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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

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Treasure- Part 1

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)

Word Count: 3,565

Genre: Fantasy AU, Pirate AU

Warnings: Language, Violence, Some Smut, Mentions of Blood

Summary: For her entire life, Y/N has always been at the disposal of the men who treat her like she’s less than human. Her father was an alcoholic and her mother is unable to support the two of them after his death. Years later, Y/N feels stuck and there’s nothing worse than feeling trapped in your own home. However, after being kidnapped by a gang of ruthless pirates, Y/N finally gets her first chance of freedom and she very much likes the way it tastes even if that means playing with the heart of the notorious pirate captain whose affections become more and more obvious every day.

When I was younger, my mother told me stories about the ocean goddess Amphitrite whose husband, Poseideon, commanded the endless tides and waves. She was a jealous lover, envious of the women Posideon would often bed, resulting in demigod children which he treasured and kept safely hidden away from his wife’s thirst for vengeance. But children can only be controlled for as long as their curiosity remains sated, choosing the comfort of land instead of that deep-spirited desire to return to the water. Eventually, his demigod children could no longer resist the call and that’s when Amphitrite would rise from the deepest trenches, commanding the ocean to overhaul boats of brave sailors, thunderous power splitting the ships in half while the demigod children lose themselves to their father’s perilous domain.

But Posideon grew angry with Amphitrite’s actions, demanding that she leave his children alone or else she would be banished to the Underworld where his ruthless brother Hades prevailed. Bitter and disappointed, Amphitrite sought a new solution to the problem of her husband’s illicit affairs. Amphitrite decided to try her luck on land and she lived amongst the humans for many years. One day, while she was wandering a distant shore, Amphitrite fell in love with a gorgeous sailor whose long, silky hair and endless sea-green eyes commanded her deepest affections. The sailor, who never realized her true identity, also fell for the mysterious way he felt drawn to the woman who climbed aboard his ship. He promised that he would do anything to please Amphitrite and the clever goddess requested that the sailor track and kill the children of her unsuspecting husband. So, with a crew at hand, the love-struck sailor spent years at sea burning the ships of Poseidon’s demigod children, earning him the nickname of “Pirate” for his bloodthirsty crimes at the behest of Amphitrite....

“I think that’s enough for one night,” my mother would say, noticing the way my eyes grew wider despite the fact that I was meant to be sleeping.

“Are there pirates here?” I would often ask my mother once she was finished.

“They’re only stories, my dearest,” my mother would reply, holding me close at night while my gaze wandered the darkness, searching out the window with a mixture of fear and trepidation, wondering if a pirate would sneak through the window with blood dripping from his blade.

But that was my childhood and, as the years slowly passed away, those stories grew as distant as my memories, lost to the powerful effects of time. I grew as tall as my mother, discovering her features whenever I would look into a mirror. I also inherited her passion for storytelling and would often sit on the hills overlooking the brilliant sea imagining myself exploring the distant lands that the maps at school promised would hold all sorts of possibilities.

Sadly, my dreams of leaving the island became less and less of a possibility as the realities of life replaced the fantastical wanderings of my imagination. When my father eventually died and left me alone to deal with my despondent mother who could no longer take care of herself. She would usually sit in the living room throughout the day, looking out the window at nothing in particular. It was a miracle to hear her speak, and I knew that my mother had become nothing more than a shell of her former self. To take care of us, I was forced to leave school which only dampened my curiosity in the study of Astronomy and the brilliant stars that always inspired me when I was younger.

I would always miss my youth because now, at the tender age of 21, I had nothing left of the Spirit that once fueled my every hope and desire. I walked through each day dreading the possibility of another, watching everyone else around me move through their lives like the waves washing up on the beach, there at one instant and then gone the next. Leaving for a distant land in the small ships that frequently visited our small island. But nobody liked to stay forever because the human instinct to explore and conquer was present in every man and woman. Sadly, I’d never get the chance to satisfy mine.

Trapped here, like the fish brought in at high tide, to suffer through an endless cycle, wishing to escape to the stars because only then could I be truly free.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” the heavy-set man groaned at my ear, thick hips pounding against mine with bruising power.

“I’ll be whatever you want,” I responded robotically, gazing at the ceiling and creating constellations out of the boards.

