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onwednesdayswewrite · 1 year

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this hell is better with you {tara carpenter}

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence for scream, talk of murder, blood, smoking weed, cursing, misuse of prescription drugs, dark themes. CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SCREAM 6

Word Count: 3.5k

hey y’all, I had a ton of fun writing this, and have a few more ideas in this little universe so let me know if you would be interested in seeing more!

chapter 2: you, tara carpenter, have stolen my heart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the fall of your senior year at Blackmore University when you first realized you loved Tara Carpenter. Your heated debates over Geoffrey Chaucer and Jane Austen had drawn you closer to her. Being the overachiever she was, Tara was taking English Lit as a freshman; while you barely scraped by to get a passing grade. Though your time together was usually cut short, you couldn’t miss the way even the overly bright fluorescent lecture hall lights made her eyes sparkle. Or the way the memory of summer days danced across her cheeks in the form of freckles. Or the way that little scar by her eye crinkled whenever she smiled.

Of course you knew of the Woodsboro native’s past, everyone did. It didn’t terrify you like it did most, it only excited you.

Your encounters had been limited to a few study sessions and passing each other on campus. You wanted more, but her friend group always lingered. Mindy was sweet, a bit of a geek but you found it appealing. And Mindy’s girlfriend, Anika was nice too but you didn't know her well. And Quinn, you liked Quinn. Of course then there was Chad. You didn’t like Chad one bit. Chad rubbed you the wrong way. He always walked around acting like he owned everything. Including Tara.

And Sam? Well Sam was a whole different monster entirely.

The day started like most did these days. A double at the hospital meant the twelve block trek back to your off-campus apartment would be hell. The caffeine pumping through your veins did little to ease the exhaustion. It was a Sunday which meant you only had a few hours of peace before you had to begin studying for morning classes. You wanted nothing more than to fill those hours with sleep but the constant honking of horns and the wailing of sirens made it seem unlikely. It was days like this where you wished New York City wasn’t the city that never slept, even if it was the middle of the day.

As the hustle began to ease closer to your apartment, the sounds of sirens continued to fill the air. You didn’t live in the best part of town, but this was unusual. Your phone buzzed in the leg of your scrub pocket. It was a notification from the News app that came pre-installed on your phone. The heading read ‘police release names of Blackmore students murdered to be that of Anika Kayoko and Quinn Bailey’. You felt lighter now, that takes care of two of Tara's friends. Poor Mindy though, she seemed to really like Anika. Your bitten-down fingertips hit the notification, and scanned the article. ‘Kayoko and Bailey were in Bailey's midtown apartment when the attacks took place.’

Your blood ran cold and you felt your heart plummet to your feet, Quinn was Tara’s roommate. Was Tara okay? Your mind ran through every possibility, before you took a moment to settle. Think rationally, y/n. You had been floated to the surgical floor, if anything too bad had happened, you would have known.

It was when you were about half a block from your apartment and the sirens only got louder and louder you grew concerned. You didn’t live that close to the Carpenter’s and there shouldn’t still be police activity.

When you turned the ally onto your street you knew something was very wrong. The entire block filled with every first responder in the area. New York’s finest. The fire department. Paramedics and emergency medical technicians. The coroner.

‘They found you y/n. I told you that you should have hidden the body better’ the bottle of pills shook in the pocket of your thrift store jacket. Maybe an extra one wouldn’t hurt, they would kick you from the nursing program if they knew about the voices. The bottle rolled between your fingers when you pulled it from your pocket. Only 13 pills left, you couldn’t risk what would happen if you ran out. You slid the bottle back into the pocket and zipped it shut.

You quickly realized things were not as they seemed when you spotted none other than Samantha Carpenter amongst the crowd. Her body was covered in blood. It didn’t seem to be her blood, but where the hell was Tara? You knew Sam never let her far from sight, so Tara had been with her? Sam didn’t seem overly upset given the situation.

Your worries dissipated into the air when Tara hopped down from the back of an ambulance. Your heart settled in your chest. She was walking, talking with Sam and another blonde woman and seemed fairly unharmed. And she looked even more beautiful now than you swore she had before. The way the red and blue lights of the ambulance reflected against her chocolate eyes. And being soaked in blood that wasn’t her own was a good look. Though her arm was in a sling, the white fabric tightened around her neck. A rather shitty job, you could have done better yourself.

You observed them as they spoke for a few moments. They were just a little too far to hear the conversation, but you certainly saw when Tara’s face crumbled. Oh. Oh. She was crying now, tears driving her mascara stains farther down her cheeks. You had never seen her cry before, and the deep pit forming in your stomach told you that you would never let it happen again. Now if you could only get your hands on whoever did this you would rip-

“Hey, we got another one here” a grimace of pain flashed across her face from the movement, but it didn’t stop Tara from rushing to greet the second paramedic squad rolling a gurney from within the theater.

