#custom doll maker near me

[thisisblythecom]

Martha is Looking for a New family, Best Opportunity for Adopt Her:

[janamelie]

Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel.  Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required.  (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con.  There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once.  He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot.  What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration.  Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage.  She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets.  The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree.  It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online.  It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.  

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo.  You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie.  DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!”  Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!”  When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two?  That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying.  (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment.  This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”.  Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic.  Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining.  The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I).  He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.  

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it.  He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes.  Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party.  But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke.  Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke?  And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas.  He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon.  We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start.  An hour later we were still waiting.  Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop.  You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see.  Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left.  That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up).  This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe.  Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell.  I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy.  He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things.  He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!”  But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are.  He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!”  (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!”  He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc.  It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie.  Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online.  It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness.  Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit.  He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family.  His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”.  He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig.  No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question.  Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration.  He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat.  This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day.  “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out.  If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett.  I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful.  She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly.  Fortunately mine was the version including him. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees.  Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen.  I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle.  Oh well.  He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition.  This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”.  Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details.  Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item.  This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman.  It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel.  When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality.  We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed.  Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else.  The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end.  The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well.  Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.  

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse.  Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now!  Stop saying yes to things!”  It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit.  Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings.  One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode.  He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him.  Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright.  He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it.  He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance.  Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes.  Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir?  Were you on the telly last night?”  “Yes.”  “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later?  Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny.  Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them.  That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman.  Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes.  Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.  

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.”  What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie!  One episode, that’s all I ask.  As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson.  For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour.  For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping.  Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel.  So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them.  There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!”  It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was.  He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station.  Another great DJ.

[rayne-storm]

AUgust 16 - Joker - Fantasy

Title: Miracle Maker

Fandom: Void's Enigmatic Mansion

Implied Duke/Lavelle

Welcome back to Rayne's Obscure Interests Emporium. Today we take a look at a fairy-tale version of the already fantastical "Void's Enigmatic Mansion," an incredible series that I highly recommend.

Long ago and far away, in a time and place that was both completely alike and not at all similar to our own, there lived a simple young woodcarver. He made many things, from cabinets to coffins to closet doors, but his deepest love was in sculpting delicate figures, so lifelike one would swear they say the creations breathing.

One day, the woodcarver had a knock at his door. Now this on its own wasn't too peculiar, regardless of how remote his little cottage was at the edge of town. What caused him to take pause was the manner of the knocking. Every person knocks on a door differently, and if you have never been able to observe this, I promise it's true. The meek folk tend to knock quietly, as though they could cause disruption merely by touching their fists to the surface of a door. The mighty knock loudly, announcing their presence in every meeting of knuckle to wood.

This knock was self-important. A sharp series of three "knock-knock-knocks" introduced the waiting party as someone who was important, if only to themselves.

Still, never one to be inhospitable, the woodcarver made his way to the door.

A man stood before him, robed in fine blacks and reds, with skin like snow and lips like rubies. The woodcarver bowed his head in respect at the clearly fine status of the man before him, inviting him inside.

The man took three steps, just as grandiose and self-important as the knocks at the door had been, and gazed about the small abode. It was neat and tidy, but not uninvitingly so. It was lived-in, but well-kept. The important man smirked.

"I am told you grant wishes."

That caused the carver to pause.

"I am so sorry, sir, but, did you say-"

"Yes. I did. Wishes of wood, figurines so real that one could scarcely believe they weren't."

"I… I suppose, yes I do."

"Good. I have a wish for you, then."

To say the woodcarver wasn't curious would be a lie. But he had enough wisdom in his young body to know that wishes often led to regret. Still… there was something in the eyes of this man that whispered of secrets, and far be it from the carver to disappoint a potential customer.

"What would you like?"

The man reached into a suit pocket and pulled out a neatly rolled paper, and presented its contents: the portrait of a beautiful young girl.

"Can you create her likeness?"

"I suppose I could try, yes. How small would you like it?"

"The size of a child, of course. You're granting a wish, not capturing some somber memory."

The carver was taken aback. He had never crafted something so large and so intricate as a child. He had never even thought to. But… well, now he was presented with a challenge.

"I will do my best, I can promise no more."

"I will return in one year's time to check on you. Will that be enough?"

"I think so, yes, but we'll know when it comes."

"That we will."

So saying, the man departed, and the woodcarver got to work.

First, he had to plan. It was not enough simply to have a picture. He had to create sketches and sketches and notes and notes in order to even begin to see how this magnificent doll would come together.

He decided straight away that she would have movable parts. Her joints would bend and rotate as closely to reality as possible. Her eyes and mouth would remain still, if only to preserve the beauty of her face.

Next, the woodcarver had to decide whether or not to carve the body clothed or not. Again, he went with realism. He would carve a nude figure in order to dress her properly, with no worry for the vast folds and filigris of fashionable attire. That in itself changed as often as the moon, so this doll would be able to remain trendy or vintage as the case may be.

Finally, the matter of hair. The woodcarver initially decided to sculpt the delicate curls of the girl's flowing locks, but, again, there was fashion to consider, and the natural beauty of movement in such delicate strands.

Thus, with the make-up of the doll decided, the woodcarver got to work.

Every day he labored over this creation, and every day he gave up. Every day he wept bitterly at his own limitations, and every day he cheered his own genius. On and on it went, and still he occasionally made time for his customary orders.

One day, in the middle of his daily weeping, a tinkling sound of bells sounded outside his window. He opened it, and was astonished to see a little man, dressed in gold and silver. The tiny man had tiny wings, and a tiny notebook made from mushroom caps and tiny leaves.

"Hello, sir, it is a pleasure to meet you," the woodcarver greeted, opening the window further for the little man to enter.

"I have heard," the tiny, tinkling voice began, "that you are creating a miracle. I wish to be the greatest poet who ever lived, you see, and so I wished I might take inspiration for myself from your work, if that is quite alright with you."

The woodcarver blushed and bowed his head. While he was proud of what he had achieved, he felt it nowhere near perfection. But who was he to deny a poet anything?

He moved the cloth from the wood he was working, and the little poet buzzed about excitedly, making tiny notes in his tiny book.

As he flew around, the woodcarver noticed that the little creature had no good tools to write with, merely berries that he dipped into with his finger.

Well, it wouldn't do to have a poet who couldn't read his own work, so he fashioned a little stylus to take berry and flower-petal ink so that the young man might write more confidently.

The flying poet thanked the woodcarver greatly, zipping around the room with joy.

"May she have the beauty of a goddess and the voice on an angel," the poet cried, and departed for the evening.

The carver smiled and closed the window behind his guest. He sat down to work once more, but felt more confident in the work he had done.

Some time later, as he was finishing the limbs of the doll, there was a scratching at his door like a dog wished to get in.

Sure enough, when he opened the door, a wolf was sat on his stoop, eyes of gold and fur of black.

"Good carver," the wolf began, voice dusky, "I have been told you are creating a miracle. I wish to marry the doe in the field near my home, and to see such impossible craftsmanship would help me gain the confidence to approach her. May I come and see?"

Well, the carver certainly wouldn't object to true love, as strange as it may have sounded, and so he let the wolf in, and lifted the blanket covering his carving. The wolf howled in delight and began to pace circles around the doll, admiring her form.

As he circled, the Carver thought about how he might help the wolf win the heart of a doe.

He fashioned a collar from the finest of his leather scraps, a collar befitting a king, with a circle of gleaming gold in the center. He presented the collar to the wolf, advising that wearing it for the doe would demonstrate his loyalty, and his tameness to her.

The wolf accepted the accessory, and bowed his head in gratitude.

"May she be loyal and swift," he growled, heart beating with excitement and nervousness at confessing his love.

The carver smiled and closed the door behind the wolf, getting back to his work. It felt that the wood was smoother and more pliant beneath his hands.

The time came when the woodcarver's year was very nearly up. His doll was beautiful, it was true, with eyes of sapphire and hair the finest flaxen gold. He dress appeared to be spun from stars, and the woodcarver knew, with no shadow of a doubt, that he would never create her equal.

As he finished placing delicate shoes on the doll's feet, a pounding came at the door. This was no self-important knock, nor tinkling query, nor curious scratch. Scarcely had the woodcarver opened the door than a young man in fine silks strode boldly in.

"I am to be the greatest doctor in the world," he announced hotly, lips curled into a sneer, "and I was told you were here performing miracles. I will see for myself."

Before the woodcarver could stop the man, he was poking and prodding the precious doll, yanking her fine hair out and tearing her starlight dress. He plucked out her sapphire eyes to see what lay behind, scoffing at the delicate work.

"Hmph. It is just a toy after all. No substitute for the real body. May she remain fragile and weak."

So saying he strode back out, leaving the woodcarver to burst into tears.

How could he ever face the grand gentleman now? What would the fellow say to such abysmal work?

He had just about resigned himself to despair when a soft voice like the whispering of the wind interrupted him.

"Why do you cry, my father?"

It was his precious doll, hair matted and frayed, dress torn to shreds, and eyes missing. He felt he must be dreaming, but there she was, patient smile ever steady on her delicate lips.

"My doll, my daughter," he wept, "you have been abused and ruined by that terrible doctor. I don't know how to face you or the man who asked you into being."

"Worry not, father. Sleep. The day is wiser than the night, and all will be well."

The woodcarver didn't have an argument for that, so to his bed he trudged, and into the covers he burrowed, miserable but still bewildered by the magic of his creation.

Before the man knew it, it was morning, and there those three knocks were upon the door.

The woodcarver answered nervously, and there was the grand man from the year before, looking exactly the same.

"I have come to see the miracle you have made for me, woodcarver. Let us see if my wish has come true."

The woodcarver began to shake. He knew the state the doll was in, horrendous as it was. But he could not dissuade his guest from coming in.

Gingerly he lifted the blanket concealing his dolly daughter, and was astonished to see her hair was now fiery red curls, and her dress was a deep forest green.

The grand man smiled, observing his doll.

"A fine creation indeed, I see. She is beautiful, but deadly. Loyal and stunning. Delicate but fierce. You have made a miracle.”

The woodcarver nodded. The doll blinked awake and curtsied at the man who had commissioned her.

"Are you to be my new father?"

"I think so. But such a shame it would be to abandon such talent. I believe you should have two fathers, if that would be agreeable to your creator.

The woodcarver was nearly speechless. What in the world-

"Yes," he answered before he could stop himself, and the doll and gentleman both smiled and offered their hands.

Once upon a time there was a woodcarver who could grant wishes, who created a daughter from wood and cloth, and wed a man no beauty could phase.

And they lived happily.

[feastofcadavers]

The trek through town was surprisingly uneventful. Not many souls walked through the streets, whether it be due to time or some other means wasn't seen nor necessarily mattered to the two of them. The only notable event whilst walking across the cold cement was Aloe's observation of Mint's visible flinching and discomfort when some other person would pass by. Though they'd act upon the noticed response when they were sure no other passerby would come close to hear them, it seems this flinching wasn't reserved just for closeness, but touch as well. "What is it that is causing you to jerk and tense when someone is near? No one here suspects us of being what we are..." The violinist gave a small tremble beneath the other's touch, though quickly composed himself as he tugged himself out of it. "I know, I know we are no more than normal to others, but... What if someone knows without us knowing? And simply never tell us, only to report us to one of those hunters, or-?"

"Your irrationality only causes them to be more suspicious than if there was nothing wrong. Guilty beings make their guilt known through their body language, specifically one's eyes." The researcher made a half-hearted motion towards their own, only caring to ensure they didn't accidentally whack their own face. "I am a special case for the tell of the optics, but you are not. The fear in your eyes will no doubt be prominent if you are moving so much in your nervousness." Being told this so bluntly, or as blunt as Aloe's superfluous vocabulary would allow them, it somewhat felt... Exposing? Is that how it could be described? Mint wasn't sure of such, but tried to muster up some form of confidence within himself to keep his anxieties about public appearance so apparent. "I understand... Though, about your eyes... They are compound, aren't they?"

That was something that wouldn't prompt more than a blink from the taller of the two. It was a surprise, yes, but leave it to Aloe to give as little response as possible to such. "I... Yes, they are. However, one could always claim such as a trick of the light. I have never seen another one with our affliction have this form of alteration without other horrific alterations to the form to cause them to be insectoid... From what I have observed, in the least." There was skepticism from such a quickly made response, but as much as Mint would be worried for them, he could hold just a bit of trust to the statement. Aloe did have a way with words, be it for convincing, altering the mood of a conversation in a near instant, or anything more. "I sure hope you're right about that..." Mint would mumble, letting the air sit in stillness before turning away and continuing his street-side trek. Aloe gave no more than a pause before following close behind.

Raising gaze to the afternoon sky, Mint was almost at ease before the ground beneath him was squishy, but only for one step. "Hmm... Another slice of bread." Aloe surmised without a second thought, squinting at it whilst Mint lifted and shook his leg to get it off of his shoe. The bread fell off with a small plop to the cement, and it was almost comedic with this being the second instance of such an out-of-place food item... Until the gaze was raised to see a sandwich shop before the both of them. Mint chirped up with what he thought to be an explanation; "I mean at least now it makes sense... But it's not even a part of a sandwich. No condiments or anything." The scientist next to him hummed, looking for a sensible retort. "Someone could have asked for only bread and just left it at that."

"So you really expect someone to ask for just bread? What, like some kind of breadwich?"

"Yes."

"...Remind me for you never to take my order if we ever eat out in the future."

There was a silent acknowledgement between the two before Mint took the first steps into the sandwich shop. Whatever the name of the place was, the two didn't quite catch, but at least the inside was quaint and cheery. Plenty of bright colors all around, with laminated checkered flooring and booth seats at the edges of the shop. The lights above shining brightly on all it encapsulated, it was quite a change from the warm, homely nature of Sparkling's residence. There weren't very many customers, but those that were seemed to be having idle chit-chat and enjoying the atmosphere. Some white-haired fellow speaking with who seemed to be a biker caught Mint's eyes, or more particularly, the sandwich... Jam. It was just jam, not blood. Just jam. There was a small tremor from Mint before he wound up shaking his head, trying to get the intrusive thought of such things out of his consciousness.

"Hiya, newbies!" The voice from behind the counter practically made Mint jump, only stabilized by Aloe setting a hand upon his shoulder. "Hello there, worker," Aloe greeted back in a tone that was even more flat than usual, "pardon my acquaintance here, he has been jumpy all day." So much for hiding fears, Mint scolded himself as he huffed and took a deep breath to compose himself. "Y-yes! Pardon, there was shocking news this morning that I am still not quite over." Despite all this, the redhead with the overly joyous voice didn't seem to mind at all. "Oh, no worries! I know the recent news has been shocking to most! Why don't you two take a seat? Spinny and I be right with you two in a jiffy!"

As much as Mint wished to ask about 'Spinny', the person at the counter was gone before he could even get a syllable out. It wasn't long until the two took their seats, sitting on opposite sides of a booth that was furthest from the entrance. Aloe picked it out, so the musician figured there was probably some strategic reasoning as to why they would pick somewhere- "Here is your reminder to, quote, 'never have me take your order if we ever eat out in the future'." Uh... "Thank you...?" Aloe's gaze lowered from the flickering ceiling light above to meet Mint's. "You are welcome." At least they were courteous, even if they brought it about in a bit of a sudden manner.

