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ailendolin · 3 years ago

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Whump Wednesday - 15 - Yonderland

Title: Ready [AO3]

Fandom: Yonderland

Characters: Mat's page & Chamberlain (named Billy & Charles here)

Prompt: The page seems unusually nervous before his audience with King Bernard. Chamberlain notices and decides to help. - Idea by me.

Warnings: reference to canon non-con (pages doing sexual favours for knights as implied several times in 1x04); very brief description of the beginning of a panic attack.

A/N: I've always wondered what happened to Mat's page after the tournament, so I came up with this little story in which he gets knighted by King Bernard and strikes up an unlikely friendship with Larry's chamberlain. I hope you enjoy this rather unsual combination of characters.

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday fics so far:

Comfort - Gabriel/Ian - “I brought you a blanket.”

Sharing - Vex/Ho-Tan “How long has it been since you slept?”

Cold Touch Part 1 - Thomas & Nigel - Nigel finds out Thomas's wound pains him.

Cold Touch Part 2 - Thomas & Nigel - Nigel finds a way to help Thomas.

Just you wait - Mike Peabody, Sam & Bob Hale - Mike is running himself into the ground and Sam and Bob find out why."

Constant - Gabriel & Bill - Bill and Gabriel talk out their feelings post kidnapping.

Tea - Ho-Tan & Voltari - Ho-Tan helps Voltari feel a little more at home after he and Dissectus seek asylum with the Elders.

Time - Kissing Cousins - After their second kiss, Jay reconsiders some things.

————

Ready

Charles’s eyes were firmly fixed on the tray in his hands. A bottle of medium-quality wine and two of the king’s most ornate goblets were currently precariously balanced on the meticulously polished silver as he carefully opened a door with his elbow. Knowing King Bernard, he would want to finish the knighting ceremony with a toast to his first knight, and the last thing Charles’s aching bones needed was an impromptu sprint down the stairs to the cellar to fetch one of the many overpriced bottles the king kept there. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened – far from it. The last time it did, Charles had missed a step in his hurry and twisted his ankle so badly he’d hobbled around in pain for two weeks afterwards. He really wasn’t keen on repeating that.

So he’d gone to the cellar and retrieved the necessary items in advance, just in case, and was now on his way back to the page he’d left waiting in the antechamber – a young, scrawny lad; not much to look at, if anyone asked Charles. No one did, of course. His opinion did not matter in these halls so he held his tongue and trusted his king to know what he was doing.

He quietly snorted to himself. Yeah, right.

The goblets wobbled dangerously on the tray as he elbowed open another door. Charles breathed a silent sigh of relief when they remained standing and he could finally put down the tray on one of the many cabinets lining the wall. He shook out his wrist in an attempt to ease the pain in his joints. It seemed to linger a little longer with each passing day now. He was getting older, there was no denying it, and sometimes he wondered how much longer he would be able to perform his duties adequately.

An odd noise behind him pulled him out of his thoughts. Charles turned around to look at the page.

The young man – boy? Gods, he was so young – was still sitting where he’d left him earlier. His eyebrows were pinched together and he was staring at the table as if its ancient wood held all the answers of the universe. He was clasping his hands so tightly in his lap the knuckles had turned white, and his breathing was far too fast and heavy for someone who had done nothing but sitting still for the past fifteen minutes.

Charles knew the signs of beginning panic all too well and his heart went out to the page. It must be overwhelming, he thought, to go from being a knight’s personal servant to having an audience with a king – and all that in a matter of days. The young man’s life had been completely turned upside down since the tournament he’d miraculously won. No wonder he had looked so nervous earlier when he’d stood in front of the palace doors and Charles had invited him inside. He was entirely out of his depth here.

Charles glanced at the clock on the wall. They still had a few minutes left before King Bernard would call the page inside and the ceremony would begin. Probably more than that, given the king’s perchance to lose track of time during breakfast. Making a decision he knew he might regret later, Charles crossed the room and pulled out a chair next to the page. Normally, he wouldn’t get involved. Life as the king’s chamberlain was hard enough as it was without having to worry about other people’s problems. But the page was clearly struggling and Charles knew what that felt like, had experienced the same anxiety coursing through his own veins years ago when he had started working for the king – who had still been King Bernard’s father, back then. He’d made so many mistakes during his first few weeks on the job that he’d cried himself to sleep more often than he cared to remember, all the time desperately wishing he could go home, or that someone would come to him at least and tell him everything would be okay.

No one ever had but that didn’t mean history had to repeat itself today. He would not be like the old chamberlain and ignore suffering when he saw it. So making sure his voice was gentle and quiet, Charles turned to the page and asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

The page’s eyes snapped up to him, wide and terrified. “N-nothing, s-sir.”

Right.

“My name is Charles, lad,” Charles told him gently. “There’s no need to be so formal.”

“S-sorry, sir,” the page murmured and dropped his eyes back to the table.

This was proving to be more difficult than Charles had thought.

“Look,” he said, “it’s alright if you feel nervous about meeting the king. Perfectly normal, in fact. It’s not every day you get to meet a king, right? But I can assure you it’s not necessary. King Bernard’s a man just like any other.”

Impossibly, the page’s eyes widened further.

“But he’s a king!” he whispered, as if the title alone made Bernard special.

“Yeah,” Charles said drily, “and he still does his business like everyone else. Trust me, I know.” The page looked so scandalised that Charles decided to change tactics. “What’s your name, lad?”

“B-Billy,” the page – Billy – said.

Charles held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Billy.”

Billy’s hand felt clammy but his grip was surprisingly strong and firm for someone as skin and bones as him. Charles offered him a smile and then gently pushed the cup of water he had poured him earlier towards him. “Go on. You’ll feel better after you drank something.”

Billy reached for the cup with trembling hands and took several large gulps.

“Good lad,” Charles said quietly. “Now, do you have any questions before your audience with the king? Anything you want to know? His favourite drink, perhaps, or why he thought it would be a greatidea to have man-eating flowers in his garden – oh, or maybe you’re interested in the name of his teddy bear?”

A small, surprised chuckle escaped Billy at the last bit and Charles bit down on his smile. The stupid bear always worked. “The king has a teddy bear?”

Charles nodded very seriously. “Yes. Her name is Lily. The poor thing’s so old there’s not a single original thread left in her but he loves her anyway.”

More than his people, he thought sullenly to himself. Certainly more than me.

“I had a blanket like that once,” Billy offered, a little shyly. “My grandmother gave it to me, back when I was a boy. It was yellow and softer to the touch than any fabric I’ve ever seen.” His face fell and Charles had a feeling this story wasn’t going to end well. “Philipp of Woolworth used it as kindling for a campfire.”

Charles winced. He’d heard a lot about Philipp of Woolworth over the years and couldn’t say he was surprised by this. The man had had a reputation, and not a good one. It was a shame Billy had ended up as a page for him of all knights. He seemed like a good kid; a little shy and nervous, perhaps, but kind and honest and with his heart in the right place, as far as Charles could tell. He didn’t deserve to be subjected to the whims of the likes of Philipp of Woolworth.

“For what it’s worth, I can promise you something like that won’t happen to you here,” he said. Then, trying to lighten the mood a little, he added in a conspiratorial whisper, “The king has no idea how to make a fire.”

Instead of drawing out another chuckle like he’d hoped the words only seemed to deepen the frown on Billy’s face. He glanced at the door on the other side of the room, the one behind which King Bernard was currently eating his breakfast, and bit his lip. “What … what exactly will happen to me?”

Charles stared at him, at first not comprehending what Billy meant. What sort of rumours had the lad heard that made him look like a rabbit caught in a snare? Sure, King Bernard was not the most popular king in all the realms but as far as Charles was aware he wasn’t known to be cruel or even particularly unfair. He might not be the most empathetic person on a good day – far from it – but he certainly wasn’t someone to be scared of.

And yet that’s exactly how Billy looked like in that moment: scared and terrified, of something only he could see. His fingers were digging into the armchair so deeply Charles was sure he would find imprints of his fingernails in the leather later, and his breathing was beginning to become worryingly erratic again. Charles knew he had to intervene, and do it quickly.

“Breathe, Billy,” he said quietly. Billy’s wide eyes flicked up to him. “Nothing is going to happen to you here. You will meet the king, he will knight you and then he’s probably going to send you on a quest for some lost treasure or something. That’s it.”

Billy swallowed hard. “Really?”

Charles nodded. “Yes.”

“He won’t expect me to–“ Billy broke off, struggling to find the right words. “You know, take care of him … down there?”

He gestured vaguely to the area of his crotch and for a moment, Charles could only stare in utter horror as the puzzle pieces fell into place and he began to understand what Billy meant.

“Because as a page, I had to,” Billy went on, almost as if a dam had broken and he couldn’t stop himself. “I didn’t like it but it was my duty and I – I thought being a knight might mean the same, only with the king, but I – I don’t – I can’t –“

“Billy,” Charles said, and it was all he could do to keep his tone gentle despite the anger he felt boiling in his stomach. Philipp of Woolworth was lucky he was already dead. “Nothing of the sort is going to happen to you here. Do you hear me? You are not expected to serve the king in this … this manner, alright? That is not why you are here.”

Billy swallowed audibly as he looked at him. “Is it … is it part of your duties, then?”

Charles hadn’t known his heart still had the capacity to break after all these years but in that moment it did – completely and utterly. What kind of world had the kid grown up in? He felt sick to his stomach.

“No, Billy,” he said softly. “It is not part of my duties and never will be. King Bernard would never ask that of his servants – not me, not you, not the scullery maid down in the kitchen. You are safe here. I promise.”

Slowly, Billy sank back in his chair and wiped his hands down his face. He looked terribly shaken, and Charles wanted nothing more than to put him on that donkey of his - the one that could be faintly heard braying from the courtyard down below – and send him home into his grandmother’s arms where he would be safe and could perhaps regain a little of the childhood he had lost in Philipp of Woolworth’s service.

King Bernard’s muffled voice through the door was a powerful reminder that this was nothing more than wishful thinking. “Chamberlain!”

Their time was up. In a few minutes, Billy the page would become Sir William the knight and his whole life would change once again – for the better, some would say. And yet no title could ever relieve him of the burdens he was silently carrying on his thin shoulders. Deep down, Billy would still be that lonely boy who used to take comfort in his grandmother’s blanket when life became too much to bear – until that had been taken away from him, too.

Charles knew he couldn’t change the past or give the lad a better life than the one he was headed for – but there was one thing he could do: he could be there for Billy, could offer him an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and arms to hide away in; he could be the person he himself had longed for when his own life had gotten turned on its head all those years ago.

So he offered Billy one of his nowadays rare smiles. “Are you ready to meet the king?”

Billy sniffed but Charles was glad to note he no longer looked scared out of his mind when he nodded. “I … I think so.”

“Chamberlain!” King Bernard called again, sounding more impatient now.

“Coming, sire!” Charles shouted right back. He turned to Billy. “We better go.”

He led Billy to the door but stopped him with a light touch to his arm when he saw him ball his hands into nervous fists.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Remember: nothing bad is going to happen. I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?”

The grateful look Billy gave him was almost too much. “Thank you, Charles.”

“You’re welcome, lad.” Charles clapped him on the shoulder and gestured towards the door. “After you, Sir William.”

He did a playful bow, and when he lifted his head again, Billy was smiling at him.

