#hopefully this was not an emotionally scarring experience for her and she has no memory of me now decades later

[sufficientlylargen]

The US government has known about the existence of extraterrestrials for decades, the problem is that when we made first contact the aliens said "We come in peace" and the human responding said "Thanks, you too" without thinking and so the US built a giant signal jamming facility at area 51 and every other time they've tried to contact us we just pretend not to notice.

[rhmg-au]

I couldn’t resist, okay? The idea came into my head one day and it was like “write me please”, so I did.

The prequel’s next part will be coming soon, so please stay patient with me, I’m no good at being on time-

This is not connected to the ficlets I already made, so you could see this as an alternate timeline if you like.

This AU belongs to @rhmg-au . Please follow them, reblog their art, give them fanart, support them in any way possible, etc.

Charlie and Copper created by FlamingRedAnon.

TW: Blood, gore, death

(Mod Swanno: Read more because of length and content! ^^)

———

Four to one.

It didn’t seem fair, not in terms of battle, but why this fight is happening in the first place.

Four unlucky and unfortunate souls twisted into weapons, machines, their only purpose to destroy the Toppats.

It all began when Right Hand Man was taken away from the clan, just before the launch of the spaceship. His sacrifice made it possible for the rest of the members to escape from a fate they didn’t deserved, at the cost of his freedom and free will. Now, he’s referred to as Green.

A while after the space station was set up completely, Reginald Copperbottom disappeared without reason or warning. Several search parties were sent down to Earth and even around the station, but no signs of him were spotted. No notes or messages were found left by him, only bumping the concern and fear up by a longshot. Toppats were getting killed off at a much faster rate, causing Henry to bring the remaining clan members into the orbital station to prevent more casualties, only allowing them to leave if they have a viable reason to or it’s deemed safe to go back, which it isn’t. After this decision was made, no further deaths were reported. Reginald was only seen again when they raided the Government to get their fellow Toppats back, but he wasn’t the same. He was changed into a cyborg too, against his will, and just like with Right, had his memories wiped clean. New name? Copper.

Charles Calvin was a pilot who worked for their enemy, while he may came from the opposing side, one can clearly see how uncomfortable he was with the General’s choices, and wants to help. Unfortunately, his motives were discovered and he too suffered the same fate as Reginald did. Charlie is what he’s called by now.

Similar to his co-worker, Rupert Price is a high-ranking soldier in the Government, and like the pilot, is uncomfortable with the decisions of the person he takes commands from. But he has another reason why, he’s been trying to convince them to save a friend of his, however they kept denying as he’s just an average citizen who’s not worth saving and it provided no benefit for them if they do. These were more than enough to push him to his breaking point. His life took a turn for the worst when he was caught by the monster behind all of this, and was changed into something he never wanted to become. Before this though, he was tortured mercilessly for defying the expectations of a soldier. Prize replaced his original name.

All of them were standing before her, the only one who could possibly match against them, Sabine Setorion.

She couldn’t believe it.

But another thing that made it even more unbearable was that it was all thanks to her adoptive mother, the one who saved her from dying all those years ago, who treated her like a daughter…Dr. Vinschpinsilstein.

Even after all of the things they did, what she told her about them, she still decided to throw her words and the horrid acts to the wind for revenge.

But this isn’t simple revenge. This was too cruel to call it revenge.

Sure, they held her at gunpoint, made her turn Right into a cyborg, but they had no other choice. How else could they convince her to work on saving his life? Besides, wasn’t saving lives her job? Like how she did for her? No matter how it was demanded?

But…she couldn’t bring herself to hate her.

She’s blinded by her anger, the need for revenge, and has done inexplicably dastardly deeds, but hatred was out of the question.

Even with those conditions active, her care still shone through.

For now though, the only thing she should focus on at the moment was the fight she’s thrusted into.

And it was incredibly one-sided.

No one else could stand against these four walking machines, she’s the only one who could at least manage a short confrontation between herself and them.

But that’s not the only reason why she’s fighting a near hopeless battle.

All of those she ever brought herself to care about would be destroyed if she refused, including her mother.

Galeforce was cruel, there was no doubt about that, but this was insane. Not only was he putting countless Toppats and their lives on the line, and those she calls friends, but even that of his assistant. Just to satisfy his need for vengeance.

Blood spewed from her mouth, her burn had been covered up with the crimson substance that has found its way to the unhealed injury she still possesses to this fateful day. The scar which was sealed off years prior has been reopened in a painful way, the sting lingered with her for the rest of the fight. The stitches had undone, and a new one has been made to criss-cross the wound, effectively creating an X shape on her face.

Pain coursed through the entirety of her being, it was as if she was waking up from a coma but it was a worse version of it, like someone beat you senselessly while you were still unconscious, and you had the misfortune to wake up to experience the assault of agony it brought alongside your awakening.

The metal used to reconstruct her new body has been damaged severely, with five to one, she was barely even breathing. She never harmed anyone, because she knows that all of them are still human, still people who are worth saving, even if some of them are not from her side of the playing field. They were disabled (by her will) for the majority of the battle, only relying on evasion and defense as strategy.

It hurt, physically, mentally and emotionally. Knowing that under these circumstances, there was no real way to win. And to know that those she cared deeply for are forced to watch her eventual demise, and to know that those who have to end her can’t stop themselves.

All she could do was lay there, almost lifelessly, as she heard a command from the General:

“Finish her.”

As they prepared to end her second trial of life, she weakly spoke. “It-It wasn’t your…faults. I-If you c-can hear me, r-remember t-that.” You could hear it if you leaned in close enough, but they were quieter than total silence. They did nothing to help. They couldn’t hear her.

Yet she still tried.

A single, solitary tear escaped from her eye mixing in with her blood, a smile plastered on her face.

This was the end.

Four individual blasts came soon after.

The last thing she heard were screams and scrambling.

And she was gone…permanently.

———

I gotta admit, this was kinda rushed-

But hopefully you enjoyed the end result regardless of shortness and how rushed it seemed.

My poor baby didn’t stand a chance against four cyborgs, there was no realistic way for her to win unless she managed to snap them out of it.

Also I would like to say the reason why she was killed instead of being brainwashed like the rest: Dr. V was now against Galeforce, and unless he figures out how to do cybernetic surgery by himself, or finds another doctor, he can’t have another walking weapon at his disposal, leaving him no choice but to kill off Sabine.

I legit couldn’t think of a name that fitted Rupert’s rehabilitated version of himself, so Prize had to do (and no I did not use his last name as reference for it-)

Maybe I’ll do an alternative route for that possibility, who knows? ;)

Don’t worry, I’m still working on the prequel, procrastination and demotivation are being assholes to me at the moment, but hopefully I can combat them to bring another another work to this AU!

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

We’ve got the blues

Tonight is all about the blues - the musical kind! Big Top and Agent S are performing all weekend after days of rehearsing. They've been inspired to form a blues duo after watching a documentary on music history. I'm really digging their sound and now I want to look into more bluesy artists!

Joining us at the camp on an impromptu vacation are Storm, Buddy, and Sam. It's nice to see Storm and Buddy again and an even bigger surprise to see Sam, who I haven't seen in what feels like forever. In fact, I didn't even know they were around the area - Peace Coast Island, to be specific.

So, what would these three be doing in a place like Peace Coast Island? Storm's the only one who really has a reason to fly up to the island from Airy since he's a recording artist at a studio over there. Ever since he started performing at Golden City, Storm has been getting back into writing songs and recording music.

And he's not the only one who's been hanging around the recording studio. In fact, Storm's working on two projects at once - a new single and an album with the Airy Community Choir. That's why the three came up to Peace Coast, to record some music and make plans for the choir album.

The upside of being friends with musicians, particularly recording artists, is that you get teasers or early access to new material! After we got lost in the Floating Petal Garden, Storm was struck by inspiration and with Sam and Buddy's help, it became a song that hopefully marks the start of a promising future. Us campers were spoiled by hearing the recording and a live performance. If this song doesn't get Storm some well deserved recognition, then I don't know what will.

In Hopes and Dreams is a song written by Storm, Sam, and Buddy. The song's about grief and how the ones you love can hurt you a lot by leaving. The unexpected death of his cousin/Buddy's brother led Storm to thinking about how losing loved ones through death leave the kind of scars that stay with you for life. Then Sam came along, contributing to the lyrics based on his own experiences with grief, particularly with Ellie's death - something he rarely opens up about.

In a way, working on that song was kinda therapeutic for the guys. Buddy's doing a lot better since I last saw him, which is good. Sam's lyrics were inspired by a conversation with a grieving Buddy, where he mentioned Ellie, leading to a moment of vulnerability for the two. He was the one who pulled Buddy out of a deep depression as if it wasn't for him, Buddy wouldn't have gone to the Floating Petal Garden with us.

The lyrics themselves are a strong point of the song, and knowing the story behind them makes it hit even harder. It's an emotionally driven song, one that gets you thinking about the impact you leave on people. The song also makes you think about your mortality, how your absence will hurt the ones you love the most. How sometimes you can love someone with all your heart and be kinda mad at them for leaving you. It's a feeling we all know too well - Buddy with his brother, and Sam with his wife are just a few examples that stick out.

After hearing In Hopes and Dreams for the first time, I knew that I'd be listening to it on repeat for a while. Not only it got me thinking about my own feelings with loss, it also got me wondering about Sam and Ellie.

I've met Ellie a handful of times and she was a lovely person, one who I wish I could've gotten to know better. Sam and Ellie were happily married, a sweet love story that was sadly cut too short. Not too long after Ellie May, also known as Little Ellie May-Berry, came along, Ellie was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer. She passed away a little less than a year later, leaving behind a young grieving husband and a daughter who would sadly never get to know her mother.

In the years that passed, Sam rarely spoke about Ellie. Though it's becoming harder for him now that little Ellie May's asking questions about her mom. Along with Buddy dealing with his own loss, Sam was kinda forced to finally deal with his unresolved grief. Working with Storm on In Hopes and Dreams gave him an outlet for those emotions he had buried for the past six years, finally putting that part of his life to rest. It's a slow process, but he says it's getting a little easier to talk to Ellie May when she brings up her mom.

In Hopes and Dreams came together in a matter of a couple of days. The demo was recorded at Sam's house with Storm on lead while Sam provided a guitar accompaniment and backing vocals along with Buddy. Since this is the first song Storm has written in almost a year, he wanted to strike while the iron was hot and arranged a recording session with Lawrence as soon as the demo was done.

With the demo going super well, Storm became inspired to record some songs with the choir. At first he wasn't so sure if everyone would be on board to do an album but they were quite enthusiastic about it. Nothing's really set in stone on that yet but Sam and Buddy have already recorded some demos and Storm's working out arrangements for recording sessions.

So Storm, Sam, and Buddy flew to Peace Coast Island earlier this week to record In Hopes and Dreams. With JB Lesedi as producer, the recording sessions went smoothly and quickly. I know some lucky friends who have worked with JB, who's not easy to get. Storm got lucky as JB's schedule happened to clear up, making him available on short notice. Knowing him, he saw potential and immediately got to work on the song. Like in the demo, Storm sang his heart out while Sam and Buddy provided backing vocals.

Along with recording In Hopes and Dreams, the guys also did some work on the choir project, which JB offered to help out with. Sam sang Precious Memories and Buddy sang Just a Closer Walk With Thee, both which sounded great. I knew Sam can sing, but hearing him front and center shows how great he really is. Buddy's also got a good voice, though I shouldn't be too surprised since he often joins Sam when he pulls his guitar out. The Airy choir's quite good so I'm looking forward to hearing the rest of the album when it's finished.

After finishing up in the studio, Storm took Sam and Buddy around the island. They also visited Spectrum Falls and Golden Sunset Hills, two other places where Storm often visited when he lived around the area. Then, instead of heading back to Airy, the guys decided to drop by the camp since it's not too far. They've been enjoying the islands, the city, and the campsite. It's always nice to have old friends dropping by for a visit.

As for the blues, Storm and Sam have been getting into the beat. Big Top was looking for vocalists so it's a good thing the guys came along. It's fun seeing the four of them make music together!

As expected, the guys enjoyed fishing at the creek and the ocean. I brought up the idea of them coming back to the camp during a tourney event and they were all for it. Sam hopes to bring his parents, sister, and Ellie May along. It's been ages since I last spoke to Franny and little Ellie May's growing up so fast - I'm so looking forward to seeing them again! And of course, Storm and Buddy will be there too - in fact, they're pretty much honorary members of the Beryl family at this point.

The cousins have been enjoying hanging around OK Motors fixing up RVs. Buddy's got a knack for fixing up anything that has an engine. He even managed to disassemble and reassemble a car inside the courthouse once - an impressive feat, though a bit of a mess for the town council to deal with. It's so good to hear him talk about the shenanigans he and the guys get up to in town - the whole car in the courthouse incident being a sign that Buddy's slowly getting back to his old self.

Sam has been busy with the town council and raising Ellie May. As of two years ago, he became the head of the Airy town council so he spends most of his time running things there. Franny took over from Frawley as pharmacist at the drug store a couple months ago after graduating last year. His dad's still with the newspaper and his mom's with the clinic. Little Ellie May's a bit of a handful, curious and excitable as ever. Of course, most of the pics on Sam's phone are of Ellie May being her adorable self. I'm excited to see her again, though she won't remember me.

It's been fun seeing the guys hanging out, bantering and joking around like they would do in Airy. Sam even brought his guitar for an impromptu singalong. I should drop by there for a visit someday, it really is a nice little town. Storm's been living there for less than a year and he already feels like family, fitting in seamlessly with the townfolk. Things have changed quite a bit, but it's still the same old Airy.

Since finishing up with In Hopes and Dreams, Storm and Sam have been working on some new music. Storm's not sure exactly what direction he wants to go if he were to record a new album so he's playing it by ear. Not only Sam is a talented guitarist and singer, he's also got a knack for writing lyrics.

Sitting out here under the stars with the guys while listening to Agent S and Big Top playing the blues - it's a fitting way to unwind after a busy day of fishing and hiking.

[thepermanentrainpress]

THE PERMANENT RAIN PRESS INTERVIEW WITH MADELEINE SIMS-FEWER AND DUSTY MANCINELLI

Violation is one of the most stirring films we’ve seen over the past year. Since making its world premiere at Toronto International Film Festival last year, the Canadian flick has been busy on the film festival circuit; now available through digital-cinema on TIFF Bell Lightbox, with Vancouver International Film Festival (VIFF) Connect to follow beginning March 26th. 

What inspired the story behind Violation?

We were both dealing with our own personal experiences of trauma at the time, and wanted to make an anti-revenge film that deals with female rage, and emotional and psychological unravelling that trauma gives rise to.

We really wanted to make a revenge film that pushed the boundaries of the genre, challenging the tropes of the scantily clad woman becoming empowered by violent revenge against a menacing stranger, and that revenge is the cathartic climax we are all seeking at the end of the movie. Yes, it is a film about seeking retribution, but also about the cost of that retribution. It is a film about violation, but also about lack of empathy and selfishness, and how both can erode your morality and the relationships around you.

It’s been described as “twisted,” “feminist-minded,” and a “hypnotic horror.” At its core, how would you describe the film’s genre(s)?

Those three descriptors fit perfectly, actually! We weren’t thinking too much about genre when we wrote the script, mostly about the story and about how we portrayed Miriam’s journey. We were inspired by films that don’t sit comfortably in a genre box, like Caché, Fat Girl, Don’t Look Now. Films that are dramas with elements of horror.

When you were writing the script, can you elaborate on the dynamics between the two couples that you wanted to portray – Miriam and Caleb, and Greta and Dylan?

Miriam and Caleb are very much at an impasse in their relationship. The spark has gone out and they don’t know how to reignite it. Instead of doing the work it might take to get through a rough patch Miriam is very much running away. There is a real transience to modern relationships that we wanted to capture in their dynamic - this idea that when the romance is gone the relationship has run its course. Miriam wants to fix it, but doesn’t know how - she clumsily tries to fix it with sex (on her sister’s advice), and this echoes how she tries to fix her trauma too.

Greta and Dylan have a seemingly healthy relationship. But when you look a little deeper their outward affection and codependence masks a deep distrust. Dylan is having his ‘grass is greener’ moment, and he’s totally selfish to the impact this has on those around him. Greta can sense this, but she’s too enamoured by him to risk rocking the boat. It’s all a recipe for tragedy really.

Miriam and Greta have a complex relationship, to say the least. It’s natural to have distance between siblings as they grow older, did you always intend to have a sibling relationship be a centre of your story?

Yes, we always wanted to make a film about a person who suffers sexual assault and is not believed by their sibling. That was one of the first parts of the story that came together. There is so much to unpack in a sibling relationship like theirs. A rich history of mutual failures and resentments as well as so much camaraderie and love. The more painful betrayal in the story comes from Greta, not Dylan.

We wanted to explore the idea of trauma within families, and how abuse and violence affects everyone in the family, not just the person who suffers it. Everything else orbits around these two sisters — Miriam and Greta — as Violation mines the little resentments, commonalities, shared joys and sorrows that weave together a truthful portrait of these women.

A lot of the horror and dread in Violation comes from the way the sisters interact, and in the ways they react to each other from a place of fear. There is no filter in these close sibling relationships (we know this as we both come from big families!) which can be wonderful, but can also lead you to hurt and be hurt in ways that leave permanent emotional scars.

The non-linear editing engages viewers into the story, as do the jarring intercuts with imagery of nature, animals and insects. Tell us about the editing and post-production phase, and what you hoped to accomplish with the progression and symbolism.

The way we have edited Violation is very deliberate. We are forcing you to experience things you might not want to in a very specific way, guiding you through this post traumatic landscape where the past and present are constantly speaking to each other.

We chose to weave two timelines together — the 48 hours leading up to the betrayal and the 48 hours surrounding the act of revenge. This forces the audience to re-contextualize what they have seen, challenging their own opinions of the characters based on what information we choose to reveal and when.