And, loyal to their word, 'in a jiffy' that redhead showed back up with a small notepad in hand. "Welcome to the sandwich shop, you two! What can I get you both? Drinks for either of you?" Aloe gave a shake of the head, and Mint responded with a small pipe up of 'water'. "Ah, I see, not too keen on the drinks then! That's fine! Now, sandwiches, yea? I'll live up to my namesake as Sandwich to make sure you both get exactly what you need! We have-" And the waitress would go on and on, listing off various sandwiches and condiments for each, some of which didn't even sound pleasant or edible together. Someone with a morbid curiosity might have ordered them, but instead of focusing on that, the both of them were more focused on the little doll that rested upon Sandwich's shoulder. "Ah, pardon me-" The violinist interjected softly, causing the sandwich maker to perk up and hum to show her attention was grabbed. "-what is that upon your shoulder?"

"I think you mean 'who', dear customer of mine!" With the hand that held her pen, Sandwich gently took hold of the item that she seemed to treat with the utmost care. Long green hair that almost looked like it was made of leaves, a carefully sewn dress, button eyes and a stitched smile... It almost looked like a replica of a person with how detailed it was. "This is Spinach! Or as I like to call her, Spinny!" She couldn't help but giggle in happiness as she gently set the doll on the edge of the table- ensuring it wasn't too close to where it could fall if nudged. "She's been with me since I first opened here, and supported me through the toughest of times! She's also- ah- quite the snack!" That phrasing certainly set off alarms in both of the listener's heads. Aloe's expression went to questioning as they looked between the doll and the order taker. "Metaphorically, I assume." They mumbled, gaining a nod that was a bit too eager for their liking. "She also handles the register, but I typically take over for her because she gets shy and tries to hide a lot!" The silence in the air somewhat held a ringing, perhaps from the large amount of energy from this Sandwich character. "Anyways, what kind of sandwich would you two like?"

"Um... The Classic, please."

"Bread. Just bread."

The amount of confusion in the violinist's expression when Aloe decided to order just bread was something that wouldn't be matched for what would probably be ages. "Just bread?" He spoke with wordlessness just barely escaping him. "Just bread." The scientist would retort, crossing their arms as if it was the most casual request in the world. Though this entire exchange seemed to be lost on Sandwich, who simply scooped Spinach back up onto her shoulder and wrote down the requests. "Anything else?" A no from both parties, and Sandwich's beaming was brought even brighter than before. "Understood! You two have fun and chit-chat all you want while I get your sandwiches ready! It'll be the best, Sandwich Scout's honor!" And off she'd dart, taking just a moment to set the doll she carried by the register before heading into the back. Surprisingly, she didn't take the obvious door to the back that had the 'STAFF ONLY' sign on it. It was probably for something else, then...

"She's certainly the eccentric type, huh..." The violinist spoke as quiet of a tone as he could, just to ensure he wouldn't be heard and considered rude. Aloe didn't seem to care for such formalities and spoke normally. "I suppose so. She must either love her job or have some type of high going on within her system. Perhaps too much coffee would be the case..."

"Coffee? I figured she would be a soda type of person..."

And on the chatter would go... It seems speaking of observations was a way to get Aloe to pipe up a bit more. They wouldn't smile, nowhere near it, but... At least the conversation was pleasant. Maybe Mint could get them to open up just a smidge, after some warming up with talk of drinks and caffeine...

[venusofthehardsells]

Dreamgirl [part 2]

ReaderxBucky Barnes [Part 1] Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away? Warnings for this chapter: none, a bit of flirting (general series warnings include noncon, violence, mental illness, feels probably) A/N: Wow, I can’t believe the all the love chapter one of this story got! Thank you so much! ♥ I hope you will like this one as well. It’s the last “fluffy” chapter before things start to get chaotic dark, so you can all still jump ship if it’s not your thing. Extra special thanks to @cake-writes for beta-reading this for me! You’re the best ♥ Let me know what you think ~

Bucky can tell she recognises him from the way her face lights up in a perfectly glowing smile. "Hi," she beams at him. She is wearing makeup now, lips perfectly painted and eyes expertly defined with mascara and shadows. Her hair is no longer the unruly bedhead she had sported in the park earlier. In fact, she looks thoroughly put together, and pretty in an entirely different way. This type of beauty is right in his face, shining out harshly through her lipstick and wide, practised smile. "Hi," is all he manages to answer, but he quickly follows it up with a smile of his own. "Thank you for, you know, before," she says and he can practically feel the heat radiating off her face. Or is it his own? Shit. "Oh, it was... it's no problem," he answers, somehow sounding more casual and confident than he feels. "Well, it would have been if I'd lost them, so... thank you. Really." There is a change in her face that makes him want to heave for breath. She is still smiling, but it is as if the overly honeyed, slightly aggressive customer service mask vanishes. Bucky imagines that this smile is somehow more... her own.

"Anytime," he manages with a weak imitation of his confident pre-war smirk, but it seems to do the trick because she chuckles and looks down nervously. His superhuman hearing picks up on the fact that her heart is racing in her chest and it makes his own body an all too heated place to be all of a sudden. "So…" She bites her lip and he doesn't know if it's intentional, doesn't care, because all he can suddenly think about is if that mouth tastes as sweet as it looks. "What can I get you, Mr...?" Bucky has to swallow thickly before he can even think of anything to say that doesn't include all the inappropriate images that are now parading through his mind. "Bu-James," he quickly amends. It feels right to give her his old name. His legal name. It's not as heavy as the nickname he has borne all his life, the one loaded with guilt and horrors enough to make anyone lose sleep. "It's James. And I'll have a black coffee, please." She laughs again, as if that's exactly what she expected him to order. "To stay or to-go?" There is a hopeful edge lining her words and Bucky swears he hears her heart stop for just a second. A smile he has absolutely no control over falls onto his lips. "Haven't got any plans this morning, might as well sit down." It's a lie, but he is pretty sure Steve will forgive him for skipping their morning workout this once. He will have to. "All right James, black coffee to stay coming right up." “Hey, uhm… what’s your name?” He feels warm all over and he's sure it's not because of his sweatshirt. She tells him and he repeats the name, slowly, carefully, savouring the feel of it in his mouth. When he takes out his wallet to pay for the coffee, she shakes her head at him. "On the house." She winks before turning around to get the coffee maker going and Bucky can't help but be just a little bit relieved, seeing as all the blood in his body is divided between his face and his crotch. The way her work-trousers hug her ass doesn't help. He can't remember the last time another person made him feel this way. It's uncomfortable and disorientating and exhilarating all at the same time. A part of him, a huge part in fact, tells him to get out now and hope he never sees her again. The last seventy years of his life have taught him how precious control is, in any situation. It is what kept him alive through decades of firefights and infiltrations and other covert missions for HYDRA. And right now, looking at the cute barista, he doesn't feel very much in control at all. Bucky mentally kicks himself and gets his face back in order before she turns back around. He didn't have any control in the claws of HYDRA. He wasn't even human for all those years, just a weapon, a tool... an asset. A mindless thing created by a ruthless organisation, walking around in the shell of a dead man, whose own life was over in the blink of an eye. The Asset controlled him, but Bucky Barnes has probably never had as much control in his life as he currently has. And now that he's officially back from the dead, he just wants something that makes sense. Not unlike his time in Wakanda. Even though goat-farming with one arm had its disadvantages, it was still the closest thing to peace he remembers feeling post-enlistment. There are not a lot of goats in New York, but something else could surely make him feel the same way and he doesn’t mind. It's not as if he ever really got to try ‘normal’ back before it all went to hell. Steve might have left those kinds of wishes behind in the ice if he ever really had them in the first place (Bucky is beginning to think there is only ever gonna be the next fight or the next mission when it comes to his old friend), but Bucky can't give up the hope that now that he has been given this second chance, there might somehow be a life for him here. A life, a job, a home, happiness - and someone to share it all with. “Here you go, James.�� Her voice shakes him out of his thoughts. “Thanks, doll.” He makes sure to softly brush his fingers against hers when he takes the cup she holds out to him, lets his touch linger for just a second longer than necessary. She swallows when the cup and its warmth is out of reach along with his hand and he realises that she has been holding her breath. He shoots her another crooked half-smile now that he’s sure he’s affecting her too and he has to fight back a moan, because the faintest trace of arousal finds its way to him in the mix of coffee and floral perfume. She’s wet for him. The knowledge makes his cock twitch and he’s infinitely grateful for the counter separating them. His loose sweatpants don’t hide much. God, he wants to lean over, bury his face in her neck, take a long, deep breath of her scent. It’s maddening. He takes a sip of the coffee and licks his lips a little, slowly, deliberately, without breaking eye contact with her. Her sweet smile is still in place, but he might as well have licked her cunt with the way her composure stiffens and he can tell she is rubbing her thighs together behind the safety of the counter. “Damn, you make a mean cup of coffee.” Bucky mostly says it to have a reason not to sit down, just to keep talking to her and she doesn’t seem to mind the least. “I suppose the last few months haven’t been a complete waste then,” she chuckles. Despite it being morning, peak time, they’re still the only two people in the coffee shop. Normally, it means Bucky doesn’t have to suffer through standing in line and waiting through another ten orders, and he likes that, but today it means he can linger by the till and play the part of the man he used to be so many years ago. Even if it isn’t really him anymore, just pretending not to have a care in the world feels good. “How come I haven’t seen you here before?,” he asks lightly, taking another sip of coffee. He likes to think he would have noticed her before or at least remember her now if she had served him coffee in the past. “Do you usually come in around this time?” He nods. “One of my colleagues had to go home rather urgently yesterday. Something about a family crisis; I don’t think he’s coming back. My manager asked me if I could take his shifts and I couldn’t really afford to turn down the extra hours. So here I am I suppose,” she says with a laugh. “Making coffee full time in a second-rate chain-café.” She sighs for dramatic effect. “What am I supposed to do during the weekend then? If I need a good morning coffee, that is,” Bucky adds with a chuckle and he can feel himself blush again, but he’s getting used to the sensation. And it’s worth it, he thinks smugly, when he hears her sharp intake of breath. Oh, how he’s missed this. “Well, I… I might find myself near the park sometime Saturday morning. And if I happened to be in the right mood, it’s possible that maybe I’d bring coffee enough for two…,” she trails off, biting her lip and he wants nothing more than to bite it for her, to suck on that perfectly shaped bottom lip of hers that she’s so infuriatingly flaunting in front of him. “It would be a lucky coincidence then, if I were to run through that very park on Saturday morning, too. Maybe around eight…” It’s later than his usual routine, but he figures it would be pushing his luck to ask her to meet him any earlier on her day off. “It certainly would. I really hope I can be persuaded to go.” “Oh, I can be very persuasive, doll…” There it is again, that scent of arousal gathering beneath her skirt and the sound of her heart beating a million miles a minute. “I’m counting on it.” Her own boldness seems to surprise her and he can tell she is about to blabber something about not usually being so forward or, god forbid it, maybe even an apology, but the bell above the door chimes just then and her gaze jerks towards the two newly arrived customers, a pair of women in workout clothes. “Persuasion will have to wait, it seems,” he smirks and leaves the counter to sit down with his cup of coffee while she takes the orders from the two women, one of whom Bucky actually recognises as the hot blonde who sometimes walks her dog around the area in the mornings. He studies her discreetly over the edge of the coffee cup. She is still undeniably attractive, but he quickly finds that her face eludes him the moment he closes his eyes. What remains to him though, are the sparkling eyes and contagious smile of the barista. The way she bit her lip, looking up at him through her mascara-coated lashes, has him completely forgetting the taste of the coffee. He is so distracted by the thought of her that he doesn’t notice his phone until the second ring. The device almost slips from his hand as he stubbornly fumbles it from the pocket of his sweatshirt with his flesh hand, never lifting his metal fingers from the safety of his pocket. “Hello?,” he asks quietly. “Hey Buck. I was just wondering where you were,” comes Steve’s voice, carefully adjusted to sound casual. Bucky almost groans at his friend’s tone. Steve is only trying to show that he cares, he knows that, but he can’t shake the feeling that America’s golden boy is turning into a helicopter parent when it comes to him. “Just getting coffee,” Bucky mumbles guiltily. He knows Stark has a tracker in both his phone and his arm, hell, Stark probably has trackers sewn into Bucky’s clothes just to be on the safe side, so it’s not like Steve doesn’t actually know where he is. “I… I needed more time today. Sorry.” “Oh. Bad night?” Bucky is half a breath away from kicking the table through a window. He only trusts Steve to wake him up when his nightmares get unbearable, no one else. He almost sent Wanda flying into the next hallway once when she heard him cry out in the night and came in to check on him. If it hadn’t been for her powers, his metal arm would have broken all of her ribs when he lunged at her still half asleep. He still feels bad about it whenever he sees her. With Steve, however, it is as if his sleeping mind can sense who enters his room. His is the only comforting face Bucky knows and he’s grateful to have someone around who takes all of his issues in stride. The only problem is Steve’s damn saviour complex, that he thinks everything is his fault and thus, his responsibility. “Could’ve been worse,” Bucky answers reluctantly. An outright lie is not the way to go about it. “Sorry I wasn’t there, pal. I didn’t hear you.” “’s fine.” He wants nothing more than to shrug it off and hang up. “I’m fine. But I, uhm… took longer than I thought. Think I’ll have to skip the morning routine.” “Bucky…” There is a pause on the line that Bucky doesn’t like; his hand curls into a fist in his pocket. “It’s almost noon. You’ve been gone all morning, Tony’s gonna freak if you miss the briefing and you know…” The rest of Steve’s words is a distant mutter that drifts further and further away as he slowly places the phone on the table not to drop it. His fingers are shaking. His entire arm, hell, his entire body is shaking. There is no way it could have been later than seven or eight when he came into the coffee shop. He risks a glance at the clock on the wall. 11.45. Where did all that time go?

[TRANSMISSION] ALHABOR: MADE CONTACT WITH THE ASSET. DOESN’T SUSPECT ME ORION: WHAT OF THE SEQUENCE? ALHABOR: SAFEWORDS SEEMINGLY INTACT. FURTHER TESTING NEEDED ORION: I WANT DAILY REPORTS ALHABOR: UNDERSTOOD ORION: HAIL HYDRA ALHABOR: HAIL HYDRA

Tags will be added in reblog

[artofabeginner]

The Doll

“It took painstaking long to realize something was wrong with Alice. Longer than I would care to admit. I took no notice of her oddly perfect face, or slightly too long limbs. I mean, it’s kinda rude to bring that up isn’t it?”

“Full names for the statement, please.”

“Right, sorry. Alice Stoker was my colleague. She joined us about 6 months ago? Something like that. Nothing really weird in the beginning, fairly amiable. I work for Cleo Renown, it’s that way too expensive clothing store, off Hamper Street? Anyway, we get a bunch of new workers around the summertime, mostly college students. So Alice was rather insipid, really. Except, to be quite honest she was very elegant, a little weird to note. But she really was, she held herself in a way that was poised, even when she bent down. Not normal, for a college student, but she did mention living near Ashburton, and we all know people near Ashburton are loaded.

Anyway, in terms of work she wasn’t anything remarkable. She did an average job, like most of us. Although, now that I think about it, she always had her head turned down, like an obeisance? Or maybe, a prayer? Point is, she never made contact with anyone really. But other than that she was normal? I mean again it’s hard to think back and not immediately think of the incident.”

“Please do try, this is very important to our investigation.”

“Okay? Umm, well I suppose the first time anyone noticed anything strange was maybe two weeks into her working there. A man came in, I can’t remember his name. I do remember how he acted though. He was officious, by that I mean, I had been talking to James Penet, my coworker, he really isn’t that important. But the man had jumped in to comment, and I’ll get to this later, but every time he showed up he would get really nosy. He wasn’t very pleasant to be honest.

The thing that had made this weird was Alice’s reaction. It was fear and indignation. It was so ardently violent that even the customers showed some solicitude.  