#chamberlain #mat's page #yonderland #whump wednesday #my fic #I have no idea if anyone is even going to read this #You're all probably getting tired of my weird character combinations by now lol #WWFF challenge

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slurrmp · 4 years ago

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not another info sheet. part II

elenore white (doctor who)

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: elenore campbell white PRONUNCIATION: EL-a-nor MEANING: compassion, foreign REASONING: just a name that her mother really liked NICKNAME(S): ellie, nore, nelle PREFERRED NAME(S): ellie BIRTH DATE: march 6th 1992 AGE: 27 ZODIAC: pieces GENDER: female PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual NATIONALITY: british/australian ETHNICITY: white CURRENT LOCATION: sheffield, united kingdom LIVING CONDITIONS: in a small flat that sits just above her small cafe in the city. TITLE(S): miss

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: albany, western australia HOMETOWN: sheffield SOCIAL CLASS: middle class EDUCATION LEVEL: finished high school FATHER: bernard white (deceased) MOTHER: patricia white (nee dunham) (alive) SIBLING(S): none BIRTH ORDER: only child CHILDREN: none PET(S): only pet she owns is the tabby cat that likes to sit on her balcony when she’s home. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: none PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: she had a short term boyfriend when in high school, but because they traveled regularly she could never settle down properly. ARRESTS?: was once caught stealing from a local 7eleven when she was 16 and quite drunk. PRISON TIME?: none

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: running and owning her own cafe SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: none TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: she travels with the master - that’s her income APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: usually it depends on how well her cafe does. which it does, during both summer and winter months. around about 50k CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: it’s what she was born to do PAST JOB(S): went straight from high school to working in a local bakery, which didn’t really help pay the bills but was enough to help her keep learning. (desk agent with UNIT) SPENDING HABITS: hardly buys anything for herself. most of her furniture and clothes are second hand. what she does spend on are product for her cafe and also the occasional cat food for the stray tabby MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her father’s wedding ring, which her mother gave to her when he passed

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: ellie enjoyed water polo when in school, so swimming was everything to her - which means that she is quite strong in her legs and arms. OFFENSE: no DEFENSE: yes. only when needed however SPEED: not much of a runner. however, will sprint if her life is in danger INTELLIGENCE: hated maths in school, as well as science. however, she is in no way stupid ACCURACY: terrible AGILITY: pretty flexable, can move around objects and people easy STAMINA: it’s fairly good TEAMWORK: there’s only one other person she depends upon TALENTS: can make a mean souffle SHORTCOMINGS: she’s very quick to trust, as well as wanting to help everyone LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, a little bit of swedish DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes SWIM?: yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: she enjoys strumming a guitar PLAY CHESS?: no BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: yes PICK A LOCK?: no

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: victoria pedretti EYE COLOR: blue HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: dead straight, however, with a bit of styling it will have a curl GLASSES/CONTACTS?: no DOMINANT HAND: left HEIGHT: 5′4″ WEIGHT: 58 kg BUILD: she’s short and skinny. but toned from all the water polo she played in high school, as well as all the training that she went through when she joined unit. EXERCISE HABITS: she’s terrible at keeping up with the gym, however running from a different species every week sure helps her keep fit. SKIN TONE: slightly tanned, however still pale TATTOOS: her star sign, pisces, on the inside of her middle finger. PEIRCINGS: ears ( double lobe ), helix, upper lip (however she never wears it in anymore) MARKS/SCARS: a birthmark in the shape of a what looks like a star on the underside of her arm. scar on her left thigh from falling out of a tree when she was a kid. a small scar on her right cheek (caused by the master) NOTABLE FEATURES: her blue eyes USUAL EXPRESSION: bubbly - bright - wide eyed CLOTHING STYLE: summer dresses mainly, bright and bold colours. during winter jeans and a fashionable jumper is what you’d find her in. when traveling with the master - it will depend on the planet, but always with sneakers or flat shoes. she learnt the hard way that sandals suck on a different planet JEWELRY: bracelets and a bangle that she’s had since she was a child. her father’s wedding ring, worn as a necklace ALLERGIES: most flowers, shellfish BODY TEMPERATURE: always running a slightly higher temperature than normal DIET: immaculate, considering she loves cooking most of her meals. however, after a hard day a work, she will get fast food PHYSICAL AILMENTS: had a broken leg when she was younger, however, nothing hindering her (yet)

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: entj ENNEAGRAM TYPE: the peacemaker MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful good ELEMENT: water PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: logical-mathematical APPROXIMATE IQ: 127 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: a little bit of ptsd after her previous work SOCIABILITY: very out going and loves to meet new people EMOTIONAL STABILITY: perfectly stable (this eventually changes) OBSESSION(S): making sure that everything goes her way, that everything is perfect and that nothing is messed up PHOBIA(S): claustrophobic, fear of insects, open water ADDICTION(S): none DRUG USE: none ALCOHOL USE: limited PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: almost like a child - likes to use the abbreviation of words, especially when it comes to taking orders at work. however, when in business mode, she is able to speak ‘properly’ ACCENT: a little bit of that sheffield twang, however, she still has a hint of an aussie accent QUIRKS: bottom lip always finds its place between her teeth HOBBIES: cooking and baking is her life, going to the markets every weekend, binging tv shows that she’s missed through the week HABITS: has a habit of biting her nails NERVOUS TICKS: pacing when she’s nervous DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: to survive. she’s on her own now and she knows what’s out there, ellie is just trying to make a living for herself so that she can survive the next alien attack FEARS: dying. it’s a common one, but she knows what’s out there, losing her friends and her mother POSITIVE TRAITS: strong willed, brave, will stand up for herself NEGATIVE TRAITS: too trusting, willing to see the best in everyone, very stubborn SENSE OF HUMOR: oh it’s dry but also a little dark DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: on and off CATCHPHRASE(S): what the hell is that?

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: baking ANIMAL: otter BEVERAGE: white wine BOOK: war and peace CELEBRITY: george clooney COLOR: pastel grey DESIGNER: jimmy choo FOOD: roast chicken FLOWER: she’s allergic, but if she had to choose, lotus GEM: sapphire HOLIDAY: christmas MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: local transport MOVIE: 13 going on 30 MUSICAL ARTIST: sleeping at last SCENERY: a bright and sunny day in the park SCENT: flour, cookie dough SPORT: ice hockey SPORTS TEAM: pittsburg penguins TELEVISION SHOW: new girl WEATHER: spring VACATION DESTINATION: back to her birth place, australia

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: to become a world famous baker GREATEST FEAR: seeing earth fall into the wrong hands MOST AT EASE WHEN: when she’s in the kitchen. it is absolutely the place she goes to when she’s sad, stressed, happy, angry LEAST AT EASE WHEN: backed into a corner, being accused of something that she didn’t do WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: being left behind on an alien planet by her travel companion BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: opening her own cafe BIGGEST REGRET: not settling down MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: she told the kind of france to fuck off when she was having a bad day. safe to say that she isn’t welcome back in 17th century frace BIGGEST SECRET: her love for the master TOP PRIORITIES: her cafe

#doctor who #doctor who oc #the master x reader #ch. elenore white.#quiet when i'm coming home and i'm on my own.#m o r e ....

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feynavaley · 5 years ago

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50 Questions

I took this from @mandelene, thanks for the open invitation!

———

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? Light brown. (It’s a wooden hairbrush.)

2. Name a food you never ever eat. Well... I’m quite a picky eater but I generally try everything if I’m pressed (even though I end up not liking it). I won’t eat very spicy food though, I don’t have a good tolerance for it. Another food I used to enjoy but now I can’t even stand the smell of anymore – and even less I would eat – is almond paste. (Long story short, I came up with something – maybe labyrinthitis – that made me awfully nauseous and dizzy for a few days. I would throw up any time I even just stood up, I couldn’t eat anything. But my roommate had on her desk and almond paste cake, which has a very strong smell. Since I constantly smelled it while feeling so sick, now that’s what I associate that smell and taste with.)

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Generally, too cold. I handle being cold better than I handle being hot, though.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Translating from English to Italian some stuff my dad needs for work. (He doesn’t understand/speak English.)

5. What is your favourite candy bar? Kinder Bueno, Tronky, and Bounty.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? No.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “No, I haven’t seen your glasses. Are you sure you didn’t leave them upstairs?” to my mother.

8. What is your favourite ice cream? If it’s good, Pistachio. It’s very hard to get right, though. Not many ice cream parlours can prepare it well, they tend to make it too sweet.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water.

10. Do you like your wallet? Yes. Actually, I have two – one is a big red one where I keep basically everything, the other is blue and small and I just put in there a few banknotes and coins and the cards I need, changing them every time. I like both of them.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Chicken breast and salad for dinner.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope. I’ve been confined home for almost one month and a half. 😅

13. The last sporting event you watched? I don’t know. I’m not a fan of sports so I don’t watch anything spontaneously. I only watch something if I’m with somebody who wants to watch it, but I don’t remember when the last time was.

14. What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Uhh... there are different flavours of popcorns? I only know one... 😅 I’m not a great fan, though.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? An aunt of mine. (My mother’s youngest sister.)

16. Ever go camping? Yes and no. I’ve never gone with a tent in the wild or anything – however, my grandparents used to own a trailer that they kept in a fancy camping location/trailer park by the seaside. When I was a child, I would spend the entire three months of summer break there. I don’t know if it counts as camping, though. After growing older, my sister and I would sleep in a tent instead of the trailer (because the trailer was too small for everybody), but it was still in that fancy campsite which I don’t know how much can count.

17. Do you take vitamins? No.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? Yes. I mean, not right now, clearly (all the Churches are closed due to Covid-19 lockdown) but I would go under normal circumstances.

19. Do you have a tan? No. And it’s very hard for me to get one, anyway. I’m as white as a person can possibly be. 😅 (I’m paler than an actual albino person I know at work. I wish I were kidding. 😓)

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? I prefer pizza. Very stereotypical, I know. 😅 (I’m talking about real Italian pizza, though.)

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? Generally not.

22. What colour socks do you usually wear? White or black.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Depends on where I am and what the speed limit is. I respect the 50 km/h limit inside the cities and towns, but the 30 km/h that can be often found... yeah. 😅 (I’ve never met a driver who respected it, though.) If I’m out of the city and on a straight street across the countryside, I respect the 70 km/h limit but I tend to go faster if there’s a 50 km/h one. (Unless I know there’s an autovelox.) I’ve never gone above the 90 km/h limit, either – actually, I tend to go more around 80–85 km/h on those streets. I should probably also mention that I never drive much above the speed limit, though.

24. What terrifies you? Failure. Hurting or even just disappointing or upsetting other people. On the irrational side, I’m highly arachnophobic and I’m terrified of dogs.(Because I was attacked by a freaking SAINT BERNARD. Luckily, it just got my sweater, but it was completely mauled by the time somebody managed to get it back so... It also turned out I’m mildly allergic though, so me not staying around dogs is probably for the best anyway.)

25. Look to your left, what do you see? I actually don’t know how it’s called in English. I have a sloped wooden roof covering the left side of my bedroom, and I see it along with the skylight.

26. What chore do you hate most? Washing the dishes. Our sink is at a height that forces me to bend in an awkward way and makes my back ache if I have to wash more than a couple of dishes.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? “OMG what is that person saying?? 😭” I’m not a native English speaker so strong non-standard accents always throw me off a bit, at least at first. 😅 I need a few minutes to get used to them.

28. What’s your favourite soda? Citron soda (I don’t know the brand. It was one my great-grandparents used to have in small glass bottles, it tasted amazing and was so refreshing...), Fanta, or Coke Zero. I don’t drink soda often, though.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive? I go in. I think there’s only one place with a drive-through in my hometown.

30. What is your favourite number? For some reason, I’ve always liked the numbers 3 and 11. They aren’t my lucky numbers or anything, I just like them. (Actually, thinking about it, I know why I like the number 11... In German, it’s ‘elf’, and I started taking German around the period I was obsessed with LoTR... 😅)

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? My mother.

32. Favourite cut of beef? I hardly ever eat beef (I eat meat about every other day, but it’s generally chicken or turkey breast), I don’t have a preference.

33. Last song you listened to? This one. (You’re welcome.)

34. Last book you read? Fire and Blood by George R.R. Martin.

35. Favourite day of the week? Saturday.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? Yes, but only the Italian one (that is missing J, K, X, Y, W). I tend to mix up some letters in the English one. 😅

37. How do you like your coffee? Plain espresso.

38. Favourite pair of shoes? My ankle-height black converse.

39. The time you normally get up? Since the lockdown started, between 8:30–9. I’ve been having trouble sleeping so I’m always tired in the morning.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunset, the colours are gorgeous. Sunrise is still beautiful and so it’s the atmosphere, but the colours tend to be fainter.

41. How many blankets on your bed? One, at the moment.

42. Describe your kitchen plates. Kind of square, white with blue and yellow stylized flowers in the corners.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment? Quite empty. We’re due a grocery run.

