #jewellerybrands #manomjewellery #wolfandgyspy

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johnboothus · 5 years ago

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Meet Bricia Lopez the L.A. Restaurateur Who Fueled Americas Mezcal Obsession

In Los Angeles today, a cocktail bar that doesn’t serve mezcal is almost as rare as one that doesn’t serve vodka. This was not the case 10 or 15 years ago, and probably wouldn’t be if not for the work of one restaurateur and bar owner, Bricia Lopez.

Lopez, who moved from Mitla, Oaxaca to L.A. with her family at the age of 10, can’t point to a specific moment that mezcal became part of her life; rather, coming from a long line of mezcal craftspeople, it’s something that she was always around.

“The way I like to describe it is, if you grew up in a home full of musicians and someone asks you when you were first exposed to music, you can’t remember one moment,” Lopez says.

Well before she was old enough to drink it, the smell and the essence of mezcal, she says, were part of her environment. Growing up in the food and drink industry — her grandparents and parents were mezcal makers, business owners, and restaurateurs — Lopez’s first job in the family business was, as a 5-year-old, going into town and convincing people to come into her dad’s store to try mezcal.

Bricia Lopez opened her latest mezcal bar, Mama Rabbit at the Park MGM in Las Vegas, in July 2019.

In a way, that’s still her job: Today, Lopez and her siblings run her family’s restaurant, Guelaguetza, in Los Angeles, which her father opened in 1994. In keeping with Guelaguetza’s menu of traditional, regional Oaxacan cuisine, Lopez convinced her father to let her open a dedicated mezcal bar within the restaurant nearly a decade ago, when the spirit was virtually unknown to Americans.

Most recently, Lopez launched a new mezcal and tequila bar on the Las Vegas strip, called Mama Rabbit, at the Park MGM. At over 500 labels, the menu boasts the biggest selection of agave-based spirits in the U.S.

Growing Up Mezcal

Although mezcal has always been around her, Lopez says it was around 2008 or 2009 that she developed a new and inspired relationship with the spirit. While traveling to Oaxaca, Lopez heard from farmers and craftspeople who offered a perspective on mezcal that she hadn’t heard before. At one dinner in particular, farmers were discussing different varieties of wild agave and other aspects of the growing and crafting process, which she says offered a romanticism she had never before associated with the spirit.

“I felt that it was calling me back into that world,” Lopez says. Back in L.A., her newfound enthusiasm led her to start gifting bottles of mezcal to friends who worked in the bar and restaurant industry. The timing was perfect: The mid-to-late aughts were experiencing a renaissance in cocktail culture, as landmark bars like Death & Co. and Milk & Honey opened in New York City, and the enthusiasm spread to L.A. bars like The Varnish.

“I think bartenders really loved mezcal because it allowed them to create new cocktail experiences that guests would have otherwise never experienced,” Lopez says. “That’s when I started getting to be known in that circle as someone who was really knowledgeable about mezcal.”

It was around this time, she recalls, that she opened the Mezcaleria at Guelaguetza. It was in October 2011, not long after what The Los Angeles Times called “the summer of Bricia Lopez.”

A New ‘In’ for Mezcal

Lopez’s efforts eventually paid off. As drinkers began to turn their attention more to craft cocktails, there was a new “in” for mezcal, and mezcal cocktails began to pop up around the city. Many were even named after her: There was “Sweet Bricia” at 320 Main in Seal Beach; the “Brisa de Oaxaca” at La Descarga in Hollywood; and “the Bricia” at Las Perlas in downtown L.A.

It wasn’t long before she was gaining acclaim. The late L.A. Times food critic Jonathan Gold nicknamed her the “Oaxacan Princess,” and in 2013, Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti named Lopez Los Angeles’s official mezcalera.

Despite this, much of Lopez’s work occurs behind the scenes, or is often social and informal. Her contemporaries in the L.A. cocktail scene attest to her passion and willingness to educate others: Pablo Moix, now of Old Lightning and Scopa, first met Lopez as a patron at his bar La Descarga. Moix recalls a time in the mid-aughts when he literally could not give mezcal away for free, so Lopez made a strong impression on him.

“There was a table ordering a bunch of mezcal and I thought, who the hell are these people? So I went over and said hello,” Moix says. The woman at the head of the table was none other than Bricia Lopez, whom Moix says pushed him to expand his mezcal program. She did this in part by bringing in customers – friends, media, and industry folks – to drink mezcal, and by requesting he stock specific bottles and producers.

“Dama Blanca,” a mezcal cocktail at Mama Rabbit, is topped with edible flowers.

Julian Cox, another notable mixologist with years of experience in L.A. bars and restaurants, also met Lopez in the early 2000s, and credits her with educating and inspiring him to experiment with the spirit.

“She introduced me to so many mezcals. There were only a few on the market back then,” Cox says. Her pure enjoyment of mezcal cocktails pushed him to keep designing them, and her impact has been lasting.

“I always include mezcal on my cocktail menus. It’s become a part of my ethos and Bricia helped inspire that,” he says.

But Lopez and anyone familiar with her will tell you that mezcal is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Her enthusiasm stems from and extends to her love and respect for Oaxaca, its people, and its traditions. In Guelaguetza, for example, Lopez hired Oaxacan artists to create works for the restaurant. “I got my first real taste of Oaxaca at her restaurant and it made a big impact on me,” Cox says.

“For me, it wasn’t just about mezcal, it was encouraging people to understand that there was more to a culture than just food,” Lopez says. “It was about helping people, even Mexican-Americans, understand that there was more to Mexico than just tequila.”

Oaxaca, Not Mexico

Just as many Americans solely see tequila as the spirit of Mexico, Lopez’s advocacy for Oaxacan culture also stands against the American tendency to view other countries, including Mexico, as monolithic.

She believes the success of the mezcaleria was made possible precisely because of its context: At Guelaguetza, patrons are already primed to experience regionally specific cuisine, and are open to trying something new. The restaurant’s dishes and drinks deviate from the standard Mexican-American fare, but do so openly and with friendly fervor.

“We have been serving mezcal since day one, since 1994. It was just now pushing it in a different way, educating people about the fact that mezcal is not just one thing, it’s many different things,” Lopez says.

Her mission of educating people on Oaxacan culture starts by simply serving them really good food and drinks, knowing that if they like it, they’ll be inspired to learn more about the dishes, about the agave, the producers, and the farmers.

“I can’t tell you honestly how many times she did dinners in her restaurant for like, 30 people and charged them nothing,” Moix says. “She had been investing so much energy, at so much cost to her and her family, to push mezcal and Oaxacan culture and cuisine. I don’t know anyone so invested in their culture.”

And because of her passion and knowledge, she’s turned many people into mezcal lovers — from adventurous eaters and drinkers who also work in the industry, to friends who were once strictly vodka soda drinkers.

Mezcal Misconceptions

Lopez compares mezcal drinkers to wine enthusiasts, more than any other category of spirit, because of the emphasis on growers and location. However, she says, “The best way to turn a non-mezcal drinker into a mezcal drinker is through a really well-balanced cocktail. … And then from there, their taste buds get a little more familiarized — so when they go back to a regular cocktail, it’s difficult for them. They want that mezcal cocktail again.”

Despite commonly being described as a “smoky tequila,” Lopez emphasizes the diversity of the category, and says the flavor is better described as roasted than smoky. It’s this unique and often mislabeled flavor that wins new mezcal drinkers over.

“People love mezcal cocktails because it gives them something else that they can’t quite put their finger on,” she says.

Another misunderstanding she’s quick to correct is that mezcal is more than just a trend. The spirit has existed for hundreds of years, at least, and Lopez sees its inclusion on American menus as evidence of it finally becoming a standard here.

