#gard ga ga ga gard

[baba-the-yagaa]

I forgot how much of a masterpiece 'They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard' is

side note: does anyone have teh background music for that, bc its so good and i want to hear the full theme in that pump synth bass version idk what to call it

[mitsymitsytarantula3]

BEAR 1000%

midori, saki, airi, minori, mikoto (left > right)

justice for them bro ☹️

[carcosacurations]

mask

[mistersaturn123]

This might be legitimately one of the most frightening pieces of music I've ever heard.

[tovaicas]

lucia is a far more interesting character in that regard than gaius ever will be for the pure simple fact if she thinks of ishgard as a better forever home, than how fucking much of a shithole is garlemald in comparison.

[monkeyssalad-blog]

BERG, Joop van der. Giftgas, 1929. by Halloween HJB Via Flickr: From Wikipedia: "'Poison Gas' (German: 'Giftgas') is a 1929 German silent drama film directed by Mikhail Dubson and starring Hans Stüwe, Lissy Arna and Alfred Abel. It is based on the play Poison Gas over Berlin by Peter Martin Lampel."

[softzindagi]

been a day

[imababblekat]

Vicarious Happiness

Anon Request, “Hi!! I love your work so much and I hope your doing wellI have a request if thats cool, it's fluffy raphael x reader(she/her) and it's like raph being all soft for once and letting his gard down and laughing and his brothers seeing this and they get all sappy”

~xXx~

It was the sounds of loud, hardy laughter that drew Leo from his once peaceful meditation. He knew that laugh and felt a familiar agitation itch at his mind, wondering what prank Raphael had pulled on Mikey this time. However, when he stepped out into the main living portion of the lair, he was quickly surprised to find the red banned turtle to not be cackling at his youngest brothers peril, but instead joyfully laughing along with you. While his laughter was louder and much deeper, no one could miss the cherry colored blush of your face as you laughed equally along. The leader of the four brothers made his way over to the kitchen, where he had spotted his two other siblings apparently watching the wholesome scene between Raph and the brothers close friend. “Donnie, you didn’t drop laughing gas again did you?”, Leo questioned with a raised brow and covering his snout. Hazel eyes glared behind self made classes. “I’ll have you know that was Casey’s fault! Also, no, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” Rolling his own eyes, Leo pointed a thumb over to where you and Raph sat close on the couch. “I ask because I’ve never seen Raph like that unless he did something. What’s up with him?” “Can’t you tell?”, Mikey jumped in with a swoon, batting non-existent lashes at Leo, “What’s up with Raph is (y,n)!” Leo scoffed, shoving Mikey out of his personal space as the other wiggled his brows. “Wait, are you guys serious? I know the two are close, but Raph like that? No way!” The two youngest brothers only smirked at each other, Donnie then stepping over to throw an arm around Leo. “Au contraire, my dear brother. Just take a look for yourself.” Leo did, and as he took a moment to really examine the scene before him, it wasn’t long till he caught on just like Mikey and Donnie had. It was the way Raphael looked at you, as you babbled on about something random but dear to yourself. His eyes held a fondness so rarely seen for someone such as him, a softness to his gaze rather than typical annoyance. It was as though he was deaf to your words, instead memorized and taking to memory the way you shined and glowed as you spoke so excitedly. However, Leo was also sure that for you, Raph was also making an effort to remember each and every single one of the words your spoke. Your voice and tone sounding like a melody to the terrapin no doubt. His body language was also a dead give away. Rather than taut or imposingly flexed, Raph sat comfortably with an air of, dare Leo even think it, vulnerability. There was not a sense of guardedness, no such thing as what he gave even around those he considered friends. With an arm slung over the couch and just an inch from being wrapped over your shoulders, an amorous smile and wholesome gaze still on your fast talking self, it was as though in that moment you were Raphael’s entire world. A cheeky grin found its way to Leo’s face. While he was already thinking of ways to tease the broad ninja turtle later, he at the same time couldn’t help but feel a sense of joyfulness for the other. The honorary leader had always been of a realistic mindset, had always been one hundred percent certain that they would never get to experience the pleasures of normal people. While a few years younger version of him would have been skeptical and jaded of this situation, the current more mature him felt nothing but elation. He’d always expected out of any of them for Mikey to somehow end up with a human partner if anything, but seeing Raphael of all people, soft and full of passion, it truly made him happy for the brother he’d so often fight with. Glancing over to Donnie and Mikey, the fondness they each shared while also watching the deepening bond shared between you and Raphael, he had a feeling they felt the same.