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? No, I don’t like any alcoholic drink. For some reason, I don’t like the taste of alcohol. (And there’s probably something genetic here as it’s also true for my sister, my father, and other relatives from my father’s side.)

45. Do you play cards? Technically, I know a few games but I’m not really good at them and I don’t play often.

46. What colour is your car? I use my mother’s car and it’s dark blue. We also have a dark grey car (belonging to my father) but I’ve never used it because it’s very big (you can go up to 7 seats), I wouldn’t feel comfortable with driving it, let alone parking.

47. Can you change a tire? No.

48. Your favourite state? I’ve never been anywhere in the US so I can’t say.

49. Favourite job you’ve had? The current one. The pay is very low so I’ll have to leave it as soon as I find something better, but I love these children so much. 😭

50. How did you get your biggest scar? I actually don’t have any big scar... I have several small ones. The biggest one is probably on my arm, from when I leaned against the toaster to unplug it and got this long, thin burn. 😅

———

I tag anybody who feels like doing this! And please tag me back, I’d love to read your answers! 😊

#about feyna #tag chain

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smallgayblanket · 5 years ago

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OOh - tell me some of your headcannons for the egos?

Ohhh man oh man oh man- which one do i even start with..

I have a load of different HCS that fit certain different spins of how the egos are depending on one what kinda universe they are apart of..

For example, I have one about JJ- Where he was actually made mute by Shawn, except Shawn while his body was puppeted by the ink demon creature that resides within him. (Ive even RP’d a thing with a friend where Shawn’s ink counterpart forced ink into JJ and JJ ended up having his own alter ink persona called Cole.)

JJ is a bartender- and hes suuuper good at knowing exactly what someone will enjoy as a drink, call it a superpower, he hardly ever goes wrong when asked what he suggests they’d like.

(Also he has a pocket watch which contains the soul of an old man called Horace who likes to try and provide old man advice to the lad.)

And although hes a timey fellow, I actually HC’d his ablity would to be to control liquids, his veins in his wrists glow when he does it, its very fancy (and extremely pretty when he can make creatures out of water dance on the surface of the lake) However over use leads to him suffering an experience of drowning which can be rather dangerous and awfully scary.

JJ also has a huge fear of knives.

Also I picture him having silver tipped hair, which is just a touch long and flops in his eyes occasionally.

JJ Also suffers malnutrition because of his sore vocal cords/throat. It can be struggle to get him to eat!. (Did i mention I cannon him as selectively /half mute because he can still talk but its raspy and hurts to do so ? ^^’ )

Jackie

Jackie!! my ladd. Hes a great guy, buff, charming, super big sweetheart too.

He runs a couple of jobs, depending on where hes at which include: a comic book shop, a gym, or just sneakily hiding in plain sight as a gas station convenience store clerk.

I HC that his eyes are actually a blue tinted lilac, and glow gold.

He has a red patch in his hair!

Hes v v fast, and buff.

I also had this whole thing about him being able to create glowing golden orbs and if he makes enough of them he can basically make a clone out of orbs, and they copy what he does!

However, I’ve also always adored Phionex! Jackie, who lost his wings and desperately wants to grow them back but despite being reborn from ash they seem to still refuse to resprout.

Because of his inhuman nature, he runs really fucking warm! so hes like a human heater.

He gives real good advice, and the bestest fuckin hugs.

Also for some reason whenever I write him speaking he has a bit of southern in him?

Robbie

Robbie. Is the softest of lads, he drowns in his sweaters, and as a few autistic traits. Not a fan of big loud noises and crowds and loves soft things to nuzzle up against. Also big oral fixation, boi needs some chew toys. Hes a good lad, eager to help out and be around the other egos, but also quite the quiet type and happy to sit around at home in his piles of blankets.

Chase

I totally HC that Chase suffers from Chronic fatigue, which is part of why his depression got so bad and that he tries his best to make use of his energy. Poor guy can get real tuckered out when he pushes himself too hard.

He's always kept the lime green mess on the top of his head, though sometimes it gets more yellow then he means for it to get.

He has a tattoo dedicated to his kids hidden under his sleeve on his upper arm/shoulder. It's of some cool triangles. One in red for his son, one in purple for his daughter.

He does really well trying to maintain his bro average channel.

Anti

I kinda have a couple views on Anti, since I love cold asshole murder, and also the possibility of ships with a slightly more misunderstood but softer guy.

Hes got static blue eyes, that you’ll only see if hes being vulnerable or super tired that he cant maintain the scary green glow.

I have a HC that hes actually a missing part of Jacks soul, hence why he feels so unstable, incomplete and sad. Hes missing all the good bits that Sean has, and is left with a cold fragment of what he could really be.

However he has, and does murder. Though he attempts to murder those who have actually done wrong.

Very sassy and snappy. Takes alot to get to get to who he actually is.

On the other hand he can just be a fucking ruthless torturer and crazy sadistic asshole who has it out for nearly everyone!

Angus!

Survival hunter. Weird accent mix of Australian and Irish. Uses 'mate' 'oi' 'bag a few of them'

Has a trusty machette. And an epic bow which he's p good at using. Large knowledge of trees and animals and survival.

Wears alot of camo/brown stuff. Loads of pockets. Pocket knife/multitool Hair usually slicked back or messy.

Finger less gloves! Oceany more greeny pale eyes. Totally has some cool studs in his ears- maybe a little wolf fang in the side or something. Beard more like is soft and fuller and well maintained.

Freckles??? sunspots?? yes. Also toned n tanned Def has scars. On his neck, over his cheek and right eye. Plenty on his hands from burns and stings. Has some nasty ones on his ankle on his right foot from accidentally encountering a rouge set up bear trap- nearly lost his foot. Because of that theres sometimes a faint limp that's only kinda there when hes sick/tired.

Obviously wears boots.

Eats alot of trail mix.Loves his meat tho.

Also partakes in Woodcarving !!

Sometimes rather foolishly ignores when hes hurt.

Lost his right leg from the knee down to an awful incident with a hippo Has a prosthetic leg.

Also lost from his elbow down his forearm n hand to a Wedingo.

if he were to have a Home it would basically be a sanctuary. Like a huge property out of the way and secluded.. Nice and private.

HE HAS A St. Bernard. Big puppo- Called Baloo.

He grows some cool ass rare flowers, some homegrown vegtables n berries. Maybe even a cashew tree/apple tree. Plenty of shade but also fresh air.

He has solar panels too so hes basically not needing anyone asides the trip to the shop for like basics he cant acquire like soaps n milk n stuff.

Blank

My fucking. Boi.

Fricking soft boy, his aura is hard to control and sometimes controls him.

He has a rare heart issue which makes him prone to fainting and collapsing without much warning. Still, he tries.

He mumbles an awful lot, and has boughts where his aura ges really bad and he numbs out..(Usually in the corner of his room, everything dark, and loads of errie whispers..)

His aura can manifest into dead vines. He can also absorb other auras so they cant affect him/others!

Sometimes stray petals end up in his hair.

He’s truly trying to be a good lad, hes just a bit odd and misguided. He worries he’ll turn into a monster.

He fucking loves the moves Finding Nemo, and Finding Dory, because he can be very forgetful too.

Honestly, fav boi, should write more for him i just l ove him alot okay.

KOTS

Personally, I HC that the KOTS is actually called Simon. Occasionally i like to picture him with both ears and tail, but generally hes just a guy in glasses in a red sweater who is generally a little skittish and usually quite frazzled. However he actually isnt all that dumb, and has quite an extensive knowledge on the forests flora and fauna.

I did have a really mean HC that hes actually allergic to PB, but only in the sense that it upsets his tum, so like a lactose intolerant person, he eats it and regrets that later.

Also, he has a really nice hanging egg nest thing thats really cushioned and he loves to curl up and sleep there with a nice book.

He’s got really pretty amber eyes too!!

Edward!!

He fucking loves space!! and Secretly also is not that bad at painting. It's a soothing thing to do in his downtime.

His favourite treat is anything with white chocolate and raspberry.

Also, I quite adore my HC that he loses an arm- Either because of upsetting the heads of the household (Dark/Wilford) or because of a house fire.

(Also this isnt the place to mention it but I did once get excited about the idea of a Google/Edward fusion called Edware.)

Yandere

Nonbinary somewhat MTF.

They’re a real cutie. but they will punch dickheads without sweat and really just want someone to be their senpai and let them fall for them head over heels without running away..

They have an epic pink katana. Obviously a huge love for japan and its culture and stuff.

Quite obsessive, but it usually only endangers them for falling so hard that they hurt themselves trying to please their Senpai and beat themselves up over not being worthy or good enough for them when they dont get affection back or end up rejected.

Also yeah theyre into blood a little bit >.>

I kinda love the idea of shipping them with Bim and helping him get a supply of ��meat’ in return Bim gives plenty of affections to satisfy Yans starved nature.

#everyoneprotector #hcs #my ideas #I love so many of these okay

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fatesfeateda · 6 years ago

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((Still not feeling up to replies but here’s an about for Emmy’s roommate, Bes. A fairly old OC some of you might recognize but has gone through some changes))

Name: Bes Voros Age: 17 Lineage: Rat Beast Gender: Cis-Female Pronouns: She/Her Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Aromantic, Asexual Faceclaim: Nicola from Shou.nen Ou.jo

Human Appearance: Long black hair typically tied into pigtails, dark brown eyes, blind out of her right eye with a very faint scar over it, four foot nine, stout with from mix of fat and muscle, dark tan skin, piercings all up her ears and typically looks annoyed or angry. Rat Appearance: Long gray fur with black splotches of fur, small claws on her fingers and toes, four foot nine, stout with a mix of fat and muscle, the scar over her right eye is much more noticeable, a long rat tail that she has a tendency to wrap around herself, sharp teeth and a crooked smile and round rat ears with piercings all up her ears. Nationality: Mexican Occupation: Pizza Deliverer and Film Student Personality: Shy, quiet, grumpy, sarcastic, hot headed, easily flustered, ambitious, hard working, loyal, brave, cunning, introverted, good listener to her friends, stubborn, giving, holds grudges, outspoken, caring and tsundere af Family: Magdalena Voros-Bernard(Mom), Nico Voros(Deceased Biological Dad) Noah Bernard(Adopted Dad) and Illion Voros(Brother) Backstory(Trigger warning for forced marriage, child abuse and molestation): Bes did not grow up in a happy household. Her father died when she was born and at 3 years old her mother moved her family out of Mexico. They moved to Faeris where her mother met Noah. Noah forced her mother to marry him with threats of having her arrested if she didn’t.

Noah never liked Illion or Bes, he was constantly abusive towards them and fought with them endlessly. He put them in the hospital on several different occasions. At 5 years old Noah threw a bottle at Bes’ head, the bottle broke and the glass scared her eye. She was rushed to the hospital and though they managed to get scaring to a minimum she’s been blind out of her right eye ever since.

When Bes was 8 Noah and Illion got into a huge fight. Illion ended up throwing a punch at Noah and the two wound up in a fist fight. Illion won but Noah called the police. The police came and arrested Illion, who was 18 at the time, for aggravated assault and drug possession.

At 13 Bes and Noah got into a fight after Noah attempted to molest her again. Noah gave her the option of either leaving the house or apologizing. Originally Bes planned to apologize. But upon seeing her mother mouthing for her to run, she chose to run away.

Bes lived on the streets for years doing whatever odd jobs she could to pay for food and even stayed attending public school. That’s when she met Kather. She met him when she was doing a delivery for Alan and they ran into each other at Alan’s apartment. They ended up becoming fast friends and have been close friends since.

She'd met Emmy in school, they didn’t get along at first. But after Emmy ended up standing up for Bes, Bes came around to respect Emmy. They became friends not long after.

Bes graduated a year early from school and ended up getting her own apartment with Emmy. She’s attending college on scholarship now and studying to be a film director. She’s the only one of Emmy’s friends that knows about Xander and Emmy. She swears if she ever meets him face to face she’ll drown him.