I remember her telling him to leave, and he did. Later we asked her what was wrong and who he was. But she lied, I know she lied, it was just so generic, a ' stalker’ she had said. Told us not to worry. But of course we could only worry as he began to show up everyday, and Alice’s decorum slowly changed. But, I wouldn’t be coming to you if it was a stalker issue. 

Four weeks ago, I was closing up. I had sent Lainy Stewart, my co worker home early. I suppose what I saw could have been a trick of my imagination, but it was way too long of a hallucination not to be real. I mean I’m fairly taciturn, i don’t talk to many people unless I have to, but I’m not crazy, I know what I saw.”

“And what did you see, Ms. Lubane?”

“Outside the window that night, I saw Alice. She was walking weird, poised way too well. Her back was way too straight and her legs jerked in such a way that almost seemed like she had no joints. I don’t know what compelled me, but as I watched her walk down the street, I felt such a desirous need to follow her. So I did.

We walked for almost three hours, all the way out of town and into a dark and unfamiliar ally, at this point all that false gallantry that had been inside me, had vanished, and I almost walked away. But then, the man stepped out. He was wearing such ostentatious clothes, like something out of a circus. It had gotten way too weird, and I was about to leave, when I heard him address her. “Are you here to see the Doll Maker, Alice?” She nodded, and then he stepped aside.

Behind him was a door, that I swear hadn’t been there. It was pitch black, the door that is. And without repine, she opened the door and walked in, behind her the man followed. I expected him to close the door, but he didn’t. Instead it was left wide open, and like the folly that I am, I followed.

Inside, had been an old crippled man, he had no eyes, but I could swear he was staring right at her. I had missed the first part of whatever tete-a-tete they were having. Instead all I saw was that old man, reach into his eye and pull out a screw. He lifted it to her face and began to twirl it, I had no clue what was happening until it popped off. Her face had popped off.

And I saw why she never looked people in the eye. I don’t know how we missed it, how anyone missed it. Even James, the most fastidious of us all didn’t notice. In her face there were holes, and in those holes had been screws. And now her face was lying on the floor. I think i gasped i must have because all three of the people in that room turned to look at me. All three of their faces had screws, and Alice's faceless head was bloodless, just a mound of carved out flesh.

I ran, I mean of course I did. I ran and I ran and I ran. I made my way home. The next day I resigned. And I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone, I mean no one would believe me even if I did.”

“So, why are you here then giving a statement?”

“Yesterday, something came in the mail, there was a note attached that simply read, ‘Love from the Doll Maker’ Inside was a doll that looked like me, with screws outlining my face, hands and joints. I don’t know what to do. I’ve brought the doll. You can look at it, keep it. I’m leaving the country tomorrow. I just wanted to tell someone.”

“Statement Finished.

Looking into Ms. Lubane’s statement proved difficult. Both James Penet and Lainey Stewart have corroborated that Alice Stoker did in fact work there. Lainey also agreed that Lubane had indeed closed shop that night and had resigned the next. As for any information on Alice Stoker, well there isn’t any. Nothing shows up on any database we could find. She simply does not exist. As for the Doll Maker, it rings alarming bells, I have definitely seen this name somewhere in the records. Which does not sit well with me. However, until I can find the exact statement. I’m going to have to postpone calling this ‘Real One’, as for Ms. Lubane there is nothing to follow up with, as she disappeared before her flight. The official case has been closed. And the only thing found in her apartment that was strange was a doll that resembled her, some screws, and a note that read ‘The Doll Maker gifts, so you must too.’

End.”

[banquishedtotheglasshill]

Beltane Films

It’s a bit shit we can’t go frolic with the fae in the fields this Beltane and your one allocated government walk a day isn’t exactly the same as sitting, saturated by the sun all day on the Heath getting melted and eating strawberries. So I’ve made a list of my favourite films to help magically transform our inside lives into one that suitably reflects the mood of a fertility and love festival. Freya forbid it rains on friday but if it does dampen our witchy festivities at least we can get cosy and escape into nature through our imagination. 

1. Practical Magic (1998); 90s dreamy scene scape, botanical witches, cute vintage dresses, midnight margaritas, chocolate cake for breakfast and a true love story, is there anything more worth watching on the Witches valentines? It ends on Samhain it’s a perfect witchy Beltane extravaganza- I mean that greenhouse tho

https://ww2.123movie.cc/movies/practical-magic/

2. The Love Witch (2016)

Beltane is about LOVE and WITCHES duh. There’s a Beltane ritual, the visuals are everything I want and need, it’s a smart, aesthetically appealing deep dive into the subversion of the male gaze. Anna Biller made all the costumes (!!) herself, she wrote, directed, produced it and personally I believe it to be one of the best horror flicks to have emerged in the past decade. Reminisce on all those terrible, tragic and non-consentual love spells I know you cast long long ago and indulge in some glamourous murder. 

https://ww7.123moviesfree.sc/mov/the-love-witch-2016/

3. Tuck Everlasting (2002)

   A film about a family that lives forever after drinking some magical spring water in the woods? Very Beltane. It has that 00s dreamy sheen, edwardian costume, a love story, a coming of age story and it’s all set in New England right at the end of the turn of the last century. In the original story our protagonist Winnie Foster was 10 years old and it was originally written as a children’s book which honestly is a bit creepy. Nevertheless, it’s a beautiful story about finding yourself, acknowledging the wheel of time and appreciating life death life cycles. Also whatshername from Gilmore Girls is in it. Cute. Perfect for a spring festival. There’s also a musical that flopped massively but some of the songs are worth a lil listen. 

https://www.putlockers.cr/movie/tuck-everlasting-4736.html

3. FairyTale: A True Story (1997)

It’s Beltane we must have fairies! I was obsessed with this film as a child, particularly with the teeny tiny furniture they make for the fairy dolls house. I also spent a lot of time trying to untie myself from ropes like Houdini.This is the fictional retelling of the true story of the Cottingley girls who were caught up in the popular mysticism craze in the early 1900s and accidentally became celebrities after photographing the ‘fairies’ at the bottom of the garden. The story was a national sensation but after further investigation it was discovered that the photos had in fact been faked. No shit. The truly shocking thing is that the Cottingley girls seem to have escaped unharmed by the fae. It’s a great heartwarming film and features an interesting depiction of the British obsession with fairies and mysticism following rapid industrialisation. It also celebrates the beauty of Yorkshire and the British countryside in a very understated manner and honestly it might have been this film that launched my deep desire to run away into some woods and never look back. 

https://ww2.123movie.cc/movies/fairytale-a-true-story

4. The Last Leprechaun (1998) 

Ok this one is a bit mad. Another childhood favourite of mine, this film was given to me on a tape by my Scorpio Sun Gemini Moon Scottish grandad and within that context this film makes a lot of sense to me. It’s set in Ireland, this American family move into this huge house and discover the land is populated by the fae, quel surprise. There are banshees, there are fairies in a mine, there’s leprechauns looking for gold, it’s batshit and nowhere near as visually appealing as the films listed above but it’s a really fun watch. A good reminder at this time of year- don’t mess with the little people. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFd63gzYamw

5. Globe Theatre productions/ Online Theatre

This time of year would normally herald the start of outdoor concerts, festivals, garden parties and theatre out in the open air. Nothing compares to the magic of experiencing theatre outdoors, combining my two favourite lasting loves, theatre and nature in one. Naturally I’m devastated to be missing an entire season of outdoor theatre but thankfully the Globe has made loads of productions available online for FREE. Unfortunately, one of my favourite plays to watch at this time of year, As You Like It, is not part of the Globe’s free offerings https://globeplayer.tv/videos/as-you-like-it but if you’re looking for love and romance set in a forest with a good smattering of witty repartee and cross dressing look no further. Shakespeare’s birth and death day just passed us by (23rd) and if you haven’t yet celebrated this Taurean by indulging in a bit o cultchah I’m gently suggesting that you’d enjoy it. Equally, I’d recommend Emma Rice’s production of Midsummer Night’s Dream from the Globe, it’s literally the best production I’ve ever seen and at this point I’ve likely seen over 20 different productions of Dream so take me up on it. The cabaret artist Meow Meow plays Titania and I can’t think of anyone playing the Fairy Queen better.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/p08b015k/culture-in-quarantine-shakespeare-a-midsummer-nights-dream

FREE ON BBC IPLAYER!!!

The customs in the play are somewhat a mixture of Beltane and Litha practices so tbh it’s good sabbat to sabbat. I guess you could also watch the Tempest if you really wanted but I kind of hate it ngl. 

Angela Carter’s ‘Wise Children’, dir. Emma Rice

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/p0892kf6/wise-children

Free on BBC iPlayer, I was lucky enough to see this show in person while it was at the Old Vic and yes, I’m a massive Emma Rice fan and if you watch it you’ll understand why. The show has nothing to do with the fae or Beltane but it is from modern myth maker Angela Carter (who wrote the Bloody Chamber) so there’s lots of folklore and mythical elements woven in. It’s just a bloody good time, it’s colourful, queer and musical whilst unconventionally exploring family trauma. 

A Winter’s Tale, Royal Ballet

The Royal Opera House/Royal Ballet is screening their production of A Winter’s Tale on Friday at 7pm, it’s very magical, it’ll be available for a week, wahey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-byR-6p-qA

6. Anne with an E: Season 3, Episode 5, Netflix

https://www.netflix.com/watch/81025449?trackId=13752289&tctx=0%2C4%2Cf5cee1ae-463c-468c-90ac-6ccae34b01ad-31458487%2C%2C

 I wasn’t too keen on Anne of Green Gables before Netflix made it dark and hashtag real. I particularly love this episode which features a Beltane ritual at the end, I know I wish I could meet you all round a bonfire waving ribbon wands in my nightgown. The last season in particular really solidifies Anne as symbolic of wild woman in tune with nature and the rhythms of her own soul and I could probably deep dive into this ad infinitum. 

Skip to 40:14 minutes if you wish to only see the ritual. 

7. Honorable mentions:

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) because fairies 

https://www4.123movies.gr/movie/pans-labyrinth-2006/

Midsommar (2019) because although I know this film is really more for Litha, they have a Maypole so I think we can make it work

Far from the Madding Crowd ( 2015) Carey mulligan and countryside and terrible life decisions, the soundtrack is also very soothing on its own. You can watch it free (legally, shocker) on the BBC website. 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcfilms/film/far_from_the_madding_crowd

Tess of the D’urbervilles (2008) the TV series!! with Gemma Arteton (?) as Tess; pastoral life, nature pagan goddess allusions and a finale at Stonehenge very Beltane. Once you get past all the religion stuff Hardy’s aight. 

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2739yo

Happy Beltane Witches!!! 

[lycorogue]

Meet My OCs: Willow (Part 2 - Relationships)

Welcome back, folks! As I mentioned in Part 1 of Meet Willow, she became a bit overwhelming, forcing me to post a week late, as well as break her introduction into a mini-series in and of itself.

A quick recap before I keep going. This is part of a multi-post series I started here on Tumblr about a month ago. A means to introduce you guys to my main OCs.

In Part 1 of this series, I talked about why I'm doing it in the first place, as well as explain the real-world influences that helped me create my two story worlds of Gyateara and Glitches.

Part 2 of the series talked about the inspiration that birthed each of my four main Gyateara characters.

Part 3a did the same, but for my four main teenage Glitches characters.

Part 3b then talked about the Glitches main supportive cast of six adult characters; each one originating as a canonical X-Men character.

A couple minutes ago, I moved on to Part 4 of this series; the official introduction of my characters, one by one. I started off with my most present character: Willow Driver in her own multi-post mini-series. In that first section, I talked about Willow's background, gave an overview of her personally, and introduced you to her powers. 

In Meet Willow: Part 2, I'm discussing her main relationships. Then, within the next few minutes, I'll also have Part 3 posted, which will discuss her story arc thus far in the X-Future play-by-post game she originated in, as well as how it relates to my intended starter character arc in Glitches. 

Then, as I move onto Part 4, I’ll display all the other images I have of Willow. Part 5 will complete Willow’s official introduction with some scene samples and shorts. Finally, this Willow mini-series will conclude with a bit of fun: videos of her as a customized wrestler on my husband’s WWE13 video game.

For now, though, how about we see how Willow interacts with others, shall we?

Shawn: 

Shawn and Willow Image generated via doll makers designed by ChaZie.

Willow's brother is 15months older than her, and has a tumultuous relationship with his sister. For most of their childhood, neither Driver child knew their father was a mutant/glitch, due to him hiding his powers from them. Shawn and Willow played pretend that they themselves were powerful mutants/glitches, and were basically best friends until Shawn neared puberty.

Once Shawn hit 13, he thought it was too childish for him to continue playing pretend with Willow, and started to grow distant from her. One day, while the two were arguing, and Willow threw a bit of a tantrum that Shawn wouldn't play with her anymore, Willow manifested the illusion of fireballs whipping at Shawn. He was terrified, and, having felt slighted and abandoned by her brother, Willow took full advantage.

Shawn and Willow's father Jacob admitted to being a mutant/glitch, and tried to train Willow on the use and control of her powers. Meanwhile, Shawn, who didn't have powers, cowered and became closer to their mother Meryl as she tried to protect Shawn from the pranks Willow would pull. Willow loved the pranks she could pull with her new powers, using Shawn as the butt of most jokes; using him to “train” her illusionary abilities. Understandably, this made Shawn withdraw more from his kid sister. This created a downward spiral, though.

The more pranks Willow pulled on Shawn, the more he attempted to avoid her. This made Willow feel more abandoned by her first best friend, and so, instead of ceasing the pranks to make amends, she retaliated with more and more spiteful pranks and jump-scares. She acted immaturely and impulsively, but she never truly understood that she was actually tormenting and bullying her brother. She never meant to actually cause the mental torture she inflicted. This doesn't excuse her behavior or diminish the pain she caused Shawn; it simply explains her perspective of it.

In the two years after Willow discovered her powers, her mischievous use of them became increasingly mean-spirited pranks, and her anger and confusion about being the only mutant/glitch she knew outside of her father spilled over into her pulling pranks on disliked classmates as well. It was then that Meryl and Shawn were finally able to convince Jacob to send Willow to the Colossus Academy so that she could have better structure, the ability to socialize with other mutants/glitches, and receive a more refined training on her powers.

Shawn's traumatizing and humiliating torment by his kid sister's hand was finally done, and Shawn believed he finally had a breather; a means to return to a normal life. However, high school can be just as cruel. Upon realizing Shawn's sister was “sent away,” it wasn't long for people to figure out she was a mutant/glitch. Although Shawn had no powers or physical mutations, he was still relentlessly teased by his peers, causing him to hate Willow even more since he could never escape her.

Shawn closed himself off from everyone; becoming a loner with virtually no friends aside from those he could make anonymously online. It wouldn't be until he left for college did he truly start anew. No one knew him, no one knew his sister, no one made the mutant/glitch connection. He was free. He broke all ties with his family when he graduated high school, making sure he could pay his own way through college.

He didn't want his family to know where he was, having grown distant from his parents as well. His kid sister had loved teasing him, pulling pranks on him, and messing with his head. His father cared more about “staying invisible” than he cared about keeping Shawn safe from his sister by sending her away, and Jacob had only caved when she started messing with her classmates; drawing attention to their family. Shawn's mother, while routinely begging Jacob to send Willow to The Academy, never did much to rein in her daughter and/or protect her son. Shawn had grown to hate them all.

(Side Note: in X-Future my husband had Shawn be a psychopath bent on revenge against his family, but I don't think he needs that additive, and I don't think psychopaths need more violent representation to add to the stigma, it’s bad enough that Trish may be a movie-stereotyped psychopath. So, in Glitches, Shawn is just a boy pushed to the edge by a less-than-ideal, and, dare I say, abusive/neglectful childhood.)