~xXx~

[therobotmonster]

A Baffling Tribute to 80s Music Video Weirdness

The music video was more than just a great way to advertise your band, it was a way to do something weird as hell that would stick in your audience's mind and give a director or team of animators a chance to really stretch their legs.

Yeah, we'll be hitting some classics you knew, but hey, here's that song from Ferris Beuller's Day Off and about a dozen other movies, TV shows, and food commercials.

Turns out the song is about the beauty of nature, and "Yello" isn't even a reference to the color, but is rather "A Yelled Hello". This is, from what I've gathered, pretty standard for a Swiss Electronic Music group.

Untapped potential for the indie horror genre in Herbie Hancock's "Rock it" with whole new fields of strange animatronics.

Strange abstract costumed characters interacting in a song that makes a lot more sense with the original uncensored lyric "when I was a very small boy, very small boys talked to me, now that we've grown up together, they're all taking drugs with me."

TMBG would be a huge selection of weird music videos if I let them, so we'll focus just on Istanbul (Not Constantinople). TMBG had a policy of the videos never really having anything to do with the song lyrics, and every one is a weird surprise because of it.

You are commanded to enjoy.

The Talking Heads also had a lot of weird videos, and while everyone would expect Burning Down the House, I like Road to Nowhere better. Enjoy.

I saw this on an AlTV special, and could never find it because there's a lot of songs with this name, and Hilly Michaels isn't well known.

It's a sort of colored pencil rotoscoped animation thing and it's just perfect.

Oh hey guys, is this really necessary, can't we leave the deli tray out and split out of here?

TOO LATE! I'm posting Gor-Gor by GWAR. If I had to have my mind blown at 2am on Headbanger's ball at a sleepover at my cousin's place, you can have yours blown on the tumblr.dot.com in the year of your lord 2024.

Is Devo cheating? I feel like it might be.

Cyndi Lauper made great videos, but for absolute mind bending oddness, the Goonies tie-in video "Goonies R Good Enough" qualifies on the basis of the 2:15 minute mini-movie featuring Cyndi Lauper, her real life dad Captain Lou Albano, and a host of (at the time) WWF wrestlers that frames the video with Rick Flair trying to foreclose on the family gas station.

The music video ends on a cliffhanger. To this day no one knows how Cyndi got out of that mess. Someone rescued her. Moe, lets say.

I believe this is the Avant-Garde, and it does apear they never give up.

Curses, the ten video limit is hit! I may return soon!

[yourpicasso25]

The secret, part 2

Hey, I'm back!

Sorry about last week, but I was very, very sick? Very bad attack of flemmingite aigue!

Translated in English, I was feeling lazy as f*ck, so I just watched Youtuvideos. I'm sure you know how it goes. Feeling better now, but still have little to show to show for it.

Speaking of lazyness...

I know I waxed lyrical about food and markets and all that jazz, but one can't really live on the local production.

One can only do so much with fish, after all.

So we have Supermarchés Lapompe. Not Walmart, but the small chain (2 markets) does brsk business with both locals and tourits in both basic nececities... and about a ton of of junk food, let's be honest here. And that's the dirty little secret we're don't really like to talk about.

The Lapompe family also deal in fuel, gas, and electricity proction and storage. Their home lot is shaping to be something else!

I didn't upload that one because it's a very basic one, sure y'all can do just as well.

Otherwise, I had a CAS moment. I know, weird.

I made that quite big appartent building nect to the market last time, and the inhabitant just came to life in my head. Happens sometimes.

So, meet the Boucicaud family:

Bernard Boucicaud.

He is the reason the famijy is here, since the building they're residing in belonged to his grandparents. Bernard was born here,tail ending the boomer generation, but he grew up in Paris, since his parent hightailed out of Vogoel to make careers and a life as far away from anything fishy as possible.

Bernard had very nice vacation in his grandmother house as a boy.

However, as his parent fled Vogoel, Bernard fled Paris to traval the world, because he was an artist.

In Delhi, he met

Lucie

Then Dolman, now Boucicaud. Same kind of story except she's from Marseille.