It was the same every night, depending on what sort of customers were drawn into the hostel. The owner, an older gentleman with greasy, balding hair, would accept payment for our services, setting aside a gold token or two if he was feeling generous towards his whores which only ever happened when the place was full. Our best customers were merchant ships full of drunk and horny sailors looking to forget about their unfortunate circumstances and stick their uncut cocks into whatever comfortable hole they could find.

“It’s good business,” the owner would croon, gathering us girls together around him. “My sluts make me good money.”

I would always hold my tongue at the term because, despite the fact that it was true, the connotation still struck a nerve, especially considering how my father had treated my mother. He would often come home at night completely wasted, slapping my mother like she meant absolutely nothing to him. Yelling obscenities while requesting that his slut get him something else to drink.

My father had passed away years ago, but my mother took his loss a lot more than I was expecting considering his treatment towards her. Her eyes lost the light I had cherished as a child, spending her days gazing out the window in my father’s old armchair while I was forced to find work. And those young girls like me who were unable to stay in school on the island could always find work at a whorehouse, selling her body for enough money to buy food and pay rent. That’s all that mattered to me for survival, but it still didn’t satisfy my wildest imaginations, dreaming of escaping to a place far away from this horrible island.

My client for the evening let out a deep-throated moan, cumming inside and I winced when I felt him lean down to kiss my forehead, the gesture far too intimate for my comfort. “I’d buy you again a heartbeat,” he told me sincerely while I impatiently waited for my shift to finally end.

I was usually a lot stricter about the type of contact I allowed. However, these days, I usually endured far more than I used to back when I was still new to the services required of me. Skittish around the older men touching my body or afraid to even ask the other girls for advice. I’m sure some of those clients took advantage of my innocence, but that had since worn off and I was nothing if not completely stoic when it came time to satisfy another customer.

I was still often ignored by the other girls, especially since men usually preferred me because of my younger age. There was only so much that makeup could hide before the body itself bore its secrets in the wrinkles creasing one’s forehead or the bulging veins in a girl’s thighs and arms. My body was still soft, enjoying the effects of youth before those looks would inevitably become lost to a steady decline.

But then again, most men didn’t care since they were usually drunk and reeking of desperation when they entered the hostel. “Sell me your best,” they would often request of my boss to which he would simply signal whichever girl happened to be closest at the time. It was always unfortunate when it was someone simply looking to negotiate their pay so that they could feed their family.

I walked down the stairs from my room with heavy steps while trying to ignore the new ache between my thighs. Carefully, I avoided the lingering patrons while taking a seat at the bar. Someone had discarded a glass from earlier, but I didn’t care about whose lips might have touched the rim, downing the rest of the nasty-smelling liquid without care. “Don’t look so down, kid, you’re too young for wrinkles.”

I offered Wendy, the kind hostel bartender, a small smile. “Any news on how many ships are coming into port tonight?”

“Heard a lot of rumors today,” she said, toweling off another glass. “It might be a pretty busy night. You know that makes the boss happy.”

“But it also means a long shift for me,” I said. “I can only handle a few old bastards a night before I feel completely numb in my legs.”

“Try stretching,” she suggested. “Good business means you might get paid more.”

“Still won’t be enough,” I said, barely acknowledging one of the other hostel workers who had suddenly joined us at the bar.

“Sounds like someone should have stayed at home if she ain’t on her best game,” her nasal voice informed me.

“I don’t do much of the work.”

A snort of laughter. “That’s true. You might be the best of us at spreading those pretty thighs.”

I gritted my teeth together as I signaled for Wendy to refill my glass. “This coming from someone who’s always chosen last by the clientele.”

Barbara paused next to me, spine rigid. “Watch your mouth, little girl. We don’t talk that way to anyone, got it?”

“Whatever,” I muttered darkly, eyes narrowing as more men started to walk into the hostel, eyes shiny with evidence of their desires which I would have the obligation of fulfilling.

“Work hard,” Barbara snapped at me before wandering out onto the main floor sporting her best smile.

I glowered in her direction, surveying the crowd with disinterest. “There’s a big group,” Wendy remarked, nodding at the door.

I spun around in my chair, holding tightly to my glass as I discovered the boisterous crowd of relatively young sailors who had just entered the hostel. It was a large group of men, clothed in ragged attire barely held together by worn stitching, black-toed boots scuffing the floors. They were loud and obnoxious, clearly oblivious to decorum. They wore matching black masks and hats, overcoats thick as they carried themselves with an air of superiority. “They don’t look like regular sailors,” I remarked loosely to Wendy, unaware of the consequences of my words until a few moments later when the leader of the group suddenly confronted my boss who had been talking with a few regulars.