“Chad, Chad” Tara’s voice cracked when she called out to him, nothing but joy laced in her words.

“How are you alive?” Sam joined Tara at the side of the stretcher. A stupid boyish smile found its way to Chad’s face under the oxygen mask as he held up four shaky, bloodied fingers.

“Core fucking four” Tara let out a watery giggle, and a smile followed. A wide smile. One that made dimples crinkle up the skin on her blood stained cheeks. Normally it would have settled the fire in your stomach, but not this time. Not when Chad was the reason for it. Not when Tara was clinging to him, tightly gripping his arm, scared that he would leave her.

‘They should have just let him die, he’s too close to Tara’ the voice echoed through your head. The pill bottle felt heavy in your pocket now. You untightened the safety cap and dry swallowed the pill. 12 pills would have to be enough. You would make it be enough.

“Oh my god are you guys okay?” Mindy stubbled past the line of police officers. An IV port in the back of her hand, and a hospital bracelet hanging from her wrist. She practically crashed into the group. Tara’s hands only leaving Chad’s arm to steady Mindy’s gait.

“Ma’am this is an active crime scene, you can’t be here” the officer was much larger than you, and it was no use fighting against him as he backed you down the street, pushing you farther from Tara.

You took one final glance back at Tara as she clung to her sister’s side, both watching as they loaded Chad into the second ambulance. With a deep breath, you turned your shoulders and headed down the street. I’ll be back for you, Tara Carpenter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I recovered, I got mad. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of monsters. I wanted the monsters to be afraid of me. Kirby’s words echoed through Tara’s head as she entered Sam’s mandatory trauma group therapy. Tara was tired of it. Tired of always being afraid and running. Tired of being small and tired of being stabbed. Tired of being on the shit end of kill or be killed. Ever since the moment Tara drove that knife into Ethan, something changed in her. It came as a gnawing, aching feeling, a deep desire to feel the warm blood pump over her hands again.

The therapy did little to ease the continued obsessive thoughts. Sam’s new therapist freaked her out and she hated the sterile environment of private therapy so Sam suggested group therapy.

Tara felt sick to her stomach as she listened to the others talk about their feelings. She reached for her now lukewarm Starbucks coffee, but it did little to push the bile back down her throat. How could they feel this way when she felt so different?

“Tara, do you have anything you would like to share?” Every pair of eyes in the room shot to Tara when the older lady running the session spoke to her. Curious eyes, just waiting to hear her sob story. All judging her as if they didn’t have their own fucked up shit going on.

“Hi…I’m Tara, and about 3 weeks ago my friends and I were attacked and I…” Tara voiced trailed off. She hated the way they all looked at her now. The pity laced in their eyes. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t deserve it.

“I just keep...I keep having these, um…these thoughts in my head, and I don’t…” Tara’s voice shook as she spoke. What the hell was she even supposed to say? The truth would no doubtably get her locked up.

“Now die a Fucking virgin” it felt good under Tara’s hands as Ethan choked on his own blood. His chest heaved as he tried to get oxygen past the blood rapidly filling his throat and lungs. Fear floated into his eyes as he realized he was dying, and it was so so sweet. Tara twisted the knife a little more. He gargled for air one last time. Tara let him fall at her feet. Fuck Ethan. And fuck his whole family for what they had done to her.

“I don’t know if I can control them...and I’m just...afraid of what’s gonna happen” Don’t say it Tara. Don’t say you’ve been longing to take another life since that moment. Don’t tell them it's the only thing you can think about, day and night. Make something up Tara, think fast. Her eyes rapidly scanned the room looking for an answer. All eyes were still on her, wide and scared, just waiting for her to lose it. Her chest felt heavy, how was she going to get out of this one?

Until her eyes found yours across the room. And for once someone was finally looking at her like she wasn’t crazy. Like they weren’t going to lock her up and force pills down her throat. Like someone who finally understood her. Her heart was racing now. It was all too much.

“I’m sorry, I need a second.” Tara pushed herself up from the chair and darted for the door without a second thought.

The stale air of the meeting hall had been suffocating her, and now with the cool evening air rushing into her lungs, she felt like she could breathe again. She took another deep breath and settled down against the brick wall of the building. It felt nice on her spine after half an hour of sitting in those cheap plastic chairs. Tara checked her phone again, had it really only been 30 minutes?

“Want a hit?” Tara almost didn’t notice you settle down next to her, offering a small vape in her direction. “Or may I offer a stale doughnut and coffee that tastes like it was brewed with sewer water?” You offered up your other hand which contained a white paper coffee cup with a black lid with a chocolate sprinkle doughnut balanced on top.

Tara took your offering of the doughnut, maybe the sugar would stop her hands from shaking so much. She picked a few sprinkles from the icing before tearing off a chunk of the doughnut. She was right, the chocolate did settle her nerves a little.