“People have been calling mezcal ‘trendy’ for the past 10 years. If something’s been ‘trendy’ for the past 10 years, it’s not really trendy anymore,” Lopez says. She points to Las Vegas now having a dedicated mezcal and tequila bar as a sign that it’s broken into the mainstream.

All of her efforts to teach about mezcal trace back to its roots: agave cultivation. “People like myself are often the ones who get the praise, but it’s really those farmers who deserve to be honored and respected,” she says.

All told, more mezcal means more recognition of Oaxacan culture and the people behind the product. “It makes me feel proud because acknowledging a spirit like mezcal is acknowledging an entire indigenous culture and the world of the farmer. Not a maker, or a trendsetter — it’s really the work of an entire generation,” Lopez says. “It just makes me proud to see an indigenous-based spirit now being a standard on a shelf.”

The article Meet Bricia Lopez, the L.A. Restaurateur Who Fueled America’s Mezcal Obsession appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/bricia-lopez-mezcal-restaurateur/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/meet-bricia-lopez-the-la-restaurateur-who-fueled-americas-mezcal-obsession

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isaiahrippinus · 5 years ago

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Meet Bricia Lopez, the L.A. Restaurateur Who Fueled America’s Mezcal Obsession

“The way I like to describe it is, if you grew up in a home full of musicians and someone asks you when you were first exposed to music, you can’t remember one moment,” Lopez says.

Bricia Lopez opened her latest mezcal bar, Mama Rabbit at the Park MGM in Las Vegas, in July 2019.

Growing Up Mezcal

It was around this time, she recalls, that she opened the Mezcaleria at Guelaguetza. It was in October 2011, not long after what The Los Angeles Times called “the summer of Bricia Lopez.”

A New ‘In’ for Mezcal

“Dama Blanca,” a mezcal cocktail at Mama Rabbit, is topped with edible flowers.

“I always include mezcal on my cocktail menus. It’s become a part of my ethos and Bricia helped inspire that,” he says.

Oaxaca, Not Mexico

Mezcal Misconceptions

“People love mezcal cocktails because it gives them something else that they can’t quite put their finger on,” she says.

The article Meet Bricia Lopez, the L.A. Restaurateur Who Fueled America’s Mezcal Obsession appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/bricia-lopez-mezcal-restaurateur/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/190141380279

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sandiegodjstaci · 6 years ago

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Karla & Brandon's Bali Hai Wedding Rager

Of all the San Diego wedding DJs calling America’s finest city home, Karla & Brandon chose me to DJ and MC their Bali Hai wedding (South Pacific Room) on June 15, 2019. The following write-up is based on San Diego DJ Staci’s crazy organized & detailed outline for this Bali Hai Restaurant wedding.

THE BALI HAI WEDDING CEREMONY

Prelude ➔ Piano, Vitamin String Quartet Processional ➔ Latch by Simply Three Bride

Processional ➔ “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” by Haley Reinhart

Recessional ➔ Brighter Than The Sun by Colbie Caillat (cue to 30 seconds/first chorus)

THE COCKTAIL HOUR & DINNER MUSIC

While San Diego DJ Staci offers couples pre-set cocktail & dinner playlists to choose from, Karla & Brandon opted to hand-select their background music for their Bali Hai restaurant wedding.

Cocktail Music ➔ Forever – Chris Brown, Everything – Michael Buble, Benny And The JetsElton John, L-O-V-E – Nat King Cole, Feel It Still – Portugal, The Man, I Do – Colbie Caillat, Africa – Toto, Sweet Home Chicago –Blues Brothers, Ob La Di – The Beatles, Hurts So Good– John Mellencamp, Wouldn’t It Be Nice – The Beach Boys, The Way You Make Me Feel – Michael Jackson, Build Me Up Buttercup – The Foundations, Sweet Child O’Mine – Guns N Roses, We Are Young – Fun, You Can’t Hurry Love – Phil Collins, Run-Around – Blues Travelers, Saturday In The Park – Chicago, Let’s Stay Together – Al Green

Dinner Music ➔ The Way I Am – Ingrid Michaelson, Cheek to Cheek – Fred Astaire, Feeling Good – Michael Buble, It Had To be You – Harry Connick Jr, The Way You Look Tonight – Frank Sinatra, Shh Boom – The Crew Cuts, Because You Loved Me – Celine Dion, Singin’ In The Rain – Gene Kelly, When I Fall In Love – Nat King Cole, Tiny Dancer – Elton John, Sea Of Love – Cat Power, That’s Amore – Dean Martin, The Luckiest – Ben Folds, Somewhere Beyond The Sea – Bobby Darin, Fade Into You – Scarlett O’Connor & Gunnar Scott, Roses And Violets – Alexander Jean, Unforgettable – Nat King Cole, Fly Me To The Moon / Lucky – Jason Mraz & Colbie Caillat, In Your Eyes – Peter Gabriel, Iris – Goo Goo Dolls, Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You – Frankie Valli, My Kind of Town (Chicago Is) – Frank Sinatra

THE BILINGUAL BALI HAI WEDDING RECEPTION

MC Welcome ➔ Good evening! Welcome to Karla & Brandon wedding reception!!! I am the Master of Ceremonies, DJ Staci. Please take your seats so we can officially welcome our guests of honor. Be sure to post your photos today with #MatchMadeInSabin. If you need to charge your devices, I do have a mini charging station up here including some universal chargers. Let& also take a minute to acknowledge a few noteworthy guests today. If you have traveled here from out of state, let me hear you. Out of the country? Quien esta aqui de afuera los estados unidos hoy?”

“Tonight I’m going to be sharing a lot of stories about Karla & Brandon with you. To get rolling, lets tackle the first & I love you.& About 8 months after they had started dating, Karla & Brandon were chilling in his kitchen. There may have been a bottle of wine involved. Brandon suddenly said those three little words…Karla was overjoyed & she said them back.”

“Buenas tardes! Bienvenidos a la recepción de la boda de Daniela y Brandon! Yo soy la Maestra de Ceremonias, DJ Staci. Por favor tomen asiento para darle la bienvenida oficialmente a nuestros invitados de honor.”

“Ladies & gentlemen, put your hands together for the introduction of the wedding party!!!”

Grand Entrance

1. Mighty Wings – Cheap Trick ➔ “Brandon met him in 2010 while playing ice hockey and, to this day, this groomsman still can & handle a puck to save his life. Karla met this bridesmaid when they both attended SDSU…and Karla still can & decide whether she is more beautiful on the inside or the outside. Give it up for Groomsman/Padrino Will & Bridesmaid/Dama Gaby!!!”

2. Danger Zone – Kenny Loggins ➔ “Brandon met this groomsman at Navy boot camp in 2013. He is known on the golf course as & Shank-Opotamus & and has yet to beat Brandon in a single round. Karla met this bridesmaid during their first year of high school. They were later roommates in college. Aztecs for life! She would still be in California if Joe had not stolen her away! Show some love to Groomsman/Padrino Alex & Bridesmaid/Dama Laura!!!”

3. Walking on sunshine – Katrina & The Waves ➔ “This groomsman met Brandon during his first year in the Navy. They were roommates together for two years in Washington D.C. Brandon has never beaten him on the golf course. Several years ago, this bridesmaid was looking for a roommate on Craigslist–yep–and found her soul twin, Karla. Please welcome Groomsman/Padrino Zach & Bridesmaid/Dama Ny-Vee!!!”