#♦Our stories aren't created by us(CO's works)♦#♥They could never silence you(Bes)♥#child abuse //#abuse //#force marriage //#child molestation //#molestation //#((I keep making evil dads that I hate idk why that is))

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mariavlc82 · 4 years ago

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I wasn’t tagged but I wanted to do it:

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? Black

2. name a food you never eat: Sushi

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? Too cold, but I prefer cold weather

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? Preparing next week classes

5. what’s your favorite candy bar? Mars

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? Maybe twice to football games

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? I’m leaving

8. what is your favorite ice cream? Chocolate

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? Water

10. do you like your wallet? Yes, I do. It’s a nice colour (blue) and very practical.

11. what is the last thing you ate? Choclate

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? No

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? Can’t remember, it’s been too long

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? I just add a bit of salt

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? My sister.

16. ever been camping? Yes

17. do you take vitamins? No

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? No

19. do you have a tan? No, I hate the sun, and I’m very pale so I get sunburned

20. do you prefer Chinese or pizza? A good pizza.

21. do you drink your soda through a straw? I don’t drink soda

22. what color socks do you usually wear? Dark colours or striped socks.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? I cannot say I’ve never done it, but I try not to.

24. what terrifies you? Being jobless

25. look to your left, what do you see? My cellphone

26. what chore do you hate most? Ironing

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? I probably won’t recognize an Australian accent

28. what’s your favorite soda? Don’t like any

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thrus are not a thing here

30. what’s your favorite number? 7 or 8

31. who’s the last person you talked to? My mom

32. favorite meat? Chicken

33. last song you listened to? Christmas in Dixie

34. last book you read? Warriors of the Storm by Bernard Cornwell

35. favorite day of the week? Saturday

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? It would take me time, I’ve never tried

37. how do you like your coffee? Don’t like coffee

38. favorite pair of shoes? Comfy ones

39. time you normally get up? 7am

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunsets

41. how many blankets on your bed? One and a duvet

42. describe your kitchen plates: White.

43. describe your kitchen at the moment: Acceptably clean

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? I don’t like alcoholic drinks

45. do you play cards? Sometimes

46. what color is your car? White

47. can you change a tire? No, thank god insurance covers it

48. your favorite state or province? I’m not American; I’ve only been to NY city and Washington DC and if I have to choose one, of course I’d choose NY city.

49. favorite job you’ve had? Embriologist, although I’m enjoying being a teacher

#About me

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valerie-royeaux · 7 years ago

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The Battle of the Storm Coast

Blood & Dust - Chapter 6

(There is a nice serious summary, but here is goes: SEA BATTLE! If you like Bernard Cornwell, you have to read this chapter! Medieval sea battle, folks!)

Having discovered the fate of John's family, Junia helps him avoid the traps in Kirkwall and they sail to the Storm Coast. But on their way they find a raging storm, and join the first great engagement of the Fereldan War.

Word count: 6,899 Read it on AO3, or continue below

Previous chapters: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

You don’t think about death, even as you dance with it daily. You spend your time perfecting your movements so they will be swift at delivering it and veering it away from you. In fighting, every blow is the Reaper’s touch, and you live and breath to deliver him, to act for him, to be his good agent. Good killers live longer. Piling up corpses keeps the blood on your veins running. In the end, that is where the beauty of it all lies: glory is nothing but the Reaper’s favour. Being alive is receiving a good boy pat on the head from Death and a morsel of his affection. A fatherly smirk which says “not now”, and fills you with pride to the proportion of your ability to make sure it is somebody else’s now. Living is to not die. Staying alive is but not being chosen for the the sacrificial slaughter.

If you don’t keep Death happy, he comes for you. You will live until you cross paths with someone who is better at killing than you are. Who kills more than you do. Who will kill you. And when this day comes, you die. And your killers lives. Reaps the benefits of pleasing the Reaper. The Reaper, he looks after his own. His people bask in the bare bones of his reward.

And John… John realized he was really bad at killing. He stood alone at the on the prow of a fat Fereldan cog, feeling the sword Junia gave him a few weeks ago light with the blood he had shed when escaping the monastery. There was more rust than death on it. More rust than deaths on every sword he had ever owned. His own arms carried more of his own blood than other people’s. The gaping kill void around him suffocated the pleads he could cast up the Heavens. His sadness sunk around the mass of his own guilt. It did not rise in raging vapour to the Maker’s nose.

His hand clenched at the taut rope tying the bowsprit to the mast, and he hung his head and wept. Ahead of him, at the end of the grey, blackened sky, somewhere where sky and ocean meet, a storm was crackling silent. Other than his cheeks, John was still dry. He hugged Junia tight when he felt her arms press his hauberk against his waist, and her head nest against the rusty links on his chest. John pushed his lips against the top of her head, and sobbed. Junia was silent as the storm ahead, and felt his tears wet her chestnut hair before the first drops of rain did.

Junia did not know what to say. Having the whole family murdered had also happened to her, but much longer ago, to a point where it was more a beacon of a painful memory, than pain itself. She also had not cared greatly for her family - she had been brought up mostly by servants, never her parents. She would be surprised if her mother had actually breastfed her herself. And apparently, the Couslands had been this special kind of rich. Maybe because John��s mother had not been Cousland rich before becoming one? John had shared a lot about his family in the past two days, ever since he was told about their demise. But apparently, Eleanor had been the breastfeed-her-own-children kind of woman. And missing such mother should probably hurt. Junia decided to break from that train of thought when the image of Mara and Lucia being slaughtered assaulted her, and she closed her eyes at that.

“Don’t you think it is risky to be in a boat in mail, John? This one doesn’t have your grandfather’s special buckle. You should be wearing a padded gambeson”.

John shook his head negatively, and pressed Junia against himself. “A padded gambeson would soak so much water, it would drag me right down. And with a jerkin like yours, I might as well drown in arrows instead of water. You should be in mail, Junia.”

Junia simply shrugged. “I can’t wear these things. I don’t know how you can move in them.”

Silence lingered for a few moments, as they both faced the storm ahead, ignoring the first droplets that announced they were getting too close to it. “I can’t thank you enough, you know?”

Junia’s response was to look up with inquisitive eyes. Those large dark eyes, when striking John, did something to him. They quelched the roaring turmoil, damped the pangs that seemed to tear his insides. Those orbs with a simple question marred the pain in a noise of hope, and that made John delay his words for a few moments, as he took Junia’s eyes in. “I would probably be dead if it weren’t for you. You rescued me in that chantry. You hid me after that monastery. And now, you arranged us this cog. I hope the man in Orzammar is not too pissed at you for taking too long with his money”.

Junia said only “I didn’t arrange the boat, it was Mara. It is her husband’s. I don’t like to use things she gets through him, but this was obviously a worthy exception”.

John continued his thanks, but Junia was not paying proper attention to them. She rested her neck against the human’s armored chest again, and pondered on his first words. He was right. He was absolutely right. He owed everything to her. He was alive because of her, because she knew not to keep her guard down, because she was not a naive fool raised in a crib of gold and beautiful tales. Because, when she killed, it was dirty, and not glorious… And because she thought she could make even more money by diverting to Highever and delivering the princely boy safe and sound to a worried dad. So she would make more money with that than the sum she was once going to deliver to Behrat.

That sum, now, was with Behlen’s Nose - not above the sea, but under it, on its way to Behrat. Before they departed Kirkwall, Junia realized she was not so inclined to gain Behrat’s favor anymore. And Behlen’s Nose cared too much about it to disappear with the money she was responsible for bringing in. But Junia could not avoid it. She had been desperately telling herself that she would not be knighted, that a human lord, destitute or not, would not marry a dwarf. She was not affirmed as a Sister in her youth, she would not lead the easy life of a Lady, nor reap the glory of the Order of Chivalry. Her conscious mind reminded her all the time that the Maker makes do with no fools. Yet, the days and nights next to John and his promises, his plans - his fucking plans - led her actions otherwise. The fool would not stop planning. Never! All those seducing beautiful features, painted in flames and framed by the corpses of moths. Junia knew Lucia loved having her as a sister. That Mara and her husband had the power and the influence to allow Junia the life of worship she once sought. But all it took was one more powerful than them to quench all those promises. And there certainly would be a Grand Cleric somewhere, to prevent one such as her to become a knight and a wife.

Yet, even buried in the news of Highever, John planned still. He would still knight her, he would still have her if she would so desire. In the Storm Coast, with his grandfather, who still lived. In loyal Waking Sea, under the famous bann Alfstanna Eremon.

John had silenced his thanks for a long time, and the rain never strengthened to more than drizzle. The sea spray was doing more to wet them than the faint droplets that blended the sea and sky in a homogenous gray, except for the crackling sparkles in the horizon. Junia should be dry, under the earth, on her way to Orzammar. But here she was, with a kind, fool of a human, who…

Junia looked up once again, and her silent eyes, aided by a faint smile on her broad, full lips, quickly brought John’s gaze to hers. “I love you, John.”

---

The sparking corner of the horizon was now all around them, and pouring rain made the night’s sleep troubled at best. John and Junia slept together on a corner of the deck, under a flapping tent, hugged as much as their gear allowed under a blanket. Most of the crew was awake, helping juggle the vessel amid the broad waves. Had the storm not started early in the previous evening, Junia would also be awake. But she had been rocked, literally, to sleep. John, on his end, had been eased into sleep by the murky water of his feelings. The despair of his family’s death would not mix with the happiness of Junia’s confession, and these two rivers would swirl and drag around each other, but would not become one thing. Yet for the first time ever since he had met this marvelous woman, she embarked on his plans and ideas for the future, and she held his hand to move beyond the point of vengeance. There were many scenarios, and all moved past this storm towards brighter blues in the sky. Vengeance would be sweeter seasoned by love. And grief was certainly more bearable cushioned by it.

The skipper approached the couple, and shook John’s shoulder. They both were sleeping under the tent that covered the bow of the fat cog, but there was no actual separation from that area to the rest of the deck. John opened tired eyes at the small, tanned, bald man with an ugly tattoo under his right eye. Just like everyone aboard, he was soaked. John and Junia were just less wet for the time being. Junia opened her eyes as well, wishing John’s arm around her had less steel. “We’ll anchor for a while, m’lord”, said the man in an awful Fereldan. “There’s battle ahead.”

Thunder clasped and John hazily got up on his feet, as fast as he could, tumbling against the ship’s railing as a tall, fat wave wobbled the vessel. He leaned over the railing at the bow, holding the taut bowsprit for balance and, after registering the scene, he let out a loud cry of joy. “Yes!!! Junia! Junia, come see this!”

Junia thought her mind was playing tricks on her, since the sound of creaking wood projected itself above the roaring waves, the wind, and the gnarling thunder. It was something she was not used to see, and not quite understood, but John was beaming at the scene: a few hundred yards ahead of them, an enormous warship was cresting a giant wave. This vessel was at least four times as long as the cog that was carrying them, and it seemed like the ocean itself was straining to lift it to the top of the wave. Junia could not count how many oars it had - all of them retracted - but there were certainly hundreds! As this ship reached the peak of the surge, its ram projected out of the water. On each side of the ram, two angry, godly eyes were painted, giving the vessel the qualities of a sea monstrosity.

And that monstrosity, propelled by gale force winds stuffing the two triangular sails, was now riding the other side of the wave, skidding down and slicing the surf on its way to find the flank of what seemed to Junia the unluckiest ship in the world. A smaller version of the monster, with a single sail and a double row of oars. Its belly was exposed to the charge of the larger vessel, fuming down the seafoam. “They are going to collide!” Junia shouted.

“The Storm Giant will ram that dromon!” John replied in an almost frenzied bliss. “That’s my grandfather’s ship, love! Ram her in, grandpa!”

The Storm Giant did not have the Cousland’s laurel on its white sails. They soared instead from the top of the masts, two light green pennants tensioned taut by the raging winds, pointing towards the distraught dromon. The wind was at the trireme’s back, and at the dromon, the Amaranthine bear seemed to try to flee from the oncoming assault. Dozens of crossbowmen would lose, cock, reload and lose again in the direction of the Storm Giant, their volleys doing little to stop the charge down the water mountain.