“What are you doing here, y/n? Therapy I mean” Tara ripped off another piece of the doughnut, and then set the rest down on her thigh.

“That’s a bit of a personal question, don’t you think?” Your eyes followed a fallen leaf as it tumbled through the parking lot. Tara knew it wasn’t that interesting, you were just avoiding making eye contact.

“We almost kissed, I think I’m allowed to ask you personal questions” Tara chuckled out, the autumn breeze cooling the fire blooming on her cheeks.

“And that shows the complex relationship between- y/n, are you even listening to me?” Tara paused her rant about Paradise Lost when she noticed your eyes had been focusing on her and not the book in front of you. You clearly hadn’t been paying attention, you didn’t even notice her lift her head up to look at you. Tara grabbed a paper clip from the nearby stack of papers, and tossed it in your direction. It hit you square in the side of the nose and you jumped. Caught red handed.

“What? Yeah of course I am” your eyes shot down to the book beneath your fingertips, clearly trying to figure out what the hell she had been going on about.

“Focus, our midterm is next week” Tara tapped her pastel blue pen down on the paragraph she had been talking about. “And stop staring, it’s creepy” Tara didn’t really think it was creepy, but she knew if she let you look at her for too much longer then you might notice the pink tint that was finding its way to her cheeks from you being so close.

“I’m not a creep! I just think you have a pretty voice” you pretended to act shocked, but you knew Tara didn’t take any of your shit. Not when it came to classes. Not with your graduation looming in the distance. Tara wasn’t sure what your plans were after college, but she hoped you were planning on staying close. Would you stay working at the same hospital?

“That’s something a creep would say” Tara teased, rolling onto her stomach to copy you. She didn’t want to think about you graduating, and leaving just yet. It made her feel like lightning struck her heart. She didn’t like that feeling. “This is important, can we please focus?” As much as Tara wanted you to stay, she didn’t like the idea of you failing being the only reason for staying.

“I’m already focusing on something important to me” Tara looked up to see you already looking at her. Your hand pushed back a piece of hair that had fallen out of her messy bun. Fuck. Tara felt butterflies erupt in her stomach. Their soft wings tickled the sides, spreading the warmth they left through her body. Tara watched as your eyes shifted down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. Please kiss me. Tara felt the heat between the two of you, something seemingly pulling you closer and closer.

Your copy of Paradise Lost disregarded somewhere on the bed between the two of you, and for once Tara didn’t care. All she could think about was why the hell you couldn’t put on your big kid pants for once in your life and kiss her. Did she really have to do all the work? Just when she thought she was gonna explode, you leaned forward on your elbows. Your breath tickled her nose. Please just kiss me, you idiot.

“Tara” Quinn shoved open the door to Tara’s room without a care. You quickly jumped away from each other, the notebooks in front of you suddenly becoming very interesting. That's it, Tara had decided you really were an idiot. She wasn’t even sure she could save you anymore.

“Did I cockblock you?” it didn’t take a fool to read the situation, and Quinn certainly wasn’t a fool. Definitely not when it came to this.

“What did you just say?” Tara squeezed her eyes shut. This is not happening right now.

“Cockblocked you, I cockblocked you, didn’t I?” Quinn waved her finger between the two of you.

“Immediate no” Tara jumped up from her spot on the bed, shaking her head. Quinn had just ruined this for her, and now she was only making it worse.

“Please stop saying the word cock” your voice was muffled from where you had your face pressed into your notebook. Tara wondered if your cheeks looked as red as hers felt.

“What’d…what’d you need?” Tara’s voice stuttered.

“Sam just texted me asking if I needed anything, so she's on her way home” Quinn waved her phone at them as evidence. Tara hated it. She wasn’t ready to handle Sam just yet. You sent her a sad smile; you knew that meant your night was over. Tara took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. She really hated it.

“Don’t ever enter a room like that again” Tara let out a sigh of frustration and sat back down on the bed.

“I won’t” Quinn nodded her head, feeling just as awkward now.

“Nice to see you, Quinn” you waved her direction and she offered an apologetic smile, turning and leaving the room. “But I'm gonna get out of here before your sister kills me” You smiled down at Tara. Tara could feel her cheeks burn even hotter now as you packed up your books.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Carpenter” you sent a wink in her direction before slipping out the window and down the fire escape. Tara let herself fall back on the bed. Fuck. The butterflies in her stomach felt bigger now, like a bird had taken over and was starting to flap its wings.

“I changed my mind, give me that” Tara snatched the vape from your hand, and began to take a hit. The fire had begun to light up in her chest just from being close to you again. And she definitely wouldn’t have the courage to follow through with her plan if she was sober.

“It’s weed Tara, don’t green out on me” you tried to pull the vape from her lips, but she swatted you away. It burned her throat, and her lungs felt heavy.