Violation is told completely from Miriam’s perspective — we watch her emotional and psychological unravelling as she struggles desperately to do the right thing. There is a sequence in the middle of the film where we see this act of revenge. There is no dialogue for a long time, we just follow Miriam as she goes through these meticulous actions. And what we realize is that her plan, though well thought-out, is unbelievably emotionally and physically taxing. She’s not prepared, and we watch the real horror of her actions play out through her visceral emotional responses. It was important for us to really force the audience to experience things as Miriam does. The editing is focused and relentless; never letting you stray from her experiences and emotions.

Madeleine, for you, getting to play Miriam and connect with her pain and turbulent emotions through the course of the film, can you share your thoughts on that experience. How did committing to this character challenge you as an actor?

It was the most challenging role I have ever played, and in many ways was absolutely terrifying. I wanted to push myself as far as I could go as an actor and challenge myself to really find the truth of who this woman is, and reveal that to the audience. There are so many quiet moments where Miriam’s journey is so internal, so the challenge there was in truly living each moment as if I was her — getting lost in the role — so that I was not indicating what she was feeling, but living it.

What was it like having Anna, Jesse and Obi as screen partners?

Very liberating. They are all extremely dedicated, layered, engaging performers. They elevated me and challenged me every step of the way. Jesse and I have worked together before, and we have an ease that makes scenes with him very fun. The comfort level we share allows us to really experiment. It was my first time working with Anna and Obi, but it won’t be the last. They are both so open and sensitive that I felt our work was incredibly nuanced.

An overarching question is whether revenge is ever justified. Tell me about Miriam’s mindset, and the struggle between morals, motives and her actions. For you as individuals, is this something that you have had conflict with in your own lives?

In a way we wanted to make a sort of revenge fairy-tale. Fairy tales provide ways for children to think through moral problems, and to wrestle with life’s complexities. They aren’t depictions of reality, but reflect ideas about morality and humanity. We wanted the audience to think about consent, the rippling effects of trauma, how we judge women vs how we judge men, and perhaps consider those things more deeply.

In the end Miriam’s desire to punish those who have wronged her hopefully leaves the audience with a compelling ambiguity to be unpacked as they scrutinize her actions.

Tell us about the trust built between the cast and crew on-set, especially during the more intimate and grim scenes and tense conversations. How do you build that comfort level?

It’s really just about having open, honest conversations. We spent a lot of time with the actors during prep and rehearsals just talking, and building friendships. We are dedicated to creating a comfort level where actors can be completely transparent and open with us, so that when we ask them to go somewhere they know we are there guiding the process and aren’t afraid to take big risks.

To survivors of trauma, what do you hope this movie provides in its story?

We hope to provide a new take on the revenge genre - one that explores rape from a different angle and context - with the focus of the narrative much more on the psychological ramifications of trauma. We aren’t looking to tell anyone what to take away from the film, and we made Violation as much for people with no experience with trauma as for people who understand these murky waters. Really we hope the film sparks thought, discussion, and empathy.

You met at the 2015 TIFF Talent Lab; what drew you together as a filmmaking team? What advice do you have for artists/filmmakers looking for their own collaborators?

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what drew us together - it’s sort of an intangible thing. We developed a very candid friendship that we thought might translate well to a working relationship. Luckily it did!

Shortly after the Talent Lab we decided to work together on two short films, Slap Happy and Woman in Stall. Until directing these shorts neither of us had really had ‘fun ’making a film. Filmmaking was a drive, but it wasn’t a joy. These shorts gave us a totally new perspective, where we actually had a good time workshopping the script, creating a visual style, and just challenging each other. By the time we were making our third short, Chubby, we had decided to officially form a creative partnership.

We definitely approach filmmaking from different perspectives and with complementary strengths, but we don’t say ‘this is your thing and this is mine.’ We work collaboratively on every part of the process, and we built this unique way of working through our shorts, so that when we got the funding to make Violation (through Telefilm’s Talent to Watch program) we already had a solid method that works for us.

In terms of advice it really helps to know how you like to work before looking for a collaborator. Then it’s just about experimenting. It is very much trial and error. Don’t try to force a collaboration that isn’t working for you. There is no shame in a creative relationship not working out. But also it is important to be flexible and open to compromise - that’s how ideas flourish and grow. If you are too rigid then maybe collaboration is not right for you.

Going from short films to your debut feature with Violation, what new challenges did you face and how did you overcome them?

The endurance required to make a feature was something we weren’t prepared for. At about day 3 we turned to each other, totally exhausted, and were like: “there’s 30 more days of this.” It was brutally draining. Honestly every day brought its own unique challenges and problems to overcome, but we had such a strong, supportive team that it made each mountain a little easier to climb.

Aside from yourselves, who are some other up and coming Canadian filmmakers viewers should keep their eyes on?

Grace Glowicki and Ben Petrie are both doing really interesting work. Grace’s film Tito is a disturbingly good character study that builds a terrifying sense of dread. Ben’s short Her Friend Adam is one of our favourites, and he’s about to make his first feature.

Is there anything further you’d like to add or share, perhaps what you are currently working on?

Right now we are writing a slow burning mystery thriller and a twisted dark comedy. That’s about all we can reveal at the moment!

Thank you to Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli for providing us with further insight into Violation! Visit their official website for more information on their projects. 

[shipersanonymous]

Tears She Shed

A West-Allen au 💜

Dark. Heartbreaking. Tear inducing. A story that shows us a Barry we're not used to seeing.

The day Iris said  "I do" she made a promise to love and cherish him forever, a promise that now weighs heavily on her beat down shoulders. She knew he wasn't the same, she'd senced it before she stepped foot down the aisle but she loved him and love conquers all.

Or does it?

What will she be willing to give to keep the love of her life? Is she strong enough to let go and find her happiness? What choice will she make when trapped between her heart and her freedom? How many more tears will she shed?

WARNING : MAY CONTAIN CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18

............................................................

Author’s Note: 

A little darker. A little angstier. A little more gruesome. A little more painful.

This fic is inspired by the WA fic "Her Worst Nightmare" by dysfunctional_scribe . It is on AO3 so if you haven't checked it out yet I highly recommend it, though please be warned it's not for the faint of heart.

I'll be straight up honest with you. I usually like to write dark (don't ask me why) but this is a little hard for me. Having to depict Barry in such a negative light is a nightmare and having to tap into Iris's emotions to be able to describe them in a way that (hopefully) makes you feel it too is downright heartbreaking. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. As emotionally scarring as the experience might be its an opportunity for growth and I beg of you, please, give me your honest opinion.

Hope you enjoy it! (To the extent possible)

XOXO

Chapter 1

His rhythmic drumming on the steering wheel pounds through her brain, the fear heightening all her senses. She knew that leaving without him was a mistake but she couldn't keep her boss waiting any longer. Now she has to deal with the consequences. It takes all she has not to flinch as his thumbs hit the wheel at an aggressive pace almost like a foreshadowing of what awaits her at home.

"Home". The word feels foreign. She hasn't felt at home in a long time. Not at the loft, not in their bed, not in his arms. Especially not in his arms. Those arms that at first enveloped her and swept her off her feet into a dream. That saved her time and time again and kept the monsters at bay. Now he is the monster and out of all the nightmares she's faced and could have possibly pictured herself facing, this has never been one of them. It's by far the worst. They pull into the parking lot and she feels her heart sink to her stomach. The drive wasn't long enough, she's still not ready. He takes a deep breath beside her and her eyes begin to well up before he lays a single finger on her. She wants to apologize, to explain that she couldn't wait for him any longer, that to keep Scott waiting for another hour would have been unprofessional but she knows better. She knows that saying anything before he speaks will only make matters worse. So she sits silent and unmoving. Her throat grows scratchy from the effort of holding back tears. Maybe if she behaves this time, if she pretends like she isn't even there he will let her be. As if hearing her thoughts, he opens the door and gets out, slamming it in his wake.

She allows herself a moment to breathe but does not, for a single second, fall prey to the illusion that she has been spared. His footsteps grow faint and she waits for a second longer before going after him. As soon as she shuts the door the car alarm activates. He's watching her. She swallows the lump in her throat and hurries towards the elevator. She finds the doors closing and he makes no effort to hold them open. He's drawing out her torture, letting the fear sink in so she'll be too overwhelmed to fight back. It's working.

By the time she reaches the loft her heart is beating so furiously that she's afraid it might stop altogether. Her hand trembles as she opens the door and takes a shaky step inside. She finds him seated on the couch, his back facing her and a glass of whiskey resting in his hand. He knows that he can't get drunk but he tries anyway.

"Babe?" His voice is calm and she shivers. He didn't say her name. He never says her name before he... It's his way of hurting what his hands can't touch. He's striping her of her name, of her identity, dehumanizing her with cuddly pet names that contrast shockingly with his actions.

"Ye-yes honey?" She calls back trying to keep the shake out of her voice and not bothering to take a step closer.

"Do you still love me?" He asks but his voice lacks any longing or emotion.

"Of course I do baby. I'll always love you."

He falls silent. The sound of his glass hitting the wall punctures the tension in the room and before she has time to blink he's standing in front of her. He grabs a chunk of her hair and yanks it back. She lets out a cry of pain, reaching for her head and feeling the muscles in her neck tense up with discomfort.

"Don't lie to me, " he spits out.

"I'm not, baby. I promise. I love you, " she pleads and he gives her hair a forceful tug.

"Don't lie to me!" He screams out this time and she flinches. He grabs hold of her jaw with his free hand and squeezes.

"If you loved me you wouldn't make me look bad in front of other people." He tells her, with a soft voice that drips in anger and wild eyes to match. He let's go of her abruptly, and she rubs her aching jaw.

"Baby I'm, I'm sorry. I just couldn't let him wait any longer, he-he's my boss and was kind enough to take us out to dinner. I was just..." He shuts her up with a slap to the face that leaves her disoriented and she falls to her knees. A kick to the side follows and she flattens out on the floor holding her bruised but thankfully not broken ribs. He straddles her, crushing her stomach with his weight, and she's reminded yet again how much smaller she is in comparison to him. How powerless and insignificant her existence is. These are emotions he used to nurse her out of, whenever she stood by his side (the old him) she felt invincible, she stood tall with him. Now they're wounds that he inflicts continuously. Each encounter taking a little piece of her bravery away, diminishing her shine, turning her into a living corpse. Cold and lifeless. His large hands close around her throat.

"US out to dinner? He didn't take US out to dinner. He took YOU out to dinner." He says in a strained voice as each delusional sentence makes him squeeze tighter and tighter. She has no option but to stare up at his animal-like eyes. Rage screams at her from them, a dark and empty emotion, that lets her know for sure...The Barry she knows and loves isn't there. Her eyes burn with tears that she refuses to shed, the only act of defiance she can muster at the moment. She claws at his hands desperately but he doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he tightens his grip around her neck and lifts her head only to bang it back down on to the floor. That knocks what little breath she has left out of her and her vision blurs with the sudden impact but she can't scream out her pain. You need air to scream and she currently has none. The grip around her throat eases with the dislodging of one of his hands, allowing her to take minuscule breaths, but she has no time to appreciate the insignificant relief before her drowsy mind begins to fear what he might do with his newly freed weapon. She doesn't have to wonder long.

One blow, two blows, three blows, delivered one after the other. Before long, her burning right eye begins to swell, one of the many reminders she'll have to deal with in the morning. On the fourth blow she feels her skin sting as it rips, he's drawn blood. For an argument this minor he doesn't usually go any further than a little bloodshed, he's made his point there's no need to press on. As always his control strikes her as odd. For a man with his superhuman abilities, it would be easy to just lose it and kill her, she would have actually preferred it that way. Yet he somehow manages to contain himself making his abuse all the more deliberate and heartbreaking.

His grip around her neck tightens once more and he brings her ear up to his lips.

"He can't take you away from me, honey. You're mine." He whispers before slamming her head on the floor once again. This time, it's lights out.

She floats back into consciousness a while later. Her head is hazy and her vision is partially impaired. She's trying to piece together her fragmented thoughts but before her mind completely clears her senses come back to life and that's when she feels it. The pain. Prior events come back to haunt her but not as memories, instead, they make themselves known through physical aches. She tries to move and the sound of water echoes through the room.

"Shhh, Iris. Don't move." He whispers, his voice floating towards her from a distance. He called her Iris, he's back. She blinks, her swollen eye burning with the action, and tries to bring her coherence up to 100%. She manages a disappointing 50%. That's just enough for her to realise that she's in their bathroom, in a tub of warm water, with an ice pack pressed against her right eye. He'd done it again. Hit her. Scott, her boss, had invited them both out to dinner during the annual CCPN fundraiser and she'd gone without her husband because he was late. That earned her a pummeling.

"Are you alright? Does something hurt?" He asks concerned. He seems to be back to his old self but Iris knows better. That darkness is just lying asleep somewhere inside him, waiting to take over after the smallest of challenges. She doesn't speak. She's too sore and too afraid to answer. She can't even nod her response or her maddening headache might worsen. She feels him press his forehead to the side of hers.

"I thought I lost you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers then plants a gentle kiss to her cheek. Iris closes her eyes and despite the voice in her head telling her not to be a fool, she listens to her heart(as always) and allows herself to enjoy his affection.

"I love you. I love you so, so, much Iris. You know that right?" He pleads.

"I know Barry. I love you too." She manages to croak out, her voice raspy and hoarse. He drops the ice pack (which Iris now realises he was holding to nurse her half shut-eye) and she turns her head to look at him. Once again she's taken aback by his eyes, the rage isn't there anymore. In its place are longing, guilt and love. So much love. Her heart trembles with the smallest sliver of hope. Maybe this time he'll stay. Maybe this time he really means it when he says that he's sorry. She reaches a weak hand up and places it on his cheek, offering him a forgiving, smile.

"I can't lose you Iris. I just can't. I can't live without you."

"Shh. It's ok babe. You're never going to lose me. I'm yours forever."

She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. A part of her wants to pull back and throw up. He'd hurt her for the umpteenth time and it was bound to happen again. The other part of her, the broken part, the majority of her wants desperately for his words to be true. That part needs reassurance that she hasn't stayed this long for nothing, that there's still hope for them after all. That the man she loves is still here with her, he's fighting through it just like she is. He responds by moving his lips against hers. His kisses are soft, caring. Nothing like the brutal punches he'd thrown at her earlier. She feels his hand move down her body tenderly before he hooks his arm beneath her knees and with his other hand pressed to her back he lifts her from the tub.

"Barry? What are you doing?" She asks as he carries her back into the bedroom.

"I'm gonna make it all better." He whispers and a shiver runs down her spine at the hint of lust that punctuates his words. He places her gently onto their bed and the sheets beneath her are soaked within seconds. Barry's lips find hers in the dark and he takes her breath away once again, this time with passionate kisses. He turns his attention onto her neck, kissing the tender skin and occasionally sucking it, leaving marks of a different nature. A soft moan escapes her lips as he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth while his fingers tease her lower lips. He slowly presses two of them into her and she whispers out his name. He teases her breast with his tongue while his fingers work on her sweet spot to get her off.

"You're so beautiful, " he whispers. "I love you Iris." He declares and she wants to answer but her mind is clouded by her nearing orgasm.

"I-I" her breath comes out in short puffs and she can barely string a sentence together.

"Shhh, you don't have to say, anything baby. Just come for me. Show me how much you love me." Her brain takes note of the pet name but she's already too far gone to stop now. Her hips answer his provocations and to add the cherry on top he vibrates his fingers slightly sending her over the edge. Her back arches as a wave of ecstasy washes over her. He withdraws his fingers from inside her and in the darkness, she can feel his smile. He kisses her, gently but it seems cold somehow.

"I told you you're mine. No one else can take you over like I just did." He whispers into her ear, shattering the brief wonderland she'd built for herself and bringing her face to face with her reality.

She's in love with a monster.

...

The next morning she wakes up naked in an empty bed. She's curled up into a ball, freezing in the early morning chill. He didn't even care enough to cover her. Feeling exposed and violated, she gets up and walks to their bathroom. Staring at the mirror she's confronted with the truth, she'd fallen for his act again. The skin around her eye is purple and pink and she still can't open it fully. Her ribs are bruised where he'd kicked her and her neck has the imprint of his fingers etched into it like a sickening tattoo. Along with the love bites he'd given her. It wasn't an act of love, it was him marking his territory. She was his.

All the lies he'd told while making her quiver with need come back to assault her. He can't live without her. He loves her, she's beautiful. He could barely see her how could he call her beautiful! Her reflection blurs behind tears that she'd been fighting off last night but now allows herself to shed.

Stupid.

That's what she is. Completely and utterly stupid for still believing in his sharp tongue. Her chest is suddenly crushed by an unimaginable shame. She came for him. Her body still responds to his touch, still caves to his advances. Bile rises at the back of her throat and she rushes to the toilet to expel her disgust.

Disgust in herself.

Iris fills the bathtub with water and settles in to it. She grabs her loofa and scrubs vigorously, further bruising her already sensitive skin. The pain doesn't bother her. It has become her friend. Her close companion both physically and emotionally. So close in fact that she no longer remembers who she was without it. She submerges herself completely into the tub and in the partial silence of being underwater, she prays in thought that her heart just stop. That her breath hitches and she slips into a never-ending sleep. She opens her mouth and breathes, the sting of water in her lungs causing her to convulse. Iris shoots out of the water, coughing and wheezing. Gasping for breath. Her prayer hasn't been answered.

Disillusioned she gets ready for work and to her relief her husband doesn't come home before she leaves. The sun is up now and despite the slight heat of the day Iris arrives at work with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She hid the damage to her face as best as she could with concealer but there isn't much she could have done about the slight swelling. She keeps to herself, afraid of all the concerned glances and difficult questions, that is until she's cornered in the meetings room by Scott.

"Set up duty West?" He asks as he steps inside to find her laying out folders that contain the topics of discussion for today's meeting.

She looks up at him and offers him a forlorn smile.

"Yeah, Linda didn't come in today, I think she's sick, so I took her turn." She answers. Scott's smile falls from his face and she's reminded of her appearance. She immediately drops her gaze and turns her face to the ground.

"What happened?" He asks, undeniably worried as he steps towards her.

