William may as well be a really socially awkward man, for the lack of a better phrase, at least in hugh society events. And no one can convince me otherwise.
'Cause this guy really decided the best, and perhaps his only, way to interact with the noblewoman was giving a math lecture
AT A TEA PARTY
Also not all these ladies just casually bringing in mathematical questions for him to solve at a tea party. They probably know math is the only way they can converse with him at great length. (I doubt high society knows of any of William's interests aside from math, and that's only because it's his well-known profession).
184 notes
·
View notes
Squid glass dip pens!
I didn't get much torch time this summer so instead of trying to churn out a bunch of the same old I decided to learn a new skill. I haven't perfected it yet but I'm getting there.
3K notes
·
View notes
Grian had taken her aside quietly. He'd awkwardly talked around the idea of her remembering now; apparently, he didn't know if her victory counted. She'd rubbed the back of her head and hadn't quite realized what he was talking about and said something about the games and, ah. Apparently she does remember now. Apparently the victory counts. Apparently this means he needs to say sorry.
Cleo considers not accepting the apology. Grian would get the wrong idea then. If she said: you don't need to apologize for shit, or maybe, there's nothing to apologize for, he'd take that as: you are exactly as bad as you're convinced you are. Honestly, Cleo's not sure whether that means Grian would decide he'd done nothing wrong or everything, but that's besides the point.
She'd never not remembered, is the point.
Frankly, Cleo hadn't realized people were meant to be not remembering. She's honestly a bit embarrassed not to have figured it out. Surely that can't be right. Cleo has held every single slight and every single ally and every single person she has ever connected to right in her ribcage, next to where her carved-out, unbeating, torn-up heart lies, the entire time these games have gone on. Each game, a new fact carved into the bone that makes them up.
Names ribbon around her memories. Bdubs and the Crastle and Scott and soulmates and Pearl and friend-turned-foe and Etho and survivor and Bigb and traitor and Scar and son and everything else. She wouldn't be the same at all if she didn't remember. Everything she is, it's built on top of everyone that was.
Maybe it's a zombie thing. The undead are said to be memories that can't fade as much as anything else, after all.
But she can't really explain this to Grian, of course. If nothing else, that would require explaining the place he's taken next to her heart, too, and frankly, that's way too mushy for the both of them. What ends up coming out her mouth is: "Oh. Does that really change anything?"
Grian stares at her a moment.
"You know, I guess not?" he says.
"Right then," Cleo says. "Cool. Good to know my victory means nothing then."
Grian squawks. "You can't just say it like that! That's depressing!"
Good enough.
She buries 'not-supposed-to-remember' 'not-sure-if-it-counts' 'laughing-as-scott-dies' and 'I-have-always remembered' in the same place in her ribcage, so she won't forget it, and then she does the thing that sets her apart from the common zombie:
She moves on.
1K notes
·
View notes
Thinking about how, at the end of the day, at the fatal moment, the sunset of the Republic, it wasn’t Yoda, or Obi-Wan, or even the Chosen One himself standing in the way of Palpatine. It was Mace Windu.
Mace Windu, the inventor of Vaapad and Master of Form VII, the Jedi's strongest duelist, the only person to ever defeat Palpatine in combat. Mace Windu, Master of the Jedi Council and the youngest Master ever appointed to it, the revered leader of the Order. Mace Windu, who forgave even those who tried to kill him, who risked his life over and over again for his troops, who, after 3 years of desperate war, tried to negotiate with battle droids. Mace Windu, who knew the clones were created by the Sith and chose to trust them, who saw every Shatterpoint in the Republic, and loved it still, and fought for it until his last breath, until he was betrayed by Anakin, who he believed in and trusted despite everything.
Mace Windu, High General and hero of the Republic, the embodiment of the Light, the last and greatest champion of the Order, the best Jedi to ever live.
786 notes
·
View notes
I've been slowly tweaking these designs for a couple of weeks now, and now I can finally introduce the Uncles, the colorful group of friends/roommates who raised Hed and Les (word "raised" used loosely, but they definitely shared the living space with them).
From left to right: Kymani, Bramble, Adewale, Benji, Jenga, and Licorice "Ish" with his boys. Let's say Hed and Les are 15 and 19 here, maybe a year older, which means the rest are only in their mid 30s.
170 notes
·
View notes