“I know what I’m doing, I’m not some amateur” Tara took another long hit from it just to prove her point. When she exhaled she instantly felt the tickle in her throat. She felt her face start to turn red as she resisted the urge to cough. She wouldn’t let you think you were even a little right.

“Not an amateur?” Your eyebrow cocked up, and a smirk played on your lips. After a few more seconds of watching her struggle, you offered her the cheap therapy coffee. And Tara took it gratefully, anything to soothe her throat.

The second the coffee hit her tongue she knew it was a mistake. You had been right about one thing; that coffee HAD been made with sewer water. Tara felt humiliated as she sat coughing and spitting up trash coffee as the people of New York City passed by. Judging her. As if they even had a clue what she had been through.

“Easy sweetheart, they haven’t given me my nursing license yet” your hand felt warm on her back, rubbing soothing circles. And even when the coughing settled and she sat back upright, you didn’t stop. You pulled her closer even. Tara didn’t mind though, she honestly hoped you wouldn’t ever stop.

You were so close together now, the scent of coffee and weed still lingering on both of your breaths. Tara watched as you scanned her face for any sign of discomfort. Your face visibly settled when you found none. Tara wasn’t messed up by any means, but she definitely felt the high easing her nerves. She felt lighter now, like the weight of the world wasn't completely on her shoulders for once. And by the look on your face, she was sure you would take that weight if she had asked you to.

Tara’s fingertips traced the scar above your eyebrow. It ran down the side of your face, and ended abruptly at your cheekbone. How had you gotten it? It didn’t look overly fresh, but was that why you had come to counseling?

You abruptly grabbed her hand. Tara’s eyes flew to yours, and your skin warmed hers. The warmth burned hotter in her chest too. Tara liked having you this close.

“I will not be held responsible for my actions if you don’t stop touching me” Your eyes were serious.

Tara swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She had been holding back from you long enough that even the idea of giving in made her hands shake. Tara held your gaze for a moment, contemplating her next move, then shifted onto her knees and pressed her lips against yours.

“Good girl” you whispered when she finally pulled away. She shivered under you.

“You like that, don’t you? You want everyone to think you're so sweet and innocent. And good.” your breath tickled her ear “but you like the darkness. You need it, crave it. And I'm going to give it to you, Tara Carpenter”.

And you were right. Tara needed it. She craved it. She craved you.

chapter 2: you, tara carpenter, have stolen my heart

#tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #ghostface!tara #tara carpenter #scream

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sundry-whovengerslocked · 8 months

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Snow and Dirty Rain (Merlin)

Richard Silken, "Snow and Dirty Rain" // BBC Merlin

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

it's finally here! the fourth and final part!!!

this one was hard, I had the most trouble with the last three pictures. I really wanted to include Elena and Mithian as well as Geoffrey, but they just... didn't really fit. it was objectively awful. sorry for that. so I reached out to @shana-rosee , and they threw me a few ideas! it was their call to have Geoffrey last - and they might not have realized it, but it turned out great for the symbolism, as I'll point out below. so thank you for that! (/gen) but yeah, today it was just bugging me and I NEEDED to get it done, and I think it turned out pretty good!

so the first image is alluding to part 3, where the line "if this isn't a kingdom, i don't know what is" is assigned to Arthur. for "the hunter's heart" I had the unicorn horn, because it showed that Arthur was pure of heart. for "the hunter's mouth" I had Leon, (yay! Leon!) because he's Arthur's advisor, and speaks for him.

I was DETERMINED to get Leon, Hunith, and Gaius in this one, and I'm so glad I did.

Tristan and Isolde have their line to represent, honestly, what they did in the show - a reflection of Merlin and Arthur, and how their great love (filled with magic, secrets, and war), ends in tragedy.

Hunith and Gaius are there to represent "the space between the trees", as they are Merlin's sanctuary, his parental figures, the ones who know about his magic and love him - not in spite of, but for it. and of course I had to have Gaius casting a spell for the gold line!

for the last three, it got a little complicated, but I figured it out.

for "the words frozen," I did the moment that Arthur and Merlin became officially forever connected - when Uther assigned Merlin as Arthur's servant after he saved his life. the knife in the throne, the speechless moment that followed.

for "the creatures frozen.", I had the most difficult time with. Shana suggested the Lamia, which was a great idea, but I didn't think that it quite fit with the rest. so instead, I did Dragoon at Camlann. that lightning is the moment that even a fraction of Merlin's true power is shown. Dragoon is representative of Merlin being allowed to be his true self, and the consequences that come with it. Merlin can literally freeze creatures using his words - a la spells, or, more fitting, dragonspeak. people also freeze in terror or awe at the very mention of the name Emrys. so yeah, I think it worked out quite well!

and lastly, for "Explaining will get us nowhere." as i said, Shana suggested Geoffrey here, likely because of his love of the library. that reason was actually why I considered putting him under "the words frozen," but I realized putting him last was much better. why?

well, because Geoffrey of Monmouth was a real person. who, you ask, exactly is he? well, just "one of the major figures in the development of British historiography and the popularity of tales of King Arthur." yeah, in case you didn't know, Geoffrey the record keeper in BBC Merlin was an allusion to the man who helped carry Arthur's tale throughout the years.

so, why "explaining will get us nowhere?" well, because, if you accept BBC's Merlin as the true canon, then Geoffrey recorded it wrong! lol.