Since Shawn is a secondary character, I haven't come up with the actual inciting incident yet, but, while Shawn was away at college, and riled up about his family for whatever reason, his own powers finally manifested. Electrical current spiraled around his forearms, coming to points just past his finger tips like drill heads. He learned he could also shoot off these electrical drill heads from his arms. Once he realized he also had powers, Shawn became more and more destructive and violent, until he was finally expelled from college.

That was when The Brotherhood found him, recruited him, and Shawn took on the “oh so clever” code name of Screwdriver (my husband's idea; he likes puns). After his training with The Brotherhood was complete, Pyro allowed Shawn to have a bit of personal “leave” from the organization. Shawn used that opportunity to try to murder his parents. He failed; barely. So barely that he believed he had accomplished his task. Jacob and Meryl only survived because a few X-Men managed to get to them in time to rescue them from the rubble Shawn tried to crush them under.

Shawn's next goal, not realizing his parents are still alive, is to find Willow to torture and kill her.

Willow is dumbfounded to discover how violent and vengeful her brother has become, and is trying desperately to repent so she can help him heal and redeem himself. It probably isn't going to end well for these two, as showcased in this song that inspired their dynamic in the first place: “What Have You Done” by Within Temptation

It was originally going to be Willow’s feelings towards Devon, but it just worked so much better as her singing about a love of a brother than a potential romantic relationship souring.

Penumbra:

Affectionately called “Penny” by Willow, Noelle “Penumbra” Firada has the ability to teleport via shadows, and turn shadows into solid objects she can wield and attack/defend with. She was paired up with the slightly younger girl as a roommate back at Colossus Academy. Barely a day into their living arrangements, Penumbra became fast-friends with Willow. This quickly turned into an attraction to her BFF and roommate. Before the end of the semester, Penumbra knew she was in love.

Willow loved the attention, and she'd routinely flirt with Penumbra. She even had a few make-out sessions with Noelle, just for the fun of it. Willow never loved Penumbra back, though. She just enjoyed the companionship. From Willow's point of view, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Penumbra wanted a relationship, and Willow was complying... to a point.

When the duo moved to the Xavier Institute, and Willow met Chayse and Devon, she realized what true infatuation - and even romance - felt like. It was then that she realized how cruel she was to Penumbra by stringing her along. She instantly stopped her flirting and sexually physical interactions with Noelle.

Shortly after, Penumbra realized that Willow wanted Chayse and/or Devon, but not her. Willow would never love Penumbra the way Penny wanted. So, Penumbra let Willow go. She moved on, and never begrudged Willow their relationship. She understood that Willow was young and stupid. Their friendship became stronger from it, but Penumbra also needed distance. So, once she was of age, Penumbra signed up to become a full-fledged X-Men (X-Man?), and volunteers to go on missions as frequently as possible to stay away from the Institute while Willow is still there studying.

William: 

This is a character I won't be bringing over to Glitches, at least, not as-is. He may become part of a composite character, or be a rough skeleton to build a new original character from in the future. So, this bit of Willow's history is solely anchored to X-Future.

While at Colossus Academy and Xavier Institute, Willow continued to enjoy pulling pranks, although they weren't quite as mean-spirited as they were when she pulled them on Shawn. One of the students she loved to target was William. He was straight-laced, stuffy, a bookworm, stickler for the rules, and a 17yo that acted more like he was 80; always complaining about the immaturity of his classmates, and never joining in at social events. Willow wanted William to let loose and actually act like a kid for once, so she always tried to coax him via her illusions.

She would transform study rooms into hot spring oases, and have herself seemingly draped in just a towel as she relaxed in the water. This would get William worked up, but never in the manner that Willow intended. She misread a few glances from William as he raged about her illusions, and assumed he had a thing for her. Since she was only 15 at the time of their meeting, and he was nearing 18, she falsely assumed he was resisting the temptation of being with someone so young. She then wondered how far she could push him before he caved.

That was when she started to follow him around whenever they were out of classes, so she could try to seduce him. She created more oases, with images of her scantily clad within the illusions. She created “clones” of herself, so she could tease William while four other copies of herself crawled all over him, purring in his ear, sensually nibbling on his neck and fingers, and generally just straddling his lap.

William was never much of a fan, and routinely berated her immaturity and sensual nature.

One day, while experimenting with his teleportation powers, William accidentally teleported too high into the atmosphere, couldn't breathe, fainted, and fell to his death. Willow mourned him deeply, and helped Lia create a memorial statue of William by projecting an image of him for Lia to use as a blueprint for her sculpture.

Once alone in her room to grieve further, Willow realized she was never sexually or even romantically interested in William. Instead, the reason she had such fun teasing him was because he reminded her a little of Shawn, and she missed her brother. He had moved away to college at that point, and her parents couldn't tell her where he went. All she wanted to do was apologize to Shawn for her behavior when they were kids, and she wanted to apologize to William for tormenting him in a similar (but all-over different) manner. She will always regret never before realizing that William was like another older brother for her, and she again couldn't treat him the way he deserved.

Hedge: 

The remaining brother-figure in her life, Willow was kinder to Winston, especially after her realization post-William. She tried to get him to open up to her, but in gentler ways, and without teasing him. He still mostly kept to himself, though, and this time Willow decided not to push.

Tragedy still struck when the Xavier Institute was attacked, and collapsed under an explosion. One of the students that died in the attack was Hedge, and Willow vowed to never forgive those responsible. Willow's heart broke to discover that her best friend and crush Devon was a potential suspect since he defected to The Brotherhood an hour before the attack.

Devon: 

Willow saw through him fairly easily within the first few minutes of meeting each other. He was this punk kid who had lived on the streets and didn't trust anyone. He was also about as dense as steel, and only marginally more intelligent. She loved to pick on his ignorance and “tough guy” persona. However, she also saw potential in a fellow prankster. They soon started meeting up to plan pranks; usually on poor William. Willow loved the idea of Devon's shape-changing potential, although he focused mainly on his fire manipulation powers.

Devon grew a crush on Willow almost instantly, and she loved the attention. She just assumed it was like Penumbra's crush on her at first, especially since Willow had her eye on the headmistress's son Chayse at the time. However, the closer Willow got to Devon, the more they bonded and became friends, the more she realized her heart raced just a bit whenever he was around, and she would get flushed whenever she caught him staring, or could catch mental whispers of his attraction towards her. She definitely had a crush, and debated acting upon it. However, by that point Devon had become her other best friend, aside from Penumbra, and she didn't want to screw up this friendship the way she did with Penny. So she kept her crush to herself.

Shortly after realizing her romantic interest in Devon, he met a member of The Brotherhood. Pyro, to be exact, and Pyro instantly suspected that Devon could be his long-lost child. Unsure if Devon truly was his son, Pyro simply hinted that he could help Devon discover who his parents are, and who he truly is. Devon turned down the offer at first, instead asking Cyclops for answers. The veteran X-Men (X-Man? I never know what to call one X-Men member) decided to test Devon's loyalty first in a cruel and manipulative Danger Room session. He tricked Devon into presumably betraying the X-Men for The Brotherhood, and declared Devon unready to know his parentage.

This made Devon realize that perhaps he truly wasn't cut out for the X-Men, and ran off to join The Brotherhood. An hour later the Xavier Institute came crashing down in an attack. Most of the students were given enough warning to get to safety, but there were still casualties, such as Hedge.

Willow was terrified at first, because no one could find Devon. His letters of farewell and gratitude were burnt up in the attack; unread and unfound. A security tape linked to the school's version of a Black Box showed Devon running away from the school, proving he was alive, but making him a suspect in the attack. 

Instantly, Willow went from worried to betrayed. She didn't know the face of the person/people who attacked the Institute, so it was Devon's face Willow pictured whenever she thought of revenge for Hedge. This did not bode well for Devon when he eventually made his way back to the Institute. He had initially meant to only infiltrate The Brotherhood, and then bring back intel to make up for his supposed betrayal in Cyclops' test. Devon had only stayed with The Brotherhood for two years because he learned of the attack on the Institute, assumed everyone there had been killed, and The Brotherhood promised him revenge on the school's supposed attackers: an anti-mutant group called The Purifiers. 

When Devon discovered most of his friends had survived the attack, and the school was rebuilt, he attempted to return, and was promptly punched out by Willow upon his arrival.

It kept a while for Willow to forgive Devon, only for him to later be killed off by Trish. (Whoops. X-Future Spoilers...) Willow had to then grieve her friend once more, yet again unknowing that he actually is still alive and well. He was revived by another mutant unaffiliated with the X-Men or Brotherhood. However, Devon also has amnesia, his mutation gave him a new default face, and he's living in a mutant safe-house with the girl that revived him.

Chayse: 

Willow almost instantly fell for Chayse. In the X-Future canon, Chayse was dating Lia when Willow transferred into the Xavier School. Willow flirted slightly, but she mostly left Chayse alone. She wasn't going to break up a relationship, which was one of the main reasons she switched focus to Devon, whom she was also attracted to, and who was single. 

Alternatively, since Willow and Lia start up at Emily's school at the same time in Glitches, Chayse and Lia never actually start dating. Which means Willow and Chayse have more of a romantic relationship from the get-go, Chayse and Devon are more romantic rivals, and Willow doesn't become QUITE as close with Devon now that her attention is more equally torn between the guys. 

For both X-Future and Glitches, Willow found Chayse attractive, and kind, and enjoyed that he was also more mischievous than he let on. She loved the idea of him rebelling slightly against his parents, especially when everyone expected the son of the Headmistress to be perfectly behaved and mature. She was also intrigued by Chayse. His powers of phasing and kinetic energy manipulation meant he was naturally resistant to psychic attacks. This included Willow's illusions. She could make him see or hear the illusions, but he quickly picked up that they weren't real and could dispel them. He also had to actively allow her to telepathically talk to him, as well as actively allow her illusions to work on him in order to get the sensory input of smell, taste, or touch. 

Willow and Chayse were paired up for more and more X-Men missions after the attack on the school, bringing the duo closer. Willow as also no longer distracted by romantic interest in Devon. Before the duo realized what was happening, Chayse had fallen for Willow. They had promised not to act upon it while Chayse was still with Lia. When they got back from their mission, Chayse began the difficult task of breaking up with Lia. Shortly after, Chayse was visited by Penumbra, who vetted him to make sure he'd be a good boyfriend to Willow. 

Seeing how much Chayse and Willow cared for each other, Penumbra surrendered her feelings, and gave the couple her blessing. It took significantly longer for Lia to also be alright with Chayse and Willow's relationship. Knowing how much their relationship would hurt Lia, they waited a month after Chayse and Lia's break-up before getting together, allowing Lia time to grieve before seeing her ex dating someone else. Chayse and Willow finally became an official couple for the Xavier Institute's prom. 

Through time travel shenanigans in X-Future that will not appear in Glitches, a man named Sebastian arrived at the present from the future. The 20-something was so shocked to have traveled back in time that he didn't hide his origins nearly as well as he should have. It was quickly revealed that he was the son of Chayse and Willow; a stunning fact that was revealed only a couple weeks after Chayse and Willow began dating. 

After the initial shock, things fell back into some semblance of normalcy. The next big hurtle for Willow, who is now much more mature than when she started out, is to help Chayse through his struggle with the knowledge that his best friend wishes to kill him after being tortured and brain washed (very Stucky, but without the sexual tension). Meanwhile, Willow is still dealing with the knowledge that Shawn wishes her dead, and has already attempted to torture her by nearly killing Chayse.

Lia: 

There was always an awkward relationship between my two main X-Future characters. Lia was a bit shy, a goody-two-shoes, and mature for her age. She butted heads a little with the more cocky, playful, outgoing, mischievous, and relatively immature Willow. Luckily, Lia is a little dense herself, and never really picked up on Willow's attraction towards Chayse, otherwise there may have been more tension. Tension that might make its way to Glitches since both ladies will be vying for Chayse's attention at the same time.

A month or so after transferring to the Xavier Institute, Willow calmed down a bit, and Lia saw her more endearing qualities. The two became friends as Lia tried to rein Willow in a touch, and Willow helped Lia cut loose a little. They balanced each other out, and by the end of the school year, they were good friends. Things got a little shaky again when Willow was sent on a mission with Chayse after the school's collapse, and Lia was forced to stay behind to help fortify the school's foundation. When Chayse returned and continued his relationship with Lia without a hiccup at all, Lia figured her jealousy was uncalled for, and her friendship with Willow strengthened again.

They became roommates that school year, and grew closer as friends. So, when Willow realized how much she cared for Chayse, and that Chayse liked her back, she felt incredibly guilty and turned Chayse down. She couldn't be the reason he broke up with Lia. Chayse then confessed that he and Lia had just grown apart over their two-year relationship, and he was planning on breaking up with her anyway. He and Willow then agreed to not do anything until Chayse officially broke up with Lia. Even then, they’d give Lia time to grieve the relationship before she had to watch her roommate and close friend date her ex.

The unexpected hiccup in their plan was that apparently Lia didn’t see her and Chayse drifting apart as much as he did. She did NOT take the break up well. Her emotions went berserk, and she lost control of her powers, igniting herself into her lava form, but without the added obsidian skin protection she usually had. Thankfully, Chayse was able to phase Willow out of the room before anyone was injured. Chayse then used his powers to try to calm Lia back down; collapsing under the stress. Seeing Chayse faint shocked Lia back into control of her powers, and she rushed to get help while Willow watched over Chayse. 

Willow and Lia then had a semi-heated argument in the infirmary while waiting to hear news about Chayse. Lia admitted her wrongdoing in their argument, and the two called an uneasy truce. 

Willow walked on eggshells around Lia for the next month, but eventually accepted Chayse's invite to the prom. By that point, Lia was mostly in a good spot again. She and Willow again attempted to build their friendship back up. It took some time, and they butted heads a few times yet again. Lia backslid a bit when she found out the truth about Sebastian, but then realized that she was trying to compete against “fate” so she officially gave up on her feelings for Chayse, and wished he and Willow a happy relationship. 

Nearly a year later, and Lia and Willow are finally back to a good place between them. Lia is now dealing with a similar situation as Chayse: her former roommate and good friend is teamed up with Chayse's former best friend, and the duo is trying to attack the X-Men and destroy Chayse and Lia. Willow's trying her best to keep her two closest companions above water, especially after losing Devon.

Willow's Parents Jacob and Meryl: 

In truth, while Jacob and Meryl have a rough and unhealthy relationship with Shawn, they have a fairly good relationship with Willow. 

Meryl was a bit afraid of Willow when she would torment Shawn, and was at wit's end trying to figure out what to do with her daughter. However, since Willow was sent to Colossus Academy, and has matured and mellowed a bit, Meryl was able to have the loving Mother-Daughter relationship they had before Willow discovered her powers. 

On the flipside, Willow was hurt at first to discover that Jacob had powers the whole time, but decided to hide them from his children. With their training, though, Willow began to bond with her father. She then felt abandoned and unwanted when she was sent to the Academy, but by the end of her first year there, she understood how unruly she was and why she had to be sent away. While not as close as during those two years Jacob was her sole trainer, Willow did grow a tight bond with her father again over the years. 

Willow was terrified to hear of her parents’ near-death experience while she was away on a mission, and even more horrified to realize it was Shawn who had attacked them. In the X-Future canon, Willow was also pissed to find out that her parents knew of Shawn's mental illness, and hid both it and his need for drugs from Willow. While Willow was in shock to discover how violent and hate-filled Shawn was, Meryl and Jacob accepted it as who their son truly was without his medication.

Again, in the Glitches rewrite, Shawn won't be a psychopath, and so the “that's just Shawn off his meds” mentality won't show up.