"Nothing I just, " she chuckles nervously. "I fell down the stairs is all. Clumsy me." She lies and her boss sees right through her excuse.

"Iris?" He asks again, his tone begging her to tell him the truth. She remains still, too ashamed to face him. He reaches out to touch her bruised skin but only manages to get close enough that she can feel the warmth from his hand on her cheek before she flinches. With her eyes closed and in a voice so soft that if he weren't paying attention he'd miss it, she allows herself a much needed moment of weakness.

"Please don't, " she whispers. "If he finds out he'll kill me."

Scott's eyes widen though Iris doesn't see it with her own still being closed. He feels a knot form in his throat and asks,

"Who? Barry?"

At the mention of his name Iris begins to panic. Her paranoia has escalated over the years to the point where she fears he has eyes and ears everywhere.

"I've said too much," She says flustered and rushes to the door.

"Iris wait, please. I wanna help you." His voice is coated with a layer of sincere concern and her hand wavers on the door handle as she imagines how easy it would be to just give in. To let him hold her while she cries, to feel safe again. Yet she looks up at him with sorrowful eyes and says,

"Scott, please. I'm asking you as a friend.  For both our sakes, forget I said anything."

With that, she walks away heavy-hearted. At her table, she slumps down on to the office chair and hides her face in her hands. The area around her bruised eye stings with the pressure and she suddenly feels exhausted, weighed down by the crushing realisation that there is no escape. If she so much as contemplates leaving he will find her, and he'll kill whoever stands in his way. The guilt would crush her and there's no way to escape on her own. She's not strong enough to leave him. Not alone. Her wedding ring burns around her finger like a noose. Each day it grows tighter and tighter and she's losing her breath, fading slowly, craving a sweet release that approaches at a snail-like a pace. Until then, she waits. Trapped with no escape.

[izupie]

‘Beep Beep Beep’ - Chapter 9 - Tranquility

This is a different kind of chapter, but hopefully you all like the result. I was very pleased with it in the end (it went through many versions and rewrites aaa) 

I can’t believe it’s all nearly over ! This has been such a crazy journey and I am so happy and excited whenever I post a new chapter - thank you all for sticking with me!

((What gratuitous shower scene I have no idea what you’re talking aBoUT))

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>>>[Izupie’s ko-fi] - your support is hugely appreciated;; <3 <3

>>>[Izupie’s AO3] - please consider checking out my other Izuocha works too?

>>>[AO3 Link to Beep Beep Beep] - If you want to go to the start~

>>>[AO3 Link to the newest chapter] - Here it is! Chapter 9!<<<

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A persistent buzzing sound woke Izuku up gently. He blinked in confusion and looked over to where it was coming from – a tiny blinking green light on his bedside table revealed his phone was the culprit. Oh, he’d got a message.

He’d turned his phone onto silent mode since the day he’d got it, so he didn’t even know what any of its tones sounded like. It wasn’t like anybody ever contacted him on it except his mom anyway, so he’d never had a problem with leaving it on his bedside table while he slept. He didn’t think it had ever gone off during the night before. It was odd for something like a phone vibration to wake him up though, since he slept so deeply.

Izuku pushed himself upright and reached for his phone.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Izuku jumped and slammed his hand onto his alarm. It had startled him so badly that his phone had slipped right out of his fingers and clattered to the floor between the bed and the table.

His heart was still pounding as he picked up the old clock and checked the cracked display; it read ‘5:00’ in softly glowing red. That explained why his phone had been able to wake him up – his body clock usually got him up around this time anyway, even if there was a rare occasion that he didn’t set an alarm. He let out a small huff as he tried in vain to turn down the volume, but the button for it had broken a long time ago. When it woke him up through sleep it seemed quieter somehow. He tapped the volume button harder, but it still did nothing, so Izuku placed the clock back onto his table in defeat. It had been stuck at maximum for quite a while but hearing its broken volume properly for the first time made him suddenly very conscious of his neighbours. The sound wouldn’t be able to travel that loudly through walls would it?

Izuku ruffled his hair and threw off his duvet.

He really needed a new alarm clock.

Izuku stretched his arms above his head, feeling the satisfying pop of sleep-settled bones in his back and elbows, and absentmindedly rubbed his scarred arm as he glanced guiltily over at his to-do list, catching sight of the reminder to ring his mom. Maybe he’d offer for her to have the clock back instead of throwing it away? She got overly emotionally attached to stuff like that. (Which was why she had a loft filled with an embarrassing amount of boxes of baby photos and old toys.) But that would kind of feel like he was returning her gift, despite it being years old… He supposed there was space on one of his comic book shelves in the living room… It could live there as a memory of moving out to university rather than as an actual functioning clock, since the display was cracked too.

Maybe he’d grown to become overly emotionally attached to stuff too and hadn’t even realised it. His mom had always joked that the only thing he’d inherited from her was her height, but he knew from the sad smile she gave the photo in her purse (when she thought he wasn’t looking) that deep down it didn’t really bother her to think that he was more of his father than her.

Not that he knew much about him.

Izuku splashed cold water onto his face and rubbed it dry vigorously with a towel. Yesterday had been a stressful day, so he was feeling a little more tired than usual. At least getting up on time meant he had plenty of time for his standard morning routine.

He was trying desperately not to think of Ochako, but in trying not to think of her it of course meant she was all he could think about. 

He put on his gym clothes and tried to focus on the workout routine he was going to do; he’d read a great post on Instagram about a training set that would put more focus on his core muscles. It sounded like it was going to be tough, but he relished the challenge. Though he probably wasn’t going to be quite so enthusiastic about it when he was complaining about his aching body to Denki in the ambulance later.

Izuku checked his watch and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on his kitchen table while the kettle boiled. It was definitely a coffee morning. The banana was a little browner than he would have liked - since he hadn’t gone shopping in a while and he often neglected to eat the fruit he bought, despite insisting on always keeping the fruit bowl full - but it was the energy that he needed. Still waiting for his old and slow kettle to boil, Izuku opened his cupboard and winced at the baskets of pills and first aid kits he still had stashed away in there. He really needed to sort it all out. Some of that stuff was probably out of date. He picked up a box of vitamin supplements and swallowed a little vitamin tablet down dry. He’d been very prone to accidents and illnesses as a child, and he’d been so scared about dying and leaving his mom all alone that he’d developed anxiety towards his health. When he’d moved out of his mom’s house he’d taken all of his remedies with him, though he’d slowly started needing them less and less.

Nobody ever would have believed he would end up being a paramedic; meek little Izuku who visited the doctor’s every other week with his injuries and maladies. Toshinori was the only one who truly believed that he could do it. Even his own mom had been concerned about how he would deal with surrounding himself with the very thing he’d been falling into his whole life. But that had been part of the reason he’d wanted to do it. In the end it was his own experiences and hard work that had helped him to grow beyond his anxieties and his accident-prone nature, and now Ochako had opened a whole other world of life outside of his work that he was excited to explore too. Friendship and enjoying someone else’s company… preferably hers.

Izuku shook his head to stop that train of thought while he added a touch of cold water to his steaming mug of coffee and downed it all in one go.

He couldn’t wait for her to come back, but he hoped she was doing okay and getting some quality time to heal up, though he was sure her parents would be taking good care of her.

The door locked with a definitive click behind him as he turned the key to his apartment, then he took off at a brisk jog down the corridor.

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

It was only when Izuku finally made it into the ambulance that he remembered his cell phone. Denki was lounging in the passenger seat, cursing and swiping his finger on his own phone.

“C’mon, be a shiny, be a shiny. Damn- it’s not shiny. Gonna catch you anyway for leading me on- Hey, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost bro.” Denki continued to swipe virtual pokéballs across the screen on Pokémon Go, not even appearing to look up as Izuku settled into the driver’s seat. (It was his turn to drive.)

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he sighed, “I just saw your phone and remembered that I got a message on mine this morning, but I dropped it before I could check it. So it’s currently still sandwiched somewhere between my bed and the bedside table.”

Denki hissed between his teeth. “Man, I’d be losing my mind if that was me. I didn’t think you’d be that bothered though, don’t you leave it in your locker while we’re on shift anyway?”

“Yeah, but what if someone needed me! And I’m sitting here with no idea. I should have checked it,” Izuku lamented, placing his forehead on the steering wheel. What if it had been Ochako?

“What if it was your girlfriend?” Denki finally looked up from his phone, somehow echoing Izuku’s thoughts.

“Sh-She’s not my-” Izuku jolted upright and waved his hands in a fluster but stopped as he saw the grin on his friend’s face. “Evil,” he mumbled with narrowed eyes.

Denki laughed. “Ah, you’re too easy, bro. I should feel bad ‘cause you’re such an easy target.”

Izuku put his forehead back onto the steering wheel with a tiny thud. “Thanks.”

Denki laughed louder and patted Izuku’s shoulder playfully, then leant back in his chair and folded his arms. His voice was uncharacteristically serious when he said, “Dude. Listen to me. I know all about relationships and-”

“I thought you’d never actually been in a relationship?” Izuku pointed out from the steering wheel.

“Fu- that’s- hey, that’s literally not even important to the point I’m making, okay. I could have had a relationship before now. I’m not afraid of flying solo, so I’m just biding my time until someone meets my crazy high standards.” Denki pouted. “Anyway, I’m trying to have like. A moment here. Bro to bro. So…”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Go on, I’m listening.” Izuku could barely hide the amusement out of his voice. He smiled as he sat back up to give his friend his full attention.

Denki cleared his throat a little. “Look, it’s simple - you just need to ask her out.”

“I’ve been trying to,” Izuku groaned wearily. That’s his big advice?

“Well try harder!” Denki gripped a fist in front of him in a battle pose.

Izuku was about to protest that he’d been trying as hard as he could, but he blinked and thought about it instead. Had he been trying his hardest? At any point he could have asked her out if he’d really gone for it. The times they’d been interrupted, or something had disconnected their schedules… He could have forged ahead and found a way around any obstacle if he’d really put his mind to it. That’s what he was good at. He thought of the flowers currently sitting in a saucepan of water on his kitchen table (on account of him not owning any vases). Try harder… That had been a step in the right direction but… It was such simple advice, but maybe Denki was right…

Ochako could have died that day…

The realisation hit him; it was time to be bold.

Denki must have seen that he was seriously considering what he had said because he continued in a smug voice, “See? I know what I’m talking about. From what you’ve told me about her, it sounds like she’s totally into you. Next time you see her you’ve got to go for it man, seize the day, go big or go home!”

“That’s actually... Wow, um, thanks for the advice Denki.” Izuku scratched the back of his neck, affection lighting up his smile. He spent so much time working with Denki that he forgot that they’d already built up a strong bond, just from how much they had to rely on each other and work so closely together. He was a jokester and didn’t take himself or life too seriously, but he was a loyal friend. It made Izuku even more determined to invite his friends to do fun things outside of work.

“You two will be one of those really grossly adorable couples,” Denki added, pulling a face.

Izuku gasped and playfully tapped him on the arm, pretending it was a punch. “Hey!”

Denki grinned and swatted his hand away. “Too easy.”

Usually a call came in while they were taking over from the night shift crew and getting settled into the ambulance, but today the radio was silent. Between incidents they would drive around the local area, ready to attend anything if they were contacted, so Izuku put the vehicle into gear, pulled away from the hospital and followed a familiar route around the city. Denki occasionally got his phone out of his pocket and cursed and muttered about shiny Pokémon.

Izuku could feel the anticipation of getting to his own phone like a background buzz through his mind as he drove. It had been days since he’d been able to work without something on his mind. Ever since he’d met Ochako…

He guessed he needed to prepare for the next seven days being like this. Hopefully they’d be able to stay in touch and it wouldn’t seem that bad.

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

By the time Izuku dragged himself back through his front door they’d attended a vast array of different calls and incidents. He shrugged off his coat and threw it onto the kitchen table, beside the saucepan holding the bouquet of flowers, ruminating on the most notable calls they’d attended as he shuffled into his shower. There was a young woman who’d broken her arm in a horse riding accident, an old couple with scrapes and bruises after a minor car crash, a lucky young boy with some bruises that had fallen out of a tree and terrified his parents, and a middle-aged man who’d had a cardiac arrest at work. Denki had successfully shocked the man’s heart back into a rhythm with the defibrillator, but it had been a stressful call, and had kept them busy long after their shift had supposed to end.

Attending patients like that made Izuku glad that he chose the career he did. Without the two of them that man would certainly have died – cardiac arrest was as bad as it got. But he was safely in the hospital and things were looking positive for him, so Izuku wanted to check on him tomorrow and see how he was doing. It felt good to be able to do that without fear of Kacchan catching him checking in on the patients and yelling at him. The air between them was clearer now, though he suspected Kacchan would never be friendly and pleasant, but that was okay – it’s just the way he is.

Izuku gratefully stood under the shower’s hot spray and sighed. His days were long and hard, but he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. The water soothed his tired muscles and washed away the sweat of a good day’s work, so for a little while he simply stood and let the water run in hot rivers over his skin. He rubbed his scarred arm gently and flexed it up and down, working out the stiffness and aches.

Once he’d rubbed his hair vigorously with a towel and put on a sleeping shirt and some sweatpants, he made his way back into the kitchen, flopped onto a chair, and laid his head on his arms. Not only had it been a busy day, but the new workout he’d tried meant that nearly every muscle was aching, so it would be amazing to eat some quick food and climb into bed-

My phone!

Izuku leaped up from his seat so fast that his chair screeched and fell backwards with a clatter, and he ran to the bedroom, almost sliding to his knees on the carpet in his haste to get down to the floor. His hand groped in the narrow gap between his bed and the small bedside table and he crinkled his nose a little at the feeling of all the dust on the carpet, knowing he hadn’t ever put the hoover down there the whole time he’d lived in the apartment. Finally, he felt his pulse quicken as his fingers closed on something solid.

Izuku pulled it out with a triumphant sound and unlocked the screen. His eyes widened. Eleven new messages. That was more messages than he got in a whole month.

They were all from Ochako.

<Hey Izuku! Just wanted to let you know I’m feeling much better (-^v^-) I think I had too much sleep in the hospital though, I’ve woken up naturally at 5am and I can’t get back to sleep lol>

<I know you always get up at 5 though so I thought I’d say good morning too!>

<Oh the reception here is reallyyyy baaaaad so I can only get a signal when I’m standing at a crazy angle in the bath tub (don’t ask how I found this out) so I can’t get your messages or reply to them very easy (T_T) unless I spend my whole week standing in the bath….. hm…. tempting….…>

<OMG I just remembered the clock in my old room is 10 mins too fast!! I really hope this didn’t wake you up!!! Sorry!!!>

<I guess you’re busy today with work – hope it’s not too bad for you! I’ve been alternating the last few hours between being made to relax on the couch and being sent into the garden for some fresh air. My mom’s favourite cure for like *everything* is Fresh Air,, she says it’s why she’s always ‘healthy as a horse’ lol.>

<My parents are off for the next few days then they’ll be going back to work. I’m hoping to spend some time with my friend Iida when they go back, since he only works until mid-afternoon each day. It’ll be really fun to spend some time with him again! I haven’t told my mom yet but I’m probably going to go and work with her on some of the days next week too. She works on a farm just outside of town, so hopefully I can take a picture of some of the animals and I’ll show you when I get back? I can’t believe my dad still hasn’t got wifi for the house!! And mobile internet around here isn’t even good enough to send you a photo (rip me)>

<Mmmm, just had some home-made stew, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much you would have loved it!! (>v<) I hope you’re not working too hard Deku! And please eat something filling and wholesome if you are! (I know I know it’s like the pot calling the kettle black) (omg my mom’s terrible small town phrases are rubbing off on me and I’ve only been here one day,,,) (I’ll come back into the city and you won’t be able to understand me!!) Also I finally convinced my mom to stop sending me into the garden now the sun’s going down. I told her I’m feeling better but if I stay out there in the cold too long I’ll just get dick again>

<*SICK>

<I meant SICK!!>

<omg autocorrect nooooo !!!>

<You must have had a really busy day :( :( Just gonna look at my parent’s holiday photos (which’ll make me feel bad that they came home early because of me…) and then go to bed. Hopefully I’ll be able to catch you tomorrow! X>

Izuku hadn’t been able to stop smiling the whole time he’d read through her messages. He could almost hear her voice while he read them.

It made him sad to think that she hadn’t had a reply from him all day.

He looked at the timestamp on the last message and realised she’d sent it half an hour ago, so chances were she’d still be awake. She’d said she can only receive and send messages when she was in the bathroom, so it’s not like she’d get it until tomorrow anyway, but he’d still send it, he decided, tapping on the screen.

<Hi Ochako! Really sorry I haven’t been able to reply to your messages. I dropped my phone down the side of my bed this morning! (Long story but I need a new alarm clock) I forgot to grab it before I left today and I’ve only just seen what you sent me. I’m so so glad you’re feeling better! I bet you can’t wait for the stitches to come out now. I remember how much I hated them. Shouto is a wizard at removing stitches, it’s a shame you’re not having them removed here, I could have asked him for a favour!>

<Please take lots of photos! :) It would be so cool to see where you grew up. Working on a farm sounds like fun but I bet it’s loads of hard work?? And definitely have lots of fun with your friend, he’s the one you said you used to watch the superhero movies with right? Pretty sure you mentioned him back when we first met? Wow, that feels like such a long time ago now! (me remembering that doesn’t seem creepy right?) (me bringing up that it might be creepy makes it creepy doesn’t it??) Relax and heal up, I’m sure we’ll get to talk soon x>

<P.S. excellent autocorrect fail!! X>

Izuku huffed out a little laugh as he tapped send on his final message and smiled tenderly at his phone. A knotted, concerned feeling lifted from him; knowing that she was going to be having a nice week away was both comforting and sad.

He missed her.