4. Uptown Funk – Bruno Mars ➔ “Brandon met him many years ago while playing ice hockey. We”ll see if he can dance tonight, considering he shattered his what bone 4 months ago. Karla is proudly related to the next bridesmaid. She is a total bad ass, a world traveler, a star dancer and she just got accepted into Georgetown University for a Masters in Nursing! Brace yourself Washington, D.C.! Give it up for Groomsman/Padrino Branden & Bridesmaid/Dama Melissa!!!”

5. Shut up and Dance – Walk the Moon ➔ “He the groom go back 26 years and share the same parents—oh snap! Brandon taught him how to skate, golf, and be awesome. Karla and this bridesmaid have been friends since high school. She has a country soul with a city girl drive. From LA to New York to Michigan, their friendship will be strong no matter where they go. Show some love to Groomsman/Padrino Ryan and Bridesmaid/Dama Bianca!!!”

6. Macarena – Bayside Boys Remix ➔ “Brandon met the Best Man his first year of hockey. Initially, he didn & like Brandon, in fact, he probably still doesn & but all it took was a case of bud light to get him to be the Best Man today. Karla and the Maid of Honor share the same dad, but they became true sisters in 2013. They are forever opposites but forever inseparable. Please welcome Best Man/Padrino Tory & Maid of Honor/Dama de Honor Dulce!!!”

➔ Best day of my life – American Authors ➔ “They met in February of 2016. Together they enjoy drinking wine & spoiling their fur baby, Odin. She puts up with his golf & hockey. He puts up with her inability to sit still and never ending trips. She’s confident that Brandon will one day be bilingual. For their honeymoon, they are planning a cruise around Europe. Ladies & gentlemen, damas y caballeros, get on your feet, ponganse de pie, to welcome, por la primera vez—for the FIRST TIME EVER—Mr. and Mrs. S—-!!!”

➔ First Dance ➔ Come Kiss Me – Tryon ➔ fade early: at the 2:40 ➔ On July 8, 2017, Brandon & Karla were at a winery in Traverse City, overlooking Lake Michigan. They were spending a lovely day at the winery, and Brandon had mentioned that he had a gift for her but had forgotten it. Later that afternoon, Brandon asked a waiter to snap a photo of them. As they were posing for the photo, Brandon said, & Remember I had a gift for you? & and he pulled a ring box out of his pocket. The waiter snapped the pic as Brandon asked her a very important question. I think we know how she answered because we are about to Mr. and Mrs. S—– to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Y ahora recibamos al Senor y la Senora S—- en la pista para su primer baile como marido y mujer.”

➔ Newlywed Brief Welcome/Thank You Speech ➔ “And now a few words from the bride & groom. Y ahora algunas palabras de los novios.”

➔ Dinner Blessing ➔ “Now lets & welcome the mother of the bride, Maricela, who will give a dinner blessing. Y ahora la mama de la novia, Maricela, va a dar un bendicion sobre la cena.” 7:30 pm

7:45 / 8:00 +/- PM ➔ Shoe Game ➔ “Ladies & gentlemen, I hope you are enjoying your meals. Right now, Brandon & Karla are going to play a sort of Newlywed Game…they will sit back-to-back on the dance floor, each holding one of their own shoes & one of the other person & shoes. I will ask them some questions, like & Who is taller? & and they would both presumably hold up Brandon’s shoe.”

“Brandon y Daniela van a jugar un juego para los recién casados. Cada uno va a tener un zapato suyo y el otro un zapato del otro. Voy a prejuntarles cosas como,& Quién es más alto & y los dos levantar el zapato de Brandon…porque el es mas alto.”

“Ready? Listos?”

Who has the craziest family? Quien tiene la familia mas loca?

Who is the biggest baby when they get sick? Quien es un llorona cuando se enferma?

Who loves Odin more? Quien quiere mas a Odin?

Who is most likely to eat their dessert first? Quien es mas probable a comer su postre primero? Who is the safest driver? Quien maneja lo mas seguro?

Who is most argumentative? A quien le gusta pelear mas?

Who apologizes first after an argument? Quien dice una disculpa primera despues un argumento?

Who is in charge of the remote control? Quien esta en cargado de el control por la television?

Who is a better dancer? Quien es el mejor bailador?

Quien probablemente no entiende esta prejunta?

Toasts ➔ champagne ➔ Ladies & gentlemen, I hope you are enjoying your meals. May I have your attention please for the toasts. Damas y caballeros, Me permiten su atención por favor para el brindis? Welcome our first speaker… Recibamos a nuestra primera oradora:”

➔ Maid of Honor, Dama de Honor, Dulce

➔ Best Man, Padrino, Tory

➔ Father-Daughter Dance ➔ “My Wish” Rascal Flatts ➔ fade early: yes ➔ “Now lets welcome Karla and her dad, Bernardo, to the dance floor. Y ahora recibamos a Daniela y su papa, Bernardo, a la pista para un baile especial.”

➔ Mother-Son Dance ➔ “Mother Like Mine,” The Band Perry ➔ fade early: yes ➔ “Brandon says: I could always talk to my mom about anything. She was always there to hear me, no matter what I had to say. She was the anchor of our family that, still to this day, holds everything together. I admire her love for family and that there is always a place in her home for a good laugh or an occasional cry. Now lets welcome Brandon & his mother, Melanie, to the dance floor to share a special dance. Y ahora recibamos a Brandon y su madre, Melanie, a la pista.”

➔ Group Photo on Dance Floor

➔ Open Dancing

9:30 +/- ➔ Garter Removal/Liga ➔ “Rico Suave,” Gerardo

➔ Garter Toss/Liga ➔ “Bad Boys Cops Theme; Inner Circle ➔ Braveheart Quote: yes

➔ Bouquet Toss/Rama ➔ “Labels or Love” Fergie

➔ Vibora de la Mar ➔ Al La Vibora de la Mar, Grupo I ➔ Now were going to do a Mexican wedding tradition, known in English as the Snake of the Sea. I need all the men in the room to line up on the dance floor. If this is your first time doing this, hold on to your hats because you in for a wild ride! Ahora la Vibora de la Mar!”

➔ Money Dance/Baile de Billete ➔ regular dance music, pass out the glowsticks ➔ & Please join us on the dance floor for the Money Dance. This is another Mexican wedding tradition where guests pay to dance with tonight’s guests of honor. Ahora el baile de billete con musica moderna.”

11:25 PM ➔ Last Dance

KARLA & BRANDON’S DANCE MUSIC RECIPE

Dance Music Rating ➔ PG-13 early on then some R/X-rated as it gets later

Priority During Dancing ➔ maximum dancing/use my expertise to read the crowd

50% English, 50% Spanish

Play A Lot – Top 40/Pop, 80s, 90s, 2000s, Hip Hop/RB, Electronic Dance Music Cumbias, Salsa

Play A Few – Oldies, 70s/Classic Rock, Motown/Funk, Slow Dances Banda, Merengue, Rock en Espanol, Zapateados, Nortenos, Bachata, Reggaeton, Corridos

♥ M U S T – P L A Y S ♥

Danza Kuduro Don Omar, Amor prohibido by Selena, La Flor by Selena, La Chona Los Tucanes, Caballo Dorado Line Dance, Cha Cha Slide Line Dance, Cupid Shuffle Line Dance, “1999” Prince, Shout- Isley Bros

♥ P L A Y I F Y O U C A N ♥

El Coco No Roberto Junior, Pasame La Botella By letra, Sonidito Banda MS, Vivir Mi Vida Marc Anthony, El Sinaloense Recodo, Mambo #5 Lou Vega, Despacito Justin Bieber version Sweet Caroline – Neil Diamond, Se Me Olvido Otra Vez By Mana, LaPuerta Negra Los Tigres, “La Cintura” Alvaro Soler, “Livin & la Vida Loca” Ricky Martin, “I Like It” Enrique Iglesias and Pitbull, “Party Rock Anthem” LMFAO, Suavemente Elvis Crespo, Inolvidable by Jenni Rivera, Si yo fuera lardon- el chapo slow dance, Ven Bailalo By Angel y Khriz