Until things are resolved with Shawn, Willow's parents have sanctuary within the Xavier Institute. Willow's not the largest fan of seeing her parents daily after 4yrs of being away at boarding schools, especially since she's grown accustomed to a bit of self-parenting and autonomy. However, she also finds it nice to have access to her parents whenever she wants to see them, talk to them, or just be around them/hug them.

------------------------------

Well, this post is even longer than the first one for Willow! I haven't even talked about her relationships with other characters, such as Cyclops, the villainess Agony, the new recruits Jacob and Temperance, or Devon's new love Nyssa. It's just too much to introduce the characters as well, though, so I'll have to wave the white flag here. Next up will be Meet Willow: Part 3 – Character Arc Events. For that post, I'm going to talk about the main events of X-Future that impact Willow's over-all character arc, as well as how they might show up in Glitches.

While you wait for that post to go live, feel free to check out the other posts in this series.

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 1

learning how I created Gyatera and Glitches

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 2

learning how I came up with the characters for Gyateara

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 3a

learning how I came up with the original teenage characters for Glitches

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 3b

learning how I came up with original reworks of the adult characters for Glitches

Meet Willow (Part 1 – Background)

Broad overview of Willow’s past, her powers, and her personality

[quinntamsin]

If you like my stuff support me on Patreon, and see stuff early!

Kwyn zips through the atmosphere of Lothal, her HUD scanning for remnants of the Jedi Temple. Only the remaining signs of dead stormtroopers and more litter the entrance.

Obi-Wan Part 2

, Ben has recovered his saber and has caught a transport to locate Princess Leia, aka Little Leia. We open with the ship of Diyu, the massive ecumenopolis where Leia has been taken. Much like a mix of Corellia from Solo and a dirtier Coruscant above, it has it's own feel. What I do really like about this particular scene is that bleeds with a few elements of conurbations in the real world. Bits of Shanghai, Toronto and even Seattle are playing out before my eyes. THey established a nice sense of underworld using open gambling and I beleive we also see REx seeking donations.

I'm pretty sure its rex by his Blue and White armor markings. Hell, the Imperials barely patrol this city except some small teams. The Spice Dealer was especially interesting, almost appears Happan, but the scales near their ears make me think otherwise.

Hmm, the open grill of street food in the back is a nice athmospheric touch. Jayco, who is the "False Jedi's plant to lure in customers does a pretty good job faking it all. Using magnets to fake a telekinetic pull, Haffa is a good addition to the denizens of the underworld. I wonder how much work Ewan has to do to affect that Coruscanti accent. Jafee plays a pretty good of fake Jedi, but no real Knight. Ben pulls apart his con quickly and gets pointed to a strange an established of spice makers.

The entire scene has a pretty simplified breaking bad feel, and them wearing modified scuba goggles is pretty funny. Seeing all of the particle effect aliens is also great. It gives us a greater sense of groundedness which was lost in the prequels and some of the sequels. Ben gets steamrolled by the gang, who pulls him into a trap with a doll. He ends up using the "free Spice" to get away and finds the real Leia.

Reva meanwhile has come to gain her prize. Now, I want to divulge some thoughts on Moses Ingram. People have disparaged her acting in this series and I'm comparing her to Sith characters from Six Sister to Bastila. She has menace, and she's savage. This all makes sense since we know from Jedi Fallen Order that former Jedi are literally FUCKING tortured to turn to the Dark Side. It makes sense that she is that ferocious. I will say she does seem a bit wooden, but I think this is twofold.

First the Grand Inquisitor as shown lacks the panache of the one from Rebels, he's okay, but I prefer Reva. This ends up with our Sith characters seeming far less restrained as I guess people expect. I think most of the whining fans are either too use to the mouthy Sith and never paid attention to fucking Ventress or Savage. Or hell mother fucking Dahtomiri witches.

Yeah, fuck those folks Reva is a good character and it wasn't until THIS episode I saw some dissonance between how she's acted and how I feel she was directed. Moses is a good actor, in this case, I think there was some issues maybe with how things were filmed or how they decided to direct specific scenes.

BACK ON TOPIC! Our show off between Reva and the Inquisitor is what I expect from Dark Jedi. A bunch of shitty posers.

Leia grabbing random shit and trying to touch stuff in the market bazaar really reminds me of my niece. The baby who has to shove everything in her mouth. Except this is a kid who just wants to check out the world around her. Ben's TRYING to keep a handle on their cover, but Leia knows fucking best. This is HOW kids act. The writing for Little Leia who basically goes around demanding the Jedi float her is, the best.

Who the hell is playing Fifth Brother? Sung Kang, fuck, he's way more creepy than he was in Rebels. Definitely gets that silent malace of a brute he's suppose to be. Switching back to our heroes Ben talks to Leia who appears to be warming up to him. And, shit, it goes south Leia does the smart thing and questions shit before running away. Yes, honestly Bail should have considered teaching Leia a way to identify safe people. I think hindsight is forthought, but it would have made sense if she knew a password among bodyguards that Ben could know as well.

Heh, the Bazaars live food section is nice, and the various Inquisitors are all the proper dire threats. Fifth Brother is toting out his Troopers as Fourth Sister is deciding to go alone. Leia is still running as we get a shoot out above the tops of Daiyu city. Our local Haffa pops up and watches the whole thing just as Inquisitors bgein to close in. Leia jumps and rops and floats. Fuck sakes, time for Ben to evolve and stop letting his past hold him back.

She is saved, of course, but Ben has obviously lacked practice and it pains him to grab her. The various people around see it happen, and you can see they are surprised. ONLY Inquisitors use the force, and seeing someone do it to save a little girl would be a fucking cryptid level event. Ben tells Leia a bit about our recent Dark Jedi and Haffa shoots out the last of the Bounty Hunters. Haffa passes an item (a sort of redge bad or token) and he walks away to play Anime Hero who holds the line.

Heh, Grand Inquisitor goes all spinny blade on the poor gang leader and Reva is using her parkour powers. Do love how they appear to be relying more and more on real life effects and stunts. It's giving this serious that nice grounded feel without the sketchy VFX we see in some series. Reva tossing Haja against the wall has a certain level of bruising effort we should expect from a rage filled Dark Jedi. Good blocking and direction here.

Leia takes charge and starts channeling her mom. Ewan delivers a nice whispered story about Padme here and why we all love her. Even in Clone Wars, Padme made shit better.

And yup, in pops Reva ding her slow Sith entrance, and invoking all the great sbefore her. I don't mean vader, I mean fucking Assaj Ventress and fucking Maul! KENOBI!

How does she know that Anakin is alive? Was she told by Vader or is she lying. I am going to go with she is lying! She seemingly murks the Grand Inqusitor (I really hope they don't conflict this with Rebels), and our heroes get away in a transport. Off to Mapuzo I think they are! Damn, the race is on for them to hopscotch back to safety.

Hottakes:

Obi-wan being in complete fucking shock near the end and cutting away to vader in the bantha tank was a good touch.

I like Reva, I like her more compared to Grand Inquisitor who has the weakest part in this series so far.

Fifth Brother is JUST KILLING IT!

Heh, all the little costuming touches in this show make me wanna cosplay that girl with the weird hexagonal frame dress.

[proteusspade]

I don’t generally wax nihilistic about the younger generation. Online Roleplay, however, has slowly opened my eyes to what I at first took for the latest passing fad in RP, and now realize may be a symptom of the way the generation after mine was raised and educated. I definitely spent a lot of time on the computer as a kid, no denying that. (I also had greater computer access than many children in my own generation.) However, to use the somewhat cringey term, my “screen time” was nothing compared to what a good proportion of kids in the generation following mine had -- time watching videos, too, occupied a fair chunk of my childhood, and I won’t deny that, either, or insist in a superior tone that I spent my childhood “playing outside, drinking out of a hose”. I played outside and I spent time on the computer. I read, and I watched videos. I played make-believe and I played games on Bonus.com. One is not exclusive to the other. But, due to increase in the ease of use and affordability of portable technologies as child-entertaining devices, one has begun to significantly *overshadow* the other.  The “aesthetic” trend I began to observe in RP has damn near taken over. GIF RP, celebrity faceclaims, settings that have no plot relevance on the RP, no social relevance on the RP, no technological relevance on the RP, only there to fit an aesthetic, have become the new normal. I need to explain how *insane* that is as a Milennial. The thought of creating a character around a celebrity’s appearance never seemed to cross our minds back in the day. The thought of using *any* reference that was not custom-made to fit our ~~unique creation~~ seemed crazy -- if you couldn’t draw, you found someone who could, or used a doll maker, or (most shocking of all!) described your character using text. You know, text, words, the medium you’re roleplaying in. But now many roleplays forbid you from participating without an image, often without a specific type of image (anime or celebrity faceclaim).  Ditto the “aesthetic” historical settings, which unfortunately I have to admit are *not* an issue unique to the generation following mine, whatever the fuck we’re calling it today -- my generation definitely does this shit too, and this is no doubt partly due to our *appalling* schooling. I still don’t get the point of this, though; if things are going to be treated as if it’s modern day, you realize your char can still wear a flapper dress? Like... they still function fine today, and given most of these characters are spacevampnekodemonangelwerekitsunes with wings anyway, they probably won’t look any more out of place than usual. (... well, I guess some things never change.) Overall, however, the worrying thing I’m seeing is a complete lack of awareness of what other players would be aware of. This can range from astonishingly unclear storytelling and descriptions, ‘he walks in’ type posts that tell other players and characters NOTHING, to expecting players to metagame as a matter of course just to keep things moving, often having no understanding of why metagaming would ever be a bad thing. I am seeing a complete lack of awareness of our own characters (the number of times younger RPers will make new characters, throwing out the ones they’ve played once if ever, because they didn’t take the time to develop them and are wondering why all their characters come out the same -- I feel so bad for these kids, they feel like they’re bad writers somehow) -- also in how players cannot figure out what their character is seeing, hearing, or sensing, often ‘not knowing what to do’ when they’ve been given very obvious hints or even told exactly what needs to be done by other characters, feeling they have to “come up with it themselves” without any outside input.  Less explainably, I am also seeing a complete lack of respect for other roleplayers -- everyone knows what AFK and BRB mean, but these terms are not used anymore to inform RP partners that one will not be actively RPing for a time. Instead other RPers are treated as a resource of infinite patience that will somehow psychically know that the scene is now on pause. ... I’m seeing this among my own generation too, increasingly, and I don’t know what this even is. I am seeing far shorter posts which give other players/chars much less to respond to, observe, or work off of.  I am seeing far more frequent instances of several people all RPing in the same scene, but never interacting or approaching others, just waiting for others to approach them. I am seeing people respond to posts as if they haven’t read them, and are continuing their own personal novel. (Again, also a problem with my generation. At least partly an issue of overexcitement, but I think also a problem of reading comprehension.) I am seeing people struggling, painfully, to understand how to use words to tell a communal story.  I am realizing that the generation following mine have been stuck in front of visual mediums, allowing little opportunity to develop a vivid imagination. Needing to rely on things they’ve seen, unable to conceive of things they haven’t. They have been reading less, (many schools have limited or banned library access outside class times, many schools punish children for reading non-assigned materials), have been allowed to play face to face less (and yes, I say allowed -- I know that a huge amount of play restrictions are due to safety-paranoid schools, parents, and laws that punish parents for ever having their children out of their line of sight.) and have been given less time to develop the imaginative and social skills which are essential to RP, and which are bred on the playground. As frustrated as your RP makes me, kids, I know you deserve better. If I talk bad about your RP sometimes, I’m sorry. It’s not you. I don’t like how they call you annoying and put something on so you’ll be quiet. You’re not annoying, you’re wonderful, you’ve been robbed of essential tools to grow these parts of you. Cultivate your imaginations, and stick it to the people who fucked up your childhood and then gave you the blame for it. ... oh, and if you’re young and RPing... please don’t cyber if you’re under 18.

[bendy-dreamland]

“He’s missing?! This can’t be! Where could he have gone?!”

“What makes you think I have any idea? I want nothing to do with him.”

“You know this building better than me! So, you have to know something, you son of a..!”

“I know this building, not the version he vanished from, not like you do, so I don’t get why you’re asking me if I know. Again, I want nothing to do with him, I have more interest in-”

“Uhg, I know, I know. Don’t say his name, or whatever stupid title you’ve given him now. Hmm… I suppose I’ll have to take things into my own hands. After all, I’ve been meaning to speak with an old friend of ours for quite some time now.”

The squeaking of the door reminded Henry that he had, once again, forgot to get oil for the old hinges. He should just call the landlord, but he never liked bothering Mrs. Vargas, she always gave him an earful for letting people smoke in his office whenever she visited. Hey, if it calmed their nerves while they stammered through their story, then it made his job easier.

Sighing, Henry removed his coat, putting it on the rack in the corner of the small office space. He glanced around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, nothing moved or taken. Didn’t hurt to be a little paranoid, especially when working in the private investigator business. After making sure nothing was wrong, Henry smiled a little, running a hand through his hair, before moving to a small record player he kept on a bookshelf near the coat rack.

Today seemed like a calm day, maybe a little music could help make it even calmer.

Once he picked out the proper record, can’t go wrong with some old classics from the ol’ studio, he moved to make himself a cup of coffee. These new personal, electrical devices were a lifesaver, and Henry liked being able to enjoy coffee prepared by his own hands, and not by whoever makes the pot in the lobby.

Leaving his office to the sound of You Left Me in a Heartbreak playing from the machine, he noticed someone down the far end of the hall. Green eyes narrowed as Henry looked at the figure, they were obviously a woman, but it was odd that she was dressed in all black. Black shoes, black tights, black jacket, and black gloves. Even her face was obscured by the rim of a large, black hat. The only thing that wasn’t black was the steely gray ribbon tied around the hat.

She seemed to be looking for something, but Henry ignored her, just letting her do what she needed to do while he went to the restroom to get water for his coffee pot.

When he left the room, he found that she was gone, must have found the room she was looking for. With a shrug, the private investigator entered his office, shutting the old door behind him, hearing that annoying squeak. As he started up the coffee maker, he heard the squeak again, a customer? Mrs. Vargas? Gus, asking to borrow something from him again?

No, no one entered, but the door was left slightly ajar, a shadowed figure was seen behind the foggy glass of the window on the door, the one that read ‘Henry Ross, P.I. of Toons and Humans Alike’. “Come in.” He called out, having a good idea of who it was, simply by the silhouette of the hat they wore.

Henry watched as the door opened, the squeaking of the hinges sounded worse as the mysterious woman purposely let it move slowly. She quietly stepped in, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. “Detective Ross?” She asked, her voice as soft and smooth as silk, delicate as an old china doll.

“Yes, that would be me. And you are?” He asked in return.

“You can call me Ms. India Eenck, spelled e-e-n-c-k.” Interesting name, Henry noted mentally. Might be an alias of some sort. Only a toon would have a name that obvious of a pun, but this lady was clearly human. “I’ve come to speak to you about a missing person, someone I know.”

“I can help you, I suppose. Would you like some coffee?” He offered, gesturing to the machine.

She gave a nod, it was rather annoying to Henry that he couldn’t see her face, that hat was tilted downwards enough that he couldn’t see anything, except he did note that she had long, black hair. It stood out greatly against her extremely pale skin, what little of it he could see.

Henry gave a nod in return before grabbing two cups that sat by the machine, ready to pour when the coffee was brewed. He offered for her to take a seat, which India did. “So, what is the case? Who is the person?”

India let out a small sigh. “I am surprised that you are not aware, but then again, I wouldn’t put it past you to do your best to ignore the man and his infamous name.” She commented as she toyed with one of the framed images he kept on his desk. Henry wanted her to stop touching that particular picture, it was very special to him.