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<Hey Izuku! I had a bit of a lazy start to this morning, since my extra sleep finally sorted itself out, so I know you’ll be at work by now but I hope you have a nice rest of your day! X>

<Hey Ochako! Thanks for your message, hope your day has been good so far too. Just having lunch back in the break room at the hospital for once. Usually Denki convinces me to have a McDonalds in the ambulance, but I wanted to send you a message, so we’ve come back so I can grab my phone out of my locker and I made him have a cup of instant noodles with me. That’s a little bit healthier right?? Haha x>

<Ah! Sorry I just got your message, I was having lunch out with my parents! There’s this amaaazing little restaurant near the farm my mom works at, and they use all the produce from it. I swear you can taste the Freshness ! It’s literally a signal black zone though. Oh! There’s this really cute wishing well that they’ve built into the restaurant so I threw a coin in it and made a wish (can’t tell you what it was though or it won’t come true!!) but I did take a good selfie with it that I’ll probably make my profile picture as soon as I return to the land of reliable internet x>

<Hope you enjoyed your noodles, definitely better than a burger, but did it taste as good ? I’m not going to tell you what I had – it might make you too jealous! X>

<Late reply but Wow, wishing well restaurant sounds cool. I hope your wish comes true. Don’t tell me what you ate, I’ll definitely get jealous! Another microwave dinner for me tonight. 12 hour shift ran over again and I’m so tired I think I’m just going to eat and crawl into bed. Hopefully we’ll be able to catch each other tomorrow? Night night x>

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<Hey Izuku! You’ll already be at work when you get this again (T_T) by the time I saw your message last night it had already been a couple of hours and I didn’t want to send you something and maybe wake you up :( :( I can’t believe we keep missing each other like this! I’m not busy later so I’ll spend a while going and checking my phone (I think my mom is getting worried by the amount of times I keep disappearing into the bathroom lmao) x>

<omg noooo, change of plan! There’s a projector being set up in the town hall tonight and they’re going to show some old clips from the school plays through the years – me and my old school friends will be in them! I’ll get to see Iida there too!  Sorry Izuku!! X>

<Don’t worry! Hope you’re having fun looking at some old memories! We finished on time today so me and Denki are having an after work coffee at a café you might know well… Your friend Mina was there and she said to tell you that she’s having to cover some of your evening shifts so you owe her, but she also said to tell you that she loves you and misses you. She’s so funny – and so full of energy! Hopefully I’ll get to see you there too one day?? X>

<Aaaaa! I can’t believe you went to Uravity! Please tell me that Mina didn’t tell you all the embarrassing stories she has of me! (>A<;) If she did, they’re all lies!! (I’m glad you can’t see me now actually, I’m sitting on top of Iida’s shoulders in the parking lot of the town hall – it’s the only place signal gets through here!) (again, don’t ask how we found out.) x>

<I’m dying over that image, and I don’t even know what your friend looks like! I loved it at Uravity, the stars and planets and stuff are really pretty. I can see why you like it. I’ve never even seen you there, but just the aesthetic and being there reminded me so much of you :( xx>

<When Mina’s boyfriend came to pick her up, she sent him over to us to wait while she got ready and he’s a really cool guy! I recognised him from the gym sometimes, though we’ve never spoken, so that was really funny. Him and Denki got on like a house on fire! Next time I go to the gym and see him there I’ll say hi, and maybe we can go back to Uravity again the three of us sometime. I’ll see if Shouto wants to come next time too! Ah, sorry, rambling – anyway, hopefully we can actually chat tomorrow??! Goodnight Xx>

<A bit late but I’m so pleased for you Izuku! Eijiro is super cool, you’ll like him a lot. I’d love it if you two could be friends! (^v^) I told Iida about you and about how we met and it made me miss you too. Night xxx>

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<Day off today :) having a long overdue visit to my mom’s. I decided to turn up as a surprise and when she opened the door I gave her a bunch of flowers and she burst into tears haha it was cute. Made me feel bad that I haven’t been in touch with her as often as I should. But she cries really easily anyway so it wasn’t that surprising. (It’s where I get it from...) Have a good day - I really hope we can synch up schedules and chat properly later! Xx>

<Sorry I haven’t been in touch today Izuku! I got my stitches out! I was kind of excited because I can usually get some signal at the doctor’s surgery, but I forgot to charge my phone last night and it died on the way there. Noooo! RIP. Good news though: stitches came out fine. Doctor said I might get a little scar on my head, but it might heal over time completely instead. Guess I’ll wait and see?? Hope you had a nice day with your mom - me and parents went for a walk in the park after my appointment so that was nice <3 Cold though! Glad I had my scarf on. And yes! Definitely! I hope so too xx>

<Izuku? Are you free? Xx>

<??? Xx>

<Ochako I am so so sorry! I just got your messages! How are we doing this?! I’m at the hospital - I’ve been called in to cover a night shift at the last minute and it’s for a good friend so I really couldn’t say no. Shino was one of the paramedics who helped you that morning and her daughter isn’t very well so she’s taking a few days off to look after her - I said I’d cover for her :( It means I’ll be sleeping tomorrow for my night shift tomorrow night, so I won’t be able to message you. I’m going to switch my phone off now though, so please keep sending me messages and I’ll have a read of them after I get up tomorrow night before my shift. It’ll make me smile before I start! :) Sorry again, this is such bad timing huh? Xxx>

<Sorry, just saw your reply! Ah no don’t worry! It’s ok! Night shift sounds rough! Please get some good rest tomorrow! You’re so kind Izuku, ready to jump in at the last minute to help out a friend. It’s not long until I get to come home anyway, so we’ll see each other then for sure! Can’t wait xxx>

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<Another cold and dark morning here. I hope your shift wasn’t too bad! Got up with my mom this morning and went with her to work. Oh boy. It was wayyy too early to be working that hard oof. The animals never do what you want them to do... The owners of the farm are this sweet old couple though and they usually give my mom lunch every day so they did one for me too - bread slices nearly as thick as my arm(!) huge wedge of cheese inside and some kind of homemade pickle? It was super tasty xxx>

<It’s been nice to be looked after by my parents again for a little while but I’m ready to come back home now. It’s been nice to have a bit of tranquillity, since I’m always so busy and I don’t really make enough time to enjoy the little things - but I’m working on it, something you inspired in me xxx>

<I’m missing friends and I actually really miss my job. Every morning my dad makes himself a coffee so by the time I get into the kitchen there’s this lingering coffee smell and it makes me nostalgic xxx>

<I got to briefly ring Mina today (still standing in the bath) and the signal was a bit crackly but it was nice to hear her voice again! She said it’s been a mixture of herself and the new boy Kurai who’ve been covering my shifts, so I feel kind of bad that I’ve put them both to so much trouble (he’s a student though so I expect he was glad of the overtime too) xxx>

<Ok. I told my parents I’m going home tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed it but I really want to get back - so I’m hopping on a train tomorrow afternoon. Should be back in the city about 7.30ish? I could get a taxi from the station, but they’re so overpriced, so I’ll get the bus to the apartment - which means I’ll be getting home about 8 ! (^o^) I know that your night shift starts around then so we won’t be able to see each other, but I’ve still got a few days off work for my sicknote, so I’ll be in all day the day after! Xxx>

<Please knock on my door when you get back in the morning if you’re not too tired!! I’ll be happy to see you whatever time it is xxx>

<Hey Ochako, just about to head out for work and I can’t stop smiling - your messages really did cheer me up before my shift! I’m so excited to see you and talk to you properly finally. You can tell me all about your hometown! And your parents! And your friends! I’m so sad I’m working tomorrow night, I wish I could see you straight away, but I’ll be sure to come see you the morning after - no matter how tired I am xxx>

<Xxx>

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<Train feels extra long today. I think it’s because I can’t wait to get back! Nearly home! Xxx>

<On your way though! Xxx>

<Wait,, omg are you there??? X>

<I am! Are you?! X>

<I AM! Ahh I can’t believe we’re finally messaging at the same time!! (T_T) <3 xxx>

<It’s so good to talk to you in real time! Xxx>

<This is Amazing! I literally just screeched at my phone and there’s a lady looking at me strangely lmao!! X>

<I’m just getting ready for work, I’m having ‘breakfast’ haha x>

<Hope it’s nice then! I brought some snacks with me but it’s getting really hard to resist the lady that comes down the train with the snack trolley... I might have to get a coffee... X>

<I’m not going to encourage anything but you should totally get the coffee xxx>

<That’s completely encouraging me!! xxx>

<Man, it sucks that we’re going to just miss each other :( xxx>

<I knowwww ! But we’ve already planned tomorrow and I will fight the universe itself if it puts anything else in our way xxx>

<No way, tomorrow will be perfect - no crazy interruptions, no accidents, I promise xxx>

<Oh, got to go! It’s pulling into the station! Xxx>

<No problem, see you tomorrow! Have a good night xxx>

<So I just got back, wow that whole journey was long,,, Hope you have a good shift, I’ll see you tomorrow morning (finally!) can’t wait xxx>

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>>>>[Read on AO3]<<<<

[twili-sword-vaati]

On the subject of Ganondorf and Demise

I’m just putting words here, not everything here is canon, I’m really just shuffling through my interpretation of the loz series.

You know since I’ve adopted hcs like “Ghirahim revived Demise because he’d actually die without a master” and “The diamond on Ghirahim’s cheek and his cut left ear aren’t intentional, but actually scars left behind by Demise” into my loz lore interpretation pile, my respect and want to fawn over Demise has really melted into a silent resentment. Not for his reincarnations like Ganondorf, but Demise specifically. Like... I hced that the reason why Demise was after the Triforce in the first place was because he envied Hylia’s ability to create life. And Hylia seems like a nice enough Goddess, I’d suspect that she’d be willing to coexist with Demise just fine, let him add his own touch to life on the surface somehow. But when you think about hcs like Ghirahim being terrified of thunderstorms, and the scars, and analyze how Demise treats Ghirahim right when he first greets Demise after his arrival, you could really see why Hylia refused Demise access to the surface and her people, because she felt that what had been put upon Ghirahim by Demise, could also have been put upon her Hylians.(Currently disregarding the fact that Hylia had treated Fi with a similar attitude. She didn’t physically attack her, but definitely treated her as only property, meant to be a tool in creating the hero, Link.) I always used to read Ghirahim’s devotion to Demise as an obligation born from one-sided love, but now, to me? I feel that devotion was born from fear and desperation, possibly isolation as well. 

Of course, I can defend Demise however. I could say it was a different time! People didn’t believe sword spirits could be autonomous or have feelings! But that doesn’t erase the fact that they actually can. Sword spirits may have been regarded as something akin to intimate objects, but that ‘‘thing’’ that follows you around and walks and talks and pulses like it breathes or has a heart beat certainly isn’t a literal pillow to punch, or a door to slam. I could say that Demise was a young god (Which I believe is true, I also believe that for Hylia.) who couldn’t have known better! But that doesn’t take away what happened to Ghirahim, and see defense number one as well. If Demise cannot be trusted with ‘’fake life’’, what is he towards ‘’real life’’? I could say that Ganondorf is a direct reincarnation of Demise(which I believe, despite Demise saying it was his hatred that gets reborn), and Demise would actually be a good overseer because of how competent of a person Ganondorf seems to be! 

But here’s the point. What separates Ganondorf from Demise is that by Demise throwing himself into a cycle of mortal lives, he becomes surrounded by the company of the beings Hylia denied him such a long time ago. For Demise to be jealous of Hylia’s powers, her existence, her position, her relationship with life on the surface, he’d have to be lonely. If you are lonely you lack experience with other beings and lack emotional development. Demise, no matter how well spoken he sounds, will childishly call the Hylians cowards for hiding from a god behind their god because he didn’t get to be apart of them, he will write them off as lesser beings because they became the center of a gathering of many gods, a group that he was shunned from for reasons that he cannot comprehend at all. Ganondorf will pity Hylians and analyze their behavior, study their wrongdoings and think ‘What should I do different?’ When Ganondorf sees injustice he takes matters into his own hands with an intent to change something for the better. When Ganondorf is human, he is raised in a tribe of people that love him, he lives and has experiences with other beings. He makes mistakes and learns. He grows and changes. He becomes wiser than Demise. If we are to assume each incarnation of Ganondorf has memories of his past human life, then that means he only builds upon himself with each coming new life. Ganondorf still chases the Triforce, but when he does, it’s because he knows what to do with it, and what he wants to do with it has a different meaning to Ganondorf than it does Demise. Ganondorf is different from Demise because Demise’s quest for the Triforce, so that he could rewrite the surface, make anything however he wants it to be, actually paved the path for him to eventually, hopefully, rewrite himself, and become somebody worthy of existing with Hylians on the surface.

I’m aware of the arrogance of Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf, of his quest for ultimate power that became blind destruction. I am aware of the sinister nature of Twilight Princess Ganondorf, how he was a manipulator who only seemed to want to sit smugly on the throne and watch his enemies burn to ashen corpses in front of him. I know about the absolute havoc Ocarina of Time Ganondorf put Hyrule in. But, the Ganondorf that might make someone think Demise is worthy of ruling anything is Wind Waker Ganondorf. That same Ganondorf from OoT had become old, had become knowledgeable, he succumbed to human mistakes in OoT and looked back on it with a new neutral perspective that allowed him to emotionally grow. He learned. Like a human. And if Ganondorf was ever to return again, if he could continue to grow, I feel that there is hope for him.

I’ve analyzed Ganondorf. Down to the bone, I feel. But I do not pity Demise specifically, because Demise wasn’t shunned without reason, he was shunned because other gods could see who he was. Ghirahim was Demise’s before Demise wanted Hylia’s place. Any incarnation of Ganondorf cannot fix how he treated Ghirahim, or how he treated the surface. Just like any birth of a new Zelda cannot erase that Hylia had manipulated Link and trapped him in a cycle to forever fight an enemy that shouldn’t even be his responsibility.

So I still cling to the idea that, by Demise giving up his life as a god, he can achieve what he really wanted. Company. By becoming a person, a better person. I resent Demise and Hylia for their actions, looking past the scenarios that could’ve been different or been better, because of their treatment of other characters. 

In my Au, I was happy to include Ganondorf in Vaati’s life because I want to fill his existence with as many experiences as possible. I don’t care if they’re good or bad, they just need to strike up feelings. Allow growth, allow change. I want to see a person in Ganondorf, desperately.

I think that Ghirahim will not only see Demise in Ganondorf, but feel him, and he will flinch away. 

I think that Ganondorf will apologize.

[oldbutnotyetwise]

Six Decades

   Well here I sit, the night before I turn sixty and enter my seventh decade on this earth.  Sixty years, how is it that 6 hours, 6 days, 6 weeks, six months, or even six years can all seem like an eternity but when I think back over my soon to be sixty years it feels like they have flown by, evaporated before my very eyes.  I’m not sure that I will ever figure out this time thing as it relates to me.  Although my body most certainly feels the sixty years somehow my brain is stuck back in my mid thirties-somewhere, I have to frequently remind my brain how old I am.  Having said that, memory problems now haunt me that may or may not be related to my age.  I also think that the older we get the more precious time becomes, we no longer have what feels like an infinite amount of time left like we did when we were young. Getting to something someday now changes to getting to something while you are still physically able.

   During my life I have had friends die. My first friend to die was Paddy, who was a few years younger than me and died before I hit my teens.  The first person I knew to die of cancer.  I don’t think that my brain could wrap itself around the death of a child, something that has not gotten any easier as I have aged.  All my grandparents are long gone, three of whom I got to know.  My own parents have also passed away.   Many friends and coworkers, some older, some younger have left this earth, leaving behind grieving spouses, children, parents and friends.  I’m not sure why some are forced to exit early while the rest of us are left behind wondering when our number will be called.  I guess that is another one of life’s mysteries that I am not meant to understand.

   When it comes to love, I have won and lost, soared and crashed badly, I have been left, and I have left.  I know for many of my years I was not a good partner, not because I didn’t want to be, but because quite simply, I didn’t know how to be.  Somewhere along the way I realized that I was failing miserably in this area and began trying to learn how to be a better person, lover, partner and friend.  It is something that I expect I will work on for the rest of my life.

   Although I have now retired from my career in Policing, I was one of the very fortunate people who got to earn a living doing their dream job.  It took ten years for me to convince a Police Service to hire me, but once they did I never looked back.  I worked hard and would like to think that I did good work.  In exchange I was treated well for the most part and given many great opportunities that many others never got to have.  I know that I made a difference in some peoples lives, some who went to jail for a long time, and some who I rescued from whatever nightmare they couldn’t rescue themselves from.  I worked very hard at looking after my victims, I had no control over the court system but I could ensure that my victims knew that I cared about them and did everything I could to help them through the justice system.  I inspired some of my peers, and I know for sure that many of my peers inspired me for all sorts of different reasons.  I learned something every single day that I went to work.  I saw the best, and the worst of people.  I was humbled to witness incredible acts of courage, compassion and kindness, not just from coworkers but also from the public that I dealt with.  I was the grim reaper that knocked on hundreds of doors and told loved ones that someone was not coming home.  I was in situations where I quite literally was fighting for my life and didn’t know if I would survive.  I was challenged physically, mentally and emotionally.  It was the best worst career I could ever ask for…… and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.  

   And I was a Dad.  I didn’t learn how to be a Dad from my Dad, or perhaps I did in a strange sort of way.  My Dad came from a time when the father’s job was to go out and earn as much as he could so his family could live comfortably, and my Dad most certainly did his best to do that.  I’m not sure that I ever really knew my Dad, it was only in his last decade or so when I really started to get to know him.  I know that he loved me and that he respected me, but I don’t know in the end if either of us really knew each other.  It wasn’t until my first marriage broke up and I almost lost my daughter Elizabeth that I changed my main focus into being a good Dad.  There was this ongoing threat that my ex was going to move far away and take my daughter with her, but in the end my daughter stayed with me when my ex moved away.  It’s hard to be a good Dad when you just don’t know how, but I worked at it every day, I learned from friends who I admired as parents.  In the end I think I was a good Dad.  I made mistakes, there are things I could have done better, but overall I was there, I was involved and in the end I have been rewarded with this amazing daughter who I know is a good person and who makes me exceptionally proud in a multitude of ways.  And it is important for me to say that we know each other, we have stood by each other through so many life experiences and now we share this parent/friend relationship that I treasure.  