“How many do you have here?” the masked man demanded, flaming red hair contrasting with his pale skin.

“H-how many of what?” my boss asked, cowering back as he took in the sight of the gangly crew.

“Whores,” the red-head said, surveying the hostel with interest, eyes pausing on me for longer than I would have liked.

“Tonight?” my boss spluttered. “I got six working the floor.”

“We’ll take all of them,” the red-head said.

“I don’t know if I have enough rooms to accommodate that many pairings! If you could just-”

“Not here,” the red-head sighed impatiently, turning to look at one of his partners. “Am I not speaking English, San?”

“It sounds like it to me,” the one named San pondered, gaze thoughtful as he considered my boss. “Did you not hear him, old man? Give us all of your whores.”

“W-where would you take them?”

“Onboard, obviously,” the red-head snapped. “The crew needs some new entertainment.”

“They got bored of the last ones,” a deeper voice joined the fray belonging to someone whose eyes crinkled at the sides with mischief. He was undoubtedly smiling beneath that unusual disguise.

“Hurry up, Mingi, Captain’s not gonna wait all night!”

“Those girls aren’t leaving this hostel,” my boss said, standing straighter even as his shoulders fell against the heavy gaze of Mingi, tall form looming in a dominant fashion.

In a split second, Mingi pulled a gun from the belt around his waist, aiming directly at my boss’ head. The entire hostel grew silent, all eyes watching the impending situation with fear evident in their dilated irises. “What did you say?”

“Alright, alright,” my boss said, waving his hands like a lunatic. “You can use them for one night.”

BANG!

I heard a distant squeal when his body finally hit the floor, but I was too caught up in my unexpected self-satisfaction at seeing my slimy boss bleeding out against the wood I had spent hours cleaning last night. “He said six,” Mingi growled, glancing back at his men. “Take whichever six you want, including her,” he said, pointing in my direction. “We can save her for the captain.”

His words were the catalyst for the sudden action of the other men, swords drawn from their scabbards as they ran at the crowd with excited cheers as if the prospect of attacking innocent civilians was too much to anticipate. Screams filled the hostel, men and women alike running in opposite directions in their desperation to escape. “Pirates!” someone shouted and the word sent a shiver down my spine as I met the gaze of the man who had murdered my boss in cold blood.

“The Captain will like you a lot, girl,” Mingi said, nodding appreciatively as he openly appraised me like I was particularly worthy of his attention. Around us, the other girls were sobbing and pleading, struggling in the grasps of the pirates who had since taken them hostage, pulling them towards the door of the hostel which I once associated with long nights struggling to sell my body to the highest bidder. “Are you gonna give me a hard time like your friends?”

“They aren’t my friends,” I retorted coldly, surprising the pirate standing before me.

“You’ll be coming with us.”

“I understand,” I said calmly, gazing out across the now mostly vacant hostel, a few bodies littering the floors covered in blood. “I’ll go with you.”

Mingi smirked, gripping tightly to my upper arm even though it wasn’t necessary, leading me out into the chaotic streets like I was nothing more than a common dog for him to command. The island itself was a complete mess, townspeople running through the streets cursing and yelling, trash loitering the sidewalks, children mindlessly glancing around with wide, confused eyes. And through it all I managed to keep myself together, vaguely wondering what my mother might be doing at that moment. But it never crossed my mind to beg this pirate to allow me one last chance to see her. It didn’t matter that my mother depended on me to take care of her because, for a fleeting second, I could only think about how unfair it was that I was stuck with a mother like her who could no longer protect me from harm

The dock was glowing in the distance, lanterns lighting the worn pathways leading to different ships anchored at port. I had only been to the docks a few times in my life, mostly to help my former boss whenever the hostel received a large delivery. Nevertheless, it still managed to fill me with a sick feeling of hope that maybe one day I could find myself a ship willing to take me far away from the island. Somewhere warm and inviting where I could study Astronomy and remember all the delicate patterns I had once memorized when I was still a young and impressionable child.

Of course, being kidnapped against my will was certainly not the way I envisioned leaving the island, especially when it involved pirates. I studied Mingi from the corner of my eyes. How many people has he killed? Would I be just another body to add to his list?