(in line with this, if you haven't read it already, go read @katherynefromphilly 's We Begin Again series. it's absolutely incredible, well worth the long read, and will leave you wanting more! in a good way, I promise. in it, Merlin in the present day goes out of his way to fix everything history got wrong, and it's incredible. also I distinctly remember there being fish in little pond things indoors, which was a super cute detail.)

so, that's the last of my Snow and Dirty Rain/Merlin series. I went a little overboard explaining things, but it was just so fun finding and linking the symbolism!! I hope you all enjoyed!

(p.s. I'm planning to make more of Snow and Dirty Rain, but with twelveclara/whouffaldi from Doctor Who. if you're interested in that or other things I make, check out my richard siken or original post tags in my blog.)

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gravalicious · 1 year

Photo

Lena Horne sits for portrait painted by Geoffrey Holder (1959).

Source: Shane Vogel - Stolen Time: Black Fad Performance and the Calypso Craze (2018)

#painting #art #portraiture

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garland-on-thy-brow · 2 months

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You have successfully gotten me into origami. I'm not very good at it yet but it *is* really fun! And do you have any recs for learning more about Agrippina the Younger and/or Poppaea?

I hope you have a safe and happy week. Even if I don't always comment, it's always cool to see what you're reading and your commentary on it.

Really happy to hear this! I hope you have a lot of fun with origami. If you want, please come talk to me about it - no pressure though.

About Agrippina and Poppaea, I have not gotten deep but here is what I have been reading to unlock thoughts:

The beautiful Tacitus whom I still need to finish…

Nero's Women (Anthony A. Barrett), in Cambridge Companion to the Age of Nero. It contains the Further Reading section, which I am giving below (but I have not read these works so far):

For a general treatment of women in the classical world, see Fantham et al., eds. 1995; chapter 11 focuses on the Julio-Claudian period. On imperial women and their representation in public imagery, see Wood 1999. On Agrippina, the main studies are Barrett 1996, Eck 1993, Ginsburg 2005, and Späth 2000. Holztrattner 1995 focuses on the fate of Poppaea Sabina. On Livia as the first of the new genre of “imperial wife,” see Barrett 2002 and Bartman 1999.

The Holztrattner 1995 here is "Holztrattner, F. (1995) Neronis potens, Die Gestalt der Poppaea Sabina in den Nerobüchern des Tacitus. Mit einem Anhang zu Claudia Acte (Grazer Beiträge: Supplementband 6). Horn". Unfortunately I do not read German (though of course automated translation is an option).

Princesses and Others in Tacitus (Syme); I wonder if I got into Agrippina/Poppaea because in Tacitus both are to some degree modelled from Sempronia-in-Sallust and I might have a type.

Jean Racine’s Britannicus, Translated into English Rhymed Couplets by Geoffrey Alan Argent - a dramatic work that from my point of view belongs to the same topic because there is Agrippina. Actually I have only just started this one, but definitely going to read it; also there is an opera based on it. [Youtube link to Agrippina's aria that goes hard: Mi paventi il figlio indegno i.e. "Let my unworthy son fear me", sung by Ann Hallenberg.]

And there was some other play focusing on Otho/Poppaea/Nero triangle at Baiae, of which I roughly remember the synopsis but Forgor the Title and Author. If I find it again I will read it.

If I find anything else interesting - I will certainly share it here because I am unable not to.

Thank you for the lovely ask. I hope you have a great week too!

#agrippina the younger #poppaea sabina #in case of difficulties finding some of the works i mentioned - please always feel free to message me!

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healerqueen · 13 days

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I responded to the booklist question! I'm sure I forgot some but whew it still took forever to write.

What about you? What are some of the books youve read the most?

Good question! I finally started keeping a list, so I have something to work from. That way I won't draw a blank.

My top five or six favorite authors and series are: J. R. R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, C. S. Lewis's Narnia books, Rosemary Sutcliff's Dolphin Ring series (beginning with Eagle of the Ninth), Enemy Brothers and The Reb and the Redcoats by Constance Savery the Queen's Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner, and The Mysterious Benedict Society (original trilogy and prequel) by Trenton Lee Stewart.