   As I enter my sixties I am incredibly blessed with the love of a truly amazing woman.  It is a stark contrast from ten years earlier when I spent my 50thbirthday alone.  I met Robin in my 51st year, she is the most kind, sweet, gentle soul that I have ever met and she loves me better than I deserve.  We both carry our battle scars from our lives before we met, but we both have this sense of appreciation and gratitude towards each other that I’ve never experienced in a relationship before. Somehow we fit together in a way far better than anyone that I have ever been with before.  Our fingers intertwine seamlessly when we hold hands, our bodies fit together like they were designed for each other, and our arms wrap around each other in such a reassuring way that nothing else matters when we are in each other’s arms.  I will admit that when it comes to first kisses….our’s was the worst I have ever experienced in my life.  It was a tooth jarring poorly executed first kiss that thankfully was not an omen of what was to come.  It was so bad that we had to stop, step back and try again.  We got the second one right and thankfully with much practice, we continue to get it right.  I know that I am with the woman I am meant to be with, it was a long challenging road to find her (and in all honesty she was the one who found me), but I look forward to spending my remaining time on earth with this remarkable woman.  I hope that we never take each other for granted and that we spend our time together always working at making our relationship better.

   In my life I have had some of the most incredible friends, some who have come and gone from my life several times. I will not name any names because there are too many and I would be sure to miss one or two and that would be too big an injustice to bear.  You all know who you are.  I try to be a good friend and in return I am surrounded by some of the best people you could ever hope to meet, some who stood by my side and helped me through some very dark days on my journey to this point.  Next to Robin and Elizabeth, my friends are my greatest treasure.  I think that having a core group of really good friends, who also happen to be really good people is a sign of a life well lived.

     After working in the big city for 31 years I wanted to get out of the city and live in the country.  I had wanted this for a long time but didn’t know if it would ever happen, I certainly couldn’t afford to make it happen in southern Ontario.  Near the end of my career we started to look for Property up north where prices were a little closer to my financial reality.  After searching for two years, almost buying several other properties we found our dream home.  98 acres in the country that we share with an abundance of wildlife. The township of Nipissing where we live has this motto on the big signs it has posted, “Life the way it should be”, and I whole heartedly agree with that.  We live in an old farmhouse that is perfectly imperfect with its unlevel floors, crooked trim and never ending list of ongoing needed repairs.  This is a home with history, people have been born and died in this house.  Back in 1892 someone laid claim to this land and cleared it to start their farm.  We live in the old Barton Farm, a place known to almost everyone around here.  We have met many who have lived here, in one case lived here twice.  We will carry on here and one day we will just be another one of the group of many who have lived here at one time.  More so than any other time in my life, I feel that I am where I am meant to be.  There is not a day that passes where I don’t stop several times and think about just how lucky we are to live here.

   I think that we all want to leave some form of legacy that will remain after we are gone.  So what will my legacy be?  In some ways my legacy will be my daughter Elizabeth who if things unfold as they should, will carry on long after I am gone.  She will make the world a better place just by being in it, and I would like to think that I had a small part in making her who she is. Due to our 13 year age difference I expect that Robin will carry on after I am gone, hopefully part of my legacy will having been the love of her life.  That after I am gone she will think, perhaps even know that her life was better for having me in it for so long.  Part of my legacy will be the lives I touched during my career, both for better and for worse.  It will be the people that I trained who carried on, and perhaps taught others what I had taught them.  My legacy will be my friends, who I stood by during their dark times, trying to ease their burden by offering whatever comfort I could.  Perhaps my legacy will even be the kindness shown to strangers when our paths crossed.  There will be no statues or big tributes when I die, all I can hope is that those left behind will think of me as having been a good person who did his best to leave this world a little better than he found it…..and that is good enough for me.

  ��So let the sixties begin.  I am in a better place than I have been in a very long time and I very much look forward to seeing what this decade will bring. I am grateful to everyone, and everything that has gotten me to this point.  I am without a doubt a very lucky man.  And although my preference is that I hang around this earth for a few more decades, if I was to die today I could turn just before going through that big exit door and say, “It’s been a hell of a ride, it hasn’t been perfect but it has been very good” and I can leave this earth feeling grateful for all the good fortune that I had along the way.

[queen-scribbles]

Steady

For @pillarspromptsweekly fill 71: Celebrate. Only proofread once because I have several other projects on a very rapidly approaching deadline (*cough* Christmas presents *cough*), so hopefully I caught everything. This is set the day after Shallow, but I think you could manage without having read that. 

Emiri was dragged awake long before she was ready by a kaleidoscope of memories--voices, images, emotions--that she didn’t even want. She sat up, breathing hard, and buried her face in her hands while she waited for her heart to slow down.

You’re in Stalwart, she reminded herself. Not... wherever that was. One hand dropped to rub the furs for a tangible reminder. Her past life’s surroundings had been far more austere and dour than the woodsy comfort of the Gréf’s Rest.

Once she had settled, Emiri looked toward the window and scowled. After yesterday, she had been dearly hoping to sleep in. No such luck--the view outside was just starting to lighten, a pale pink glow creeping in one corner of the window. From the look of things, all her friends were still asleep as well.

So, grumbling to herself, Emiri slid out of bed. The Awakened part of her hovered too close to the surface for her to hope she’d actually stay asleep if she tried again. A pity; their adventure in Cayron’s Scar had wrung her out both emotionally and otherwise. More sleep would have been nice. But she had plenty of experience running on less than she needed. Rather then dwell on it, Emiri steadied herself against the wall to pull on her boots and then headed out to talk to Haeferic.

The tavern part of the establishment was far busier than she would have expected, given the early hour. Emiri wove her way between kith until she reached the counter and caught Haeferic’s attention.

“Ah, Watcher, you’re up early!” the dwarf greeted her with a smile.

“Not by choice,” Emiri replied, shrugging gamely. She gestured to the bustling workers. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Winter’s End,” Haeferic said, pausing briefly to direct a man carrying a cask toward the inn’s cellar. “We weren’t figurin’ on havin’ much cause to celebrate this year, what with those Iron Flail bastards practically on our doorstep.” He winked at her. “Impending doom has a way of dampening people’s spirits. But since you chased ‘em off and they ain’t a threat no more, Mayor Tarfos decided it would be good to hold the celebrations like normal. Give folks a chance to blow off steam.”

“Smart man,” Emiri said with a laugh. “So...” She hesitated. “I haven’t been in the Dyrwood long. What all’s involved in Winter’s End?”

“Drinkin’ and eatin’ and rememberin’ those we lost that year mostly.” Haeferic scratched behind his ear. “You should stick around, see for yourself. ‘Course, out here it’s more symbolic than anything. The snow don’t melt here like in other parts, and it sure as shit ain’t gonna warm up any time soon.” He smirked. “Still, any excuse for a three day party party is a good one.”

She smiled at his enthusiasm and shrugged. “We might just do that. Things were more... exciting yesterday than we bargained for, so more time to recover is probably a good idea. And it sounds fun.” It would also give more time for Hiravias’ knee to heal, and for Aloth to warm up before they went traveling through waist-deep snow to get home.

“Oh, it is that, Watcher,” Haeferic laughed. “It is most definitely that. But I imagine y’had another purpose in mind, comin’ out this early in the mornin’?” What can I do for ya?”

“Breakfast.” Emiri said, slightly scattered. “Please. For the six of us, something warm and filling.” She looked him dead in the eye. “The best you’ve got.”

He nodded, clearly getting the message. “When d’you need it?”

“In a couple hours, I guess,” she said, biting her lip. Hopefully her friends wouldn’t be rudely awakened by nightmares and could get a decent bit of sleep.  “Yes, two hours should be good. More or less.”

Haeferic chuckled. “That’ll run you... three hundred fifty pands.”

“Sounds fair,” Emiri nodded. “Add it to my tab?”

“Of course.” He gave a sharp nod. “Need anything else? If not, I need t’ get back to supervisin’ preparations.”

“Nope, go right ahead. I’m sure things are a bit crazy, with it being a last minute decision and all.”

Bobbing his head in both confirmation and gratitude, Haeferic swiveled back to barking directions into the milling crowd of workers. Emiri watched for a minute or two before heading back to her room. She didn’t hear anyone moving around as she approached, and so was very careful to be quiet as she slipped back in. The room was still dark, the fire banked to low embers. A quick glance towards the beds confirmed most of her friends were sleeping.

The one exception was Kana. He sat at the table, positioned so his body blocked the rest of the room from the light of his candle as he rapidly filled the pages of a spare blank book.

“Surprised to see you up,” Emiri commented.

Kana turned and flashed her a toothy smile. “There’s too much to write down. I was afraid I’d forget parts if I waited much longer. We learned so much; about Ondra, Abydon, the Engwithans. Such knowledge is worthy of preservation.”

Emiri nodded as she walked over to sit across from him. “That it is.”

A moment passed, her picking at her bracelets, Kana rolling his pen between thumb and index finger, heedless of the ink it flicked along his sleeve.

He spoke finally, softly, as he set down the pen. “Why do I feel what has you up at this hour is far less benign?”

She sighed, looked at the table instead of him as she answered. “...It’s the dreams again.”

Kana wordlessly reached over and covered her hand with his. His fingers smudged ink against her skin as he gave a gentle squeeze. Emiri’s face warmed and her halo flickered brighter at his silent support.

“I feel I owe you an apology,” Kana said softly. He rolled on before she could protest. “The other day, when I asked about you being a Watcher, I fear I may have been... rather tactless.  I didn’t really understand what was involved. Is it hard on you, hearing the spirits all the time?”

Yes. But she didn’t want to burden him, and definitely didn’t want to ruin a moment that involved Kana holding her hand, so Emiri hunched her shoulders in a not-quite shrug and mumbled, “It can get a little overwhelming.”

Kana cocked his head, eyes narrowing, and squeezed her hand again. “You needn’t soften your words on my account, Emiri, if it ever gets to be too much. We’ll find the means to cure you. You’ve my word on that.”

Alright, the past three minutes alone are worth the lost hours of sleep. Emiri ducked her head. It was a futile gesture, with how her halo glowed. She wasn’t hiding anything. “I... thank you, Kana.” She shifted her hand so she could squeeze back. “I appreciate it, truly. And you weren’t being tactless, you were being curious.” You were being you. “I didn’t mind.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Kana said, giving her another smile, more serious but somehow more honest than the one a few minutes ago. “If I ever do overstep, please tell me.”

Emiri nodded, fully aware there wasn’t much he could do she would consider overstepping. “You, um, you should finish writing. Before everyone wakes up and there are distractions.”

“A sound plan,” Kana agreed. He withdrew his hand, picked up the pen, and returned to his writing, filling page after page with rapid but mostly-legible script.

Emiri dug in her pocket until she came up with enough thread--white, pale blue, dark grey--to start a new bracelet, then settled in to pass the time until the others awoke in companionable silence.

>>><<<

Hiravias was the next one awake, nearly an hour and a half hour later, popping up with a growled curse as he rubbed out a cramp in his leg.” Hound’s teeth, that’s a lousy good morning,” he grumbled. “’Specially since that’s the same one got fucked up yesterday.”

Emiri winced in sympathy. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He shrugged and winked at her. “In fact, you’re the reason more of me didn’t get hit by falling rocks, so you really don’t need to apologize.” He limped over and boosted himself into the very much not orlan-sized chair. “So do we have a plan for food or anything, Watcher?”

Emiri laughed. “I talked to Haeferic when I got up. Food should only be another half hour or so. And I paid for the good stuff, but we’ve seen how that can vary by location, so... we’ll see.”

Hiravias grinned and ruffled one hand through his hair, somehow leaving it a worse mess than it had been previously. “Sounds good. I guess I can hold out that long. And you know I’ll eat anything, but ‘good stuff’ does sound appealing today.”

The food did indeed arrive as predicted, and smelled so good it dragged the other three out of bad, though Aloth and Pallegina didn’t look truly awake until halfway through their first cup of tea.

Haeferic hadn’t been kidding when he promised her the best he had. Emiri wondered if anyone else in Stalwart--including the mayor--was eating this well. But it was good to have a meal that was actually satisfying and filling and made her feel warm inside after so long trekking all over the White March eating jerky. It was even better sharing it with her friends(who were all still here, despite Ondra’s best efforts).

“So, what’s the plan? Miri?” Edér asked once they’d all eaten their fil.

“I know stopping Thaos is important,” she began, playing with the bracelet she’d made. “But I feel like another day or two to rest would be good. For some of us” --she nudged Aloth’s knee under the table and shot Hiravias a meaningful look--”more than others.”

“I like this plan,” Hiravias chipped in. “But what’re we supposed to do while we’re here?”

“I did mention rest,” Emiri emphasized, looking him dead in the eye. “Which is probably an especially good idea with that knee of yours, before we go tromping down a mountain through waist-deep snow.”

“I see your point,” he said, idly snapping the strap to his eyepatch. “Anything to avoid more piggyback rides. But what if the thought of being stuck in here makes me itchy and I want to take it easy somewhere else? Does this... charming place have anything interesting to offer?”

“Funny you should ask that,” she said, laughing. “They are getting ready to start some festival...”

“Winter’s End!” Edér interrupted with a grin. “I’ll be damned, how’d I forget about that?”

“We have been roaming all over the frigid mountainside for the last several days, ac?” Pallegina pointed out. “I believe you can be forgiven for losing track of the date.”

“Right kind of you,” Edér shot back, slouching more comfortably in his chair. “But really, there ain’t no party in the Dyrwood like Winter’s End. It’ll be fun, even if they are throwin’ it together all last-minute.”

With that ringing endorsement from a local(or local-adjacent), the plan was all but settled. Emiri did notice, however, that Aloth seemed less enthused than the others. That was hardly surprising.

She leaned close and murmured, “I know how you are about big, loud parties. Feel free to stay here with a book or something if you’d rather.”

He half-smiled and twisted one of his rings, something like relief glimmering in his eyes. “That was my plan, yes. I may join you later, though.”

Emiri laughed. “I was about to say the same thing. You know how I am about big, loud parties.”

Aloth nodded. “I do indeed.”

Still, she was curious. And if the Dyrwood was to be her home, as she planned, it would be smart to familiarize herself with the customs. So she’d go for a while, have fun and relax, but there was a safe have she could retreat to if it became too much.

>>><<<

Even with the early start to the preparations, it took a few hours for word to spread and the people of Stalwart to turn out for the festivities. Once they did, however, the atmosphere picked up quickly. There was a lot for them to celebrate, after all. And the amount of alcohol present helped. Edér hadn’t been exaggerating when he said there wasn’t any party like it in the Dyrwood.

Emiri enjoyed herself quite a bit, even if she only sampled most of the food and nursed a single drink--wyrthoneg, Edér had called it, saying it was perfect for someone who didn’t drink much. She appreciated his looking out for her, but even the watered down mead had enough alcohol in it to make her go slow. She was just finishing her first round as Hiravias and Edér plunked down with their third.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Emiri teased.

“Absolutely,” they chorused.

“Anything like the ones you’re used to?” she asked Edér, reaching for another piece of the savory pie Keydy had plunked down in front of them with a wink.

Edér considered for a moment. “Not quite as loud as the ones we use’ta have in Gilded Vale, but maybe that’s just ‘cause me an’ Woden use’ta see which of us could whoop louder, which usually spread to everybody our age.”

She rolled her eyes and bumped his shoulder. “Why am I not surprised?” He just laughed and shrugged, so she turned to Hiravias. “Do you have any celebrations like this in your tribe?”

He snorted and downed half his drink in one go. “Course. We usually wait until the first sign of thaw to do the real celebrating, but there is a pretty big feast to mark the beginning of winter.” His gave drifted to something over her shoulder and he grinned. “’Bout time. You get bored?”

Emiri twisted around just in time to see Aloth half-shrug in answer. She broke into an ear to ear grin and scooted closer to Pallegina to make room on the bench. “Ignore him. Though I am glad you decided to join us.”

Aloth nodded, playing with the sleeve of his sweater. “I figured a little while wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad,” Emiri said. She narrowed her eyes when she saw him shiver. “Are you still cold?”

“Perhaps a little,” he admitted, “though I’m sure that has more to do with being outside in a village halfway up a snow covered mountain than it does-”

“Almost drowning in an icy lake?” Emiri finished for him.

“I’m fine, Emiri,” Aloth said, smiling as he accepted the mug Pallegina nudged in his direction. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary. There are no lingering ill effects from yesterday, I promise.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” she murmured, lightly bumping her shoulder against his.

His smile widened, and he leaned in to the brief touch. “I’m sure.” His gaze flicked between the members of their group as he took a drink. “I see we’ve lost Kana.”

Emiri giggled. “No, he wanted to talk to people, learn more about their local traditions and how they maybe differ from say, Gilded Vale.” She winked at Edér. “You know, being Kana. He’s right over-” She turned to point toward where she’d last seen him, but he was gone. “Well, he was there,” she muttered, raising her voice instinctively to be heard over the swelling music. “Maybe I have lost him.”

As if summoned by her sheepish admission, Kana swept toward them out of the milling crowd of locals. “How goes it, my friends?” he greeted them, grinning ear to ear. “I trust you’re enjoying yourselves as much as I am?”

“Absolutely,” Emiri confirmed, her heart skipping a beat. He looked so happy it made her grin even wider. “Hearing good stories?”

He nodded. “The kith up here have certainly found ways to make this celebration their own. They fully embrace all the important parts, but put their own twist on the traditions and even added a couple. It’s fascinating to learn about.”

“I’ll bet it is,” she said with a laugh. “I’d ask you to stay and regale me, but Aloth got the last seat, and it doesn’t seem fair to make you stand.”

“Oh, no worries,” Kana laughed, eyes dancing with mirth. “I’ve no need of a seat. I just wanted to see how all of you were faring, and rid myself of this” --he set his empty tankard on the table with a thump-- “before asking you a question.”

“Me?” Emiri raised an eyebrow and her halo pulsed brighter.

He nodded and held out one hand. “Dance with me?”

Her mouth was suddenly very dry. “I...”