♥ D O N O T P L A Y S ♥

Rap, Big Band/Rat Pack, Trap, Tween/Childrens, heavy metal, rap, disco, country, kids/tween

BALI HAI (SOUTH PACIFIC ROOM) WEDDING FLOOR PLAN

SAN DIEGO WEDDING VENDOR LIST

Here is the amazing team of San Diego wedding vendors I had the pleasure of working with on this Bali Hai wedding (South Pacific Room):

Venue/Catering ➔ Bali Hai Restaurant

DJ/MC/Lighting ➔ DJ Staci, the Track Star

Band ➔ Francisco Astudillo from Tiku Records

Photographer/Videographer ➔ Jennie Edwards, Guided by Imagination

Cake Bakery ➔ Bride’s Mother

Florist ➔ DIY

Again, I was honored to be the one and only San Diego wedding DJ Karla & Brandon trusted with their Bali Hai restaurant wedding. Thank you!

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GIVE IT TO ME BABY

#bali hai wedding #bilingual san diego wedding dj #bilingual san diego weddings #english spanish bilingual weddings #female san diego wedding dj #Mission Bay Weddings #San Diego June Weddings #San Diego Restaurant Weddings #San Diego Waterfront Weddings #San Diego Weddings

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intimate-analysis-blog · 8 years ago

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Jackie, a portrait in pieces.

This story has already been told a thousand times, including parts of it being televised, with live broadcast. There is nothing new in its events. We all know of its outcome - JFK was brutally killed with a bullet in the head. A US president was therefore murdered. We are tired of seeing the images of this fact. The Kennedy family has become an icon.

What is important in the narrative of this film, therefore, is not what, but how. We start the movie with the image of Jacqueline Kennedy, a recently widow, downcast, walking down the beach. Then she receives in her mansion a journalist who will do a report on her and her husband a week after the murder. This will be the thread of history. The ex-first lady's report to this journalist will serve to unite the fragments. We have seen this format before. Someone tells a story to someone else and from that on, we, viewers are taken to the characters, their conflicts, and the drama takes place. Most of the time, however, this happens in a linear way. In "Jackie," screenwriter Noah Oppenheim takes care of shattering the story into several fragments, such as a broken mirror, or a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces are putted together at random, with not a well-defined beginning, middle, or end. The end, incidentally, is before the beginning and appears again at the end, because what we see as climax is the image of JFK being shot and his wife, desperate, trying to collect the loose pieces of his brain. There is nothing we have not seen at other times on television in this particular scene, but nonetheless it impacts and thrills again. The desperation of the first lady moves. And throughout the entire film we see her still trying to collect those loose pieces of her story with John F. Kennedy, or rather the murder until the final burial. This is perhaps the shrewdest choice of the whole film, because instead of trying to tell a whole biography of the first lady, it focuses only on a brief moment of her life, but that was certainly eternal in her memories while she was alive.

The plot, therefore, comes and goes, as an emotional tangle driven by this downcast, angry and depressed first lady. However, she is still strong enough to realize the importance of this moment in history, and more important than what happened, is to know how to relate it in the most effective way possible so it’ll remain in the imaginary of people over the years. Jackie is thus concerned about the legacy she will leave, not straining for it, being able at any moment to intervene in how her husband's funeral and burial will take place, never avoiding the cameras. Even when she is still in her iconic pink dress stained with blood, she descends through the front door of the plane that drives her. She also intervenes in what tells the journalist, making it clear from the beginning that this interview will be edited by her, and she continually remembers it, telling him that, after saying something controversial, he will not be able to write about it, or when he insinuates to make it public that she smokes, she corrects him, with a drag, "I do not smoke".

Everything is controlled by this powerful woman, but at the same time she is constantly questioned by men who surround her. They do not consider her capable of making the best choices at that moment. Her voice is always intermediated by another man, whether the journalist, her brother-in-law, a priest, or even, why not the voice of the director of the film, Pablo Larraín, and the screenwriter himself. It is the story of a woman told by men. The issue of gender thus becomes important, being crucial at all times, but this power is never given to the first lady in its entirety. After all, she must play the role of a beautiful quiet woman, a housewife. This is not what we see in Natalie Portman's Jackie, who, although beautiful, does smoke, and yes screams when necessary to assert her voice, running after what she thinks is best for her, for her family, for the imaginary of her husband, and for the whole American Nation. So, not so quiet and housewife. But she constantly finds herself trapped in this image that she has to preserve, trapped in her bedroom, choosing the clothes she will wear, changing herself over and over, unable to decide on the dress, distressed, smoking, drinking and listening to "Camelot," this song that marked her widowhood and quoted by her later to the Life magazine's journalist, "Do not let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment, that was known as Camelot." Thus, her story would be like a fairy tale, but with a princess who tragically loses her prince. There is no happy ending in her story. But it is a fairy tale always highlighted by the historical fact, by the power historiographic narrative has and by its legendary aspect. Her protagonist has nothing to lose, as her most important thing in the world has already being lost. So the best she can do is to collect the shards of that broken picture, putting together the best pieces in an impressive emotional journey.

This emotion is duly highlighted by the strong performance of Natalie Portman who studied the minutiae of her character, her mannerisms, her accent. All of that impress by the similarity at the same time that causes a certain strangeness by the artificiality, since it is an accent built not by the actress, but by Jacqueline herself. Back in the day, there was a concern of high-society women to speak just like that, almost blending American English with British, and in Jackie's case in particular with that from Long Island. There is certainly a meticulous research work done by the actress, but that is precisely what may prove to be a defect, since over too much and too preoccupied on the surface of the character. It goes from the outside to the inside, instead of doing the opposite movement, and for this reason the performance may present a stereotyped tone in a way. Despite all this, one must recognize Natalie's effort that knows very well how to thrill the unskilled spectator. After all, she's a celebrity just like the first lady was and there are times when this separation from outside and inside is diluted, and the inner emotional life of the character proves stronger, likes when she has to tell her kids their dad is gone. Maybe Natalie Portman just makes the same mistake that Jacqueline Kennedy committed in her life – that of worrying way too much about appearances. To appear as the first lady would be more important than to be.

Another factor that stress this emotive aspect is the soundtrack composed by Mica Levi, newcomer but already known for her work in "Under the Skin." Unlike her previous work, full silence and minimalism, Mica here becomes grandiloquent, resorting to various musical nuances to build an emotion capable of impacting the viewer. However, once again, this will be her biggest fault. The greatness of her chords ends up suffocating the emotion way beyond, making it overflow into an exquisite and artistic melodrama. Subtlety and silence are missing to the film that, when not loaded with dialogues, is filled by this eloquent music. So, maybe this is not Mica's fault, but the director himself, Pablo Larraín, who did not know how to measure those moments. At the same time, it is doubtful whether the troubled mind of a widow would be quiet enough, as she is a woman who has just seen her husband being murdered and has to immediately recompose herself to make the right decisions on how to proceed. Was there room for silence and subtlety in Jackie’s real story? So let's say no and thus respect the choice of the director as accurate, even though that excess of sound does not stop suffocating at the same time that it enchants us with the lyricism of this well-constructed emotional daydream. by Daniel Martins

Jackie, um retrato em pedaços.