They both liked to travel, so they did, Bernard managing some free-lance photographing to earn a little money and Lucy learning Yoga and stuff.

Both probably smoking funny stuf.

But time flies, and a baby girl was bord... and there is one day when you long for a nice bed and some creature comfort, so they came back to France.

Infortunately, neither were talented enough as artist to "make it" in the capital. So Bernard remembered his Mémé house, which his parent didn't really use and were quite happy to get rid of. It provide a far more luxurious accomodation than what they could afford in Paris, and it's would be a far better place for their girl to grow up in.

And here is said girl, Namaste Boucicaud.

Let's make it clear, not a happy bunny.

First, why did those idiot boomer parents she's saddled with had to name her Namaste? She hates it! honestly, Grertrude would be nicer!

And OMG the parents! Couldn't they be, I don't know, a little bit NORMAL once in a while? (well, they're both Avant Garde, so the teen may have a point here)

At least her father had some job with the local paper, so Namaste could forget the cheesy seagull photos to sell to tourists... and the paintings.

And her mother, still dressing like she was young, in jeans and exotic tops!

Honestly, Namaste can't wait to get her Bacalaureat and flee to Paris to her grand parents who are normal people and call her Nathalie.

"Where you will go to the Beaux Arts, dear. Not of that nonsense about being an accoundtant like your grandfather, do you hear me? Open your chakras, honey..."

But MOOOOMM!!!

[keanuquotes]

The Enduring Appeal of Keanu Reeves He battles evildoers in 'John Wick 4,' manufactures two-wheel pieces of art, and is worshiped by the internet, but Keanu Reeves swears he's just a normal guy. And he’s got the scars to prove it. Ky HendersonMar 15, 2023 9:00 AM EDT It’s easy to look cool when you’re riding a motorcycle, but it’s hard to look cooler than Keanu Reeves on a brisk, sunny afternoon in Los Angeles. He rests his left hand on his thigh and steers with his right, which gooses the throttle as he weaves around slow drivers. He wears a form-fitting black canvas motorcycle jacket that accentuates how trim he is—even more fit than he appears on-screen—and a beat-up Shoei helmet. He leaves the visor up, choosing instead to shield his eyes with sunglasses the Terminator might wear to a Hamptons garden party. Reeves looks at home and at ease on a motorcycle. He looks cool.

At a gas station stop, he suggests switching bikes. We’re each riding cruisers made by Arch, the motorcycle company Reeves co-founded with designer Gard Hollinger in 2011. The company produces high-end, highly personalized production bikes; I’m on a 1s, the company’s new $100,000+ sport cruiser. Reeves is on an older model, KRGT-1, but it’s his personal Arch, a true one-of-a-kind. It's the only Arch ever painted YK Blue, a color Reeves and Hollinger commissioned based on the ultramarine pigment famously mixed by mid-century French artist Yves Klein. Reeves says all that’s left of the paint is in a tiny can stored somewhere at Arch in case the bike’s paint ever needs touch-ups.

Which it most certainly would if, let’s say, some idiot were to put the bike down in front of a horrified Reeves while riding down the Pacific Coast Highway. Thankfully, there’ll be no lowsides today. Although the bike is beefy, with a 2,032cc V-twin powerplant, it’s easy to maneuver and comfy as a BarcaLounger.

Keanu Reeves stands in motorcycle factory holding blue mug Brian Bowen Smith

Reeves eventually leads us back to Arch’s factory building, which is nondescript from the outside but artfully decorated inside using shipping containers to separate working areas. Metal fabrication is done behind one; customer bikes are lined up in another with technicians hard at work. After Reeves dips outside for a cigarette—the 58-year-old both looks like a much younger man and smokes with the frequent abandon of one—he leads us to a small conference room.

“I like meeting people, but I’m a little reserved,” he warns as he settles into an office chair, looking far less comfortable than he did on a motorcycle. “How much of my private life do I want to talk about? I don’t know. Otherwise, let’s hang out.”

When Reeves was growing up in the Yorkville neighborhood of Toronto, he was consumed with existential thoughts. He discussed death a lot more than the average 11-year-old, for instance—but not because he wanted to die. He just wanted answers to big questions. Perhaps not entirely unrelated to his interest in mortality, he was also obsessed with the biker gangs that periodically motored into the neighborhood. It wasn't pods of dentists letting loose on weekends. It was leathers, patches, menace—the whole deal. And Reeves loved it.