“There are a lot of men that I do my best to ignore, elaborate.” He started to pour the coffee into the cups.

“It’s Joey Drew.”

Henry stopped, tensing up. Joey Drew… is missing?

Turning, he looked at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean? How is he missin’? When did this happen?”

“Four days ago, he was last seen around The Studio.”

“Why was he back at the studio? I heard it closed down about five years ago.” He handed her a cup and she took it with her gloved hands.

India shook her head, making a disagreeing noise. “No, not Joey Drew Studios. The Studio. It is what your old work place has been labeled in Toon World. He was last seen there, alone, without a toon escort.” She pulled something from a pocket in her jacket, a folded-up sheet of paper.

She set it down on the desk as Henry took a seat, letting him take it. He unfolded the paper, seeing that it was a missing persons flyer. The word ‘missing’ was written at the top, above a photo of Joey Drew himself. Under the picture was his name, when and where he was last seen, and a small reward of two hundred dollars for finding him, dead or alive.

From the High Order of Cartoons, it seems. Hm, they have no interest in these sorts of things, especially when it comes to humans. So why would they give a reward for someone like Joey? He wasn’t exactly someone toons welcomed with open arms in Toon World. “You want me to find him? Why? Joey and I lost contact years ago, and honestly? I don’t care if that asshole is missin’, probably his own fault, knowin’ him. Was it a mob? Did he piss someone off in Toon World? Or is he doin’ this just to get attention?”

It was petty, and stupid, to reject a case, seeing as he hadn’t had a decent one in weeks. But Joey betrayed Henry ten years ago, and, as sad as it was, he was still nursing the wounds from their falling out.

“I understand that you are still mad at him.” India commented.

“How would you know that?”

“Joey and I were close.”

“How close?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, just as the reasons for your hatred for him are none of mine. But hear me out.” India pulled something else out from her pocket. It was an old, beaten up piece of paper, yellowed with time. She handed it to him, and Henry looked it over, instantly recognizing the handwriting.

It was a message from Joey, addressed to Henry.

Dear Henry,

Seems like a lifetime since we worked on cartoons together. Ten years really slips away, doesn’t it?

If you’re back in town, or visiting Palomino City, come visit either of the workshops! There’s something I need to show you.

Your best pal, Joey Drew

Henry looked over the letter three times, before setting it down. There’s no date on it, but from how old the paper is, Joey must have written this a while ago, yet it seems that he never sent it. Why? Why did he write him a letter?

“I’m sure you have questions.” India spoke up, catching the investigator’s attention. “I found this note in his office at the studio here in Over World. I was trying to look for clues myself, but this is all I could find that was useful. I have heard of you, Henry. You are a man who is willing to solve cases for both humans and toons. Joey had connections to both, and to you. It seems best that you would be helpful in finding him. Especially considering that note, it sounds like he wished to patch things up between the two of you.”

He picked up the note once more, looking it over, reading it again. Was Joey really wanting to repair their broken relationship? Why not just contact him by phone? Or come to the office? Henry was known well enough in Toon World, even in Palomino City, so it shouldn’t have been hard for Joey to find some way to contact him. It’s pretty much the easiest way to get in touch with him, ask a toon for Henry Ross, they’ll tell you where he is.

Then again, Joey Drew never made anything easy, so this shouldn’t be surprising at all.

Still, there is something so unusual about all of this…

“So, let me get this straight,” Henry frowned, setting down the yellowed letter, “Joey was planning on sendin’ me this note, just days before his sudden disappearance?”

“That’s right. It seems that he wished for you to be back in his life, Detective. Will you take the case? You’re the only person I believe that has a chance of finding Mr. Drew.”

“I don’t like the idea of lookin’ for him, but I suppose I can take the case. As much as I’ve tried to avoid him, I do hear the gossip in Toon World.” Henry sighed, sipping his coffee. “I’ve heard people say he’s lost his mind, that he wants to become a toon or somethin’, but people use to say that about Disney back in his early days, so I ignore the words of the chatty people of Toon World. Same with here in Over World, where everyone thinks Joey Drew blew all his money and ran the company into the ground on stupid purchases.”

“Well, that last one is true.” India commented, there was obvious humor in her tone.

The detective snorted softly, leaning back in his chair. “I knew it, probably drove poor Cohen crazy, Joey never did know when to stop. So… I guess I can take the case.”

“I will pay you three thousand to find him, alive. Two thousand if he’s dead, but I’m sure you understand that I want him alive.”

Henry’s eyes widened at the prices, that’s… more than he’s ever gotten for a case, usually he tells them how much it will cost a day! He looked at her, surprised. “I… that’s too much.”

“I am desperate, Detective Ross. Mr. Drew is important to me, and I would very much care for him to be found, safe and sound.”

He frowned, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair, giving this some thought. He needed the money, and he had actually been wanting to speak with his old co-worker for a while now. Plus, he doubted anyone would wanna even look for the old fool, so it seems that Henry’s hands were tied.

“I’ll take the case. Let’s discuss my conditions and yours.”

“Excellent. You won’t regret this.”

Whenever someone says that, Henry couldn’t help but feel like he would.

Henry remembered the last day he stepped foot in Joey Drew Studios well.

It had been his last day there, the day the fallout between him and his best friend occurred. He remembered the yelling, the fighting, and the anger and hatred Henry had been filled with when he stormed into his work space to gather his things.

And then the pressuring guilt, when he had to say goodbye to his friends, and to his toons.

He had been the co-founder of Joey Drew Studios and had been head animator and director for the older episodes, until he left in 1933. He was also the proud creator of several of the famous characters from their most popular series, Bendy the Dancing Demon, including the Dancing Demon himself. Bendy had been his pride and joy, a dear friend of his, but Henry was banned from seeing him after he was fired.

In fact, it’s been years since he’s seen any of his characters, the last one he had seen was…

Well, anyway, since that day, Henry decided to change careers. Sure, he could go work for another studio, but he felt like it wouldn’t be the same. He decided to indulge in an old interest of his, something he would have gotten into if he hadn’t decided to become part of the cartoon scene. He looked into private investigating and decided to open up a business for both toons and humans.

Toons and humans live both alongside one another, but also separately in their own worlds. The human world, the one where most live, is the Over World. It’s where humans and toons tend to mainly work together, though toons are seen and treated on the same levels as those who are not white and middle-to-high class in society.

However, in Toon World? Toons live well enough with one another. Yes, there is still racial bias, but that can be blamed on the studios and creators. It’s not perfect, but it’s better and safer than Over World. Crimes are different in the world of cartoons, where things are ridiculous and silly, often like things seen in the shorts themselves. Bank robbers, kidnappings with the usual suspects, it’s all simple and easy, nothing to worry about. After all, murder isn’t common among toons, and if it does happen? It’s easy to solve, toons are careless when it comes to such a serious criminal act. Why would they bother to cover their tracks?

And a toon is always the suspect, seeing as only a toon can kill a toon.

The business went well for a while, petty crimes and such did pay the bills, but Henry also had to rely on human cases. Toon paid better, but crimes weren’t as reported or as frequent. How annoying, but human cases helped when things were tight, and Henry made a name for himself in both worlds, so he was given work.

Then the war happened, still happening, actually. But Henry was drafted, and had to close up shop in 1941, right after the attack in Hawaii. He was only in the frontlines for six months before he was sent home with a damaged leg, a missing pinky on his right hand, and a purple heart. He always felt like it had been a pointless matter in his life, at least he was able to return to his P.I. career after a short period to recover.

But work was quick to being slow and pointless, not much going on lately, until this case with Joey Drew.

Henry’s fingers itched for the metal case in his coat pocket, wanting a quick smoke, but he needed to stay focus. He had decided to return to Joey Drew Studios, to see if he could find any clues that India had missed. She was even kind enough to give him a key, so that was something.

He looked up at the old building, left to the elements. The sign above the door, that read the name of the studio, was rusted and the paint chipped. It was even missing a few letters. The grass around the front was overgrown, the windows of the building were completely boarded up, but the door was left just fine, minus needing a serious paint job.

What bothered Henry though, was the writing on the door, in a dried, black liquid.

Where it all began…

Was this someone’s idea of a joke? Henry didn’t like it, and he wasn’t gonna have any of this nonsense. Pulling the key from his pocket, he made his way for the steps up to the door, only to feel like someone was right behind him.

Turning sharply, Henry found himself staring down at a small boy.

He couldn’t be any older than thirteen, dressed in rather nice, clean clothing, but the colors were odd. His shorts, socks, and button up shirt were a solid black. Even his shoes, though they were also coated in a black liquid, it looked fresh. The only color of his outfit was the bright yellow vest he wore, and the white bowtie and one glove he sported, seeing as he was missing his left arm.

He was pale, his hair black as night and slicked back into two, messy spikes of some sort, made Henry think of cat ears. Kids these days were always trying to stand out with weird clothes and hairstyles, it seems. Minus this, the kid looked completely normal, except his eyes were a bright shade of gold, and they were narrowed as they focused on Henry.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said in a voice that sounded a tiny bit deeper than it should be for a boy his age, accented as if from Brooklyn. Hm, sounded familiar, but that’s an accent he’s heard a million times over, so of course it sounds familiar.

“And why’s what? What do you want, kid?”

“You shouldn’t be here, dis place ain’t fer you anymore. Just walk away, an’ don’t be comin’ back here anytime soon, or ever. What’s in there is nothin’ but trouble!” The boy pointed at the building, Henry took notice that his single glove had two, shiny, black buttons on the back of it.

Kinda like Bendy.

Actually, now that Henry looked this brat over, the hair made him think of the toon’s horns… hell, there was a black patch on his vest, shaped like the Bendy logo. Hm, must be a fan, wouldn’t be the first time Henry’s seen a kid (or the rare adult) dressed like a cartoon character. He’d give this kid a seven out of ten on creativity with the outfit, but he was still being a brat, so Henry wasn’t appreciating the fan.

Henry scoffed, crossing his arms. “Come on kid, I have work to do. I used to work in this place, I’ll be fine, I just need to look for somethin’ that will help me out in my case.”

The boy looked annoyed, huffing as he turned his nose up at the older man. “Fine! But if ya get hurt cause of what lives in there, its yer own fault, Ross!” He spun on his heel and stomped off, glancing over his shoulder to stick out his tongue at Henry, blowing a raspberry at him.

“Rude.” The detective grumbled, turning back to the door before realizing something.

The kid knew his last name.

He looked back, but the boy was gone, no sign of his yellow and black clothes, or his bizarre hair. The studio was located just outside of the city, there wasn’t anyone around, nor was there much traffic. Where did that kid run off to so quickly?

Henry frowned as he shook his head, probably best to… not think about that right now.

He stepped up the stairs and stood before the door, slipping the key inside.

“Alright, Joey… let’s see if we can find what you wanted me to see.”

END ACT ONE SCENE ONE

[studentfox590]

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Gaia Dream Avatar Creator

Step 1

Avatar Creator

Select a category from the blue box on the right side of the page. A pop-up will appear, unless you select 'View' or 'Save.' If you select 'Theme,' for example, you will see a box showing different background designs you can add. You can also get an online image by typing its Web address under the 'URL' tab.

Step 2

Select 'View' to see how your updated profile will look. You can go back and make more changes by clicking the 'Edit Page Layout' link.

Click 'Save' when you're happy with your new GaiaOnline profile.

References

Warnings

Dream Avatar Creator Gaiam

Going into the 'View' mode to see the profile you created does not save your changes. You must select 'Save' in editing mode.

Dream Avatar Creator Gaia Game

Writer Bio

Joi Royce started writing professionally in 2010. She has written for the college community of Bloomfield College in Bloomfield, N.J. Royce has also been published in 'Bloomfield Literary Ink.'

[rebellingstagnationblog]

“It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year” by Andy Williams (Day 19 of 31)

For @teh-bluejay who asked for a GameStop employee interaction with Drake. 

(I’ve never been to GameStop myself, but I asked a reliable source [ @historian-in-pearls ] and watched some videos online so I hope this is what you were looking for!)

Drake heaved a relieved sigh as he dumped his purchases on the register’s counter. Flexing his hands, he hoped the feeling would return to them soon. He really should have gotten shopping basket or cart or something, but by the time he’d thought to grab one, he had already been holding the wireless controller and travel gaming console and it would’ve been awkward to go back to the front of the store to get anything, so he’d just grabbed the last of his items and went to stand in line.

For half an hour.

Drake hated Christmas.

The cashier plastered a smile on as he began to scan Drake’s items. “How are you today, sir?”

Drake muttered something incoherent as he dug out his wallet, fingers still not quite fully functioning. He fumbled a few times but eventually wrestled it free from its pocket.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” the cashier asked.

Sighing, Drake grabbed his credit card and tapped it on the countertop.

Eyeing Drake’s card, the cashier reached for a pamphlet and opened it, displaying it for Drake to view. “I see you don’t have our super savings shoppers rewards card, sir. If you sign up today, you’ll get up to 40% off on all of your items and points that you could use on any future purchases.”

“No, thanks,” Drake glanced at his items. “Just these today.”

“Are you sure, sir? You could save a lot of money—”

“Stop selling me more stuff I don’t need. Just scan my things so I can get home.”

The cashier carefully folded up the pamphlet, Drake running his hand through his feathers as he tried to keep his cool. It wasn’t like he’d been here for almost two hours between finding parking, hunting down his items, then standing in that stupid line.

Except, oh, wait.

It was exactly like that.

“Do you have the other version of this game?” the cashier asked, holding up the box with the cartridge in it. “If you haven’t played the first four, then this one really won’t make much sense—”

“Listen here you little parasite,” Drake snapped, leaning forward. He stopped himself from grabbing the cashier by the collar of his shirt, but just barely. “If you do anything but scan these things and then let me pay for them, I swear I’ll—”

A few screams emitted somewhere behind him and Drake glanced around, eagerly searching for the cause.

It wasn’t hard to find.

“Video games rot your brain. Buy a tasteful Quackerjack toy instead!” Quackerjack spread his arms out, releasing his hoard of toy soldiers, teddy bears, baby dolls, monkeys playing cymbals, fire engines, and classic wind-up teeth.

Thank God.

His frustration evaporated, Drake turned back to the cashier. “So are you gonna bag my stuff or not?”

“Are you crazy?” the cashier shrieked, dropping down behind the counter.

Drake rolled his eyes and glanced around for a discreet location. One corner was hidden by a large display for the newest game release, so he ran over towards it, kicking away a toy soldier that tried to shoot its musket at him. Hiding behind the display, and seeing dust bunnies that would rival those in Gosalyn’s room — seriously, how often did they clean this place? — Drake pulled out his emergency suit.

And changed into his alter ego.

Tossing out a gas canister, he waited for the blue smoke to begin wafting into the air before saying, “I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night! I am the super savers shoppers rewards card that you’re forced into buying! I am Darkwiiiing Duck!” He leaped out of the smoke and sent a glare at Quackerjack.

The toy maker pouted. “No fair! Playtime was just getting started.”

“Pack up your toys, Quackerjack,” Darkwing said, walking toward the villain and pulling out his gas gun. “Your play date’s cancelled.”

Quackerjack glowered but that was the last thing Darkwing saw him do because the next moment, all the lights in the store went out, plunging everything into darkness.

Either that was the most convenient blackout ever, or Quackerjack wasn’t working alone.

A spark of electricity flashed near the back of the store and another voice declared, “My poor children! Don’t you worry, your uncle Megavolt will free you from this awful place of imprisonment.”

The caped crusader whipped out his night vision goggles — he never left home without them — and was able to easily keep track of Megavolt and Quackerjack despite the darkness.