There are many other books and authors I love. I listed several of my childhood influences in this post featuring my 50 favorite children's books (focusing on ones I grew up with as a young person).

Here's my list of favorite books I've read the most or ones I think are worth rereading: The Ordinary Princess by M. M. Kaye (a delightful original fairytale about a princess who refuses to stay in her tower)

The Reluctant Godfather by Allison Tebo (romantic comedy fairytale retelling, with an emphasis on the comedy) Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH by Robert C. O'Brien (adventure about a mother mouse seeking to save her family) The Gammage Cup by Carol Kendall (middle grade fantasy adventure)

Dragon Slippers and Tuesdays at the Castle by Jessica Day George (original fantasy in the style of fairytales) Princess Academy by Shannon Hale (fantasy adventure and coming-of-age story about a group of girls who attend school for the first time)

The Secret Keepers by Trenton Lee Stewart (urban light fantasy with dystopian elements) The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau (middle-grade, post-apocalyptic dystopian) The Arrival by Shaun Tan (a wordless graphic novel that conveys human experiences through surrealism)

The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright (vintage contemporary about a lively family) Derwood, Inc. by Jeri Massi (modern contemporary mystery about another boisterous family) The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin (quirky vintage mystery with an interesting cast of characters) Historical Fiction: Carry On, Mr. Bowditch by Jean Lee Latham Caddie Woodlawn, Family Grandstand, and other books by Carol Ryrie Brink Rebecca's War by Ann Finlayson Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher Knight's Fee by Rosemary Sutcliff

The Lost Baron by Allen French The Wheel on the School by Meindert DeJong By the Great Horn Spoon by Sid Fleischman A Single Shard and Seesaw Girl by Linda Sue Park The Bronze Bow and The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare The Secret Garden and A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell A few books I discovered more recently that are now all-time favorites: Seventh City by Emily Hayse, The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt, Valiant by Sarah McGuire, Out of the Tomb by Ashley Stangl, the Mistmantle Chronicles by M. I. McAllister, Escape to Vindor by Emily Golus, Chase the Legend by Hannah Kaye, The Key to the Chains by Allison Tebo (sci-fi), Rebel Wave by Tor Thibeaux (undersea dystopian) Historical fiction: Listening for Lions and Angel on the Square by Gloria Whelan, Courage in Her Hands by Iris Noble, Victory at Valmy and Word to Caesar by Geoffrey Trease, historical fiction Westerns and mysteries by author Elisabeth Grace Foley

Mystery/suspense: The Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax by Dorothy Gilman, The Moonspinners by Mary Stewart

#book recs #books #reading #favorite books #book list #literature #new-reading

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holyfurnace · 24 days

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About - Geoffrey

Name: Geoffrey Butler

Title: Mr. Butler

Age: 58

Species: Imp demon

Description: 3'8", red skin, neat white hair and mustache, monocle shaped mark over left eye, straight black horns with thick white stripes

Verses

Verse: Geoffrey - Main

Geoffrey is the current butler for King Paimon's household, a role that was passed to him when he was in his mid twenties. His family has been in the King's service for many generations, Geoffrey himself beginning to work as a busboy when he was just 13 and working his way up to his current position over the years. He is a devoted servant, and though he has some doubts on how his employer deals with certain situations, he keeps those thoughts to himself.

Verse Designs Below

Main

#ooc #about #geoffrey

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tuulikki · 3 months

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Prester John came up in conversation on the way to a local Medieval reenactment village and it put me in mind of a somewhat ancient piece of medieval nerd shit on the internet:

TO: GEOFFREY CHAUCER ([email protected])

FROM: ABALIA OF SUSA ([email protected])

RE: MAIL ORDER BRIDE FROM THE REAUME OF PRESTER JOHN

Good daye! Ich ben ycleped Abalia. XXVII yeeres haue ich dwelt yn thys worlde, far awey yn the lande of Prester John, yn Inde, wher the riveres of paradise do flowe ynto a see of gravel. Althogh thys be a fayre contree ful of precious stones and tables ymade of solid emeralde, wher even the tiniest tchotchke ys ycrafted of diamonde (seriouslie, ich haue an adamantine shoe-horne), yet ther are fewe worthy men that dwelle herein. In deed, a lord hight Gatholonabes doth convince alle the yonge men for to joyne his cult of Assasines and they spende ther tyme lernynge to kille silentlye and hide in shadowes. And thus no gentil man ys lefte for a yonge damosel swich as myn selfe, save for the wilde menne of the deserte who haue hornes of beestes and speke no human tongue, and thatte ys juste totallie nastie and gross. Perhaps yt semeth nyce to yow, but ich devoutely wisshe to fynde the blessinges of love matrimoniale! Ich do looke for a man riche nat wyth worldlie goodes, but riche yn corage and vertu, and thus ich haue emailed yow. If liketh yow my message, and ye haue nat hornes and be nat an assasin, may it plese yow to sende an replye to me at [email protected].