Such questions were useless to consider because fear was the last emotion I needed to feed into right now, paralyzed with the wide-eyed desire to run or fight and protect myself. I would stand no chance with these pirates, especially Mingi who was taller and strong, leading me to a ship that stood in contrast to the others anchored down. The ship in question, with the name “Precious” painted onto the side of the hull, was larger than any boat I had ever seen docked at the bay. It was actually quite beautiful, dark sails trembling in the breeze while the forlorn flag at the highest point indicated that it belonged to the pirate order. But that was just the ironic contradiction of the ship because despite its outward appearance, the men who commanded her wheel were nothing short of barbaric. A nasty breed of man who plundered the seas and killed without remorse.

I stumbled up the narrow plank, glaring at Mingi from the corner of my eye as he continued to push me onboard. The other girls were already kneeling, hands tied behind their backs as they suffered from various states of undress. I glanced down at my disheveled skirts, grateful that they at least covered my legs. “This one is for the Captain.”

“But she’s the youngest!” another voice complained, glaring almost enviously at the other girls.

“For. The. Captain,” Mingi repeated, jerking me to the right. “You can do whatever you want to the rest of them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, wincing when I saw one of the pirates dig his fingers tightly into Barbara’s dark hair. “You should be grateful,” Mingi growled at me. “The Captain doesn’t like to share.”

“I don’t feel grateful,” I hissed back at him, completely unprepared for the accompanying slap as my head twisted to the side.

“You won’t talk to me that way,” Mingi said, shoving me against the wall, fingers tightening around my throat. My lungs were screaming for air, toes hovering above the deck, hands scratching against his impossible hold. I was gasping, desperate for air while my mind screamed at me to fight back, but I was powerless against his predominant strength.

“Is this one mine?”

My feet landed on the floor and I dropped to my knees, breathing in the air like it was the last time I might be able to do so. “It might not be worth it, Captain,” Mingi spat. “She’s got a mouth on her.”

“Is that so?”

I was slowly recovering from my temporary brush with death, lifting my gaze to locate the mysterious Captain I was now meant to serve. He wasn’t as tall as Mingi, but he was somehow far more intimidating, wearing all black from the mask hiding his face to the boots echoing against the deck. His hair was a strawberry color, delicately framing an angular face that might be handsome if it didn’t belong to such a despicable person. “Tell me your name, whore,” he demanded.

I swallowed hard against the raw ache in my throat. “Y/N.”

The Captain nodded. “Mingi, you can leave the two of us now. Go enjoy the other girls.”

Mingi obeyed, albeit reluctantly as he trained those suspicious eyes on my recovering form. “Aye, sir.”

I watched him as he walked away, fingers massaging my still-tender throat. “Does it hurt?”

I carefully considered the Captain. “He tried to kill me.”

“You shouldn’t mouth off,” the Captain said, nodding towards a door. “Come inside.” I bit my tongue, withholding a sharp retort as I did as he directed, brushing off my skirts. “My private quarters,” he said, shrugging off his thick overcoat while I examined the dozens of candles lining the mantlepiece.

“Will the others be hurt?”

He paused at my question. “Does it matter? You can’t do anything to help them.”

“I just want to help myself,” I told him honestly, brushing my fingers across a rather ancient looking bookcase.

“Then this should be easy,” the Captain said, tearing off his mask. “You can be good for me while I fuck you.”

I took a moment to admire the Captain’s features, far more delicate than I was anticipating with dark, thoughtful eyes. “I’ve been doing that my whole life, Captain.”

He smirked. “Then this should be second-nature to you.”

I bristled at the insinuation. “Maybe I’m tired of being treated like a whore.”

“Why else do you think you were brought onto this ship?” the Captain asked, tone growing hostile.

“I was forced to come aboard,” I said. “By that bumbling idiot who tried to kill me.”

“And I could do the same,” the Captain said, drawing a gun from the holster hanging off his belt. “Get on the bed.”

“I’d rather die,” I told him honestly, staring down the silver weapon to meet the Captain’s narrowed eyes. “Kill me instead.”

A chuckle escaped from between his lips. “So that’s what you want? I could always force you.”

“I’d fight back.”

“But I’m quite strong, love,” he said with a barely distinguishable accent.

“It wouldn’t be easy for you,” I said. “Didn’t you say you wanted someone easy?”