It was as if that dromon had not been there. Wood crackled like lightning, and the Storm Giant’s ram folded the dromon over itself, projecting the crossbowmen unto the troubled waters. John’s shouts of victory joined the ones of the sailors of the trireme, but the sailors of their cog were very scared. Junia was hugged, kissed and hugged again by her man, who was almost climbing on the railing, and kept urging the skipper to bring the cog closer so they could join the fray. In all honesty, Junia was terrified. She had been watching it all with widened eyes, still not believing how easy it was to simply fall and sink to the bottom of the ocean. All around those two ships that now seemed to be locked, dozens other vessels - galleys, cogs, dromons - were scattered and being shook here and there by an angry sea. Why were they fighting in the middle of a storm?

“Mistress Junia”, shouted the skipper, over the storm’s roaring. “I will bring you to that galley over there. But I will then return to Chiesaforte. My mission is complete, yes?”

Junia wanted to call the man crazy for even thinking of approaching the most dangerous situation she had seen in all her life. But when looking at John, she received the full weight of his eyes, the slap of the highest glimmer of hope she had seen in them ever since they left Kirkwall. His family was fighting back. John, on his side, could see Junia’s hesitance, and of course, he understood a sea battle was terrifying to anyone who had not been raised at the Storm Coast aboard the Storm Giant, the very trireme galley that was now detangling itself from the rammed dromon due to a fortuitous wave forming right underneath them.

“No,” he said, looking at Junia with a kind smile, and then at the skipper. “You will bring me to the Storm Giant, but you will anchor around with Junia. Once the battle is over, I will come for her.”

“Fuck that, John,” interrupted Junia, looking way braver than she was actually feeling. A skill she developed in her first days in the Carta, and one she hadn’t had to resort to in a long time. “I will fight with you.” At the first signs of protest coming from the human, she pushed on: “Is that how you intend on us to go ahead? I will be your knight, but you will sidetrack me, and leave me damseling while you fight?”

John wanted to insist, but she was right. She had proved herself more than once. He could point that Junia never fought at sea, but the resolution in her eyes was fierce, those angry, beautiful dark eyes. John took a deep breath and held Junia’s face with both his hands, laying a long, worried kiss on her soft lips. Junia welcomed this new emotions. She was indeed terrified. But she was ecstatic. Fighting without the need to justify the Maker’s will to herself felt really good. And fueled by love? She could face the pouring rain and thunder.

The skipper simply nodded, ordered his sailors to keep close control on the sail, and the others to waive any piece of white cloth they could find. They did not want to get rammed or have arrows and bolts join the rain. Slowly, thrown from a side to the other like a dog’s ragdoll, the Marcher cog approached the Storm Giant. The galley actually had its broadside exposed to the approaching fat vessel, but the slow speed and the waving of white cloths kept the arrows knocked in the bows of dozens of longbowmen, who were ready to reduce every sailor of John and Junia’s ship to pincushions. To her, it was impressive how the sailors in both vessels, John included, would barely rock with the ships going up and down all the times, adjusting their weight in unison with the waves.

The skipper manoeuvred the cog to be parallel to the galley, and both ships rocked each other, as the waters were far from gentle. In the taller Storm Giant, the longbowmen kept their careful aim on the people below, although some started relaxing their stances when they recognized the man who was waving his arm and asking them to lower a ladder. Before the ladder was unfurled, though, the skipper of the Storm Giant approached the edge, and crossed her arms.

John was not expecting her to be the skipper. Junia could see the confusion, and for a moment feared the worst, reading herself for all those arrows to be loosed. She actually closed her eyes, and leaned against John. There would be no escaping them. “Andraste’s knicker weasels, someone punch me and call me a liar! John Cousland! John fucking Cousland!”

Bann Alfstanna Eremon carried the storm in her smile, a woman of simple features, and ample bravery in the small green eyes. Junia could see little of her, looking from down below the cog’s deck. The lifted helmet visor allowed the dwarf to see a chiseled chin, and a pointy nose, broken to the right, just like Junia’s. The lips were thin and small, and more than anything, triumphant. She was geared in full armor, a shiny hauberk complete with pauldrons, gauntlet and cuirass, the white and blue tabard flowing with the wind. “Roll down the fucking goddamn ladder already! We’ve got no time to lose,” shouted the bann.

John and Junia made it onto the Storm Giant as well as did two sailors from the cog, lured by the promise of plunder in the ongoing battle. Bann Alfstanna welcomed the aid and sent them down to rowing decks, where they could use more people. “I thought you were dead as sure as lives the Maker, my friend. And where the fuck is your beard?”

John giggled, and made it to the prow following the broad steps of the armored woman. Junia was right next to him, utterly amazed at the organized mess of ropes, pulleys, spray, longbowmen, men-at-arms and deckhands, all balancing themselves in the evergoing earthquake beneath their feet. There were easily over fifty people on top of the deck, and easily hundreds more below, ready to row.

“I would be dead if it wasn’t for her. This is Junia Cadash, my lady. She saved my life many times over.” And turning to Junia, soaking his voice with a tenderness that that been buried in the battle frenzy ever since they sighted the Storm Giant, he said “And this is bann Alfstanna Eremon of Waking Sea, my love. A good friend of my family.”

Before Junia could reply to the introduction, Alfstanna was aghast and brought the dwarf in a strong hug, complete with breath expelling pats on the back. “My love! If you have his heart, you have my friendship, dwarf!” Junia was being shaken by the sea and by the other woman, but when she was brought closer, she felt a weird shape in the human’s cuirass. When they backed away, Junia had her brows furrowed looking at Alfstanna’s belly, and the latter caught it easily.

“Oh, this?”, she said, moving the tabard to the side and revealing improvising padding added to the cuirass in the belly region. “I am a married, pregnant woman, and you can call me grandmother, John. And you too, Djunia, once you make an honest man out of him. But just a moment now - Oars! Battle speed!”

That last shout raised above the storm, and soon wood rattled on all sides of the galley. The immense oars projected out of the hull, and soon the rhythmic drums began sounding, followed by the raising and lowering of the oars. The hundreds of oars on each side of the beast.

They had reached the prow, standing between the brows of the sea monster, and Junia was struggling to keep up with everything going around her. She had taken an instant liking to Alfstanna - she looked at the noblewoman as her future self; how she could be if she was a noble, a powerful bann. She didn’t realize that, regardless of dwarves dreaming or not, her own dreams were soaring high, and she was soaking in and being engulfed by the morale of the fighters on that ship. All around the Storm Giant, galleys, dromons and even repurposed cogs - not that Junia knew those names - rode the westerly winds, literally riding the storm to bring the battle to a confused enemy who was battered and scattered. All around them, as far as they could see in the spray and rain, it seemed that the battle was going really well for the Cousland forces, although the enemy seemed to be organizing itself.

But John wanted to know more. Junia was fine with understanding the “grandmother” remark Alfstanna made after they were done with that confusion. But the man would not be satisfied with less than an explanation. “What do you mean? Did you marry grandfather?!” a flabbergasted John asked. “Where is he?!”

Alfstanna, though, was too busy to explain. She had a mark in mind, and she would gladly explain that a later moment: “Yes, John, I married him - he is leading Highever’s army south, to Ostagar. Andraste’s tits, where have you been all this time? Look, look there. Junia, tell your man to pay attention. See? That’s the Kraken, my friend!”

The Kraken was the only other vessel in those waters that resembled the Storm Giant in her sheer size and menace. She had the same demonic eyes painted on each side of her keel, and her hundreds of oars moved in a careful dance that made sure she was staring back at the Storm Giant’s gaze.

“We knew they were coming to get us, John! But the Maker sent this storm flying west, can you believe this? We’ve been sailing the storm and caught the fuckers by surprise, my friend! Look all around you! I’ll have what’s left of Amaranthine’s fleet when this is all over, I’ll fucking rule the sea!” Alfstanna couldn’t contain herself, and with glee and gallantry shouted commands to the sailors. The men-at-arms started using their shields to guard the deck against volleys of bolts coming from a nearby cog. “But their fucking flagship managed to realign itself, John. And those nug-fucking dromons have her flanks! If we don’t take the Kraken down soon, most of these uncle-killer bastard will escape and regroup!”

Indeed, two smaller dromons angled themselves with the Kraken, making it impossible for the Storm Giant to chase her mark without being left significantly vulnerable to a rebuke from the Kraken. John saw that, and shook his head. Even with the high morale, the ships being captured and rammed all around them, his heart started to trickle down from him with the water from the warm rain. The Kraken was Amaranthine’s flagship, and capturing it would mean the end of any coordination from their end in that battle. “So we might as well regroup and end this madness, Alfstanna! We can’t risk it all, we will need these ships to retake Highever! Don’t risk a sure victory, please!”

Junia managed to recompose herself and control her stomach - the drums helped! Their beating and the oars raising and dipping gave her mind the rhythm she needed to keep her insides inside. But John and Alfstanna were on the brink of breaking in an argument, so she got between the two before things escalated. She knew the humans could not see nearly as good as her. And in the dim light of the storm, she was sure they were not seeing a very important detail.

“You two! Look at that boat --”

“Ship!” Both John and Alfstanna corrected.

“That boat over there! On the left of the other big boat. Our left, I mean. It has just crossbowmen. With the flank exposed to us! We are packed with longbowmen. Go in, rain arrows on the sodders, and ram the thing to Andraste’s bosom! The men-at-arms can shield us from volleys from the big one.”

John and Alfstanna remained in silence for a while, as thunder crackled and Junia looked at at them. All were soaked to the bone, but John found in himself to admire the wet dwarf before the next thunder came from Alfstanna. “Where did you find this dwarf, John?!” The bann hugged Junia and pressed a tight kiss to the top of her head. “You, friend, you are an absolute woman! She is right, we can do as she says and adapt from there.”

John could see Alfstanna’s cuirass raise an instant before she could bellow the command - he raised a hand. “No, wait, I have an idea. I will need a cog with one of the high castles, and a shitload of bowmen!” As he continued his explanation, his eyes and smile kept washing over Junia, who once again had gathered his spirit whole. His voice and gesticulating rose with excitement, and soon Alfstanna and Junia were shouting agreement. In a few minutes, all were ready to move.

The Selkie was the cog Alfstanna ordered to be brought to John. She was already crewed mostly by longbowman, as a crossbowmen was a rarity in Waking Sea and Storm Coast vessels. While Crossbowmen were easy to deploy and replenish - any fool could shoot one - crossbow themselves were very expensive. The poorer bannorns of the Fereldan coast, though, could easily supply the cheap longbows, and had plenty of bodies, archers trained since childhood, to draw from their traditionally seafaring people.

“Now, you go around the Kraken, and expose your flank, Alf. Trust me, this will work,” said John, already aboard the Selkie.

“Of course it will, John! Fuck if it won’t!”

“Maker preserve us!”, John bellowed, and rose his sword high above his head, shouting as loud as he could. “Revenge belongs to the Maker!”

“To the Maker!” the sailors, Junia included, shouted back.

“Full sail!”, he commanded, running towards the bow, where he would control the steering oar for the time being. And while running on next to him, and actually reaching for his support as the ship was rocked by a wave, Junia realized she had misjudged John. She could still see the naive man who knew nothing of death, who had led a life easy enough to learn how to respect her as woman and earn her heart. Back when escaping the monastery, she had seen the warrior, shouting beautiful things and killing thugs with little remorse and vying for glory. But the man who now held the steering oar had hate in his eyes. He looked fixedly ahead, shouting whatever orders with weird boat terms were needed. The only breaks in that killing countenance were the kind, loving looks he would divert to her direction eventually. And other than her stomach’s protests, Junia had somehow settled to the situation. She knew the Maker had closed her body, and every single sign in the past weeks pointed that He wanted her there. Even John’s family murder. The Maker wanted Junia in the Selkie, and nothing could happen to her.

The Selkie, as a cog, was a fat, bulgy vessel, but her prow and bow had castles - square wooden platforms resembling battlements, that were almost as tall as the Storm Giant and the Kraken - and definitely taller than a dromon. John didn’t need to maneuver too much. He led the Selkie through the troubled waters to within volley distance of the dromon guarding the Kraken’s flank - the one Junia had pointed out, having only crossbowmen as ranged units. The escort ship actually sent the first volley, but while their crossbowmen reloaded, the longbowmen of the Selkie started raining unrelenting death. Junia shouted and punched the air in celebration when she saw that, as expected, the escort ship started pivoting, aligning herself with the Selkie’s broadside.