Kana smiled encouragingly. “I think it would be fun, in the spirit of things. And I know the songs are unfamiliar, but this one at least sounds close enough to a sarabande I’m sure you’ll manage with no trouble.”

“B’sides, ev’ryone’s drunk an’ won’t care if you fuck up,” Hiravias chipped in helpfully.

Maybe it was his encouragement, or the festive atmosphere, or even the small amount of alcohol she’d consumed. Or maybe something else, deep inside her, didn’t see a problem with throwing caution to the wind just this once. Whatever the reason, it did sound fun.

“Alright,” Emiri nodded, grinning as she took Kana’s hand and let him help her up. She heard Edér and Hiravias whoop as she and Kana skirted the table to join the other dancing couples.

“Just have fun,” Kana whispered as they set palm to palm and fell in step with the dance. “There’s no call to impress anyone this time, and no one who will care if you miss a step.”

Hearing the reassurance helped, as did Kana’s steady and exuberant presence, and Emiri relaxed enough to lose herself in the flow of the music. Kana had been right; there were a few extra steps, and the tempo was much faster--not to mention the different instruments--but this song was just a variation on the sarabande. She may have flubbed the new steps, but it was exceedingly fun. And gods knew she needed fun after yesterday.

The dance finished far sooner than she expected or wanted, and Emiri huffed out a sigh.

Kana chuckled at the reaction and didn’t let go of her hand. “Want to dance another?”

Emiri nodded, grinning wide around her breathless, “Yes, please.”

The next dance was unfamiliar to them both, and they messed up every few steps, but she didn’t care. Neither did anyone else. They offered encouragement and pointers, but the holiday was for fun, so enjoying yourself was the only requirement. And Emiri certainly met that. All told, she and Kana danced to five songs--with varying degrees of skill, but steadily increasing enjoyment--before they dropped, breathless and laughing, into seats near the rest of their friends.

Edér pushed drinks toward them with a grin. “Looks like you two could use this.”

Emiri nodded as she took a hard swallow and shot him a grateful smile. More wyrthoneg. She wasn’t much for alcohol, but this was sweet enough--mild enough--she enjoyed it.

The warm glow from dancing held steady in her chest through the next couple hours of conversation with both her friends and Stalwart’s people, overwhelming enough Emiri wondered if it was visible to everyone.

The answer proved a resounding yes when Edér grinned and pointed out, “You look like you’re tryin’ to outshine the stars, Miri.”

She grinned back and shrugged, gesturing toward her halo. “It gets brighter when I’m happy.”

“Good,” Aloth chipped in with a smile of his own. “You deserve it.”

Emiri shot him another smile. “We all do.”

“Well, this is the place for it,” Hiravias said, holding up his fourth--fifth?--drink in a toast of sorts. “They sure know how to throw a party, I’ll give ‘em that.”

“Right generous of you,” Edér laughed. 

“I’m in a charitable mood,” Hiravias shot back, grinning and bobbling the drink in wordless explanation. “Don’t expect it to last.”

The evening rolled on amid similar banter, punctuated by various locals seeking out the Watcher to thank her for keeping them from having more people to remember this Winter’s End. She chatted with Thyrsc and Suldrun, gave Mylla the bracelet she’d made before breakfast, and waved off Mayor Tarfos when he tried to offer her a reward for chasing away the Iron Flail. By the time they all turned in for the night, Emiri was almost as tired as she’d been the previous day, just for a much better reason.

She smiled into her pillow as she settled in to bed. It had to be her imagination, but she’d swear her hand still felt warm from holding Kana’s. I definitely like Winter’s End, she thought drowsily, before drifting off to significantly more pleasant dreams.

[maidenoftheforestlight-blog]

Do you think there's an actual possibility for Sansa and Sandor to love each other? I mean, Sandor often expresses his feelings in some ways... but Sansa...will she ever love him? Where love means...LOVE. Or will she be content with someone who loves her (sandor)?

Well, I think both Sansa and Sandor were too immature (in different ways, but mutually emotionally and psychologically) to be really ready love another person in a romantic sense, with all that entails. That said, I truly believe that by the time Sandor leaves during the BOBW and goes to Sansa’s room, he is already in love with her. Is he able to comprehend that himself and deal with it in any kind of reasonable, mature way? Nope. But hopefully his time at the QI will have leveled up his emotional maturity and afforded him some mental clarity enough for him to come to grips with his feelings.

As for Sansa, I can’t say that she’s actually in love with Sandor yet. Her feelings for him are very complicated; which makes a lot of sense considering both her age and her status as a prisoner in the Red Keep through most of the time they knew each other… not to mention the fact then he then leaves and she has only memories of him (both real and imagined) to draw from in the development of her feelings. That said, from the time that Sandor confided in her the truth about his scars, she has cared about him. From that point, she, unlike everyone else, has been able to see beneath the mask of the Hound to the scared little boy inside. She comes to trust him and see him as a protector and adviser of sorts. She prays for his redemption because she can see the good in him and wants him to be saved from his own rage. 

After he leaves, her feelings for him begin to develop in interesting, mostly subconscious ways.  This is because of the fact that as Sansa goes into her teenaged years her hormones are starting to affect her sexuality and she is no longer thinking of romance as a chaste, pure, innocent thing, but understands that there is an aspect of desire and passion and sexuality involved. A few experiences contribute to this growing understanding of sex, pretty much all of them unpleasant if not downright traumatic; the rape of Lollys and the fact that Sansa barely escapes the same fate, the constant threat that is Joffrey, Sansa’s wedding night with Tyrion, Marillion’s sexual harassment and, again, the threat of rape, the general skeeviness of Petyr Baelish… and most relevant to her feelings towards Sandor, the night of the Blackwater when the man in question made her sing at knife point and then left her with nothing but a bloody cloak. 

The fact that Sansa remembers it as such (that he leaves her with nothing but the bloody cloak) is important when we consider that she somehow begins to remember him also kissing her. It has been suggested by many people that the invention of the Unkiss is Sansa’s way of “taking back” some agency over her sexuality, over her body. She has essentially invented her first sexual (or rather sensual/erotic) experience and this is incredibly important when we consider how much is later forced upon her (forced kisses and touches abound). Sansa also, in fact originally, uses this kiss as something of a badge of honour that elevates her in maturity over other young girls like Margaery’s cousins and later as something that allows her to speak with any authority on the subject of sex with an older girl, Myranda. So we can see that the fantasy of the Unkiss is an empowering one for Sansa and the fact that she invents it, specifically using Sandor as the subject, suggests that by the time of the BOBW there was already a reciprocated, though definitely subconscious, attraction there. 

Therefore, the fact that Sansa seems to huff over him just leaving the cloak, indicates some frustration, some desire (in hindsight), that something more had happened between them that night…. hence the fantasy of the kiss and the musing on it when issues of sex and desire come up. Of course, Sansa was not actually ready for the real undercurrent of what was going on that night; she was too young and innocent to even understand it. However, after her experiences with Tyrion and later Marillion, she does come to understand that there was more than a kiss that could have happened that night. It was actually recently mentioned to me by @redxhairedxqueen that in the same chapter (Sansa VI) that Sansa muses that no one will ever marry her for love, the same chapter she is accosted by the singer Marillion and rescued by Lothor Brune (and for a moment thinks he is Sandor), she dreams of Sandor replacing Tyrion in her marriage bed, and hears his voice repeating, “I’ll have a song from you”. So, her subconscious put the innuendo together for her there (song= sex/female orgasm)… Yet Sandor still comes out as a figure of desire and protection… interesting that. 

So I think we can safely say that as Sansa gets older, Sandor is emerging more and more as a sort of “sexual fantasy” for her. That is to say, she is beginning to desire him, and/or what he represents to her, in more adult ways. This desire, together with the fact that Sansa actually really cares about Sandor as a human being and wants him to do better in life, strongly suggests to me that… YES, without a doubt, it is not only possible that Sansa will end up falling in love with Sandor when they meet again, but also very likely that she will, just based on her thoughts about him already. We’re already working with genuine care and genuine attraction, we just need the next ingredient of actual physical proximity to start cooking with fire. 

[kandace-roo-blog]

Walt Task #4 || The Ins and Outs of Kandace Roo

Describe your character; How do you see your character in your own eyes and not based off the bio. How have you developed this character into your own?

Ohhhh, Kandace. This is my first time playing a teen/single mom, and so far it’s been such an interesting experience to play around with how that affects her characterization. She’s one of those people that deflects so much on other people in order to keep from addressing all of the issues that she hasn’t quite worked out herself yet thanks to all of her family drama and being abandoned by Joey’s dad. It’s just easier for her to focus on trying to fix or help other people and make them feel good because in some weird way, it makes her feel like she’s doing at least something right. Behind that outward appearance of caring, however, she’s drowning. She’s depressed and hard on herself and so, so incredibly broken over feeling like her life has just fallen apart, and she honestly breaks my heart sometimes because she just sees herself as damaged and broken beyond repair. There’s literally only two bright spots in her life, and that’s her friends from home and of course, her son. More on her friends later, but focusing on Joey... man, she loves that kid. It’s hard for her to imagine now that she was willing to go along with what her mother wanted and give the kid up, but as soon as she looked into his big, blue eyes, she just knew he was the most important thing she’d ever have in her life and she’d never abandon him like others had abandoned her. In a way, she wanted to be the mom that her own mother had never been for her, and being there for him is basically the only thing that gets her up in the morning and forces her through her day.

What’s your favorite thing about your character? what’s your least favorite?

Kandace just has this amazing empathy to her that I absolutely adore. She’s selfless in a way that’s not always healthy but warms my heart a little bit because she’s the type of person that is always looking to care for others. It’s what makes her such a good friend and such a good mom and even though she’s incredibly heartbroken and hurt, that trait still remains.

As for my least favorite, it’s definitely how hard she is on herself. I’m not talking about just a regular self-confidence issue - I’m talking about this constant narrative in her head of everything she’s failing at. Whether it’s that she’s a bad mother and isn’t doing enough for her son, that she’s unlovable and doesn’t deserve to be happy with someone else, or that she isn’t living up to what she could be, she’s constantly doubting and hating herself and it breaks my heart.

What are some of your favorite relationships your character has formed? (Friendships, relationships, yada ya)

Ok, so first of all, Eeyore??? They warm my heart so much because they were more like acquaintances made through mutual friends back home but now they’re the only two in LA and have started becoming actual friends and I’m emotional about it tbh because what the HELL. Kanga just wants to make her just a little bit happier because she can relate all to well to how she feels and I just think in general they relate so well to each other and I can’t wait to see that friendship progress, tbh.

Even though the rest of the Hundred Acre Woods gang isn’t here yet, I also need to give them a shout-out because all of those friendships make me emotional in general. Like lil Paxton was the one who made her decide that she could handle being a mom in the first place and Tiago is just that big ball of pure joy that she honestly needs in her life to force her to smile and loosen up for once of her life. AND CHRISTOPHER ROBIN DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW BADLY I WANT HIM IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW. They’ve literally been friends through preschool and are still best friends to this day and are the most supportive little beans and he is one of the only people Kanga trusts with her whole life and LISTEN I WILL BRIBE SOMEONE TO BRING HIM TO ME BECAUSE I NEED IT OK

Kanga and Oliver kill me tbh because they relate so much in terms of parenthood and it’s so rare to find someone as a seventeen-eighteen year old mom who you can talk to about the pitfalls of being a parent and I just love them??? I can’t wait for them to have play dates and blab about all the problems they’re having in raising children!

This is probably less important because he’s a NPC but Danny (aka Joey’s dad) and Kanga make me sad af and I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately?? Like Kandace was looking to be a lil rebellious and ended up with this bad boy who had a reputation as a heartbreaker and honestly fell in love with him?? Yes, it was probably an unhealthy relationship by many standards and he kind of pushed her to do things that she typically wouldn’t do for multiple reasons but at the end of the day she just adored him and he might have loved her too and then Joey happened and she honestly thought that he’d be willing to settle down and raise a family with her and it just ??? didn’t happen ??? And he told her he didn’t love her and made her feel basically completely used and damaged and terrified of love and DAMN IT SOMEONE TEACH THIS GIRL THAT LOVE DOESN’T ALWAYS MEAN HEARTBREAK WTF

AS FOR NEXT GEN Joey is so #blessed to have so many sweethearts in his life tbh. Like the Addison kids???? They’re practically like his siblings at this point and you best believe he’ll 100% always be there for each and every one of them. Also Noelle??? I’m still loling over the concept that they went on a tinder date and just ended up becoming pals instead because it’s such a Roo thing to do tbh and their friendship jut makes me so happy ok? ok.

Has your character changed you in any way? Or do you yourself in yourself in your character?

I would also say that Kandace has been a good outlet for me because I also deal with a lot of self doubt and a healthy dose of clinical depression to boot. I try not to dwell too much on it because it can bring my mood down a bit too, but it’s also been super nice to verbalize feelings and thoughts through her eyes and has been kind of cathartic for me and has definitely helped me work through some heavy stuff in my life. I love my lil fragile baby too much.

Do you think your character has had a big impact on Walt? Is it a good impact or bad?

I don’t think she’s had a big impact, but hopefully a good one! I really want to expand on her some more and get some more plots going for her tbh because I’ve had so much muse for her as of late and really want to see that impact!

Favorite thing your character has done and worst

Favorite thing? Tbh, it’s definitely her decision to keep Joey. Writing that scene for my app honestly put me through tears because she was so determined not to keep him and not to get attached and she just looked at him and knew. And from there, she was determined to do the exact opposite and not let him go even if that meant losing the rest of her family and having to do it all on her own.

I can’t think of anything really awful she’s done so far, but I do think that the fact that she’s isolated herself so much in general is not a good move. She honestly feels like people are going to get annoyed with the fact that she’s constantly dealing with her kid and just doesn’t want to face it, and I really wish she’d push out of her shell a little bit and put herself out there again because she has so much to offer.

What is some progress you hope to have with your character in the future?

Obviously I want to see her grow emotionally. I want her to face her depression head-on and take steps to treat it, especially by going through some therapy. Girl needs to VENT. I obviously want to see Joey grow up and play out those struggles as a mother and how she handles them. Finally, I’d honestly really like to see her heal all those scars on her heart from what happened and feel less unlovable? Because she’s really honestly worthy of being loved and once she realizes that, she has the potential of maybe actually being happy and doing something for herself instead of for others.

What is one thing you would tell your character?

YOU’RE DOING GREAT, SWEETIE, KEEP YOUR HEAD UP.

What has been YOUR favorite thing about walt?

Has your experience been a positive one? (BE HONEST YO.)

Got a favorite memory? Share it!

What are you looking forward too in the future?

Have you had a favorite event? Favorite plot? Share it right here

(skipping these bc i’ve already answered them on Rora’s!)

Favorite character that’s not your own and why

Ok so here I’d like to give a shoutout to both @justeeyore and @whydidyoutakemeaway because they are??? the sweetest???? Alicia, you know I absolutely love all of your characters and Eeyore is no exception. I think you play that morose nature so well without crossing that fine line between being actually upset and being whiny and Eeyore honestly breaks my heart all the freaking time and ??? i love her so much ok

and KAITLYN again, u know i love you and all your characters but I felt it was fitting to give some kudos to Oliver considering his friendship with Kandace. You play Oliver so beautifully both in his relationship with Wally and his characterization in general. You always have so many interesting ideas and twists and turns for him in mind and whether he’s freaking out or being goofy or everything in between, he’s always such a fun character to see on the dash and I love him so, so much.

Ideas, shoutouts, request, dedications, questions? Put ‘em here!

I love all of you!!! ( and I’m too lazy to type it all out again but u know how it is guys ok)

[lynchgirl90]

#TwinPeaks @Vulture: @eamonfarren on embodying evil, Richard’s motivations, & what it’s like to shoot such violent scenes

Eamon Farren On Playing Twin Peaks’ Embodiment of Evil and What Makes Him Such a Lynchian Villain 

By Devon Ivie

When Richard Horne first made his way onto the screen in Twin Peaks: The Return, he seemed like one cool cat who could easily pick up a beautiful lady or two at the Bang Bang Bar. The cigarette! The indifferent stare! Those beautifully sculptured cheekbones! Swoon. But in typical Lynchian fashion, Richard went from alluring to troubling in the blink of the eye — he chokes a young woman vying for his attention at the bar, and in subsequent episodes, reveals even more violent, Frank Boothian urges that include running over a boy with his car while drugged out, seemingly killing the woman who witnessed him do it, and then attacking and robbing his grandmother in perhaps the most disturbing Peaks scene in recent memory. (Hello Johnny, how are you today…hello Johnny, how are you today…)

Despite this nightmarish on-screen portrayal, Vulture decided to call up Australian actor Eamon Farren — who, thank goodness for this writer, is a very amiable and polite young man — to discuss embodying evil, Richard’s motivations, and what it’s like to shoot such violent scenes.

Hey, Eamon. I’m emotionally scarred by episode ten but excited to talk to you nonetheless. Hi, Devon. [Laughs.] How cool. Thanks, me too.

How does it feel being so feared of by the entire Twin Peakscommunity?

I think it’s pretty cool and it’s a bit of an honor. I had a feeling when we were making this thing that this would hopefully be the reaction that we got, and I think Lynch and I have achieved what we wanted to so far.

Before we dissect your character a little bit, can you tell me how you became involved with the show? Did you have a previous relationship with David?

I was doing a play in Australia called The Present, which I did with Cate Blanchett on Broadway early last year. We were in Sydney for the first run. We were almost at the end of our season and it was a Wednesday between shows. I got a message on my phone from my agent telling me to call her immediately. When I called her, she sounded a little bit confused, but said she got a message from Lynch’s camp to ask if I was available and interested, and if so, there was a part for me in Twin Peaks. It was a pretty cool call to get! I said yes straight away, obviously. As for a previous relationship, I’d done a movie with his daughter, Jennifer Lynch, a few years ago called Chained with Vincent D’Onofrio. I never asked him, but I’m assuming he saw that film and kept me in his mind.

So you didn’t have to audition at all? That’s nice.