Essa história já foi contada milhares de vezes, inclusive partes dela chegou a ser televisionada, com direito à transmissão ao vivo. Não há nada de novo em seus acontecimentos. Todos sabemos de seus desdobramentos – JFK foi brutalmente morto com um tiro na cabeça. Um presidente dos EUA fora, portanto, assassinado. Cansamos de ver as imagens desse fato. A família Kennedy se transformou em um ícone.

O que importante na narrativa desse filme, portanto, não é o que, mas como. Começamos o filme com a imagem de Jacqueline Kennedy recém viúva, abatida, caminhando pela praia. Em seguida, ela recebe em sua mansão um jornalista que irá fazer uma reportagem sobre ela e seu marido após uma semana do assassinato. Esse será o fio condutor da história. O relato da ex-primeira dama a esse jornalista é que servirá para unir os fragmentos. Já vimos esse formato outras vezes. Alguém conta uma história para outra pessoa e, a partir disso, nós, espectadores somos levado aos personagens, seus conflitos, vemos a narrativa se transformar. Na maioria das vezes, entretanto, isso se dá de maneira linear. Em “Jackie”, o roteirista Noah Oppenheim se encarrega de despedaçar o relato em vários fragmentos, como um espelho partido, ou um quebra-cabeça cujas peças pouco a pouco são montadas, aleatoriamente, sem começo, meio ou fim bem delineados. O fim, aliás, é anterior ao começo e aparece novamente no final, pois o que vemos como clímax é a imagem de JFK sendo baleado e sua esposa, desesperada, tentando recolher os pedaços soltos de seu cérebro. Não há nada que não vimos em outros momentos pela televisão nessa cena, mas mesmo assim ela chega a impactar e a emocionar novamente. O desespero da primeira dama comove. E ao longo de todo o filme a vemos ainda tentar recolher esses pedaços soltos de sua história com John F. Kennedy, ou mais bem o seu assassinato e até o seu enterro final. Está aí talvez a escolha mais sagaz de todo o filme, pois ao invés de buscar contar toda uma biografia da primeira dama, concentra-se apenas num breve momento de sua vida, mas que com certeza foi eterno em suas lembranças enquanto esteve viva.

A trama, portanto, vai e vem, com em um emaranhado emocional conduzido por essa primeira dama, abatida, com raiva e deprimida. Porém, ela ainda é forte o suficiente para perceber a importância desse momento para a história, e que mais importante do que aquilo que aconteceu, é saber relatá-lo da maneira mais eficaz possível para que permaneça no imaginário do povo ao longo dos anos. Jackie está, assim, preocupada com o legado que vai deixar, não medindo esforços para isso, sendo capaz de a todo momento intervir em como se dará o funeral e o enterro de seu esposo, nunca evitando as câmeras. Mesmo quando ainda está com seu vestido rosa emblemático manchado de sangue, ela desce pela porta da frente do avião que a conduz. Ela também intervém naquilo que conta ao jornalista, deixando-lhe claro desde o inicio que aquela entrevista será editada por ela, e continuamente ela o lembra disso, dizendo-lhe que, ao acabar de dizer algo polemico, ele não poderá escrever sobre aquilo ou ainda que, quando ele insinua colocar que ela fumava, ela o corrigi, dando uma tragada, “eu não fumo”.

Tudo é controlado por essa mulher, poderosa, e a frente de seu tempo, mas que ao mesmo tempo é constantemente questionada pelos homens que a cercam, pois não a consideram capaz de fazer as melhores escolhas naquele momento. Sua voz, assim, é sempre intermediada por outro homem, seja o jornalista, seja o seu cunhado, um padre, ou até mesmo, porque não a voz do diretor do filme, Pablo Larraín e o seu roteirista. Trata-se da história de uma mulher contada por homens. A questão de gênero assim se faz importante, sendo crucial em todo o momento, mas esse poder jamais é entregue à primeira dama em sua totalidade. Afinal, caberia a ela o papel de mulher bela, recatada e do lar. Não é isso o que vemos totalmente na Jackie de Natalie Portman, que, apesar de bela, sim fuma, sim grita quando necessário para fazer valer a sua voz, correndo atrás daquilo que acha ser o melhor para ela, para a sua família, para o imaginário de seu marido, e para toda a nação estadunidense. Portanto, nem tão recatada e do lar assim. Mas sim constantemente ela se vê presa nos limites dessa imagem que tem que preservar, presa em seu quarto, escolhendo a roupa que vai usar, trocando-se várias e várias vezes, incapaz de se decidir pelo vestido, angustiada, fumando, bebendo e escutando “Camelot”, essa canção que marcou sua viuvez e citada por ela posteriormente ao jornalista da revista Life, "Don't let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment, that was known as Camelot" [Não deixe ser esquecido que era uma vez um lugar, por um breve iluminado momento, conhecido como Camelot]. Assim, sua história seria tal como um conto de fadas, porém com uma princesa que, de maneira trágica, perde o seu príncipe. Não há final feliz em sua história. Mas se trata de um conto de fadas em que sempre está marcado pelo fato histórico, pelo poder que a narrativa historiográfica possui e pelo seu caráter lendário. Sua protagonista não tem nada a perder, pois o mais importante ela já o perdeu. Então o melhor que pode fazer é recolher os cacos desse retrato quebrado, e juntar os melhores pedaços em um recorrido emocional impactante.

Essa emoção é devidamente marcada pela forte atuação de Natalie Portman que estudou as minúcias de sua personagem, seus trejeitos, sua maneira de falar. A sua fala chega a impressionar pela semelhança ao mesmo tempo em que causa certo estranhamento pela maneira artificial que é dita, já que se trata de um sotaque construído não pela atriz, mas sim pela própria Jacqueline. Em seu tempo, havia uma preocupação das mulheres da alta sociedade em falar dessa maneira, quase que misturando o inglês americano com o britânico e, no caso de Jackie em particular, com o de Long Island ainda. Há com certeza um trabalho minucioso de pesquisa feito pela atriz, mas que é justamente aquilo que talvez se revele como um defeito, já que excessivo e preocupado demasiado na superfície da personagem. Ela parte de fora para dentro, ao invés de fazer o movimento contrário e, por isso mesmo, a sua representação pode estar marcada por um tom de certo modo estereotipado. Apesar disso tudo, há que se reconhecer o esforço de Natalie que sabe muito bem emocionar o espectador não especializado. Afinal, ela é uma celebridade tal como a primeira-dama o foi e há momentos em que essa separação de fora e dentro se dilui, e a vida emocional interior da personagem se demonstra mais forte. Talvez Natalie Portman apenas cometa o mesmo erro que Jacqueline Kennedy cometeu em vida – a de se preocupar demais com as aparências. Parecer-se com a primeira dama seria mais importante do que a ser de fato.

Outro fator que marca o caráter emotivo diz respeito à trilha sonora composta por Mica Levi, compositora novata, mas já conhecida por seu trabalho em “Sob a pele (Under the Skin)”. Ao contrário do trabalho anterior, marcado pelo silencio e o minimalismo, Mica aqui se torna grandiloqüente, recorrendo-se a várias nuances musicais para construir uma emoção capaz de impactar o espectador. Entretanto, mais uma vez, essa será a sua grande falha. A grandeza de seus acordes acaba por sufocar a emoção além da conta, fazendo-a transbordar em um melodrama requintado e artístico. Falta sutileza e silencio ao filme que, quando não está carregado de diálogos, está preenchido por essa música eloqüente. Assim, talvez isso não seja uma falha de Mica, mas sim do próprio diretor, Pablo Larraín, quem não soube dosar esses momentos. Ao mesmo tempo, fica a dúvida se não seria justamente assim a mente conturbada de uma viúva que acaba de ver seu marido ser assassinado e tem que, imediatamente, se recompor para tomar decisões corretas em como proceder. Haveria espaço para o silêncio e para a sutileza assim? Vamos dizer que não e, desse modo, respeitar a escolha do diretor como acertada, mas que não deixa de asfixiar ao mesmo tempo em que nos encanta com o lirismo desse devaneio emocional bem construído. por Daniel Martins

#jackie #natalie portman #pablo larraín #kennedy #jfk #mica levi #oscar #oscar race

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radioactivepeasant · 1 year ago

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When they ended up going back to the future, Damas had already been slowly acclimating Jak to dark eco to protect him, just in case they got separated when they landed in Haven.