Behind them, the drums of the Storm Giant could be heard, giving music to the storm’s thunder. The Selkie protected the Giant’s flank as she circled with all oars and sails to the other side of the Kraken.

“Keep at it!” Junia shouted, to John’s pleasure. The longbowman gave no reprieve to their deadly rain. The crossbowmen of the other vessel were not able to safely cock their weapons again for a renewed volley. Crossbows were over encumbering weapons, five feet long, and needing to be supported on steady ground and cocked with a foot. An impressive feat to be carried in a storm, under a barrage of arrows. These arrows rained from the Selkie with the storm, and it didn’t take long for the escort ship to decide to punish her for it. Her dozens of oars dipped, and at ramming speed, the drumming commanded them beat as fast as hearts.

“Steady…” John bellowed. “Steady…” he nodded at Junia, and she signaled to the men-at-arms hiding in the hull to come above to the deck. She was surprised when John held her face with both his hands and kissed her lips fiercely, the intense kiss of those about to dive into danger. The dwarf had never boarded another ship in her life before, but with her closed body and staying behind the men-at-arms shields, she knew she would be deadly.

But she fell and rolled down the deck, to be helped by one of the men-at-arms who knew what was coming: the dry sound of dozens of whips of lightning, creaking and crackling. The escort ship rammed the Selkie and Junia did not imagine it would feel worse than an earthquake. Most of the Selkie’s sailors had actually crouched. John had told her about it, but in the excitement, she forgot. The shockwave seemed to move back and forth, or maybe those were just the waves, but soon all were back at their feet and the men-at-arms started forming a line next to and with John, their round shields positioned in a defensive row about to burst.

“Charge!!! For revenge!!! Vengeance!!!” John and the men-at-arms poured at the escort ship’s deck, and the melee began. He was at the centre and at the first line of the attackers, his small eyes wide in a frenzy still to be told in the current tales, who only spoke of bravery and glory. No. John roared like a madman, enraging himself with each blow and strike. His sword was actually in his scabbard, and he was brandishing a battle axe, just like his fellow men-at-arms. In such close quarters, the sword wouldn’t have the space it needed to swing and dance. John and the men-at-arms would use the axe to hook shields and mail, to do precise, swift and short thrusts with its piked end. In that setting, Junia didn’t know exactly what to do, as John and the men-at-arms were keeping a concise line advancing through the deck, even with the rocking from the sea. She moved to the edge of the line, on the right hand side, and decide to harass their flank the best she could.

It seemed like they were pushing well, with neither side losing arrows not bolts as the fray was too close together to target foe and not friend. The Amaranthine line broke, and the Selkie’s men-at-arms pursued, undoing the shield line they were keeping. Junia, who had not been engaged with an enemy, was the first to pour through, and find all the enemy crossbowmen lined up for a counter volley that would certainly ravage a disorganized line.

“John!!!” She shouted at the same time she slid down on her hips to avoid the bolts “Shields, shields!!!”

John seemed to snap from his frenzy for a moment, and braced himself behind his shield as much as he could. “Hold! Hold!!! Shield wall!!!”

But it was too late, and the the crossbowmen loosed their volley, missing Junia, but taking much of the men-at-arms of the Selkie with their defenses down. Almost a third of them fell down, while John felt the sting of a bolt diving deep in his thigh and another one bursting the links of the hauberk over his right shoulder. “Archers!!!” he cried. “Now!!!”

With all the crossbowmen reloading, the archers of the Selkie were able to start their precision shots. At their own time, after taking their aim, any person with a crossbow who was found out of cover was put down. And a nimble, swift dwarf would put down those under cover, those too worried about staying there and trying to reload at the same time. John called the men-at-arms onto him, and with a renewed line, they swept the deck of the enemy dromon.

---

Alfstanna was stomping her feet on the prow of the Storm Giant, and turned with a vicious grin at the sailor at the steering oar. “Fuck me in the ass, you heard me! Portside north!” The man tried to protest and argued that the Kraken now had the wind on her stem and was aligning herself for ramming. That they were the flagship, and if they fell, the battle would be lost. That they were winning, and it was stupid. Alfstanna marched as a fuming bull towards the sailor who refused to follow orders, trespassed him with one quick sword thrust. At the crew’s surprise, she kicked him over the railing, and pointed at the monster looking straight at their broadside, her ram raising above the water as it clashed the high waves, the drums beating high as the Storm Giant’s lay as quiet as her retreated oars. “Archers, I want you losing everything on those bastards, at will! Knights and men-at-arms!” Bann Alfstanna closed her visor, straightened the shield in her arm and moved to the edge of the portside railing. “On me! Shield wall!!!”

The Storm Giant had a broad berth for her archers, protected behind the shield wall Bann Alfstanna and her fighters formed. Yet, the Kraken returned narrower volleys that would only delay the inevitable. “Steady, friends! Hold on!!!” The noise of bows lossing and thudding on the round wooden shields was louder than the storm. Under their feet, the deck shifted, as the oarsmen left their posts and ran to the opposite side of the ship.

She rammed right in. Junia was ecstatic, shouting and ready to board, John next to her growling and beckoning the men-at-arms with a voice more coarse than loud.

The Kraken’s hull rasped against the Storm Giant’s, forcing both galleys to pivot around each other. Rammed and lodged against the Kraken’s flank, the Selkie’s crew were pouring down from it’s high castles, and flooding the Kraken’s deck with a backstab they had not anticipated. Alfstanna raised from behind her shield wall and laughed out loud as she felt the battle frenzy wash over her. “It fucking worked! Hahahahahahaha!!! Take her, men!!! Charge! Charge!!! The Kraken is ours!!!”

The men of the Kraken could not withhold the attacks from two sides. Completely flanked, they fought as they could, but soon enough the deck was overran by the invaders, and the waves were made red with the onslaught that ensued. John and Junia had met Alfstanna, and the three of them made their way through the personal guard of the Kraken’s skipper: Thomas Howe, a beautiful young man with long blonde hair, his father’s beak nose, and desperate green eyes. When seeing that none in his retinue was spared, he dropped to his knees and raised his hands in surrender.

For a moment, John stopped, lowering both his shield and axe, panting heavily, still oblivious to the bolt protruding from his thigh. His eyes locked with Thomas’ for moment, and descended down to the blood soaked axe, dripping red amid the rain drops and the now red seafoam. He felt warm, blood stained hands on his shoulder, and his chest filled with murdering pride as he could hear the crimson waves say, through the fatherly smirk of the Reaper: “not now”. He let out a loud roar and, letting his axe drop and drawing his sword, lunged at Thomas.

“Please! Spare me!” Thomas begged as John tugged his hair back and exposed his throat.

“Have you spared my sister?!” John headbutted Thomas’s nose, and Thomas fell to the deck staining it redder. He moaned a renewed plea, and tried to look up, but found Junia’s boot instead. Alfstanna picked him from the floor and held him by his armpits, her hands meeting behind his neck. She laughed in pleasure as she saw John approach, even though she could not recognize the man behind those frenzied eyes.

“Answer me, you fuck! HAVE YOU SPARED MY NEPHEW?!” John shouted at Thomas’ face, adding droplets of spit to the blood and the rain. And the pounding began. One of after the other, John’s mailed fists fell into Thomas’ face, drawing a shout of joy from the onlooking crew with each blow. Junia, among them, was happy to see John take a morsel of the vengeance he was entitled to. And she admitted to herself, without a single scratch after the battle: she liked the man the Maker had given her. She no longer could call him a tournament knight. He was a warrior, ready to kill in battle, who knew the dirt and not the glory and who would take revenge instead of offering the other cheek. A right man, as the Maker commands. And a man who now needed her, as he was clearly out of his mind.

“John! John, please stop, you will kill him!” intervened Junia, as Thomas’ face seemed to be leaking all over the deck floor. Alfstanna’s laughter still rang loud. John raised his fist for another blow, but Junia held him. “My love, please. If you kill him, he is no good to you. Make him a hostage. Ramson him, or use him as leverage.”

Junia’s voice snapped John out of his frenzied state, and, wide-eyed, looking at the kind love in the dwarf’s large dark eyes, his breath slowed down. Junia continued. “I know that they didn’t give you the same courtesy. But the Maker makes do with no fools, eh? We keep him alive, we will get way more out of his family than by force only.”

John didn’t reply. He simply dove at Junia and dug his face in her neck, sobbing uncontrollably for a few instants. That didn’t go unnoticed by Alfstanna, who, still keeping her grasp on a barely conscious Thomas, smiled in approval. John recomposed himself slowly and laid a soft kiss on Junia’s lips. But he managed to make his coarse voice raise high.

“They did not spare my sister! They did not spare my nephew! They DO NOT deserve the honor of nobleman, and they DO NOT deserve any chivalrous courtesy!” John made a pause, and looked at the men and women all around him, who shouted accordance. “Take down their flag from the mast. And hang HIM there!”

The crew and fighters all rejoiced and celebrated as they ripped the Amaranthine pennants from the main masts of the Kraken. That alone was enough to send a wave of renewed energy to the other vessels fighting all over those waters. The second escort ship, which was on her way to join the fray, upon seeing that the Kraken had been captured, turned tail and fled. The last blow was dealt to the remainder of the Amaranthine fleet when they saw the shaking, seizuring body of a naked Thomas Howe be hoisted high above the once proud Kraken.

---

Minutes later, the Selkie had managed to dislodge herself from the Kraken, and Alfstanna was returning to the Storm Giant. John would skipper the damaged Kraken back to the Storm Coast’s shores. He was sitting in a barrel, allowing Junia to work on removing the bolt from his leg. The storm had subdued to a faint downpour. The bann approached them. “That was amazing, John, really, Fearchar’s grandson! That was great!”

John nodded with a kind, tired smile, while Junia observed. At that very moment, she experience a mixture of intense attraction and admiration to the strong woman who commanded fleets. Again, she felt like in a few years, she would be Alfstanna. And the Maker’s plan would be complete. “I thank you, Alf. If you hadn’t taken the opportunity…”

“Nah, nevermind. I will sail to capture a whole fleet any day in the year. But just one thing you might have gotten wrong.” Alfstanna continued when she saw the picked attention of dwarf and human. “Your sister is not dead. You sister survived.”

“What?”

“She is heading down to Ostagar. A Grey Warden named Duncan recruited her as payment for him having saved her life. They left Westridge Keep just as we set sail.”