Just the call. It was one of the most bizarre and wonderful happenstances in my life. Every now and then hopefully something like that happens in people’s careers and I was really, really happy to get that call.

Did David give you any indication as to who you’d be playing before you came to the States?

I got nothing, in true Lynch form, which is what I love. I had a very quick phone call with him. He called me at home in Australia on a Sunday a week before I left to come. He asked if I had any questions and I said, Yeah, I have a bunch of questions, can I ask who I’m playing? He said, No buddy, not really. Come over here and come into this cool forest and make a cool thing with cool people. So that’s all I had. I jumped on a plane the morning after we closed The Present and I arrived in Seattle and started shooting. With the whole thing, because we only get scenes only on the day of, I threw myself into it not really knowing anything. That was a really cool way to work — I turned up. I had brief chats with Lynch about little things not really to do with the character, it was more about each other and sharing a laugh. I got a sense of Richard from the writing. It’s all on the page, really. That’s the great thing about Lynch. The writing is so particular. I didn’t have a lot of go on except in the moment on the day, and that was a really great experience, to throw yourself in and find yourself in the moment. We usually only did one or two takes for each scene. If there’s anyone you’re going to trust in the world, it’s going to be David Lynch.

When you finally found out how violent and inherently evil your character was, did it give you pause as to whether you wanted to be the face of pure Lynchian horror? Especially since Richard has mostly been violent towards women so far?

I recognize the violence towards women especially and his actions … it didn’t give me pause, but I was aware of the actions and what was being put into the world. But I was all-in with this project and this character simply because I think to be part of this Twin Peaks family and legacy is such a privilege. But also there’s something that Lynch does that creates character, tension, and circumstance that’s valid and necessary for the story. Obviously the scenes and the actions that Richard does that we’ve seen already in the show are brutal and horrible, but I feel like to show that in its full, for want of a better word, glory — ironically, glory — is really important because that sets off what needs to be set off in the story. So, no pause from me. I just wanted to do the best job I could to represent that kind of person and that kind of action truthfully, so we can hate his actions and even, if you want, hate him as much as you should.

What would you say is the prime motivator for Richard’s disturbing behavior? It seemed after the scene you shared with Balthazar Getty’s drug dealer in a previous episode, Richard was sent off by being called a “kid” in particular.

There’s a lot that motivates his character. Lynch and I talked a bit about that, and Lynch also trusted me with making my own decisions about where it came from. He didn’t share specifically where he thought it came from, and that was a fun bit as well — because it adds to that horror to viewers. We shouldn’t know where exactly this stuff comes from. We’re just presented with this full person in trauma or rage or hurt or all of the above, or maybe just pure, bad evil. I know exactly where I think it comes from, but I think it’s important to keep it to myself, specifically because Lynch would want it that way, but also because it gives the chance for every single person who encounters Richard to wonder and have their own version of what they’re seeing. It’s truly more scary to not really know where it comes from specifically. That’s what adds to the horror to Richard. 

Do you see him as a competent villain, or rather one that’s plagued by impulses and rash decisions? How do you read him?

He has to be someone that is impulsive and rash and full of rage and full of trauma, whether that be his own trauma or other people’s trauma, whatever it is. Therefore, the impulses and the rash decisions make him very unpredictable. That’s where his terrifying elements come from — he’s so unpredictable and no one could be safe in the presence of this guy. I don’t even know if he has knowledge of where he could go next or what he could do next. That’s truly horrific. If we ever encounter people who give us fear in our life, the unpredictability is what strikes the fear. Understanding and knowledge of some other person gives you some comfort or at least some other understanding of where they’re coming from. That’s what’s great about what Lynch did for me. He didn’t give me the time as an actor to try and figure out a very specific and acknowledged backstory or reasons why. The “why” isn’t really the important question, it’s “what” and “how” and “where” he’s going to go to next. That’s what makes him a Lynchian villain 

For scenes where violence is depicted onscreen — like Richard choking his grandmother and another girl at a bar — as opposed to offscreen where we can use our imagination, what direction does David give you when you’re filming? Are your mannerisms very carefully laid out ahead of time, or are you given range to experiment with something in the moment to get more fearful reactions?

  Lynch lays it out in the script. Almost everything that we see is in the script, as far as the physical actions. There were a few things that I threw up to David that he either really ran with or didn’t. As I said, we usually do only one or two takes, so I felt the trust from him to know that we could explore what was within the page. I also really respected that if it didn’t work, we would make adjustments. Physically, what Lynch did with Richard was to show you just enough violence to really hit home that this was a physical threat, but then pepper it with off-screen stuff to really keep the imagination alive as well. With those two in tandem, it’s more terrifying than your average villain that you meet in the world. We can see his physical threat sometimes, and then we’re left to our imagination with others. That’s how Lynch creates true terror — we have enough to go by that we recognize, but we also then have the space to imbue him with the horrors that we can find within ourselves or our imaginations.

How do get into the mindset for when you film particularly unpleasant scenes?

My own preparation for the day is to search for the truthfulness in that moment, and the physical violence has to ring true. I have to lean into that and go there. But the most important thing is that I got to work with some incredible actresses opposite me. Trust is a big thing on set when you have those moments. Everyone that was working on those scenes, either with a violent moment or any other moment, everyone wanted to be there and wanted to tell the story. I was very lucky to have worked with women who really trusted me and I trusted them. They gave as much as they could in that performance and gave me the permission. And then Lynch gave us the permission to lean into those moments. It’s essential to be ready yourself, but you can’t do it unless you’re working with very confident and trusting actors.

For the grandmother scene in particular in episode ten, obviously that was a pretty intense and physical moment. Lynch was warning us to portray that in a way that was truthful and scary, and I was amazed at the crew and the actors in the scene to give each other permission to do it. To be safe always, but to go there. That’s what makes the magic in those scenes.

After you film those scenes, do you feel emotionally drained?

I hope I never brush those moments off, because they’re moments … if you lean into them and if you find the truth in them, it would be horrible to be able to brush them off. As an actor, I never like to carry anything with me. It’s my job to lean in and tell the truth and find those moments. The great thing about the set, too, is that the mood was always jovial but committed. It was very easy to enjoy the making of it as opposed to getting lost in any unnecessary character hangovers. I like work as an actor where the work is very important, but it’s also very important to realize, as Lynch said to me, that we’re working on a cool thing. You should never forget that. The work can only be elevated when everyone enjoys what they do and enjoys each other. And David made sure to set that all up.

After that grandmother scene in particular, I was so emotionally drained that I immediately texted my grandma and was like, “Hey Mimi, just checking in to say hi…”

Yeah, I think there’s something definitely wrong with you if you watch that scene and you don’t want to call your grandma. [Laughs.] It’s terrifying and horrific. I would be quite worried about you, Devon, if you felt any different. My grandparents have already passed away, so I felt a little but able to not have that moment afterwards. But if my grandma was still alive, I’d pay the international toll to make sure she was okay.

What do you make of the theory that Richard is the child of Audrey and Evil Cooper?

I would never make any assumptions, Devon. Ever. [Laughs.]

What have you found most enjoyable throughout your newbieTwin Peaks experience?

When I walked on that set, what was really amazing for an actor, especially a young actor, to walk into was the family that Lynch carries through and had carried through his whole career. That crew that was working on that show was all extremely talented and had mostly worked with Lynch for 30 or more years. There was a real understanding between every single member of that crew about how he works, and they all want to be there because they love working with Lynch. It was lovely to walk on set and meet all of those people and immediately feel like you’re part of that legacy, which is a generous thing to encounter as an actor on an established crew. But to meet Lynch, who I had been a massive fan of his work for my entire life, was incredible. People like to say don’t meet your heroes, but for me, this is one time when I was more than happy to meet my hero. He was generous and funny and smart and taught me a lot. He gave me an opportunity that expanded myself not as an actor, but as a person in the world. Everything we shot I was always amazed at how innovative and simple at the same time some things can be. The camera techniques that give you that visceral feel of what it’s like to watch a Lynch project. The effects and the way that they shoot stuff feels like a throwback to old filmmaking. That’s what he’s done with this show — it feels nostalgic and feels ahead of us.

People can’t tell this from our conversation, but you’re Australian and have a lovely accent. Did you model your accent for Richard after anyone or anything in particular?

I didn’t model Richard’s voice off anyone in particular. As an actor, I like to be specific with accent work, and this may sound like a cop-out answer, but when I read his words on the script it came naturally. Richard has a lilting quality to the way he speaks. He wasn’t so much of an American accent, but it was the tone of his voice that I wanted to work out. Coupled with the way he speaks and coupled with what he does, I think that conversation of duality is fun to play with.

What’s the hardest word to say in an American accent?

I can’t speak for every Australian actor, but I think the hardest thing to remember about the American accent is the “r” sound. You have to lean into the “r”s, but then sometimes you get caught up in leaning too much into “r”s and you sound like a Jamaican guy hybrid. [Laughs.] It’s the “r”s that you need to watch out for.

Link (TP)

[rosy1520]

Save Myself. (Series) Reader

Summary : You have been with the Avengers for two years now. Change happens. But when it causes you to relive memories and experience them all over again, will you want to end it or will you want to keep trying?

Warnings: swearing, depression, self harm

Pairings : All Avengers and Reader

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

(Flashback) - "Hey Steve, lets go to that burger place I've been dying to go for weeks!" Says y/n. Sitting on the island happily hoping for him to agree to his best friend . Steve turns around from the sink and looks at y/n. He gives her a sad smile with a faltering frown. "I'm really sorry y/n.... I have to go do a couple of errands with Sam. I am really sorry. Maybe can we reschedule?" he says in all hopefulness.

You stare at him with that fake smile ever since he has been blowing you off. You don't mind that he is spending time with others, its just the fact that it has been happening often for the past year. As if they don't seem to notice you anymore. Also due to the fact that since you seem to have that empathetic aura around you they thinks its okay. Now you just want to give up.

You give a fake belivable smile that he will fall for and say softly, "Its okay Steve, I'lll reschedule it. Go have fun with Sam now its fine.

(End of Flashback)

 "Sorry my ass" you say. You look at the time. 12:35 PM. You puf out a breathy laugh. Downing your last sip of scotch thast you have stoilen from Tony just hours earlier. You're sitting infront of mirror, back against the bed, butt on the sleek wooden floor. Downing all of you sorrows, you painful heartache, and just coping with all the bullshit excuses just to avoid you. It's funny how you save them from all their demons and whe ion return, you just don't seem to receive any. Ridiculous right? Finishing the scotch, you cap it and hide it with all the other alcohol you have been stashing for last 7 months that has been in your closet. You thought of throwing them away but you just keep then in there just look at how much "coping" you have done.

Replaying the same song over and over again that never seems to cease the thoughts that has been whirlwind on you.

"They gave me the heartache, and in return I gave a song, and it goes, oooonnnn and onn and onn" you sing quietly as you begin your quiet breakdown.

"Life can get you down so I just numb the way it feels, I drown it with a drink and out of date prescriptions. All the ones that love me, they just left me one the shelf... farewell.." you sing brokenly with all the memories coming back to you.

 You begin to grab another bottle of scotch and open it and harshly downing it. Minding the burn it gives your throat, you place it next you and look up teary-eyed with massive bags and dark circles under your eyes, the headache you get oncwe I a while, you once healthy body tuering into either compulsive drinking or just nothing at all. Falling into depression. Hiding the newly recent scars that are now developing.

"Fridayyy....." you say, being overly tipsy.

"Yes Ms. l/n ?" her monotone voice giving off a hint of pity and concern.

"Can you put on Stop and Stare please?" you say quietly

"Yes Miss...... Are you alright today?" She says

You smile slightly. At least she has a care for you in this building. Unlike others.

"Thanks for caring FRIDAY.. I appreaciate you."

"No problem Miss. Also, would you like to right in your journal today?" 

You thought about what she said. Maybe you could, maybe you wouldn't. I mean, you have stacks of notebooks dating back from the end of middle school to the end of highschool, up until now. All filled with pages of people who you thought were your fr4iendsa but just using you for 5thewor advantage. Damaging you physically, mentally and emotionally.

During college, you had no issued beucase you deciede not to even have a friend, Yeah there were acquaitances but never fully. You did not want really get close anymore. But that changed when you came here to joij the team after becoming a newly SHIELD agent. You were hestitant at forst but you wa4rmed up to them. Your family. But now?, its like you fell back in highschool all over again.

"yes FRIDAY." You say, beginning to were what happened with Steve.

After done talking, you took something out from under you bed and pulled out a full bottle of out of date prescription pills. For you, to relieve the pain inside you hurting body. You begin to open the bottle and take out a handful of pills. As you are about to take them with your scotch, FRIDAY speaks up.

"Miss are you sure on taking an over amount of prescriptive pills?" she says with some concern in her robotic voice.

You huff. Its not the first time you done it.

"FRIDAY, I will be fine like the other times." you say, unsure already.

Remembering the times you did it left you unconscious and leaving you in cold sweats and in pain for days. No ne really cared to check up on you as this became a normal routine for you to stay huddle in your room.  

You take them and you swallow and down it with the alcohol.

A couple minutes later, FRIDAY speaks up

"Miss, You are needed at the hangar, you have a mission awaiting you."

"Oh shit."

FRIDAY speaks up, again

"Miss, you will be needed in twenty to leave."

"Crap Crap Crap" you say.

'How am I supposed to even go on it if I just swallowed down shit'

"Okay FRIDAY....um Who is attending this?" Hoping the three main people won't go. Crossing your fingers when she comes up again.

"Attendance will be Ms. Romanoff. Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes, and Captain Rogers."

'Oh Fuck'

Your palms start sweating, the people that I have been trying to avoid come again.

Hopefully nothing goes wrong.......right?

[rivertate-blog]

the broken road // development para

tw: abuse (past) , tw: alcohol(?)

The day the press are given access to the foxhole court, almost the entire team is on edge, and River feels much the same way.  They know by now that journalists aren’t anyone’s friends, at least when it comes to their teammates, and the Foxes who don’t actually hate talking to them could probably be counted on one or two fingers.  While they haven’t been assigned to press duty yet, they’ve heard only bad things, and their inexperience in this department is a big part of what’s causing their anxiety.  

Even with years of experience behind them of walking on eggshells and carefully monitoring every word and action, for fear of consequences, the terror of doing something wrong and making not just themself but the entire team look bad is hard to shake.  Still, there’s nothing to be done, no getting out of it when the cameras are already here, and at the very least they have practice to look forward to before they’re alone with the interviewer.  A weird practice, since they’re being observed, but if there’s one thing they can do right, it’s play exy.  

River brings no less than their best effort to morning practice, willing themselves to ignore the cameras and carry on like they always do.  It works, for the most part.  Focusing on what they’re doing on the court lets them forget about everything else and enjoy themselves.  Playing for a Class I team is intense, sure, it always has been, but River wouldn’t be doing this if they didn’t truly enjoy it.  They’ve been putting in as much extra time as they can possibly manage for the past few weeks, ever since the loss against the Ravens, eager to improve their game, and it’s satisfying to see themself get better little by little.  

Ultimately, though, practice only lasts so long, and the reality of what they have to do afterwards rushes up to meet them again.  River finds themself loitering in the shower, entertaining elaborate fantasies of ways to get out of their interview.  Would faking their own death be too extreme?  Dana would definitely be pissed; she’d threatened before that if they ever did die she’d find a way to resurrect them just to kill them again. Not to mention the Foxes would be out a dealer. A freshman, but still. Sighing heavily, they finally turn the water off and start to get ready, steeling themselves for whatever’s going to happen.  Don’t give them anything they can twist, and make the team look good. How hard could that be?

Making their way out of the locker room, River heads over to the room at the back of the court where the journalists have set up, their heartbeat louder in their ears than they’d really like it to be. You don’t have to answer anything invasive if you don’t want to, just breathe, they remind themself, they have to behave or they’re gone. With a deep breath, they open the door, already on the defensive but trying to hope for the best.

Their interviewer is a too-cheerful woman with a smile they don’t trust.  “River Tate, right? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, offering a hand that River politely shakes, hoping their palms aren’t too sweaty.  “Is it alright if I call you River?” They confirm that yes, that’s fine by them, and settle themselves in the chair set up across from the camera, trying to get comfortable.

“I’ll start off with some questions about you, and then we can move on to talking about the season, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“So, this is your first season with the Foxes.  What lead you choose Palmetto State, rather than a different school?”

Already, the implication that the Foxes weren’t a good option to begin with, combined with something in her tone of voice that implies she’s trying to dig for the personal tragedy every Fox is assumed to have. “Well, Palmetto has a great program,” River says, keeping their expression pleasant.  “They’ve been a force to be reckoned with, as far as Class I teams go.  Back in high school, I was undecided for a while about where I wanted to go, but I’d been following the Foxes for a few years, and when Wymack offered me a spot on the team I decided to take it.”  She didn’t need to know that River had spent 12 hours both ways on a bus just to deliver their tape to Wymack in person.  

“How has the transition to college been for you so far?  Balancing school and playing exy seems like a lot of commitment.”

“It is, but I’d say I’ve adjusted. For me it’s just a matter of managing my time.”

“I see. And what are you studying?”

“Visual art, with a minor in psychology,” River answers honestly, and if the reporter has the usual reaction people have when hearing someone is an art major she hides it well.  

“That’s an interesting pairing. Any reason for those subjects specifically?” “I’ve been drawing my whole life,” River says, shrugging slightly. “My plan right now is to get drafted after I graduate, but I figure if that doesn’t work out I can try and combine my other interests and go for art therapy.”

That answer must be satisfactory enough the next couple questions are mostly innocent ones about their line of study, even if she tries to pry into why River’s interested in therapy specifically.  They think they do a good job of dodging those with vague answers about wanting to help people, but they have a feeling they might have given her something they didn’t intend to give.

“With everything you have on your plate, would you say you have a support system? Any family or friends?”

“All of the Foxes are more or less my friends, in different ways,” River says, and they do honestly feel that way.  Sure, there were some they didn’t know as well as others, but there was a camaraderie that came with coming from similar backgrounds, and they did all spend a ton of time together.  “The whole team has each other’s backs, which has really helped me, personally, get through some of the stress that comes with the championships.  My older sister has always encouraged me, too. She watches every single game.”