As a result, Errol is about to have a really bad time.

Doodles for my Jak and Daxter au (I should probably give it some kind of name I guess)

Daxter and the "twins", Jak and Mar. Both follow Daxter around like his shadow, but Mar is a little more cautious about their shenanigans than Jak is.

Bonus under the cut

[[MORE]]

Samos and Damas have very different opinions on how to raise the Heir(s) of Mar.

Damas's opinion is that Samos doesn't get an opinion.

PTA meetings in Sandover are tense.

#Jak and Daxter #jak and daxter tpl #jak and daxter mar #king damas #dadmas #damas lives #beach dad damas #jak and daxter au #my art #Damas has three boys now and WILL steal Keira if he thinks Samos isn't treating her right #they try to aggressively out-dad each other in eco training #beach dad au #jak and mar raised as twins au #yes i used waterbending and firebending for their poses #also if you look closely they're forming the seal of Mar with their respective eco

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radioactivepeasant · 3 years ago

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Beach Dad au, digital version

These kids have some thrill issues, Daxter only probably excluded. Somebody should probably warn Damas to get the green eco ready.

#jak and daxter #beach dad au #beach dad damas #jak and daxter au #jak and daxter mar #keira hagai #Mar and Keira enable each other as bad as Jak and Daxter except minus Dax's self preservation instinct #my art #digital drawing #king damas #dadmas

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radioactivepeasant · 3 years ago

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Beach Dad au (@sonicringnoise the tag made me laugh and now thats the only title I can think of for this conglomeration of text and art)

How to tell Mar and Jak apart: reversed outfit colors and completely different hair

I'm with Daxter on this one. If you're going to test a zoomer over lava, at least have adult supervision on hand with green eco

#Jak and Daxter #Jak and Daxter au #beach dad damas #beach dad au #keira hagai #daxter #jak and daxter mar #baby jak #yes Daxter refers to Damas as Dadmas #my art #colored pencils #the Sandover kids spend their puberty trading off who has custody of their shared braincell #so so much green eco necessary after their daily Adventures

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radioactivepeasant · 3 years ago

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Damas Lives fic Part 6

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Jak stared at this second self for a heartbeat or two, then managed to take a breath.

"...Mar?"

Mar leaned back on his heels and pushed him. "Jerk! Way to give me a heart attack!"

He stood up with a grunt and dusted off his faded blue trousers. "Dax told me you were heading up, and then...poof. No Jak! You're supposed to tell us when you're having a Moment, idiot!"

Jak pulled himself up on shaky legs. "I'd like to see you walk away unscathed after changing your own timeline," he grumbled under his breath.

If Mar heard that, he didn't indicate it. He rubbed his face, and Jak noticed the same dark circles under his eyes that surely decorated his own.

"Hey, uh, when did you last sleep?" Jak asked awkwardly.

Mar shrugged. "Don't know. Whenever Loghead was here last I guess."

His shoulders sagged. "Look, don't say it. I know, okay? I just...I don't want to sleep right now. Not until I know he's pulled through."

He?

Please, please please-

The words bumped clumsily against his teeth three times before Jak managed to let them out.

"H- how is he?"

Mar beckoned him to follow and picked his way through Damas's throne room to the infirmary down the hall. "On the outside? No change. On the inside? Who knows. Seem said the healing sleep will take time."

Jak knew the set of Mar's shoulders too well. The barely concealed trembling in his fingertips. He was worried, and impatient, and underneath it all he was scared.

"Waiting is the worst part."

Mar scoffed. "No, seeing Father when you pulled the Slam Dozer off him, that was the worst part. This is just. Irritating."

Curtains stitched to welded frames divided the beds in the infirmary, granting a modicum of privacy. There were a few monks in the other beds, and several Spargans who had taken part in the final battle. But the bed closest to the door seemed to eclipse all the others.

King Damas looked strangely peaceful in sleep. The harsh lines softened, and the muscles relaxed. There was a thick rope of old scar tissue down one side of his chest that Jak didn't remember, and his torso was wrapped in bandages. He was definitely older than the last time Jak saw him. But he was there, and he was breathing.

He's here. He's really here.

Jak had the presence of mind to sit down on the edge of the cot before his legs gave out again. He fumbled to grab one of Damas's hands, marveling at how warm it was.

Mar watched him in silence for several minutes, but there was something unmistakably shrewd in his gaze. He took a seat on the other side of the bed and laced his fingers through Damas's free hand. He watched their father's chest rise and fall evenly, counting the seconds between breaths. Then he looked up.

"You went with the Precursors after all, didn't you?" He sounded both resigned and almost accusatory.

Startled, Jak looked up. "How did-?"

His newfound "twin" gave him a look Jak knew he'd gotten from Damas. "Seriously? It's still my turn with the Armor of Mar and I know for a fact that it's still in my foot locker. Way to cheat, snagging it from another loop."

They had been taking turns with the armor? That sounded annoying. Jak hoped they didn't have to take turns with weapons, too. He didn't like sharing his morph gun.

"Besides." Mar's annoyance faded just a little. "You're looking at Father like...like you thought you'd never see him again."

Had he been that obvious? Or did Mar simply know how to read him as easily as Daxter did?

"I, uh...sorry." Jak found that he couldn't quite meet Mar's eyes.

"You're sorry." Mar scowled. "You ditched us and ran off without backup again. I don't even know how long you were actually gone! Poking around in older time loops just gets us hurt, Jak. You know that."

"Not this time," Jak said softly. "This time, Dam- F- Father lives."

His twin's eyes widened. Then his brows fell again. "No wonder you look like that."

After a short, tense, silence, he added, "You still should've taken backup, though."

An uncomfortable prickle of guilt squirmed in Jak's stomach unexpectedly. "Well," he hedged, "You were here. And Dax is...occupied."

Mar pulled back and made a face. "Do I wanna know?"

"The Precursors turned Tess into an Ottsel."

Mar cackled, then slapped a hand over his mouth. He looked around quickly to see if he'd woken anyone, then lowered his hand.

"Are you serious? She finally pulled it off?"

Jak cracked a smile at last. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the "Precursors" are the same as Dax and just stole Precursor ships, because I haven't seen them grant any wishes that didn't involve Ottsels and Ottsel accessories."

"I bet Loghead lost his little green mind."

"Oh, big time."

Feeling a surprising lack of self-consciousness, Jak pried his boots off and laid down along the edge of the cot. There was a vague awareness in the back of his mind that he shouldn't have been comfortable doing this, that he didn't trust anyone but Dax to be that close when he slept. But that sense was steadily fading beneath an image in his mind he couldn't shake of sleeping in a pile on Sandover Beach. Himself, Daxter, Keira and Mar all curled around a watchful Damas and trying in vain to stay awake. He yawned and dragged his fingers down his face.

Mar snorted, but followed suit.

"I think we're too big for this," he whispered.

"Shut up." Jak draped his arm over his eyes, but didn't quite hide his grin. "Sig says you need to sleep anyway."

"Well Sig's a snitch," Mar mumbled rebelliously, but closed his eyes nonetheless.