#blood and dust #john cousland #junia cadash #warden #inquisitor #warden cousland #inquisitor cadash #fereldan civil war #cousland #howe #sea battle #medieval battle #medieval #historical accuracy #johnia #alfstanna #bann alfstanna

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pilotabjones-blog · 6 years ago

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april 23, 2019 9:38am i used to wake up every single morning when i was a junior in high school by listening to wake up by fetty wap. i'm not sure why but i just know it made me feel a way that i really liked. i used to smoke a looooot of weed back then so that song was always just the best way to get my day started. i used to feel like i HAD to smoke before leaving my house. i don't even smoke at my house anymore that's fucking sketch. but 16 year old me didn't give a fuck. well today my morning is not starting in the ways they did back then. if it was, it'd be 6:00am not 9:30am. i'd be blonde with a fat tan and definitely not even awake yet. i used to love to wait until i absolutely had to get up. i never woke makeup back then so it made it pretty easy. i got up at around 6:30 finally and put on whatever loose clothing i had, brushed my teeth & hair, took some rips & then left my house with probably 2 minutes before the bell rang. i had a zero period which was p.e that started at 6:59am. i almost never got there before 7:10. it was a bad habit but i was lit and it was 6am so cut me some slack. i never actually stayed the entire class either. i had two friends in that class (we'll call them S & G). S & i had never actually been friends before this class. i knew who she was but never had a conversation with her. i had no clue g even existed until this class. but we got so close so fast. we would always sneak out through the back door of the gym go to our little spot behind the tennis courts and just smoke together until first period. i look back on it and i was sooo reckless and should've probably gone to class. but i passed with a lovely B- and i got two cool ass friends. this was my morning routine every day of my first semester as a junior. but today isn't like then. i'm not 16 anymore without a license just smoking with my friends skipping class because it was free school. no today i'm 19 working later today at 1:30 until 6:30 at my job that i don't love nor hate. i'm not going to class because i don't want to pay for classes i hate. when back then i skipped the ones i liked that were free. i think with my morning i'm going to clean my room and house while my phone charges because i forgot to plug in to the charger last night. then afterwards i might go to the gym because i have been super duper lazy. after the gym i'll come home get ready & leave to whole foods for my lunch & then take some bongrips then go spend 5 hours at my job probably hating my life. lol. i think i have to enjoy days like today where i get to do what i like because maybe two years from now i'll be here writing a post about a different song i used to play every morning like this one. i'll talk about how life was now and how i miss it. that's the problem. you always miss life because of how it used to be or who was in your life then. but we shouldn't. in the office where andy bernard says "the weird thing is now i'm exactly where i want to be. i've got my dream job at cornell, and i'm still just thinking about my old pals. only now they're the ones i made here. i wish there was a way to know you're in "the good old days", before you've actually left them." (season 9, episode 23). just a thought to start the day. i'm going to try to make it a good one. my favorite quote for that is pitbull "but everyday above ground is a great day". pitbull a lyrical god. not really i just think a lot about that one. lol. okay i really have to just get up and do something. p.j

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cfijerusalem · 6 years ago

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Watching Over Zion Report 10th January 2019 (5th Shevat 5779)

THE WORD

Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. (Jeremiah 17: 7-8). In that day you will say: “I will praise you, Lord. Although you were angry with me, your anger has turned away and you have comforted me. Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defence; He has become my salvation.” With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. (Isaiah 12; 1-3).

POINTERS FOR PRAYER

We are already two weeks into 2019, but are we really ready to face another year? One of the roles of Christian Friends of Israel is to be pro-active rather than re-active. There have been many stories that have come to my attention over the past two weeks that would have been easy to react to. However, I feel it will be even more important through 2019 to “choose ones battles carefully”. Pray that as we press forward in our stand with Israel, that we would all have great wisdom and discernment, and that all our actions would be led by the LORD God. Please pray that we would have ears to hear, and hearts open to the areas the Lord wants us to be effective in.

Please do continue to pray for the ongoing situation within Gaza.Pray that justice would be done, and that Israelis living in and around Sderot and the Negev would be allowed to live free from terror attacks.

It was good to read CFI Jerusalem’s Watchmen’s Prayer Letter for January 2019. As Sharon Sanders asks, “Proclaim God’s word that He has planted many Bible-believing families in Judea and Samaria, families that are staying put on the land that they believe God has given to them as a nation. Thank God for this wonderful remnant who believe in His faithfulness. “I will plant Israel in their own land, never again to be uprooted from the land I have given them, says the LORD your God” (Amos 9:15). As radical Islam continues its attempts to uproot Israel, pray that the Jews will never be taken away from God’s ingathering of them back to their homeland.” Sharon also asks each of us to “Search the Bible for the many promises God made to Israel in her historical past, and for her glorious future. “Not one of all the LORD's good promises to the house of Israel failed; everyone was fulfilled” (Joshua 21:45). God does not change and His promises to Israel will not change.”

News has come in that the Golan Heights have had a heavy snow fall. For a full report on this, click here. Praise God for this and the seasonal rain that has begun to fall in Israel. I’ve had many reports of how wet and cold Jerusalem is at the moment. The nation desperately needs abundant rain this year. Keep praying “Then I will send rain on your land in its season.” (Deuteronomy 11:14).

LOOK TO THE SOURCE OF OUR PROVISION

[Above photo from Google photos]

Shalom to you all, and a very happy New Year. Here's praying 2019 will be a good year to each of you.

The holiday break is now well and truly over, the constant ringing of the phone over the past few days appears to want to make up for lost time, and the emails have come in thick and fast. I have tried ever so hard to miss the news programmes on TV these past couple of weeks, and we did manage to get a decent walk in around Lake Ullswater in Cumbria during our break. However, no matter how hard I tried, the news still sneaked in - and let's face it, turn your back for five minutes and it's amazing what one can miss... or at least try to!

However, I’ve also enjoyed reading some of my new books, including tackling a wonderful new Bible – The Israel Bible (Israel 365) which highlights the Scriptures regarding Israel being back in the land (thanks to Matthew :) ). One passage that has spoken to me in particular is the above Scripture from Jeremiah 17 (which I’ll come back to shortly). However, I’ve also enjoyed dipping into old books like Charles Dickens, and books from my childhood like ‘The Narnian Chronicles’.

I must admit, I love C. S. Lewis’s books (both children’s and adults). Here’s a wonderful quote from one of his books: “Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion. "I am dying of thirst," said Jill. "Then drink," said the Lion. "May I — could I — would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill. The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience… "Will you promise not to — do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill. "I make no promise," said the Lion… "Do you eat girls?" she said… "I daren't come and drink," said Jill. "Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion. "Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then." "There is no other stream," said the Lion.” …so she began scooping up the water in her hand… it was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted…” (C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair).

Thinking about what’s ahead, without doubt this year for Israel could be another very difficult twelve months. Which means, those of us who continue to stand with Israel, will find we need to drink even deeper from the well of our spiritual source to keep battling on – and remember, there is no other stream! Charles Spurgeon once wrote, "If our piety can live without God it is not of divine creating; it is but a dream; for if God had begotten it, it would wait upon him as the flowers wait upon the dew. Without constant restoration we are not ready for the perpetual assaults of hell, or the stern afflictions of heaven, or even for the strifes within. When the whirlwind shall be loosed, woe to the tree that hath not sucked up fresh sap, and grasped the rock with many intertwisted roots. When tempests arise, woe to the mariners that have not strengthened their mast, nor cast their anchor, nor sought the haven." As the flowers wait upon the dew, are we drinking from the right stream, like a tree planted by the water (Jeremiah 17:8)? The question is, are we really ready to face another year? Are we ready to battle on being "the watchman"?

I’m sure you will know this, but the Hebrew words translated "watchman" are natsar, shmar and tsaphah. Tsaphah is to "lean forward and peer into the distance". The connection to prayer should be obvious. The watchman looks ahead, "peering into the distance," to foresee the attacks of the enemy. He is pro-active, not re-active. This is prophetic intercession. And this is one of the great roles of Christian Friends of Israel. As we sharpen our swords, and dust down our shields, let us be ready for whatever lies ahead, and pray too that Israel would look to the true source of their provision - the LORD God of Israel.

A MONTH IN WHICH WE REMEMBER

[Above photo: David Soakell at the grave of Oskar Schindler, Jerusalem. Israel.]

For those who stand with Israel, the months of December and January can seem miles apart. One moment we can have the joy of Chanukah and Christmas and lights, and then suddenly we are plunged into the dark days of a wintery January and concentrate on the difficult but much needed remembrance of the Holocaust. Throughout January 2019 many events are taking place to remember the Shoah (The Holocaust).

As I reported many times in the past, anti-Semitic incidents have soared in the past three years and in 2018 Europe was at its highest point with anti-Semitism since the 1930s. And I don’t even want to mention the large issues of anti-Semitism in the UK Labour party and other political areas! Yet even during the Holocaust, there were a few people who tried to bring hope… people like Corrie Ten Boom ~ a Dutch Christian, who hid the Jews in her home and prayed, “Lord Jesus, I offer myself for Your people. In any way. Any place. Any time.” Although Corrie Ten Boom survived, she did end up in a concentration camp because of her actions. Then there is the German Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was killed by the Germans for opposing them in their hatred of the Jews. Meep Gies was another brave and heroic lady who stood firm against the wrath of the Nazis to feed, clothe and hide Anne Frank and her family during the Holocaust. And of course, we all know of the brave acts of Oskar Schindler, who saved hundreds of Jews from certain death. Yet the names are few and far between. But at least we can find a tiny chink of light… and that gives hope.

For those who really know me, you’ll know that I grew up with parents who used to be semi-pro racing cyclists… in fact I used to race as well – one of my most gruelling rides was a 100 mile ride that had ‘Tan Hill’ – which has the highest pub in Britain – as the half-way mark. My favourite cyclist used to be the French champion, Bernard Hinault, who won the Tour de France five times. These days, with the Team Sky revolution, things have changed, which means that Nibali is now the only non-Briton to have won the Tour de France since 2011 – indeed today the UK has many great cyclists including Bradley Wiggins, Chris Froome, Mark Cavendish, Adam Yates and of course Geraint Thomas, who won the Tour de France last year in 2018. However, one of my parent’s favourite cyclists was an Italian rider names Gino Bartali.

Bartali won the gruelling Tour de France twice, once prior to and once after World War Two. But the true heroism of Bartali’s actions went far beyond his greatness of being a racing cyclist champion, as he used his sporting fame to help save the lives of many Jewish people. Born outside Florence in rural Tuscany in 1914, Bartali grew up in poverty. However, he quickly became very famous in Italy, hailed the ‘King of Cycling’ and his 1938 win of the Tour de France was thought by many to be the start of a very long reign at the top of the cycling world. But when war broke out in Europe in 1939, Bartali was conscripted into military service as a bike messenger and it was in this role that he truly began to take a secret stand against Nazi rule.

When Germany occupied Italy in 1943, nearly 10,000 Jews were deported to concentration camps, 7,000 of them dying there. Many more survived however, thanks to the efforts of Italian officials in obstructing deportations. Safe in the knowledge that many of the soldiers manning checkpoints were fans of his, Bartali used his position as a messenger and reputation as a cyclist to help Jewish people. Responding to the request of the Catholic Cardinal of Florence, a close friend, Bartali began to transport counterfeit identity documents between Florence and Assisi where they were printed covertly. Bartali undertook at least 40 long rides, often between Florence and Assisi as part of this underground mission, hiding his cargo in his bike’s frame and handlebars. He would also pick up money from a Swiss Bank account in Genoa to distribute to Jewish people hiding in Florence. As if this wasn’t risky enough, Bartali hid his Jewish friend Giacomo Goldenberg and his family in his apartment and then a nearby basement.

Bartali knew he risked imprisonment and death by his actions and was fearful for his life and for those of his family, but he also knew that this was far outweighed by the importance of doing the right thing and helping those in need. For a long time after the war, Bartali’s exploits in saving Jewish people remained a secret at his insistence. However, amongst several other posthumous honours, Gino Bartali was finally declared ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ by Yad Vashem in Israel in 2010. In his own words to his son Andrea Bartali, he stated, “If you’re good at a sport, they attach the medals to your shirt and then they shine in some museum. That which is earned by doing good deeds is attached to the soul and shines elsewhere.” As we face uncertain times, and as we know that we are living in an age where anti-Semitism is as high as the 1930s, what good deeds can we do that will be attached to our soul to shine elsewhere?

HMD IN THE UK

Throughout the UK some of our CFI Regional Links are hosting Holocaust Exhibitions and doing speaking engagements.

In Essex, Moira Dare Edwards is marking International Holocaust Memorial Day 2019 with a joint initiative of Christian Friends of Israel and Tikvah Chadasha Synagogue (Shenfield & Brentwood) supported by Brentwood Borough Council. This takes place on Thursday 24th January 9:30 - 4.00pm, Friday 25th 9:30 - 4:00pm & Saturday 26th Jan 10:30 - 1pm. at the United Reformed Church, New Road, CM14 4GD (opposite Brentwood Library). On Thursday 24th & Friday 25th from 11am – 12 you can hear Ruth Barnett who was born in Berlin, Germany and arrived in England on the Kindertransport. Her book "Person of No Nationality" portrays the struggles of a displaced person searching for her identity, reflecting this year’s theme “Torn from Home”. Groups larger than 6 should contact Moira on 01277 213243/email: [email protected] (as seating is limited). Then there is a meeting of Commemoration on Saturday 26th January at 6.30pm in The Main Hall of Brentwood County High School, Seven Arches Road, Shenfield Common, Brentwood CM14 4JF.