Darkwing loved Christmas. All the criminals went on huge crime sprees, eager to cash in on the added merchandise and extra money surfacing as people blew budges on expensive gifts and the newest developments in technology.

The rest of the store was in pandemonium, everyone running for the exits, some customers with their un-purchased items still clutched in their arms. But they were for the police to track down.

He had bigger villains to fry.

Or short circuit.

Grabbing one of Quackerjack’s fire engines, Darkwing ran to the back of the store where Megavolt was unplugging all the TVs he could get his hands on. Darkwing unwound the small hose and located the button near the back of the toy.

“Not so fast, Megavolt,” Darkwing said, pressing the button. A deluge of water poured out of the hose — more than should ever be in a children’s toy; what had Quackerjack been thinking? — and hit Megavolt in his battery pack. The villain shorted out with a yelp, collapsing onto the floor.

He shook his head and glared into the darkness. “You brought the fire engines?” he cried.

“They’re a classic!” Quackerjack shot back.

Pulling out a few zip ties from his suit, Darkwing bound Megavolt with little fuss and turned to locate Quackerjack.

The clown was cackling, shining a flashlight on his teddy bears and dolls as they removed the games and consoles from the shelves and handed them to the monkeys who crushed everything with their cymbals. Ever since Wiffle Boy had become popular in St. Canard all those years ago, Quackerjack had sworn a vendetta against all electronic entertainment. It was a futile battle, but Quackerjack’s single-minded obsession kept Darkwing busy, so he couldn’t complain.

Quackerjack always walked around with his pockets stuffed with toys and today was no exception. A jumprope was half-dangling out of one pocket and Darkwing lunged to grab it, pulling it free.

The toy maker must’ve felt it being removed because he whirled around, the flashlight beam searching for the perpetrator in the darkness. Darkwing dodged the light as best he could while Quackerjack called, “Toy soldiers, attack!”

But toys were as blind in the dark as anyone. They managed to run into one another and fire their weapons their shots hitting the store’s the merchandise and some of the other toys, effectively incapacitating them.

Darkwing grinned and tied Quackerjack up in the jumprope. He’d taken a few classes on lasso wrangling and had an official certificate boasting his accomplishments. Quackerjack wasn’t going anywhere until the police arrived.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Darkwing said, brushing his hands down the front of his suit. “Can’t get the drop on Darkwing Duck that easily.”

“How did you even now we were here?” Megavolt asked, his voice somewhat muffled from his position in the back of the store.

“Ha! Like there is any crime that happens that I don’t know about,” Darkwing said.

“I bet he was here buying Christmas presents,” Quckerjack sneered. “You need to keep your mind active as you get older, Darkwing. Video games’ll just bring on dementia faster.”

“I’ll take the chance,” Darkwing spun on his heel, heading for the door.

Removing his night vision goggles, Darkwing stepped out of the dark store and into the winter sunlight.

And there, in the parking lot, sat Negaduck on his motorcycle. Sitting forward, his hands crossed one over the other on the handlebars, his beak resting atop his wrists as he surveyed the citizens fleeing the store with a pleased look on his face.

The two mallards were equally surprised too see the other, staring at their double as people around them sprinted away, screaming and shouting.

Negaduck was the first to react, loosing a curse before he kicked his engine to life and sped away.

Darkwing leaped into action, following Negaduck and grabbing his gas gun. Stopping on the sidewalk, he aimed at the retreating motorcycle and fired. The canister sailed through the air and hit the back of Negaduck’s tire, exploding in a cloud of Darkwing’s trademarked blue smoke.

The impact of the canister alone was enough to make the motorcycle wobble dangerously, but the thick cloud of smoke added to the attack, effectively blocking Negaduck’s vision.

The bike swerved and toppled, the yellow blob that was Darkwing’s archiest of arch nemeses rolling off onto the sidewalk.

Leaping up, Negaduck glanced back at Darkwing before he raced headlong into the park.

Darkwing took off down the street.

It really was the most wonderful time of the year.

[raindrenchedstories]

Adjustments

A short story with the FH cast. We’re going to call this the home maker AU. There IS a bit of a twist however~

Neil knew his master was dating. But the idea that the bastard was moving in? That was a shocker. He’d watched his master flit about in a worried manner. Wondering when the big guy would calm down.

About halfway through Archibalds mad cleaning, Neil had been unceremoniously stuffed back into his cage. This rarely happened. Meaning the big guy was panicking too hard about it.

“It’ll be fine boss. You’ve known this person for years right?” He leaned an arm on the bars of his cage. Noticing a lemony fresh smell that indicated Archibald had already freshened up his space as well.

“I DO know him. But I can’t let him think I live in a dump!” Archibald threw his hands up, and suddenly there was a sizable dent in the ceiling. Both men stared at it a moment.

Archibald heaved a sigh. “Maybe I should calm down.”

“Yeah. Probably best.” Archibald flopped in front of Neils cage panting.

“Neil... What if he hates it here? what if living in my mountain makes him unhappy?” Archibald ran a hand over his hair. It was frayed and disheveled.

Neil let himself out, deftly lifting the latch and squirming free. If Archibald REALLY wanted him to stay there, he’d have made the latch more complex. Walking up to the giants elbow, he pressed a hand there.

It was a silent way to ask if he could climb up. Not being one for being picked up like a doll. Archibald gave a thumbs up. Neil found the few flecks of stone jutting from the softer parts of Archibalds skin, and used them as hand holds for climbing.

Once he reached the wrists, he used extra care, climbing right to the top of the giants head. “Now Archibald.” He began. Pulling strands of frazzled hair from one side to the other with effort. “If he loves you, he loves everything about you. Home included.”

The giant held quite still, but laughed gently. “So you can be sappy now?” Archibald left his hand open by his head. Signaling for Neil to climb up. Wich he ignored. Stomping firmly on the giants scalp.

“Nope. But I CAN state the facts. Arch. If he’s moving in with you then you’re in the home stretch. Right?” He sat carelessly on the soft surface that was Archibalds hairline.

The giant tilted his head to the left, Pitching Neil off his person and into his hand. “Now stop that.” He scolded. “But... YEah. You’re right.”

Neil was ferried back to his cage and set carefully in. The latch being made more complex now. “OH COME ON!”

“I forgot to tell you. He has a pet as well.” Archibald smirked.

“Human eating?” Neil leaned further in. Now interested. 

“Don’t know. But he adores the little thing. Who knows. Maybe you’ll have a lady friend.” Archibald winked. “But better safe than sorry. Just for now ‘kay?”

“Fiiine. But You owe me one.” Neil stormed off to the back of the cage. Oddly, much like a hamster’s cage, Neil had a running wheal. However, this one was custom made for humans or human like beings.

He climbed into this and began with a walk. It was a mindless, repetitive task that gave him some form of satisfaction. At least it gave him something to do while cramped in there. Actually the cage was decent. Especially as he didn’t spend much time in there.

A knock spooked him from his running however. Just as the wheel picked up momentum. Unlike a rodent who wouldn’t let go of a spinning wheel and instead get and interesting ride, Neil bailed out to the side.

Archibald darted to the door. Helping move some of the newcomers boxes, Neil could see a giddy sort of skip in the earth giants face. Soon enough he spotted the bearded bugger himself.

He almost looked human. If not for the utter fluff that covered his face from the bottoms of his cheeks down. He seamed like a lumberjack gone wild. Delicately he set a small box down next to Neils cage. Smiling down at the human.

Neil returned the expression halfheartedly, waiting for the big brute to return to his moving routine. Archibald set another box right next to Neils cage.

“I was hoping they could live close to one another. But if you’d rather not I understand. I just assum-” He was stopped when the fuzzball placed a finger over his lips.

“I’m sure Ricky would love that. He really loves humans after all.” The giant smiled. Patting the box carefully. There was a little bit of movement, and two bright eyes peeked out the air holes of the carrier.

“Oh... Not another human then.” Neil blurted out. He glanced over his shoulder at the new giant only to receive a smile.

“Sorry. No. He’s very friendly though. I’m sure you two will get on like a house fire.” He smiled. Following after Archibald to bring the rest of his stuff into the building.

Neil watched the shifting mass inside the carrier. Finally clearing his throat. It whipped about to eye him. “Er... Y’speak?” 

“Yes. I speak.” The new being chirped back happily. “Isn’t this exiting? New faces and new places right!” The other being shifted about, raising higher over Neils. Eyes lighting up happily.

“Uh. Yeah. Look. I need to know up front. Do I look like food to you?” He leaned further away, concerned.

“Nope. I don’t eat anything that talks back.” The eyes lowered down. Peering out the bottom most air holes.

“Ah. Okay. So... I’m Neil. It’s nice to meet you, Ricky.” He smiled nervously. Sure. This thing SAID it didn’t eat speaking creatures. But Neil needed to see evidence of this before he believed his companion.

“Oh. Uh... Not to be rude. But I actually prefer Richter." The being moved further upward in his carrier. “But it’s a pleasure.” 

Before Neil could respond, the giants began working on something next to his cage. Moving Richter away a moment. Despite the protests of the being in the carrier

It looked like Richters enclosure. Made of a clear plastic. He seamed to have a large bath, beside several small caves and live plants being placed within. A heating system. And a small feeding station.

Soon enough, the new giant opened the top of Richters carrier. Showing him to Archibald. Arch lit up a bit, covering his mouth with glee. “My goodness. Aren’t you lovely? Isn’t that a butter pattern?”

“Yeah. I call him the butter ball.” The new giant beamed. “But he’s probably getting cold by now.”

“I’m NOT cold.” The little being protested. However, Neil could see a humanoid upper half climb into the giants palm. Then, a long, serpentine body. Glistening with a bright honey coloured pattern. Little circles along his ‘back’. Small, near heart shapes trailing along his sides.

The pattern melted into his back and torso, however the scales started at about his navel. He coiled around the giants hands, accepting being passed into Archibalds waiting grasp.

The new giant soon took him back, and set him in the plastic enclosure. However, Richter instantly kicked up a fuss. Hissing, spinning, and calling out to the giants. He pointed firmly to Neils enclosure, eyes pleading with the two titans.

“Not yet Ricky. hm? Oh you want to hear each other.” The giant sighed. Pulling a connector tube from his box of pet supplies. “Is it okay if I put this close to Neils enclosure?”

“Um. Yeah it should be fine.” With that, the tube was set up. Just a tube with a cap at the end. Small holes allowing Richter to  talk to him. And he did just that. Bustling through the extension happily. Laying himself right down with a pleased smile.

“It’s so nice to have someone my size around now! I hope I don’t scare you too much.” He shrunk back a bit. Trying to look smaller.

Neil blinked in confusion clearing his throat. “No no! It’s fine. Ah... But you’re technically bigger than me.”

“Well... Longer maybe.” The naga conceded. Laying on his back and wiggling his serpentine half. “But we’re close to the same size!”

“Yyyeaaah.” Richter seamed so happy, so bright. It almost hurt to let him down. Neil sighed. 

“Well... Not exactly ‘getting along like a house fire. But you boys’ll be okay.” The other giant beamed. Throwing an arm over Archibald proudly.

“Why don’t we give you two time to adjust. Neil, the recall spell is always there if you feel crowded.” Archibald reassured. The two giants left them be. Now Neil felt quite isolated. HE gave Richter a confused glance.

“So what’s your master like?” He jerked a thumb towards the open air where the giants had been standing.

“He’s nice. Super considerate. Pays attention to detail. Yours?” Richter coiled up idly. His long body constantly shifting in an effort to get comfortable.

“He’s a good guy. A little scatter brained. But if I had five kids and a relationship on my hands, I’d be a little spaced too.” Neil shrugged.

“F-five!? there’s kids here?” Richter reeled back, smacking his head against the connector ceiling. His body flopping sporadically around.

“Shit! Are you alright?” Neil gripped the bars closest to the connector. 

“Ugh. Yeah. Just got a fresh bump on the head. But ah. There’s kids here?”

“Well. YEs and no. they’re all grown up. But they’re a rowdy bunch. They know better than to be rough with us small folk though.” Neil sighed.

“Oh good. No big deal then...So long as those two are happy together.” Richter eyed the clear plastic of his enclosure.

“Yeah. Let’s...Let’s try to get along for their sake. Arch....He’s been through some shit.” Neil leaned against the side of his cage. Debating on dragging a chair over.

“Agreed. Same for Bear. He’s a sweet heart but... There’s a lot of hurt behind that.” Richter slumped flat against the floor.

In the other room. Far out of hearing range from the two small men, Bear and Archibald just cuddled close. Both shutting their eyes and... setting aside their problems for now. Breathing deeply and enjoying the company of one another.

[aliciabuncle]

Is Christmas spirit still the North Pole’s greatest asset?

Nestled at the northernmost point on the planet sits a legendary operation of massive scale. Producing billions of gifts per year, it has primarily relied on Christmas spirit to ensure that every child on Earth has a holiday to remember. But to make all of this happen is no elfin task. It is critical that the hundreds of thousands of pieces of equipment, workshops and one magic sleigh are operating at peak performance.

As we uncovered in our interview with the Chief Happiness Officer (CHO) and Chief Operations Officer (COO) last year, these complex, connected software-driven assets are the key to delivering the most joyful day of the year. To maximize their usage, intelligence has become the North Pole’s greatest asset using insights from data, IoT, and AI.

In last year’s feature, we focused on the health and safety of the equipment behind the manufacturing of these toys. This year we sat down again – with only the finest cocoa and sugar cookies – to discuss three key topics:

      How to engineer billions of connected toys at scale

      Creating the most enchanting workshop experience

      Why arctic hares and musk oxen introduced the need for a remote monitoring solution

Since the CHO and the COO were away at the annual MUG Council (Merry User Group), they had us sit down with Twinkle, the Chief Tinsel Officer (CTO), Noel, the Head of Workshop Planning, and Kris, the Director of Chimney Operations to better understand how the North Pole continues to put data, IoT and AI to work.

 Delight is the outcome that matters most

In an operation as complex as this, the primary goal is always to deliver higher-quality toys faster – at lower costs. As a non-profit operation, fueled only by Christmas spirit of the youth it serves, it is important to stretch every positive sentiment to the max. However, these young lads and ladies are not always easily impressed. In an era of limited attention spans and children who can navigate a smart phone before they are 6 months old, toys have become increasingly software-driven, connected and sophisticated. Development of these toys must respond in kind.

Elves examining the 2020 model of the next-gen toy car

How does a CTO with consumers who are not easily impressed always create such delight? Twinkle deploys an AGILE (Always Gifting Incredible Life Experiences) methodology to software development. Whether it is the toys that land under the tree or the software that guides the sleigh through the night to its billions of destinations, agile development means faster software engineering. Twinkle learned about this methodology at last year’s IoT Exchange from a presentation given by one of her peers.  She has since found enormous value in implementation of the engineering lifecycle management solution.

“Informed by AI and letters to Santa, the North Pole has been able to cut software development and delivery time by 37%. If that’s not a Christmas miracle, I don’t know what is!”

Toys are more complex than ever before

As toys have evolved far past the traditional days of wooden pull-ducks, basic stuffed dolls, and pressed tin tanks, delivering them at Christmas scale has become a substantial challenge. But, toys, just like any other complex product, are only as good as the requirements that drive them and the tiny, adorable elf hands that craft them. For Yuletide Engineers to manage the growing complexity of connected knickknacks, they need better visibility into changes, deeper insight into data and shared tools for global distribution.

Operations at the pole form a traditional super-system and today’s systems-of-systems require mechanisms to create versions and variants of holly products while maintaining relationships between the traditional and the new. The CHO’s shared, digital dashboard stores data in a single location from which many different teams can benefit.