“They looked exotic,” Reeves says. "They looked to me like they were free. Plus the bikes were cool and sounded great.”

Despite his childhood fascination, Reeves was in his early 20s before he first rode a motorcycle. It happened at a movie studio in Berlin—where else?—when he saw a woman on an off-road enduro bike in a parking lot. He approached her and asked if she’d teach him to ride, which she agreed to on the spot. (If you’re wondering why a woman would do that for a total stranger, search “Keanu Reeves in the 80s” in Google Images.)

Not long after he got back to Los Angeles, he bought a 1973 Mk2a Norton Commando, having long admired the classic brand. That bike currently sits in the Arch shop, which is notable for two reasons: One, few longtime riders are lucky enough to be able to hold onto their first bike. Two, over the years Reeves has…suffered some mishaps.

“Yeah, I’ve fallen off a few times,” he admits of the accidents he’s had on a variety of bikes. He takes a swig of water, then corrects himself. “Not ‘fallen off.’ Crashed. I’ve got a couple of hit-by-cars. A couple of going-too-fast. I’ve laid a couple of bikes down but I was riding in the winter, so that’s not really ‘crashing.’ That’s about it. The usual stuff.”

He’s broken ribs, knocked out teeth, sliced his leg open so deep that bone was visible. His most spectacular accident occurred in 1988, only a couple years after that day in Berlin. Reeves was riding alone at night in Malibu’s Topanga Canyon when he took one of the twisties too fast. By the time he came to a stop, he was lying on the pavement wondering if he was about to die. As you know, he didn’t—but he did fuck himself up pretty bad.

“I ruptured my spleen,” he says matter-of-factly. The widely reported version of the story goes that he needed the organ removed, but Reeves says it’s still intact. “They sutured it up and put a Band-Aid on.” He has a gnarly scar running vertically from his sternum down to his belly button, but in the right light it just ends up accentuating his abs because, well, he’s Keanu.

Reeves first met Hollinger through a mutual acquaintance about two decades after that crash, when Reeves wanted a custom sissy bar—basically, a backrest for a passenger—added to his 2005 Harley Davidson Dyna. Hollinger, who at that point was a relatively well-known, well-respected customizer with his own small LA shop, wasn’t interested.

“I knew I could build him the world’s most expensive sissy bar,” Hollinger says, “but I also knew it wouldn’t be satisfying for either of us.”

Instead, Hollinger spent the next five years completely reimagining the bike. He’d work in spurts, changing or adding something, then handing the bike back over to Reeves for months. By the time the bike was finished, Hollinger says, about the only parts of the original Dyna still remaining were the engine and the serial number on the chassis. Today that bike—a chromed-out ride fit for Mad Max—is displayed in the shop, the inspiration for what eventually became Arch.

Keanu Reeves on motorcycle wearing black canvas jacket and sunglasses Brian Bowen Smith

Eventually being the key word. When, during the long process of modding the bike, Reeves first suggested to Hollinger that the two team up to start a motorcycle company, Hollinger didn’t have to think about his answer.

“I knew what a tough business it is, what a challenge it would be—and that it would not be a great investment,” Hollinger, now 63, says with a laugh. “It was a wonderful motorcycle I built and it was wonderful getting to know Keanu, but starting a motorcycle company sounded like a horrible idea.”

Reeves didn’t relent. As the pair became better friends—and as the motorcycle continued to take shape—they’d have long conversations about the realities of starting the company. Hollinger would show up to their discussions with pages of questions written on a legal pad, but what gradually eroded his hesitation was the thoughtfulness with which Reeves described the experience of riding a motorcycle.

Finally, nearly convinced, Hollinger asked Reeves to boil everything down to one reason why they should do something as seemingly crazy as starting a motorcycle company. The actor came up with it on the spot—a reason Hollinger immediately understood, which allowed him to envision the company and its worth as an opportunity to do something meaningful and long-lasting.

“Because,” Reeves told him, channeling the mortality-obsessed 11-year-old kid gawking at dudes on motorcycles, “we’re going to die.”

Related: 2023 Arch 1s Sport Cruiser Is the American (V-twin) Dream

There have been many jokes made over the years about Reeves being a dummy, but after spending about 8 seconds with the guy it’s obvious he’s keenly intelligent. I mention that I read lots of sci-fi and fantasy books as a kid, which prompts him to ask whether I have opinions on several titles, followed by recommendations to read several others.