The Captain was quiet for a long time before he re-holstered his gun, crossing his arms in a closed-off manner. “Then perhaps a few nights in the brig will change your mind.”

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut

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necrowriter · 4 years ago

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monday thing: may eighteenth (on hidden obstacles)

lately I've been thinking about video games.

I've played quite a bit of Animal Crossing since New Horizons came out. so, as you just might have noticed, have a lot of other people. by pure coincidence it happened to come out at a time when a great many people needed exactly the kind of escapism Animal Crossing offers. it's peaceful and soothing and soft, an imaginary getaway to a distant island where the neighbors are all friendly, the waves lap gently against clean bright sand, and there is never anything much to worry about it.

but New Horizons was eagerly anticipated long before anyone had any inkling what the circumstances around its release were going to be. it's the fifth game in a very successful series. Animal Crossing has had something appealing to offer for a long time. in the wake of the success of New Horizons I've seen a number of people wondering--many jokingly, some not--about why, exactly, the series is so appealing. is it really that much fun to pay off a home loan? to pull weeds and water flowers? are people really so invested in the thought of buying furniture or catching bugs to sell?

the usual sort of answer--again, often a joking one, sometimes not--is that the appeal is that you can pay off your home loan, without stress or fear, without interest accumulating, without any consequences if you don't. you can earn all the money you need by doing simple, easy tasks, and in the meantime your tanuki landlord will happily wait on you for years if he has to. well ain't that an impossible dream, amirite? we might as well enjoy doing it in a video game because we have no hope of doing it in real life.

and that answer is true, I think, but it only scratches the surface of something that extends well beyond Animal Crossing.

Animal Crossing is perhaps the most extreme example, but many--maybe even most--video games offer the chance to pursue relatively normal, everyday sort of tasks even when the main focus of the game is something very grand and exciting. massive, open-world adventures and RPGs with epic, sweeping stories very often also allow you the opportunity to customize the living space or wardrobe of your main character, play minigames to earn money and prizes, or pursue smaller sidequests to build relationships with friends or lovers or just to help someone out. start a business! care for pets! grow flowers! hell, just take a nice walk if you want.

and if you listen to people talk about playing these games, you will often hear that they spent a great deal of time and energy on such tasks, sometimes much more than they ever spent on the main story or the bigger quests. given the choice, it seems, people are just as often drawn to the smaller things, even in games that also offer the sort of thing that seems like much more conventional wish-fulfillment. certainly I can attest to this. in Minecraft, a game where you can build enormous castles or terraform entire continents, I have spent many enjoyable hours instead building a small farm or a lakeside cottage. Breath of the Wild is a game where you play as a legendary hero reawoken to battle an ancient and terrible foe that has devastated your entire kingdom and sure, I took on that quest, but I did it in-between spending a lot more time gathering ingredients for cooking, feeding apples to my beloved horse, or taking pictures of birds. as soon as Pokemon offered the chance to take a break from becoming a master trainer of cool, powerful creatures to give those creatures head scritches and feed them cupcakes, you can bet I grabbed that opportunity with both hands.

why do we so often choose to do smaller, even ordinary, things, in these situations where it is just as easy, if not easier, to do great, big, awe-inspiring, impressive ones? when given the chance to be a hero of great renown wielding a sword of legends to save the entire world, why do I so often put doing that off to instead enjoy riding my horse through a sunny meadow? would you not expect the thing that I could never do in real life to hold more appeal and draw than something entirely possible, even ordinary?

well, that's obviously a hell of a deep psychological rabbit hole to go down, but I think part of it is this: games have a way of removing hidden obstacles. alright, and not-so-hidden obstacles, sure. if we look back at the Animal Crossing example, some of the obstacles the game removes are very. obvious. your loans have no interest or deadline, no consequence for failure. making money requires no resume, no qualifications, no applications, no stress, no fuss, nothing more than a butterfly net or fishing rod and some time to spare, at most. there are no taxes, no global warming, no troubling political news.

but there are smaller obstacles shaved off here and there as well. in the world of Animal Crossing it is not just big things that become more accessible, but also day to day things which in real life are often rendered accessible to achieve, but not to enjoy, because of the difficulties attached to them.