In the West Midlands, Dave Walker (CFI Regional Link) will be holding a Holocaust Memorial Service of Recollection at Providence Methodist Church, Windmill Hill, Cradley, Halesowen B63 2LA on Saturday January 26th at 7.00pm. There will be an offering taken during the service for ''Forsake Them Not'' CFI Project in Israel for Holocaust Survivors. Dave Walker has also been invited to Gig Mill Methodist Church, Glebe Lane, Stourbridge, DY8 3YG on Sunday 27th of January at 6-30pm to speak on ''The Holocaust.'' Contact [email protected] for further details.

In North Yorkshire, CFI’s Glynis Brookes is hosting ‘Lest We Forget’ – a Holocaust Memorial Service on Saturday 26th January from 2.00pm – 4pm (with refreshments) at Hollybush Christian Fellowship, Newsham, Thirsk YO7 4DH and a short film will be shown, along with CFI’s David Soakell speaking. Contact [email protected] for more details.

And currently, in Scotland, CFI’s Philip Aitchison has a Holocaust Exhibition running until February at the Hawick Public Library on North Bridge Street, Hawick, TD9 9QT. For details contact Philip at [email protected]

Amazingly, a record number of people visited the former Nazi concentration camp Auschwitz in 2018. British people continued to be the second largest group to come to the memorial in Poland, making up more than an eighth of the 2,152,000 international visitors last year. More than a million men, women and children died in the extermination camp in occupied Poland during the Second World War. Some 281,000 people from the UK walked through its gates in 2018 to learn about its history.

LABOUR MP’S CONDEMNS UK’S FUNDING TO PALESTINIANS

Terrorist activity led by Hamas in Gaza continues, while the Palestinian Authorities leader, Abbas, ignores advice to stop giving Palestinian terrorists money whilst serving prison sentences. Meanwhile, Dame Louise Ellman of the UK Labour party has condemned as a 'scandal' the UK’s money for funding Palestinian textbooks that incite murder of Israelis. Dame Louise Ellman, vice-chair of the Labour Friends of Israel (LFI), told the House of Commons that young Palestinian minds were currently “being poisoned” and “the opportunity for Britain to help promote the values of peace, reconciliation and coexistence squandered.” Dame Louise was speaking as she introduced her International Development Assistance (Values Promoted in Palestinian National Authority Schools) Bill to the Commons on Tuesday. The MP for Liverpool Riverside said: "This is not about a peaceful future. It is a scandal."

Supported by LFI chair Joan Ryan and Labour’s Ian Austin and Rachel Reeves, Dame Louise added: “Five-year-olds were taught the word for 'martyr' as part of their first lessons in Arabic. Eleven-year-olds taught that martyrdom and jihad are 'the most important meanings of life'. These lessons in hate are all-pervasive, infesting every aspect of the curriculum.” The Jewish Chronicle has the full report here.

NIKKI HALEY LEAVES THE UN WITH AN EPIC SPEECH

Israel will never forget what Nikki Haley did for them in the UN. In just 2 years, she completely changed the norms and demanded change from the UN regarding Israel. She understood that the only way to deal with the UN from the seat of the US Ambassador to the UN was to use strength. The UN is filled with one country after another that spreads lies about Israel and the United States. Israel appears to be the world’s punch bag at the UN. Hopefully, Nikki Haley has achieved some changes there. Haley has certainly set a high standard for all future US ambassadors to the UN. To watch her final rousing speech at the UN click here:

David Soakell Media Correspondent Tweet me @David_Soakell

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nessietessimalnua · 6 years ago

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SCORE - research notes

SCORE: A FILM MUSIC DOCUMENTARY

Marco Beltrami - PIANO TUNES WITH THE WIND - MALIBU (LOOK INTO): Sound travels through the wire faster than the air, results in a reverse echo - no effect needed (find film used for) - The gunman - columba (instrument), intrigue - following a mystery,

ROCKY

Jon Burlingham, film music historian - Leonard something or other Bill Field, organist - Wurlitzer

MAX STEINER - king kong - orchestra music in a movie?? It completely changed the movie - what was before unexciting and studied became terrifying with the addition of music

ALFRED NEWMAN - horns and woodwinds - 20th century fox logo

David Newman - a flow, like speaking: it fluctuates

John Debney

James Cameron - spot session, trying to communicate the sound they hear in their heads, etc. - most directors don't know how to convert emotions into music, so the composer has to act as a 'therapist and go through the mish-mash

BEAR MCCREARY - try to figure out what their insecurities are first,

MERVYN WARREN

MYCHAEL DANNA

HANS ZIMMER - always the blank page,

RACHEL PORTMAN - change in the direction in the scene, often a prompt for when music will come in (quote);

CHRISTOPHE BECK -

Joseph Trapanese - invent a clever way of introducing something familiar

Motif - group of notes that might highlight what a film is (close encounters)

Beethoven - took a motif/theme, spin it out : 5th symphony

Simple hooks, feels like a pop song, casting them in different lights

HOWARD SHORE: "by using motifs, it helps you to understand the relationships in the story - when you hear a certain motif, you connect it, and it actually helps you follow the story." LOTR AS AN EXAMPLE "By the time you get to the end of the film, when you play that music in its full glory, it's already familiar to the audience. We're kind of building our way up to that main course."

ALEX NORTH - a streetcar named desire (background of ballets and shows - first film score incorporating jazz in writing)

The Pink panther,

JOHN BARRY - James Bond. Came from a band - band sensibility to movies,

big band was cool, swung, felt like a guy that could do anything - no spy/secret services without a reference to James Bond, just like Morricone with spaghetti westerns

ENNIO MORRICONE - Kill you with a melody - The good the bad and the ugly: guitar into the western environment - still the sounds of westerns 50/60 years later

BERNARD HERRMANN - THEME FROM VERTIGO: mystery - little phrases that circular madness to them that worked really well - everything driving you forward in a sick, disastrous way

psycho - tricked you into thinking you saw way more of the violent acts in the scene that actually occurred

TOM HOLKENBURG -

HEITOR PEREIRA

MARK MOTHERSBURG - rugrats on a toy piano

Any instrument is valid if it improves the music

Anything can be music

hurdygurdy - instrument

DARIO MARIANELLI

PARTICK DOYLLE

TRY TO FIND THE GENERAL RHYTHM IN THE SCENE - SEVEN MONTHS PRODUCING THE SCORE, DIFFERENT TYPES OF DRUMS (MAD MAX) - DRUMS UNIQUELY RECORDED, COMBINING TRACKS, AGGRESSIVE, - " don't care what it is, if I make a track, it has to i’ve me goosebumps myself"

"Goosebumps"

PROF. SIU-LAN TAN: different aspects of music are processed by systems in the brain - multifaceted - melody pitch, tempo and rhythm, -- physiological reaction - reward center, dopamine, react to music. Film music and orchestral music is of great interest to scientists because of it's ability to emote: film music isn’t something we pay conscious attention to and yet it has such a powerful impact on us - an audience's eyes can be drawn to different parts of the screen with music that matches certain characteristics being shown on the screen - for example a rising pitch with something that's rising: UP - first time we see the balloons - important visual motif and theme - interesting to see that music can be part of the choreography of our eye movements ET - Vast expansive music with the taking off of the space ship - go from big music to small - reminding us who's going into the spaceship, it's very sad, these are farewells - this fanfare that's very triumphant, saying we're looking at it from Elliot's view point, it's not a loss, it's almost like saying "Mission accomplished" - film music, so powerful, so un-captureable to scientists

QUINCY JONES - everything you see, you here (used to be) - eyes doing the same things the ear was doing

JERRY GOLDSMITH - planet of the apes: using modern techniques, reapplied it into drama - rubber balls being bounced in bowls, metal bowls, CHINATOWN - four pianos, etc. - ballsy

RANDY NEWMAN

JOHN WILLIAMS - jazz pianist - JAWS - crazy experiment - engine, accelerate - if we didn’t have that theme, we wouldn't know what was happening - spots and places music in the movie - only wanted music to announce the arrival of the shark STAR WARS - huge impact - theme - symphonic score, rediscovered the classical orchestral film score, good and bad, beautiful themes for romance and heroes, the Darth Vader theme - so marshal and broad - "oh boy there’s something not good here"; helps discern characters SUPERMAN theme - krypton theme: mysterious, av-ante garde, way of surrounding pieces with other pieces INDIANA JONES raiders of the lost ark - spends more time on those small bits of musical grammar so they seem inevitable - plethora of parts ET - film music has changed because film has changed, what it needs to do - end of ET - wide space of just music, JURASSIC PARK -

air studios - pick a studio ‘cus it's appropriate to the sort of sound you want to make - churches - haunted, etc. DAVID ARNOLD. - CASINO ROYALE - acoustics, choice - hundreds of mics - how close/how far you wanna feel from the music.

ABBEY ROAD STUDIOS - live sound, less absorbent material on the walls - great reverb, Beatles, Return of the Jedi, lord of the rings, mission impossible - different layouts for different sounds - Rogue Nation, changing music at different cuts to fix problems/change it up

film making styles have changed, so has film music

19702 - synthesizers and punk

DANNY ELFMAN - short musical ideas that become big musical ideas - Tim Burton, batman - only one rule: there are no rules -

THOMAS NEWMAN - difficult to develop what the sound it - like Danny elf man, developed his own sound - Shaw shank Redemption. American Beauty - marimba, sets the tone of the film, sets you a little off balance, captured the way of ding uncertainty - establish a key center, things will then weave in and around that baseline - creates a texture that lives behind the orchestra, yes could write orchestral scores, but sometimes a film needs something more intimate. prevailing mood, slap it on an image and let it sit for 2 minutes - cold, emotive piano

HANS ZIMMER: unconventional rock swagger to film screen - GLADIATOR - brutality, violence where the notes are placed, intensity - woman's vocals over the orchestra - shaped cinema - took the string section and made it like a guitar - they're playing rhythm - PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN - like led zepplin payed by an orchestra; DARK KNIGHT - blurred the line between giant symphonic and orchestral - constant pulse - powerful, exciting - INCEPTION - it's like a new morning, washes over you in waves, music just piles up - left with a big question.

People who aren't film composers being asked to make film scores - can bring so much authenticity to sound music - sounds are extremely contemporary - SOCIAL NETWORK - disturbing lyrical piano - human and technical, emotionally dark, - ATTICUS ROSS and TRENT RIZZLER

unconventional image and unconventional sound - so much greater than the sum of their arts beautiful chaos far more experimentation, freedom, Technology has made it possible for every composer to be a producer - at the core of it is the tune

STEVE JABLONSKY - Lockdown theme - first introduces french horns into the score, mixing them up a bit, bringing texture to the piece, you want your intention to be clear - the horns give it more of an emotional weight - you want to make sure the emotions you mean to grab the audience are strong enough, make bold statement

ALEXANDER BELSPATT

FOX STUDIOS - LA, stronger sound, London, softer sound -

HARRY GREGSON-WILLIAMS -

WARNER BROS. STUDIOS - JOHN (PAUL??) DEBNY -

music - the most human and emotive thing we have

ELLIOT GOLDENTHAL

BRIAN TYLER - if everything was perfect in music, everything would sound terrible - fast and furious 6 - you can feel when a cue is working the audience - goes to watch audience reactions when watching the movie, helps him for future films - get a sense of how did this work, do they scenes move people - will run into a bathroom stall, will see if anyone is humming or whistling the theme - feels like he affected them on a level they're not aware of -

TYLER BATES

MOBY - the one art form that doesn't technically exist - you can't put your finger on music - it's just air waves moving a little differently

Film music being used outside of film - Remember the Titans - Obama, whatever the audience felt in the theater was resonant again

HANS ZIMMER - LAST PEOPLE ON EARTH THAT FREQUENTLY COMMISSION ORCHESTRAL PIECES - WITHOUT THEM, ORCHESTRAL MUSIC WOULD DISAPPEAR, WOULD BE A CULTURAL LOSS TO HUMANITY, - we all have fragility, when i play you a piece of music, i completely expose myself, and that's a very scary moment - i love i love i love what I do -

music plays such an important role in a film

film music i one of the great art form of the 20th and 21st century

RYAN TAUBERT - SCORE

James Horner - titanic - sketch out on synthesizer

#research #research report #year 3 #ba3a

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