Thing is, his idiosyncratic public persona—which is sort of like Ted (not Bill) if Ted were a little more shy and a much better dresser—isn’t an act. Reeves isn’t trying to fool his critics or fans. And he isn’t really putting on an act in an attempt to prevent people from knowing who he is. He’s just this very singular, introspective, likable person who happened to become a pop culture icon.

All of that said? He can be pretty goofy. His physical mannerisms are sometimes at odds with what he’s saying, like he’s being controlled by feuding puppeteers. He speaks haltingly, stopping and starting and stopping again, often all in the same sentence, as he considers what exactly he wants to say or, just as likely, what he doesn’t want to say. More than once over the course of an afternoon he giggles—yes, giggles—at something he says or thinks, placing his cupped hand over his mouth like a theatrical school child hiding laughter; the gesture is as strange as it is endearing. He's somehow both laconic and verbose, calm and keyed up.

Although Reeves has long been known as “The internet’s boyfriend,” he’s currently dating—sorry, internet—acclaimed visual artist Alexandra Grant. The pair first collaborated on the 2011 book Ode to Happiness after having known each other previously; in the following years they collaborated on other projects and co-founded the small book imprint X Artists’ Books. Their romantic relationship began about five years ago but only became public knowledge two years in, when they arrived at a red carpet event together.

When asked about Grant, Reeves leans back in his chair as though trying to put both metaphorical and literal distance between himself and the idea of discussing his personal life.

So, uh, maybe it’s best to make it about bikes: What’s Grant’s opinion of Reeves’ (occasionally injurious) motorcycle fixation?

“She used to have a motorcycle, so she’s fine with it,” Reeves says. Then he pauses, as he so often does, seemingly considering whether to say anything more. “She hasn’t ridden in a while.”

Despite his lifelong love of bikes, Reeves hasn’t ridden them much in his movies. There’s a brief scene in the landmark 1991 indie film My Own Private Idaho. There’s some riding in 1996’s Chain Reaction, including one scene in which he manages to outrun an exploding hydrogen reactor. He’s technically on a bike in John Wick 3 while battling bad guys, but that was all done while stationary in front of a green screen. He has no interest in shoehorning Arches into his movies, though a couple of Arches are featured in the futuristic 2020 video game Cyberpunk 2077, in which he also played a major role.

Reeves says there’s a brief motorcycle scene in the upcoming John Wick 4, a movie whose eventual existence might have been laughed at when the original film debuted. Despite the series’ current status as an unstoppable franchise juggernaut, it originally wasn’t even planned as a franchise—and it certainly didn’t appear destined to be one after John Wick received a somewhat tepid theatrical reception in 2014.

“It had some success in the theater, but it really became more popular in second viewings,” Reeves says. “So the studio asked if we wanted to do another one.”

Reeves does more than just kick unbelievable amounts of ass in the movies; he’s also had a hand in plotting out the sequels. The genesis of the third and fourth installments, he says, took place while he and director Chad Stahelski were on the road promoting the second and third movies, respectively.

“Generally, Chad and I cook ’em up while we’re doing press tours,” Reeves says. “We talk about what we’d do next if the current film does well. I’m like, ‘I want to ride a horse and do a horse chase!’ And Chad says, ‘Yeah, we can do it in Central Park!’”

Reeves says he doesn’t know what comes next for him, but John Wick 5 will almost certainly be an option—if he wants to do it. He’s currently developing a TV series, and maybe he’ll make the motorcycle road movie he’s long thought about making. He’ll also no doubt continue riding bikes and growing Arch because he loves doing both.

He says he may continue BRZRKR, the comic series he co-writes. He won’t stop helping others via his philanthropy (he declines to discuss other than to say it’s “in health and the arts”). And he’ll burnish his already-glowing reputation as, in his words, “a pretty respectful and considerate person,” because that’s how he likes to treat people.