“What about your parents? Are they as supportive as she is?”

It’s a perfectly innocent question, really, and maybe someday years from now River will be able to think about their parents without feeling sick, without feeling the ghost of their father’s fists or belt, without feeling broken glass slicing through their skin all over again, will be able to smell cigarette smoke without smelling their own burning flesh too, will be able to stop hearing their mother’s shrill, condemning voice in their dreams. But today isn’t that day, they only escaped from that house two years ago, and that seemingly innocuous question has kickstarted that god-awful psychosomatic itching they’ve been working out with Betsy at every scar.  They don’t realize they’ve been lost in their own head until the reporter calls their name gently and snaps them out of it.

“No comment,” River says flatly, scratching hard enough over the tiny, circular burn scars on their forearms to turn the skin angry red. It isn’t the most graceful evasion, but they hope it gets their point across.  The reporter opens her mouth like she’s going to press the issue, but something about River’s expression must change her mind, and she closes it.

“So, changing gears a bit,” She begins again, and River’s heart sinks even further preemptively.  “From your presence on social media, you’ve been pretty open about the fact that you identify as transgender, specifically that you don’t identify as a man or a woman.”

River can’t stop themself from stiffening, not sure where she’s headed with this. “That’s right,” they answer cautiously, trying to keep their tone level.  

“Has being open about your gender expression impacted your relationships with the rest of the team in any way?”

River frowns.  “I can’t say it has, no.  Every single one of my teammates has been welcoming and accepting towards me from the minute I got here, so there aren’t any problems there.”

“You’ve mentioned wanting to go on and play professionally.  Do you see your status as a transgender athlete impacting your chances at an exy career?”

They’ve about had it with this particular line of questioning after something like that, and they consider how to phrase what they want to say into something that will hopefully segway into talking about the current season.  They scratch absently at their forearms again as they speak.  “The whole LGBT spectrum has been well represented at Court in recent years,” they say carefully. “I know I’m not the only openly trans or nonbinary athlete in college exy right now, and if I do play professionally in the future I won’t be the only one there either. So, no, if anything affects my chances it will be how I play, not anything else.”

“Speaking of, before I let you go, what are your thoughts on how the Foxes are doing this season? The team’s certainly made it farther than they have in recent memory.”

River’s feeling more than a little emotionally wrung out from previous questioning, but tries their hardest to sound confident.  “And we’ve worked hard to make that happen.  I’m proud of everything we’ve accomplished so far, and I’m confident we could even win the championship title this year.”

“Any feelings on facing Ohio State in your next match?”

The conversation they had with Casey after the game in Nevada is still fresh in their mind, enough that even hearing the name Ohio State spurs a fresh surge of anger, but they doubt I want those fuckers to pay is going to go over well in the press.  Instead, they plaster on what they hope is a self-assured smile.  “Ohio State has a great team, for sure, but I’d say we’re equally matched.  It’ll probably be a challenging game, but I’m looking forward to every second.”

“Alright, well, that’s all I have for today,” the reporter nods after they finish speaking, smiling artificially again as River gets up to shake her hand one more time.  “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, River.”

If River practically bolts from the room after a cursory “Not a problem, thank you for your time,” well, that’s no one’s business but their own.

[loislaneinvestigatesauthors]

Long shadow of apartheid: Toko Loshe’s Shades of Africa

Why do you think it's important for people to write novels about relatively recent historical times, to process these events through fiction? Or for those who have lived through historical events to tell their stories? What can you get from a memoir or a novel that adds to what's already out there in the history books?

In my case it was my story. My own experiences, emotions and point of view as witnessed. This cannot be found in a technical account of facts in a history book. A close encounter of the direct personal kind. I have used fiction, not to disguise the truth, as the events are true, but to scan over a period of 30 years of personal encounters, which involved filling in the gaps of my personal life. These gaps were filled in using my memories of the time and place as best remembered, most probable and as close to the real thing as possible, in my memory of the time. It is important that scholars are aware that there are other opinions based on actual witnessed events.

Important? I would rather say that it is necessary when one individual is walking through a personal encounter of life through the political times of a changing country. This may not be in agreement to what has been said at the time through international media and political party comments.

The choice of fiction was to protect family members who may, or may not still be alive. There are also political references noted as people witnessed them and not taken from biased reporting at the time, many times done to cover up political wrongdoing.

Do you think that Westerners have an accurate perception of what went on during the apartheid period? Or do you think there are misconceptions that need to be cleared up?

Westerners’ perception? This is a difficult question but most importantly, those perceptions were not always misconceptions. Apartheid was real, the only thing to be cleared up was, and still is, the awful mess it has left behind. The media played a big part by not always telling the truth, smudging events and in many cases making up a story. However, many stories were true and sadly used by some who had their own agenda, who needed this validation, true or false, to prove their own point and fan their own flames of hatred. Most Westerners got it right and understood what was going on without agreeing to apartheid or individual personal objection and bloody mindedness. The retaliation of the black people and their cry for freedom also had misguided coverage, after all, who had fired the first shot? With Nelson Mandela branded for that crime regardless of reason.

Kirkus Reviews describes your book as 'impressionistic' and suggests that children often see different aspects of life as important compared to adults, so writing from a child's point of view can give a whole different view of a situation. Do you think that's true, that children have a different and valid perspective on the world, not just a limited, incomplete understanding of the adult world?

My view is that children have a clearer perspective of the world than most adults will give them credit for. A child sees it as it is, not influenced by handed down stories of how the world has changed. It is what it is. Children do have a different and valid view of a situation, not smudged by personal experiences and perspective, hopefully they have not been ‘got at’ by well-meaning adults bent on pointing out the flaws of life.

I would like to write a children’s book as seen through clear eyes and mind. I ask my grandchildren the same questions, aged from 5 years to 25 years. The influences of life changes the answer as they get older. For example – this old question.  ‘Does a butterfly know the colour of its wings?’ Answers from, ‘yes, I told him,‘ to ‘I know this one, it is about finding yourself and how far you can go and taking flight.’ I love them both.

Why did you choose to write from the point of view of a young girl? As opposed to, say, an adult living in the African countries where your novel takes place, or an adult reflecting back on her life when she was younger? What do we gain from the child's perspective?

The truth, we gain the truth through a child’s eyes. Unclouded vision, unafraid of consequence. In the story my father refers to our Zulu nanny as ‘a useless black bitch.’ I saw only that her dress was torn, which did not worry her and that she was happy to have pleased my father. I wondered why he called her black. After all she was not the colour of my black crayon. There is no colour in a child’s eyes, only a friend.

Why did you choose to depict such extreme violence in the life of young Shirley? Was that a commentary on the violence of the apartheid system, or human nature in general? Or was this just something that young girls, white or black, had to endure in those times?

Extreme violence was  the way of life at that time not only endured by young girls white or black. It was something that I endured. The apartheid system brought out the worst in everyone. This was not always seen at the time, the stress of living this life, caused both whites and blacks to behave in a way that they may not have in a different world.

Also, the violence Shirley lives through is often interpersonal and intimate (child abuse/domestic violence/rape etc) rather than abstract (getting denied a job and living in poverty because of racial discrimination). Why did you choose to tell such a personal story about your character as opposed to writing about injustice and brutality in more abstract terms?

I told the story in my character as a child because it was real, not some blurred conception years later, we were guilty as individuals following the sins of our fathers as they did theirs. A child suffering abuse/domestic violence/rape etc in those days thought only of the hurt we endured. This is the mind of a child, although hurt physically and emotionally, this was a child’s story. I am not presenting the views of an adult nor do I intend standing on a soapbox regarding personal injustice. I would not be denied a job, I am white. The opposite thing happened to me (in the story) when I was offered a job in a store providing I was clean, wore clean clothes and did not smell. The young African woman I was replacing lived in a village without water for daily bathing, had little clothing and walked miles to work and back. She also would have been providing an income to feed the family. The job was discussed with my mother and store owner, I took the job too young (13) to understand the poor girl’s plight at the time. Does that make me not guilty? In hind sight, surely the store owner could have provided clothing as a uniform and a bar of soap to use in the bathroom? But of course she was not allowed in the bathroom, where would she wash and change?

Please understand that this story is true, it is the way it was for the children, the black and white people in this story. There are many stories about apartheid told by adults, unfortunately they tend to try and explain why they behaved the way they did, to justify their actions, after all what could they do? It was the law. Still today I find the same reaction. ‘Why bring that up now? It’s OK, we released Mandela, leave it alone.’ ‘Is it?’ I ask, we need to lift the veil on the past and the buried present behind closed doors and not forget. We have shoved it under the carpet. Did I hear anyone in South Africa say sorry? If so I would like to read that story.

How does the legacy of apartheid continue to impact South Africa, Zambia and Zimbabwe? How can a nation heal after such division and violence?

Scars are hidden behind the countries that appear to be prospering under dictatorship. South Africa is trying to heal, this is not an easy road. Generally I believe that most people are trying very hard to mend the past and I see it when I visit family. There are good people and the young are a joy to watch as they interact with different races. It will not happen overnight. There are pockets all over Africa and the rest of the world who still believe in apartheid and communism by ways of different words. Racial discrimination is as bad today as it was in the days of apartheid with new generations lifting the banner of hatred, violence and religious differences. Corruption of country leaders who live in wealth while their people starve should not be tolerated. We have learnt nothing from the past.

I believe that everyone regardless of colour or religion must be allowed to pray, where, and to whom they believe. Religious discrimination must not be used as a means to terrorise and kill.

To heal after such division and violence sadly will not happen as long as there are factions who are making money on other people, yes human trafficking and slavery is still alive. The issue has moved in Africa from whites against black to black against black. I would like to think that there is tribal pride involved as a purpose but unfortunately it is all about power and money. Anyway that is what I read, see and hear in the media.

Toko Loshe’s Shades of Africa can be ordered here.

[thirdnova-kara]

Task 12: Muse Booster

Name: Kara Brookes

Height: 5′4″

Age in Story: 24

Birthplace: San Francisco, California

Hair (color, length, style): Kara’s hair is naturally blonde, and while she usually prefers it short, it’s currently grown a few inches past her shoulders over the years. Keeping it straight is an easier way to style it, but sometimes she’ll curl or wave it.

Race/Nationality: White; American with some Irish, British, and German ethnicity

Regional Influences: California

Accent (voice, style of speech, slang, signature words/phrases): Kara doesn’t have an accent, and she tends to use more relevant, every day slang like “I can’t even,” “on fleek,” and “bae.” She is also pretty known for coming up with pet names for people (her most famous being the name she called Gabe Bradbury, “Bradbaby”). Her voice is kind of soft with a very subtle raspy/rough edge to it. Voice clip here.

Religion: Catholic, but super poor practicing

Marital Status: Unmarried, but dating

Scars/Other Notable Physical Attributes: She does have a few small, faded scars from fights as a Rebel. She also has a few small tattoos. Her first tattoo is a small cross on her right wrist. Her next one is a small 3 on the inside of her right wrist, which she got recently after she became the Third Nova of the Rebel Army. She has the Roman numerals LXXVI (76) on her left side. She also has two small anchor tattoos on each of her ankles. She got these shortly after she joined the Rebel Army, as symbols to keep herself grounded when she was training to gain control of her powers. 

Handicaps (physical, emotional, mental): She’s emotionally very stubborn and a pro compartmentalizer. She’s also a functioning alcoholic to an extent. 

Athletic? Inactive? Overall health?: Very athletic and healthy. She trains and works out every day in the Rebel base, and she tries her best to eat relatively healthy.

Style of Dress: Kara’s style of dress is always comfortable and casual. She likes to feel comfy in skinny jeans/ripped skinny jeans; Sperry’s, Vans, Converse, UGGs; crop tops, t-shirts, or tank tops with light sweaters or cardigans. Sometimes she’ll add a scarf or beanie as an accessory. She’ll occasionally dress it up with a nicer top or sweater with nicer flats or boots of varying lengths. While she dresses in a more casual fashion, she does have a good eye for fashion in general and wishes she could afford top trends for herself to wear on a daily basis.

Favorite Colors: Light blues and greens and silver

How does character feel about appearance? She definitely knows she’s attractive, and likes to keep up her appearance even in little ways.

Any siblings?: Tanner Brookes (older brother) and Zed Avery (older half brother)

Relationship with parents?: Ever since she ran away when she was about 16, her relationship with her parents had been kind of strained. She rarely ever spoke to them, but not because they were bad parents. She respected and admired her parents, and loved them a lot, and she still feels guilty for running off without an explanation. Now that they’re dead, she regrets her past actions and not being able to see them or tell them she loves them before they were killed. 

Memories about childhood?: Kara has very vague memories of her childhood, but she remembers it being mostly a normal childhood. She was happy, and she definitely remembers growing up with Tanner and how the two of them would torment each other but look out for each other at the same time. 

Educational background? (Street smart? Book smart?): Kara is a high school drop out, but she is a good mix of book and street smart, excelling in street smarts. She’s been quietly considering getting her GED and going to college, possibly to study fashion design or business.

Work Experience: Rebel Army Third Nova

Where does the character live now? Describe home. (Emotional atmosphere & physical): Kara currently lives in both the Rebel Army base, and sometimes at Tanner’s apartment. The Rebel Army base has been considered her “real home” for the past few years since she ran away, but she wouldn’t exactly call it a relaxing place to live, especially as an authority figure to the other Rebels. Tanner’s apartment has become a relaxing escape for herself. 

Neat or messy?: Kind of messy in the cluttered sense.

Sexuality: Straight.

Morals: Kara thinks her morals are pretty well rounded. She believes in Metahuman equality and wants to fight for it fairly, but she doesn’t believe in killing or aggressively gaining this equality. She will, however, kill for self defense or to protect someone, but she will still feel guilty about it. 

Activities: Fighting, training, teaching younger Rebels, sketching, drinking wine, reading, sketching

Friends? Pets?: Alice, Deidra, Daniel, Foster, and Ryan are her closest friends. She kind of adopted Aslan, Val’s cat, as her own after the other Rebel’s passing.

Enemies? Why?: Lucien Gaudet. The man tried to kill her, pretty much killed Connor, and took some of her eggs without permission to create the biological daughter of her and Connor as a science project. 

Basic Nature: Kara is definitely tough, witty, and unafraid to tell it like it is to someone’s face. She’s brave and strong, with quite the stubborn streak, and a difficulty in admitting when she’s wrong (but she’s working on it). She’s fiercely loyal and will go to the ends of the earth to keep those she loves safe and out of harm.

Personality Traits: Short-tempered, stubborn, strong-willed, bold, witty, sassy, creative, compassionate, calm, impatient, powerful, maternal, protective, argumentative, authoritative, intuitive, loyal

Strongest/Weakest Traits: Kara’s strongest traits are her protective nature, her wit, and her loyalty. Her weakest would be her temper and stubbornness, since these two traits make her reluctant in admitting when she’s wrong about something, and that has caused tension in her relationships before.

What do they fear?: She fears that the Rebels aren’t doing anything and never will, and that all they will accomplish against C.A.R.M.A is everyone getting killed fighting for Metahuman equal rights.

What are they proud of?: She’s proud of being part of the Rebel Army and the fact that she’s doing something (even if it’s not much) to work towards a better future for Metas and humans living together.

Outlook on life: She’s very realistic and secretly hopefully optimistic about the future.

Ambitions: To help the Rebels “win” the war of Metahuman oppression against the government and C.A.R.M.A without resorting to all-out violence.

Politics: Kara doesn’t feel as if she’s educated enough in most political areas to make an informed decision, but she’s very strongly for Metahuman equality and rights as a political stance. She does find herself slowly becoming more and more conservative with a few liberal values as she learns more.

How do they see themselves?: She likes to think she’s a strong and inspiring leader of the Rebels, but sometimes she doubts herself on doing a good job. 

How are they seen by others?: Sassy, sarcastic, witty, brave, a fearless leader. Some would say she’s incredibly stubborn and argumentative, and that may cause some dislike towards her.

Do I (the writer) like this person? Why? Why not?: Absolutely. Kara’s the kind of person I’d want as my ride or die best friend. She’s fiercely loyal and trustworthy, and definitely someone I’d want fighting for me in my corner.

Most Important Thing About Them: Her strength and loyalty.

Present Problem: C.A.R.M.A and the government are continuing to crack down on the rights of Metahumans, and the Rebels haven’t achieved much of anything except for an increasing body count in the last few years. The Rebel Army’s stagnant progress is becoming incredibly frustrating for Kara and other Rebels.

How it will get worse: There are a million different ways this could get worse, really. C.A.R.M.A could continue restricting their rights as Metas until they are absolutely boxed in even further. Rebels could start going against Nova orders and attacking C.A.R.M.A’s base in Pansaw, thus cementing the fact that the Rebels are terrorists when they aren’t supposed to be. The Nephilim continuing to spread fear and discord with using their powers to harm others certainly doesn’t help the Rebels’ name.

Their goals in this story?: Kara wants to one day live in a world where she can live a normal life while using her powers freely, go back to school to get her degree in fashion design, get married and start a family (after first getting a job and a place of her own, of course), and just be happy. To start achieving this, however, she and the Rebels need to somehow end the war of Metahuman oppression.

What traits will help/hurt them in achieving this goal?: Her determination, strength, resilience, and unwillingness to give up.

What makes them different from similar characters?: I think what makes Kara different is that she doesn’t let her gender define herself in a role of power as a young female leader of a civil movement. She’s strong on her own, but knows when to ask for help, and most importantly, she doesn’t let her love life or any man define herself, unlike a few female main characters. She also freely speaks her mind however she likes, even if some people may say it’s “unclassy for a lady to talk that way.” She literally gives no fucks.

Why will readers remember this character vividly?: I think what makes Kara so memorable is that she’s a strong female character in a position of leadership, and she can admit that she’s not a perfect person. She’s human and capable of making mistakes, and even learning from them, and that makes her relatable and admirable at the same time.