let's take gardening. a few posts back I talked about my own personal troubles with gardening: that it was something I did find enjoyment in, but also struggled with a great deal because ADHD presented so many challenges to doing it that I came to believe it was something I was simply inherently and permanently bad at. in Animal Crossing, on the other hand, most of those challenges don't exist. when you go to buy a plant, you always know exactly what it is. its needs are simple and straight-forward, and if the game doesn't tell you them then you can surely find them laid out clearly and easily with a quick visit to any of dozens of wikis and game info sites. there are clear signals included to help you carry out what you need to do. you can tell if you've watered a flower because it will sparkle. you can tell if a tree won't grow where you're trying to plant it, because the game will tell you so.

the gardening in Animal Crossing specifically is very simplistic. but it offers to you, and keeps, a promise which even games with more complicated requirements keep: here are the steps, here is the list of what you need to do, and if you do it right, something will grow, and grow well.

of course this also takes away some of the things that make the whole pastime worthwhile in real life. there is no sensation of digging your fingers into rich dirt, no fresh crop to pick and eat right off the stem. and seeing a pixel plant sprout and grow in stages will never quite compare to watching something very real and alive grow from a seed that you planted yourself. yet still I find distinct enjoyment in walking between the plots of my virtual garden in Animal Crossing, in raising virtual flowers and watching them bloom.

with some video games, I find the wish fulfillment to be as straight-forward as that: the emulation of an activity I want to do in real life, but find to be more difficult than enjoyable because of the obstacles associated with it. sometimes it's less direct. I have always enjoyed simulation and management games, games about building, cultivating, growing, raising, developing. but I've found myself particularly drawn to them over the past few years. building cities or kingdoms, running a large farm, managing a theme park or a zoo--there's great appeal there for me, even though I've never longed to pursue city planning or business management in the real world. but when things have felt at their most stagnant and hopeless, when I have felt unable to find any sign of progression or improvement in my own life, I have found comfort in being able to watch something grow, to put work in and see the results clear and apparent before me, however ephemeral those results are.

for me, I find that most often, the obstacles removed by doing something in a game mostly relate to the same thing: the struggle of planning, organizing and carrying out tasks, which is so often made so much easier when laid out for me as it is in a video game. it's a common criticism about some video games--sometimes, about the entire concept of video gaming--that playing them is essentially a matter of watching numbers go up. and, well, you've got me. it's true. I do like seeing numbers go up. I like seeing progress bars fill and skills unlock and quest objectives with check marks next to them. I like it because it's not something I get to experience much in real life: that sense of concrete progression, of knowing what I need to do and in what order I need to do it, of some acknowledgment and achievement for completing a task--yes, even if it is only a number going up! even if it is only a small cosmetic change, a new coat for my character, a section of map filling out, a pixel flower blooming on a pixel stem. better that than no sense of progress. better that than never really feeling sure if I've accomplished anything at all.

this is not something I always knew about myself. I've always liked video games, certainly, but thinking about the enjoyment I get out of them has gone hand in hand with learning more about how my own brain works. it's not only that video games can remove obstacles; by doing so, they can reveal to you that there were obstacles in places you never before realized. and there's value in that, I think. because sometimes it can show you that a problem you thought was in one place was actually in another place altogether. if something you think of as being boring, mundane, dull and exhausting becomes something you are willing and able to spend a lot of time and energy on, and get enjoyment out of, when it is framed in a different way--it may follow that the problem was not, as you thought, with the thing itself. the problem was in the obstacles around it.

of course, that's not always the case. the act of doing something in a game is often so thoroughly divorced from any semblance of doing it in real life that enjoying one has no bearing on enjoying the other. we play lots of games centered around doing things that most of us would never have any desire to do in real life. but sometimes it can lead you to discover that you enjoy things you didn't think you enjoyed, or are capable of doing things you didn't think you could do.

if nothing else, I think every single Animal Crossing island currently being developed, being visited, being joyfully and proudly shared online is evidence in the case against the idea that people fundamentally don't want to work and won't work if they don't have to. as is every painstakingly constructed Minecraft world, every Stardew Valley farm, every virtual city intricately planned, every virtual business budget carefully managed, every kingdom saved and map fully explored and character fully leveled and kitted out. because you don't do those things without putting time and concentration and effort into it. you just can't. it's not possible.