“I’m just,” Reeves says as his mouth curls into a smirk and his arms shoot out in front of him as though he’s pleading to be believed, “a normal guy.”

via keanuworld

[tapwater118]

what are your thoughts on the whole “firey got run over by a bus and roboty got to join for an episode until firey came back from the hospital and revealed he actually went into labor” arc? i found it kinda out of nowhere but i suppose it kinda fits with what post split was doing in a sense if you take a step back i guess. in like sort of an avant-garde of way

anon have you checked your house for gas leaks recently

[anakinfests]

day two is here! check out these beautiful works!

day two twitter thread: here

01. Wants and Needs by anonymous

On a planet whose atmosphere is filled with a gas with... interesting side effects, Anakin and Obi-Wan are sent to take out a Separatist base. Fill for the Rough Sex square in the 2023 Obikin Bingo as well as a prompt claim for the Sub!Anakin Fest

02. Bare grace misery by anonymous

Anakin let out a pained sound. “I failed my men, I failed you, and now… and now this. Could you, Obi-Wan? Could you come from this humiliation?” His voice broke, and then he was weeping, hot tears streaming down his face even as he kept stroking himself, his sobs of shame intermingling with his whimpers of pleasure. The mixture was so unbelievably erotic Obi-Wan felt his head spin. Or: Anakin gets poisoned, and the antidote that saves his life has some uncomfortable side effects.

03. Serenity, Serenity by anonymous

After learning that the Separatists have gained the favor of a weapons manufacturer that has the power to overturn the Clone Wars, a freshly knighted Anakin and Master Obi-Wan must infiltrate the organization's inner circle and eliminate the partnership at an exclusive event posed as black market dealers. The problem is, the two of them have to act as a married couple, Anakin assuming the role of coy, submissive husband to a domineering and firm handed Obi-Wan. Between Anakin's not-so-subtle pining, Obi-Wan's suppressed emotions, and the fate of the Republic on the line, the two of them must confront their messy feelings for one another over a game of high-stakes, winner takes all sabacc.

04. Subakin and his Obi-Dom by anonymous

Anakin Skywalker was forever in denial. He could not admit, no sorry, would never accept he was a sub. No Never. He, the great and powerful Jedi Knight, was destined to be a dom, and he would not stop until his desires came to pass.

05. no fault of my own by anonymous

“You know you’re not supposed to like this,” Obi-Wan murmured, “and here you are, so wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you.” Anakin looked away, blinking back tears that threatened to well up in his eyes at his master’s disapproval, but he leaked more slick into his lap all the same. “I’m sorry, Master,” he quavered. “I can’t help it!”

06. En Garde, Prêt, Allez by anonymous

Anakin Skywalker is a highly skilled fencer, known for his fast pace and brutal attack style. Young and arrogant, he carries himself as a man who knows he's going to win - no matter the cost. Obi-Wan Kenobi is an equally talented fencer who has more titles and championships attached to his name than most could ever dream of, and who has the respect and admiration from everyone in the community. When the two are paired off against each other during the World Championships, Anakin is caught between wanting to prove himself and win the title, and not dethroning a man who has inspired him both on and off the piste. They say never meet your heroes - and certainly never kick their ass in front of a stadium full of their peers - but winning on the piste might bring more treasures and rewards to Anakin than he ever thought possible.

07. Who's Loving You by anonymous

Anakin Skywalker was the luckiest man alive. He had the relationship he had always desired. Well, almost.

[miniongrin]

Statute of Limitations (Immortals AU)

Wrote 800 words for an AU that’s been rotating in my brain for over a year that I still haven’t written, but I’m posting this anyway because I do what I want.

AU context, sparknotes edition: Ingo couldn’t get sent back directly to the future for timey-wimey reasons and spent 140 years immortal, chilling in the Coronet Highlands. Accidentally befriended/tamed/domesticated the feral cat of a man we know as Volo (also immortal) while he was waiting to catch up to the future and his twin. Now the Nimbasa trio has been reunited for over a year and Volo is the twins’ weird roommate and Elesa’s bitchiest bestie.

~

“Hang on,” Elesa says one night, as they’re sitting around the twins’ living room eating Sinnoh takeout, two and a half hours and two-thirds of the way into an hour-long documentary on Hisui. They keep pausing to give Ingo and Volo the chance to expound on whatever topic the documentary didn’t have the time or information to elaborate on themselves; Ingo’s infodumping is familiar and comforting, while Volo’s is a bit of a surprise but hilariously bitchy. Even when the documentary gets things right. “Volo—you consulted on this? Historically?”

“That makes it sound like I did so fifty years ago,” Volo sniffs. “I was a historical consultant on the topic. Mostly by mail; by the time they were making this, Cynthia was a little too popular for me to go wandering around Sinnoh without a good excuse for looking like her fraternal twin.”