Source: Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog

#prester john #medieval #medieval europe #history #historyblr

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afrotumble · 5 months

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When Sir Vivian Richards took over the captaincy from Sir Clive Lloyd, there was a notion that the power-hitting style as the smoking Joe Frasier may fade due to the responsibility factor. Sir Geoffrey Boycott endorsed this thought when the Test series between West Indies and England commenced.

Richards did have his hours in the series, but somewhere, that master blaster was missing and Boycott's statement was proving right until the King came out to bat at Antigua. There was carnage as the King smashed 50 off 35 deliveries and the next 60 runs came off from just 23;

Viv was severe on his Somerset teammate Ian Botham who ended up leaking 78 from 15 overs. While the lanky English spinner John Emburey leaked 83 from 14. Before that he leaked 14 runs from 9 overs!

Richards had only two options on that afternoon - a boundary or a six. "In a sense, I did everything to get out, but luckily for me, everything went off the middle of the bat. The crowd was jumping & the car horns were blowing all round the island,"said the King.

Richards managed a strike rate of 189.65 from 58 deliveries and the West Indies completed another whitewash.

Courtesy of Fenomena (Facebook)

#cricket #west indies #test cricket

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kwebtv · 1 year

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"It's a Bird... It's a Plane... It's Superman" - ABC - February 21, 1975

Musical / Special Adaptation of the Broadway Play

Running Time: 120 minutes

Stars:

Kenneth Mars as Max Mencken

Loretta Swit as Sydney Carlton

Lesley Ann Warren as Lois Lane

David Wayne as Dr. Abner Sedgwick

David Wilson as Clark Kent/Superman

Phil Leeds as MIT Technician

Harvey Lembeck as Gangster

Allen Ludden as Perry White

Al Molinaro as Gangster

Malachi Throne as King Big Boss V

Lou Willis Jr as Gangster

Danny Goldman as Copy Boy

Geoffrey Horne as Ray Clive

George Chandler as Jonathan Kent

Irene Tedrow as Martha Kent

Stuart Getz as Jerry Siegel

Michael Lembeck as Joe Shuster

Gary Owens as Narrator

Also featured in the production were

Ronnie Claire Edwards as Cheerleader

Joanna Kerns as Citizen

Udana Power as Cheerleader

Nita Talbot as Gabby Lady

#It's a Bird... It's a Plane... It's Superman #TV #Special #ABC #1975 #Musical #Kenneth Mars #Loretta Swit #Lesley Ann Warren #David Wayne #David Wilson

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continuations · 1 year

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Thinking About AI

I am writing this post to organize and share my thoughts about the extraordinary progress in artificial intelligence over the last years and especially the last few months (link to a lot of my prior writing). First, I want to come right out and say that anyone still dismissing what we are now seeing as a "parlor trick" or a "statistical parrot" is engaging in the most epic goal post moving ever. We are not talking a few extra yards here, the goal posts are not in the stadium anymore, they are in a far away city.

Growing up I was extremely fortunate that my parents supported my interest in computers by buying an Apple II for me and that a local computer science student took me under his wing. Through him I found two early AI books: one in German by Stoyan and Goerz (I don't recall the title) and Winston and Horn's "Artifical Intelligence." I still have both of these although locating them among the thousand or more books in our home will require a lot of time or hopefully soon a highly intelligent robot (ideally running the VIAM operating system -- shameless plug for a USV portfolio company). I am bringing this up here as a way of saying that I have spent a lot of time not just thinking about AI but also coding on early versions and have been following closely ever since.

I also pretty early on developed a conviction that computers would be better than humans at a great many things. For example, I told my Dad right after I first learned about programming around age 13 that I didn't really want to spend a lot of time learning how to play chess because computers would certainly beat us at this hands down. This was long before a chess program was actually good enough to beat the best human players. As an aside, I have changed my mind on this as follows: Chess is an incredible board game and if you want to learn it to play other humans (or machines) by all means do so as it can be a lot of fun (although I still suck at it). Much of my writing both here on Continuations and in my book is also based on the insight that much of what humans do is a type of computation and hence computers will eventually do it better than humans. Despite that there will still be many situations where we want a human instead exactly because they are a human. Sort of the way we still go to concerts instead of just listening to recorded music.

As I studied computer science both as an undergraduate and graduate student, one of the things that fascinated me was the history of trying to use brain like structures to compute. I don't want to rehash all of it here, but to understand where we are today, it is useful to understand where we have come from. The idea of modeling neurons in a computer as a way to build intelligence is quite old. Early electromechanical and electrical computers started getting built in the 1940s (e.g. ENIAC was completed in 1946) and the early papers on modeling neurons can be found from the same time in work by McCulloch and Pitts.