When Damas awoke, in the middle of the night, he found himself trapped in the cot. Mar was pressed up against his right side, Jak against his left, and he could feel Daxter's fur against his head. The combined body heat of all three boys was not the most comfortable thing to awaken to, not that he was coherent enough to really consider that. But, he reflected drowsily, there were worse things than waking from a near death experience surrounded by his sons.

He couldn't move his limbs yet, but he could feel hands clutching his own. Just tightening his fingers felt like a monumental effort, but it was enough.

"I told you," he whispered, to one or to all of them, he wasn't sure. "I told you I would be here when you came home."

#jak and daxter #jak and daxter au #jak and daxter mar #jak 3 #beach dad damas #damas lives #king damas #mentioned daxter/tess #daxter is 100% an adopted member of the house of mar #Mar's personality is a fusion of Daxter and Damas and it expresses itself in eccentric ways #Jak gets a happy ending after all #my aus #jak and daxter fic #beach dad au #twin heirs au

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radioactivepeasant · 3 years ago

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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Continuing my Jak and Daxter au with a lil Angst because Jak needs a hug. And therapy. As do most of the inhabitants of the in-game universe)

Damas was staring again.

Jak could feel his gaze like a laser sight, homing in on the back of his head in a way that set his teeth on edge. He had always hated being stared at as a child, but after the Baron's experiments, it had become almost unbearable. Part of Jak wanted to be seen, truly seen, by his father. The rest of him couldn't bear for the man to look at him. There was so much blood on his hands, so much dark eco tainting his blood. He wasn't Damas's innocent little baby anymore. He was just...just Jak.

Jak tried to let some of the tension out of his shoulders. He'd have given anything for Daxter to be there; Dax would know what to say to break the ice. But Daxter was still standing on that platform years away, thinking he was saying goodbye to his friend.

After checking the coordinates one more time, Jak finally made himself turn to face his father. "You, um...you should get some sleep," he said gruffly, "It's going to be a long flight."

There was a softness in the Spargan king's face that Jak had only seen a few times. And it hurt to see it, to know this was the last time he would have the chance in this circle of time. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just be happy to have this moment with a father who accepted his grown son's identity? Surely this was a better final memory of Damas than holding his battered body as he choked out his final words.

Why couldn't he just be happy?!

Damas rose from the bench where little Mar slept, wrapped in a sheet stolen from someone's laundry line. He stepped into the cockpit area and took the co-pilot seat with a soft grunt. The utilitarian seat hadn't been made for comfort, but he eased back as though it were as familiar as his throne.

"Why don't you rest?" he offered. "I can keep us on course."

Jak shook his head. "I'm fine."

Damas didn't look convinced. "You've been fighting hard, Mar."

"I've fought harder."

Stubborn as any Spargan.

Damas frowned. "The best warriors know to take care of their bodies-"

"-as they would their best rifle, I know," Jak groaned, "You had a good time drilling that one into my skull."

That took Damas by surprise. "I thought you said you didn't grow up knowing me?"

Jak flinched and looked away. "I didn't."

The king leaned forward slowly. This older Mar was skittish, in some ways. Like a kicked crocodog. Damas couldn't shake the feeling that if he moved too quickly, his boy would bolt. Slow and steady, he reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Mar?"

Jak wouldn't look at him.

Spargans didn't cry.

Spargans didn't cry!

"I met you for the first time ten months ago," he finally croaked. "We...we had both...changed too much to recognize each other. I went by a different name, and you thought I'd be younger-" he cut himself off short. This wasn't something he felt ready to talk about.

"What name?"

Jak briefly glanced up, then away. "What?"

Damas squeezed his shoulder. "What name were you accustomed to?" he asked patiently, never pushing.

That, that he could talk about. That topic was safe.

"I was raised as Jak," he answered. "Oh, and when you and Junior back there get to Sandover, the version of me you're going to find there will also go by Jak. He -- I -- couldn't find anyone who understood Spargan Sign, so he let his very first friend pick a name for him. It's not Mar, but...it's important to him. To me."

"Jak..." Damas tried the name out. He tilted his head in thought, then nodded. "May I call you Jak then, if it is important? When I find this other you-" he broke off with a dry chuckle. "The monks once chastised me for dragging my feet about producing an heir. What would they think now, knowing I have many?"

The thought made Jak's brain hurt. Was the Jak of each time loop a separate person with separate experiences? Or were some the same Jak? He was pretty sure the one currently in Sandover was connected to his current loop. Did that mean that he might cease to exist soon? Or that he would change?

"M- Jak," Damas broke into his thoughts, sounding more solemn than before. "When you go back to your time...will I be there?"

The way Jak's teeth clenched, hard enough to grind against each other, told Damas more than he wanted to know. But morbid curiosity, as well as some undefined sense of guilt he couldn't shake, pressed him to keep asking.

"Did I have the chance to redeem myself before the end?"

Jak's head whipped up, and he stared at Damas in blank shock. "Redeem yourself?" he sputtered, "For what?"

"For not..." Damas made a frustrated gesture with his free hand. "Not being there. To protect you. For not recognizing you when you found your way home."

Jak reached out, vaguely aware that his hand was trembling when he placed it on the king's arm. "It was my fault-!" he blurted out.

Damas raised a brow -- like he always did - used to do - when Jak boasted -- and remarked, "Somehow I doubt that."

The dam burst. Afterwards, Jak would never be able to remember when, exactly, he'd started crying. Only that he couldn't stop.

"I tried to fight my way into Haven City without- without backup. Just me and Daxter. And you- you had to come save our sorry hides and-! There was a missile- I should've been driving! I could've healed myself, the vents weren't that far, I- it should have been m-"

He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence before he was pulled out of the chair and into a crushing hug.

"You are not to blame." Damas tightened his arms around Jak and sighed. "If I managed to keep you safe, then I did what any father should do."

"You didn't know-!" Jak hiccupped into his shoulder. "I didn't get to tell you I was- was me!"

Like it would've made it any less tragic if he had. It wasn't fair.

"Steady, son. It's in the past now. I'm here."

Damas glanced to the side, and through watery eyes saw little Mar peeking out from under the sheet. The child looked concerned. Damas smiled reassuringly at him.

"See Mar?" he called softly, "You can be all grown up, and a matchless warrior, but you'll never be too old for a hug from your father. Take my word for it."

He turned his eyes back to Jak and cleared his throat. "I swear to the Precursors that I will not let you see me die that way. You twisted fate this far, I'll take it the rest of the way."

Pulling back so that he could look Jak in the eye, he vowed, "I will find you, with Mar. And I don't know what will happen in our future, but I will be waiting when you come home, if I have to hold the Precursors themselves hostage to get there."

Jak swiped his arm roughly across his eyes and grinned. He had some of his old fierceness back now. "You're starting to sound like me," he said with a hoarse chuckle.

"Must be a House of Mar thing," Damas smirked.

He wasn't holding out hope that his life would be altered by this. The other loops had played out the same, again and again, once the Dark Makers came into play. But knowing Damas would have wanted to come back helped. Maybe this was closure, in a way.

Jak blinked suddenly. "Mar! Oh shoot, uh....okay, Damas-"

The king gave him a look, and Jak awkwardly amended, "er...Father -- Precursors, I'm not used to that -- um...there's no easy way to put this. You're probably going to meet a guy in one of the villages that I'm 80% sure is the original Mar. And he's not exactly up to Spargan standards, put it that way. But don't be too hard on him, he just needs to get out of the town."

For just a moment, Jak could have sworn Damas's eye twitched.