So, yes, but in fifty words instead of one. Cool. “You like… you got paid money for this? Is this your job?”

Volo makes an dismissive sound. “Yes, I got paid for it, but it’s not exactly reliable work, nor does it pay greatly. As a historian, the best money is in research grants, but those are a little hard to get a hold of without extensive history at a university, and my need to shuffle identities every decade or so did clash with the need to accumulate that sort of history.”

“…So, yes but no?”

Volo rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, but no.”

Elesa mulls over that. She doesn’t unpause the documentary just yet, because there’s a niggling question in her brain now—

“Do you have a job?” Emmet asks before she can. “You’re here a lot.”

Volo huffs, deciding to take offense in that catty way of his, so Elesa jumps in before letting him answer: “Dude, you’re clearly loaded, I have never once heard you say a thing about hopping back and forth between here and Sinnoh and plane tickets aren’t cheap. Frankly, neither is this apartment, and I’d be surprised if you’re just letting the twins pay for it all.”

Volo regards her shrewdly for a moment, then hums as his eyes slide away. “Don’t worry about it.”

That is the least satisfying answer on the planet. She and Emmet immediately turn to Ingo for answers.

“I do not worry about it,” Ingo says immediately.

Elesa and Emmet’s eyes meet. Weird, suspicious emphasis with no real answer. Hmmm.

“I am Emmet. Are we harboring a fucking criminal?” Emmet demands.

Volo sputters. “I beg your pardon? That’s your first assumption?”

“That’s not an answer,” Elesa points out, entertained. “He’s only going to get more suspicious the more you avoid giving one.”

“And you, of course, are virtuously on my side,” Volo mutters bitchily. “The disrespect! And here I thought we had something. A camaraderie, if you will—”

“It’s not like you’re a poacher, Ingo would worry about it a whole lot if that were the case,” Elesa interrupts him. “I can’t really imagine you beating someone up—”

“I can,” Emmet says.

“—without going full-on crazy eyes,” Elesa corrects herself. “So this hypothetical crime you may have committed and have definitely not denied committing is probably, y’know. Petty. Which fits, because you are a petty, petty bitch!”

“I,” Volo says with dignity, “am the classiest bitch any of you will ever meet.”

“I am the classiest bitch in this room, but nice try.”

“You’re all cutting-edge fashion and avant-garde, that’s not the same thing as class.”

Elesa gasps loudly in overblown offense. “You take that back!”

“Ladies, you are both pretty,” Emmet intones. “Ingo. Has Volo committed crimes? Yes or no.”

Ingo pinches the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t have a valid birth certificate and yet has had a functional passport for decades despite being stuck at twenty-seven. Of course he’s committed crimes, we knew that already.”

“I am Emmet. I meant for money.”

Ingo shrugs and reaches for a new can of soda. “Well, that’s none of my business.”

“Ingo.”

“Look,” Volo sighs, “can any of you truthfully tell me that you’ve never talked to a particularly out-of-touch gentleman whose lone battling Pokémon is holding a useless nugget of gold worth more than everything you have on your person and thought, you know, I bet I have an island somewhere that I could sell this moron?”

There’s a beat of silence. Emmet snorts. Ingo puts a hand over his face that doesn’t hide the amused curl to the corner of his mouth.

Elesa cackles. “Oh dragons, you scam rich people for a living? I need to hear about this right now immediately. Story time! Funniest scam you’ve done, let’s go.”

“Accusing me of being a scam artist now?” Volo snips facetiously, but he’s smirking. “I will confess to nothing. …At least, not until I have the chance to check the statute of limitations for a few things.”

[annoyingblondebracket]

Legolas propaganda

They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Gard, gard, gard, gard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Gard, gard, ga-gard, gard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! What did you say? The Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits To Isengard, to Isengard! The Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits To Isengard, to Isengard! The Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits, the Hobbits To Isengard, to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Gard, ga-ga-ga-gard! Tell me where is Gandalf for I much desire to speak with him Tell me where is Gandalf for I much desire to speak with him A balrog of Morgoth What did you say? A balrog of Morgoth What did you say? They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Stupid, fat Hobbit They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Stupid, fat Hobbit They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard! Stupid, fat Hobbit Leave now and never come back!