But almost as soon as people started working on neural networks more seriously, the naysayers emerged also. Famously Marvin Minsky and Seymour Paper wrote a book titled "Perceptrons" that showed that certain types of relatively simple neural networks had severe limitations, e.g. in expressing the XOR function. This was taken by many at the time as evidence that neural networks would never amount to much, when it came to building computer intelligence, helping to usher in the first artificial intelligence winter.

And so it went for several cycles. People would build bigger networks and make progress and others would point out the limitations of these networks. At one time people were so disenchanted that very few researchers were left in the field altogether. The most notable of these was Geoffrey Hinton who kept plugging away at finding new training algorithms and building bigger networks.

But then a funny thing happened. Computation kept getting cheaper and faster and memory became unfathomably large (my Apple II for reference had 48KB of storage on the motherboard and an extra 16KB in an extension card). That made it possible to build and train much larger networks. And all of a sudden some tasks that had seemed out of reach, such as deciphering handwriting or recognizing faces started to work pretty well. Of course immediately the goal post moving set in with people arguing that those are not examples of intelligence. I am not trying to repeat any of the arguments here because they were basically silly. We had taken a task that previously only humans could do and built machines that could do them. To me that's, well, artificial intelligence.

The next thing that we discovered is that while humans have big brains with lots of neurons in them, we can use only a tiny subset of our brain on highly specific tasks, such as playing the game of Go. With another turn of size and some further algorithmic breakthroughs all of a sudden we were able to build networks large enough to beat the best human player at Go. And not just beat the player but do so by making moves that were entirely novel. Or as we would have said if a human had made those moves "creative." Let me stay with this point of brain and network size for moment as it will turn out to be crucial shortly. A human Go player not only can only use a small part of their brain to play the game but the rest of their brain is actually a hindrance. It comes up with pesky thoughts at just the wrong time "Did I leave the stove on at home?" or "What is wrong with me that I didn't see this move coming, I am really bad at this" and all sorts of other interference that a neural network just trained to play Go does not have to contend with. The same is true for many other tasks such as reading radiology images to detect signs of cancer.

The other thing that should have probably occurred to us by then is that there is a lot of structure in the world. This is of course a good thing. Without structure, such as DNA, life wouldn't exist and you wouldn't be reading this text right now. Structure is an emergent property of systems and that's true for all systems, so structure is everywhere we look including in language. A string of random letters means nothing. The strings that mean something are a tiny subset of all the possible letter strings and so unsurprisingly that tiny subset contains a lot of structure. As we make neural networks bigger and train them better they uncover that structure. And of course that's exactly what that big brain of ours does too.

So I was not all that surprised when large language models were able to produce text that sounded highly credible (even when it was hallucinated). Conversely I found the criticism from some people that making language models larger would simply be a waste of time confounding. After all, it seems pretty obvious that more intelligent species have, larger brains than less intelligent ones (this is obviously not perfectly correlated). I am using the word intelligence here loosely in a way that I think is accessible but also hides the fact that we don't actually have a good definition of what intelligence is, which is what has made the goal post moving possible.

Now we find ourselves confronted with the clear reality that our big brains are using only a fraction of their neurons for most language interactions. The word "most" is doing a lot of work here but bear with me. The biggest language models today are still a lot smaller than our brain but damn are they good at language. So the latest refuge of the goal post movers is the "but they don't understand what the language means." But is that really true?

As is often the case with complex material, Sabine Hossenfelder, has a great video that helps us think about what it means to "understand" something. Disclosure: I have been supporting Sabine for some time via Patreon. Further disclosure: Brilliant, which is a major advertiser on Sabine's channel, is a USV portfolio company. With this out of the way I encourage you to watch the following video.

youtube

So where do I think we are? At a place where for fields where language and/or two dimensional images let you build a good model, AI is rapidly performing at a level that exceeds that of many humans. That's because the structure it uncovers from the language is the model. We can see this simply by looking at tests in those domains. I really liked Bryan Caplan's post where he was first skeptical based on an earlier version performing poorly on his exams but the latest version did better than many of his students. But when building the model requires input that goes beyond language and two dimensional images, such as understanding three dimensional shapes from three dimensional images (instead of inferring them from two dimensional ones) then the currently inferred models are still weak or incomplete. It seems pretty clear though that progress in filling in those will happen at a breathtaking pace from here.

Since this is getting rather long, I will separate out my thoughts on where we are going next into more posts. As a preview, I believe we are now at the threshold to artificial general intelligence, or what I call "neohumans" in my book The World After Capital. And even if that takes a bit longer, artificial domain specific intelligence will be outperforming humans in a great many fields, especially ones that do not require manipulating the world with that other magic piece of equipment we have: hands with opposable thumbs. No matter what the stakes are now extremely high and we have to get our act together quickly on the implications of artificial intelligence.

#artificial intelligence #ai

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