#jak and daxter #free day thursday #writing prompts #fic prompts #beach dad damas au #jak and daxter au #Jak and Daxter Mar #Jak and Daxter Damas #King Damas #dadmas #jak 3 #look Jak has been through the wringer and he needs a decent dad hug #psst Jak thinks this will be the last time he personally sees Damas but its noooot #beach dad Damas

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radioactivepeasant · 3 years ago

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Okay so apparently it's a whole fic now

(I had more Beach Dad Damas au that didn't fit in the post yesterday and it kept getting longer so. Long post, beware.)

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 (TBA)

It was easier than expected to get the Precursors to drop him off at the exact moment he'd left. Considering his previous experiences with time travel, Jak was pleasantly surprised. He ducked into the shadows and watched with a smirk as Daxter made his wish: a sturdy pair of pants.

Dax was no dummy. He knew con artists when he saw them, and he wasn't going to trust these fellow Ottsels to be true Precursors when the Dark Makers were so different.

"I wish I had a pair just like that!"

Jak winced. Poor Tess. There was literally no way to interpret that as "turn me into an Ottsel", but either the time travelers were sadistic -- a reasonable assumption given his entire life so far -- or they literally couldn't transform anything that wasn't somehow Ottsel related.

But instead of being astonished at her transformation, as Jak had remembered her being, Tess looked down at her paws and pumped her fist with a guttural "YES!"

"Haha!" She pointed at the so-called Precursors irreverently. "Suckers! No take-backs!"

Keira made a strange expression. "Well at least this means Sig doesn't have to physically restrain you from testing dark eco on yourself "for science and toe beans" anymore."

Tess raised a foot and waggled newly furry toes at the mechanic. "Jealous?"

That hadn't happened before. But...this was the timeline Jak had left, he could feel it. The eco in his veins was in harmony here, not as discordant as it had been in every other loop. Had he done this? Had he changed minor things in the future when he sent Damas and Mar to his past?

Jak waited until his other self had entered the Precursor vessel -- and the ringing in his ears had stopped -- before slipping up behind Daxter. Hopefully Dax wouldn't notice that he was wearing armor now -- who was he kidding, of course he'd notice.

At least this time loop was a closed one. He could go forward now without having to worry about quite so much. Maybe.

That was probably just wishful thinking on his part, what with the whole "Heir of Mar" business. No wonder Damas preferred a kingdom where your rank had absolutely nothing to do with the blood in your veins.

Jak pasted a smile on his face that looked passably real and greeted Daxter playfully. He made some quip to imply that he'd been messing around in the future, not the past. Of course, he was positive there would be more adventures in their future. But for now, for once, he didn't want to think about it. All he wanted to do was drag himself back to his room above the palm row in Spargus, collapse onto his cot, and sleep for a week. No tasks. No errands. No quests. Just the surprisingly comfortable pillow and blanket one of the merchants had given him in exchange for helping her fix the sun shade over her stall.

"You all good, big guy?" Daxter asked, quiet enough that nobody else could really hear them.

"I'm exhausted," Jak admitted. "And I'm ready to go home. What about you? Gonna hang here a little longer, or head down?"

Daxter made a big show of stretching. "Eehhh, I think I'll hang out here. No offense, but I've got prettier company to give the grand tour."

He leaned back so far that his head was upside down, looking back at Tess. "Word to the wise! Don't go near the leaper lizards until they've been fed! But don't sweat it, babe. I'll protect you!"

Jak snorted. "Yeah yeah, just steer clear of Kleiver." He squatted to let his friend hop down. "And if you're going to be home after midnight, at least be quiet about it."

The Ottsel rolled his eyes. "Okay, "Dad!" Yeesh!"

"You want me to give you a curfew while you're at it?" Jak threatened playfully.

"Yaah!" Daxter jumped back and pointed a skinny finger at him. "You can't give me a curfew! Pops said I'm too old for curfews, so there!"

"Pops"? Who was Daxter talking about? It couldn't have been Samos. He'd never tried to be a father figure to Daxter even once in his life.

"Alright, break it up, cherries." Sig stepped down from the arena dais and clapped Jak on the shoulder. "I'll be chaperone if you want to troll him that much. Go on back to the palace."

Jak blinked. The palace? How much had he changed?

As if he hadn't noticed Jak's confusion, Sig continued. "I know you're tired. But if you could take a shift sitting in the healing ward before hitting the sack, I know Mar would appreciate it."

The words rushed into Jak's mind with a sensation like ice crawling up his spine.

Mar.

Had...had his timeline merged with the one he'd altered?

Had Damas lived?

His mind felt muddy, as if there was something he'd forgotten. Memories shifting in his brain, altering themselves and yet retaining shadows of their original forms.

"How...how is he?" Jak croaked.

Sig shrugged eloquently. "How do you think? Too stubborn to sleep. Daxter at least got him to eat something before he collapsed, but you know how he is." Sig grimaced. "Chips off the old block, all three of you brats."

He squeezed Jak's shoulder affectionately. "Alright, get out of here. You look dead on your feet."

Jak bade a perfunctory farewell to the others and had to consciously redirect himself to the palace instead of the palm row. He stumbled into the lift and sagged against the wall wearily. It was bittersweet, being back in this place. But after Damas's death-

-the Slam Dozer flipping, rolling end over end-

Damas coughing, choking under the roll cage-

Slim brown hands yanking a flask of light eco from the cargo hatch of the car while Jak lifted it off of his -- their -- father's ribs-

"Stay with Father!"

Daxter pressing the morph gun into their brother's hands-

"We'll come back, I promise-"

Jak collapsed into the corner of the lift. A flood of emotions crashed over him with each new memory. Terror. Rage. Fear for Damas. Fear for Mar. A protective fondness for a brother he hadn't even had a week ago.

He had changed the timeline. It hadn't split into a new loop. How? How was that possible?

His head was throbbing with every new memory that forced its way out of the murk in his brain. Muscles burned as if he were being torn apart and reassembled. The dark eco inside him pushed hard at his mind, homing in on his turmoil. Jak had to fight to shove it down, but nonetheless felt the tips of claws digging into his scalp. A stinging pain lanced through his forehead, and he knew the horns would grow next.

"-k?"

At first he didn't register the voice. Not until light eco washed over him, not until the icy burn chased the shadows back down and soothed the cacophony in his mind.

"Jak, say something!"

It was his own voice, but...but not quite.

Softer. Definitely more of a Spargus accent than he'd ever had. Jak talked like he came from the Haven undercity, because that was who he had learned to talk from. Random citizens snatched off the street for the Dark Warrior program, taken from places where it was assumed they wouldn't be missed. None of them had ever lasted as long as Jak, but if there was one thing he could cling to, it was that he'd gotten his accent from them, and not from his tormentors.

"Jak, snap out of it!"

Someone shook him by the shoulders, and Jak finally opened his eyes. He quickly found himself experiencing the less-unique-than-it-used-to-be phenomenon of staring into his own face. Sort of.

Mar's eyes weren't as hard as his had become. They weren't exactly the same shade, either, come to think of it. Where Jak's eyes had lightened to an astonishing blue as a kid, Mar's were still an indigo closer to Damas's eyes.

The hair was different, too. Mar wasn't wearing a scarf to keep the sand out -- idiot, Jak couldn't help thinking, with the vague sense that Mar did this often -- and his hair had been pulled into neat twists, unlike the tangled mess Jak's hair had become after this latest incident.

Combing that wasn't going to be much fun. He knew he should've done something with it before the battle, but he'd never had the time to do it.

Jak stared at this second self for a heartbeat or two, then managed to take a breath.

"...Mar?"

#jak and daxter #jak and daxter au #jak 3 #daxter #jak and daxter mar #king damas #dadmas #damas lives #beach dad damas #beach dad au #jak and daxter sig #spargus #my aus #jak and daxter fic

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