Complete traceability all through the year

This approach integrates project stages for complete traceability, starting the day after Christmas, in order to achieve evergreen compliance and become less complicated. All activity and changes in requirements can be viewed by anyone at any time. It shows relationships throughout a project such as circuit boards to R/C cars or batteries to Power Wheels. The documentation is built-in to help manufacturing teams conduct reviews and audits more easily while remaining both holly AND jolly.

“The last thing any of us wants to see is a disappointed look on little Billy or Sally’s face after they open a beautifully wrapped box and the surprise inside doesn’t work to their absolute delight. You see, there’s no amount of milk or cookies that can fuel the magic we need to bring smiles to all the little boys and girls around the world. We have to rely on advanced technology to enable the annual production cycle that we strictly adhere to. During that time, we have very little room for even the smallest errors in our systems, assets, products, and more. We turned to IBM Engineering Lifecycle Facilitator (ELF) for their leading end-to-end, integration and goodwill development solution for complex gift management and cheer engineering.” – Twinkle, North Pole, CTO

 Elves are demanding a workshop experience that promotes community and cheer

 When you think of the North Pole and the holiday it serves, what comes to mind? Probably singing elves, open-space workshops, festive décor, and plentiful milk and cookies. If you recall from last year, the North Pole is home to many festive facilities, such as:

       Toy Workshops

       Worker Housing

       Reindeer Hanger

       Bake Shop

       Hoofsmith

       Candy Shop

       Hat Maker

       Post Office

       Cocoa Cafes

       Sleigh Valet

Each facility is the workspace for an elfin community. Yet, last year, the Head of Workshop Planning realized some alarming trends. Certain workshops were showing decreases in SLEIGH (Singing Loud Eagerly In Great Harmony) measurements. There were also some shops that were over-crowded while others sat under-utilized. This led to an increase in artisan milk and cookies running out in the over-used spaces. It also meant we were spending way too much Christmas spirit, the currency of the North Pole, to power the under-used spaces. The North Pole is not a cheap location to host one of the largest operations in the world. With real estate costs being second only to the cost of homemade cookie delivery, managing those costs is critical. Noel was concerned by these trends and began to do some research on how to improve in these areas.

Millieni-elves are shaping the future of the workshop experience

What he found gave him pause. No matter where they spent their days tinkering, some commonalities arose in what elves value in their workspace. In a recent study that interviewed 500 Millenni-elves (those elves that had been in the workforce for only 1000 years or less), some commonalities rang true.

Optimizing workshop utiilization

Shops that rank high in elf engagement are 21% more productive and have 37% less absenteeism. They also have up to 59% less turnover than their less-engaged counterparts.

“There is nothing more disheartening to see than a disengaged elf. It’s just not in their nature so we knew we had to fix it ASAAP (as soon as angelically possible.) “

In addition to this, elves spend their entire lives training for this job. It is their livelihood. “The only kind of turnover we want to see in the North Pole is of the apple variety!”

Spaces matter for elf engagement

Noel took it upon himself to attend IoT Exchange in Orlando last April. While it gave him the opportunity to visit surrounding theme parks to do market research on his ideal customer, his biggest takeaways were around the technologies he could deploy to improve how his spaces were used. He wanted to make sure elves had the workshop setups that would ensure improvements in spirit and productivity.

Last year they had invested in additional Candy Cane Lane conference rooms and reduced the number of Snowball Bungalows. This had allowed them to save on square footage without needing to lease another building. However, they could see now that this shift simply wasn’t enough to increase elf engagement. Having rooms available was great, but not if it wasn’t easy to book one.

Jolly the Elf explains: “I had an important presentation to give last week about why we needed to enhance security measures on our AI-powered dolls after the release of the latest killer doll movie gave some parents a fright. It took me 15 minutes to find a free room and by then it was time for the bi-hourly cookie break and everyone had their next meeting to go to. Now I need to reschedule and it was a waste of everyone’s Christmas spirit.”

This experience is not uncommon for many elves. Nearly 70% of elves report that finding a place to meet is one of the biggest wastes of Christmas spirit. The average elf wastes 15 mins per day. Multiply this number by 400,000 elves and you’ve got a productivity issue!

While the North Pole has been using a facilities management solution for several years to manage maintenance and lease accounting, this expansion into space management and workplace experience has really helped them address their elf productivity issues.

In fact, in the most recent poll, SLEIGH scores were up 716% and turnover was at an all-time low. Noel is very excited to report these findings at IoT Exchange 2020!

Monitoring equipment near and far

Monitoring the operations of equipment at the North Pole is no small feat. A few things to consider are the extremely cold climate, unpredictable fluctuations on the naughty/nice list, and the global scale of operations. Think of what it takes to ensure that 2 billion chimneys are safe and operable for the CHO to scoot down each year! This can only be done using a state-of-the-art asset monitoring solution. Configurable dashboards and alerts mean that any change in chimney soot density is immediately detected and the nearest remote team is sent to restore to appropriate levels.

Ensuring equipment stays up and running with asset monitoring

On the Pole itself, they can immediately detect when there’s an overgrowth of ice chunks on the equipment that keeps the shops running.

“We have many Musk Oxen and Arctic Hares above the 85th parallel. When it gets cold, they huddle together for warmth. There was one time a few years back that we got a record-breaking cold streak and they needed to go to extreme measures to stay warm. They huddled together near one of our generators because it was emitting heat. But that then caused the generator to overheat. We had no monitoring equipment on it so it went down and caused 14 workshops to go dark for days. So much lost productivity and such a mess! It still makes my cheeks so red to think about!” – Kris, Director of Operations, North Pole

Thankfully now the North Pole has an asset monitoring solution that notifies them when temperatures and conditions are at risk for a similar situation.

“We’ve equipped all 7,000 of our power generators with sensors and are notified as soon as anything goes out of range. We send a crew out to clear the hares, oxen and/or ice chunks so there’s no more interruption to production. We’ve estimated that it has saved us thousands of hours of lost elfpower and many disappointed children. Can’t put a price on that, no sir.”

Bring joy to the world with IoT and AI

The North Pole has aggressive targets to meet and the goal every year is 100% joyful children. Any deviation from that is unacceptable to the elves that dedicate their lives to the toy craft. Joy is the goal and solutions from Watson IoT help the North Pole reach their targets every year. Infusing intelligence into everything from buildings to toys to equipment produces the results they require.

How can you bring more joy to the world? Come share your story and network with your peers at IoT Exchange 2020!

  The post Is Christmas spirit still the North Pole’s greatest asset? appeared first on Internet of Things blog.

Is Christmas spirit still the North Pole’s greatest asset? published first on https://decalsgraphicstore.tumblr.com/

[jackblankhsh]

WHY I QUIT:  The Corn Maze part 1

“‘Oh my god, it’s eating my brain!’

 “‘This is not the job that was advertised,’ I said.

 “‘Help me!’ the professor cried.

 “‘Okay, but...’

 “‘Now!’

 “‘Keep up that attitude you can save yourself.’

 “The professor’s head exploded.  His body fell.  He looked like a kowtowing ragdoll.  The remains of his head slumped to one side, a spectral serpent coiled inside the burst skull.  

 “One of the graduate students whispered, ‘What do we do?’

 “The ghost snake hissed at me.

 “I threw up my hands, ‘I’m out.  I’m done. I quit.’

 “As I walked out of the haunted mansion I could hear the students screaming.  Glancing back I saw blood thump-splat across a window. A grad student jumped through the glass, but the ghost snake, now grown to anaconda proportions darted out, snagging her in midair, and pulled her back inside.

 “Shaking my head I said, ‘Well, not everybody’s cut out for academia.’”

 From the back of the crowd a teenager shouted, “Bullshit.  This guy’s full of shit.”

 I sighed.  There’s one every evening.  My glare parted the audience leaving me with a straight line of sight to the teen.  

 I said, “It’s good to be skeptical.  How about you come see this picture then?”

 I waved my phone at him.  Smugly he approached where I sat.  I patted the bale of hay as I scooted aside allowing room for the boy.  He snatched the phone out of my hand.  

 “What am I looking at?”

  “Can’t you tell?”  

 He frowned, “It looks like a blurry room like in a basement.”

 “Look closer.” I licked my lips.  He held the screen closer.  When it got about an inch away I swiftly smacked the phone into his face.

 Dropping the phone he jumped up shouting, “Ow!  What the hell?”

 The audience laughed.  As the kid stormed off I saw his friends already swarming to mock him.  Picking up my phone I noted the time.

 “Hey everybody, the hayride starts up in a minute.  So if you’re inclined I recommend heading that way.”

 The crowd dispersed, some to the hayride, others to elsewhere.  Those who went elsewhere soon found themselves getting scared by costumed haunters.  Spook crew members leapt from behind piles of pumpkins, bales of hay, or from around buildings.  Delighted shrieks of terror echoed all over the pumpkin patch, and on occasion those who fled from the hired ghouls found themselves chased for a bit.  

 A group of young kids ran screaming from a fiendish scarecrow, who angled away from them to trouble me for a cigarette.  

 Handing Jessica a smoke I said, “Almost quitting time.”

 She sighed a cloud, “Not soon enough.  How’s my makeup?”

 “A little runny, but it’s creepier that way.”

 She shrugged, “I guess.”  The sound of the tractor starting caught her attention.  Perking up she said, “Hayride.  I gotta go.”

 Tossing her cigarette away she bolted.  I couldn't help smiling.  Like many of the employees here, especially the couple of teenagers, she treated this job like the only time she got to openly be herself.  

 Jessica liked to lurk in the cornfield as the hayride passed by.  She placed herself towards the end, an ear pricked to catch anyone complaining about being bored.  Target acquired she leapt onto the side of the cart, letting loose a banshee wail.  So far she got one kid to piss his pants, thereby earning management’s approval.  

 Watching her sprint away infected me with her enthusiasm.  I decided to finish the night in the corn maze.  Stomping out her cigarette – fire hazard – I headed to the entrance of Daphne’s Diabolic Corn Maze, part of Wilson’s Pandemonium Pumpkin Patch.  

 As usual I stumbled into the job unintentionally.  Over drinks and darts a fellow informed me his aunt ran a spooky corn maze about an hour outside Chicago.  Planning to pump in unsettling sounds, she needed help installing audio equipment.  I possessed the skills she needed given my previous, albeit brief stint working the recording gear for a professor and his ghost hunting crew of misfit grad students.  (Never mind that that gig ended badly because I didn’t fail to do my job.  I recorded everything, right on down to the professor’s head exploding -- pop.)  

 But I took the job in the pumpkin patch because it sounded fun.  Not many employment opportunities grant that perk.  Plus, it seemed like a short gig.  However, setting up the sound equipment led to me lending a hand building sets which turned into other offers.  

 By the time we opened for Halloween season I founded myself working the concessions stand, spooking folks in the corn maze, and by direct request of the pumpkin queen, Aunt Daphne Wilson, occasionally telling scary stories to small crowds.  Not everyone gets to terrorize people without having to deal with real life consequences.  Chase a couple kids down the street with a chainsaw; well, the police are liable to shoot such a person.  But here in the Pandemonium Pumpkin Patch I could do just that, and get paid to do so.  Sometimes folks even thanked me for terrifying them.  

 As such I occasionally thought, “This must be what it’s like to be a priest.”

 Carried by a crisp cool breeze, the aroma of deep fried dough wafted through the air. Clusters of teenagers moped everywhere like globs of apathy.  Young children giggled, picking out pumpkins with their parents.  Machines out in the corn quietly, steadily fumed columns of faux fog that made the field seem to be on a smoldering hell-mouth.  The fog rolled across the grounds, shrouding the floodlights in a cinematic manner.  Nearing midnight, it felt like any horror could be possible.

 A banshee wail cut through the quiet.  Customers flinched.  Employees all acquired knowing smirks:  Jessica the scarecrow struck again.  

 Three fiendish haunters presided over the entrance to the maze.  Glenn, a psycho hobo covered in smeared blood, Frank, a classic killer clown, and Allison, a teddy bear with a skinned face.  Frank irregularly burst into hyena-like cachinnations, while Allison softly growled, holding up her face-skin with a cutesy, blood stained paw. They flanked customers, herding them into a loose line by the maze’s entrance.

 Flashing a wide grin full of scummy teeth Glenn stood at the opening in the corn.  In a gravelly voice he announced the rules, “Listen closely.  None of our performers will touch you, so please return the favor – do not touch them. Stay on the path at all times.  No running.  No flashlights.  No photography.  No hope, all ye who enter here; you four come on now into the hell that awaits.”

 And so another bunch entered the maze.  The giggling pack of pre-teens could soon be heard shouting in happy horror.

 Nearing Glenn I overheard him mutter, “Why’s that always get my dick hard?”

 It’s a certain kind of person who goes in for hired spooking.  The pay is not great.  The hours often feel longer than they are.  It requires enduring heaps of boredom and scorn.  There’s always someone unimpressed enough to feel the need to tell a ghoul it isn’t frightening; and it takes fortitude not to turn the moment then and there into a real horror show.  If I had a dollar for every smartass I didn’t stab – I may have choked a few while shouting, “It’s all make-believe,” but they got out alive.  Like any kind of performance art it’s a job devoted to those brief shining moments when the screams are real, or a customer’s eyes are smiling.

 Glenn, Allison, and Frank belonged to rare breed of performers.  They toured the country in an RV, cruising from seasonal gig to seasonal gig.  In the summer they did Renaissance Faires, haunted houses in the Fall, and Christmas towns in Winter.  In-between they auditioned for any local plays, and even staged what they called “guerilla theatre” by simply tossing down a cap, and performing scenes for whatever coins came their way.

 Allison told me three times, “We’re on the subway in New York, started doing Hamlet, and next thing I know – no joke – we’ve done the whole play.  And what with it being just like the three of us, it got kind of schizo, but fucking fun.”

 That last bit sums up the average hired haunter:  kind of schizo, but fucking fun.  After all, it’s madness to stand silently in the darkness, waiting patiently to step out of the shadows for all of a second hoping your audience will hurry from you screaming because in the end they aren’t meant to stand in silent appreciation of one’s portrayal of a zombie, slasher, swamp hag, ghost, demon, etc. The goal is to be an unwelcome presence safely encountered like the police.

Working here reminded me of the first time I went to a concert.  I felt surrounded by like minded folks.  For some belonging is a rare feeling, and in this place the scare-makers and horror hounds truly belonged.  Back in the everyday ordinary world wearing corpse paint to a the grocery store gets odd looks, maybe even the manager asks a fellow to leave the store even though he's just buying the fixings for risotto -- I will get revenge on that store, mark my words -- but in the Pandemonium Pumpkin Patch the freaks rule.  

 I asked Glenn, “How’s the night?”

 He shrugged, “We got a few left then we’re shutting down.  You comin’ by later?”

 Glenn and company stayed on the grounds, camping out of their RV.  On occasion we stayed up for hours afterward swapping stories, passing a bottle around a campfire, and enjoying the rural silence.  

 “I might.  I’m gonna duck in, cause a few scares.”

 Frank said, “Try not to be a dick.”

  “I’m only a dick to the dicks.”

 Frank nodded, “Yeah, but when you dragged that guy into the middle of the cornfield...”

 Cutting him off, “I got lost too.”

 “Not the point,” Frank said.

 I added, “He slapped a living doll.  Those ladies aren’t older than fifteen.”

 Glenn interjected, “You both got good points.  I think where Frank is going, though, is ’s been a quiet evenin’.  We wanna keep it that way.”

 Sighing I conceded, “Fair enough.”

 "Alright then."  Glenn stepped aside, "In ya go."

 So I went into the maze.