I think video games have a lot to tell us: about obstacles, and about effort, and about ourselves. some obstacles are incontrovertible, certainly. there are things built into the world which we can circumvent in video games but cannot, with all the best will in the world, change in our real lives. some things are always going to be more appealing virtually. my difficulties with gardening, for example, are always going to exist in some fashion because I cannot change the nature of how plants work. but knowing that something is an obstacle for you, and identifying why it is, can go a long way toward helping you figure out how to navigate around that obstacle, even if you can't remove it.

and sometimes when you realize that something is an obstacle, you realize that it doesn't need to be. that doesn't always translate to being able to do anything about it, of course. I doubt anyone needed Animal Crossing to tell them that home loans would be easier to repay without interest, and yet here we are. but I think there are a lot of things which we just sort of assume have to be difficult and boring and tiring and just thoroughly unenjoyable, because it is simply the nature of that thing, or the nature of us as people. nothing to do about it, just the way the world works.

sometimes that may be true. but surely not always.

I don't know.

but I will tell you this: by god, be proud of your virtual gardens.

they have worth.

#nonfiction #monday thing #monday thing may eighteenth

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atlantic-riona · 4 years ago

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modern Helen and Penelope, Sherlock, and Tempest Mac? (If you don't feel like doing all of these, please just pick your favorite--I'm just intrigued by ALL of these.)

ooh you managed to pick all the older ones! I am quite fond of these still, so I’ll do all three!

putting it all under a cut because it got quite long:

modern Helen and Penelope was a modern AU (as the name suggests), but there were still gods and magic and heroes, plus a bunch of other mythologies were included as well. basically, the plot sort of revolved around Helen, who’s going to be in an arranged marriage, deciding to abscond with Paris, which kicks off a whole bunch of other things (I don’t quite remember the details anymore, but I do distinctly remember that the Irish heroes got involved somehow, and the...uhhh...well, some other heroes got involved too but I never wrote any of their names down, so 😅). but it also revolved around Odysseus and Penelope falling in love, which I’m a sucker for. in honor of that, here’s the part I wrote with Odysseus:

Her heart skips a beat as she realizes who she’s looking at, and she hastens to finish before Helen catches on. “With—what’s his name, Odysseus, I think.”

“The island king’s son?” Helen sounds disinterested, and Penelope silently thanks any gods listening. “I can’t remember—is he one of the good-looking ones? They’ve all become a blur.”

“He—” Penelope’s tongue, usually so nimble, stutters to a halt. All she has to do is say no, and her cousin will move on. But she can’t bring herself to lie. Not about him.

Helen watches with growing interest as Penelope makes a few inarticulate sounds before subsiding into a blushing silence. “You know what? Maybe I should refresh my memory. Come on, cuz.”

She strides away, moving with easy confidence as Penelope, her stomach filled with dread, follows.

Her cousin has the ability to be seen or to be Seen. In other words, there are times like now, where the two of them pass through crowds with barely a second glance from anyone, and then there are times when Helen is the center of any room she walks into. And she can switch back and forth with ease.

Odysseus and his friend are bent over a table covered with hastily drawn maps and pretzels acting as soldiers. Someone nearby laughs, loudly, and her heart pounds in her ears. Odysseus is shorter than the other boy, but has broader shoulders. Recklessly, Penelope decides that despite the other boy’s good looks and easy smile, Odysseus has a far better smirk. Neither of them look up as the girls approach.

“So you see, the king really ought to have placed his troops there.”

“Ah, but have you considered,” says Odysseus, picking up another pretzel and eating it, “that the river was too exposed for a stand against the invaders? At the time, the forest seemed the better option.”

Helen leans over to look at the maps. “Goodness,” she says airily, as if the very sight of the battle maps are too much for her, although Penelope has played enough strategy games with her cousin to know that Helen would wipe the floor with anyone at this table, not including Penelope herself. “All those pieces look so very lonely. Surely you cannot win a war with so few soldiers?”

“Well, they represent battalions, not individual soldiers,” says Odysseus absently, and then he looks up.

From the way that he and his friend become still, it’s clear that Helen wishes to be Seen. They’re transfixed, the way one stares at a comet or tornado. Penelope might as well be the air, for all they see her.

In a fair world, Penelope might have been considered beautiful.

In that world, Helen would have to not exist.

As it is, Penelope contents herself with being considered wise beyond her years, although wisdom seems a poor consolation prize in moments like these.

“Helen,” Odysseus says finally. He clears his throat. “Aren’t you supposed—”

She reaches out and covers his hand with her own. “Oh, that. Being cooped up all day is no fun, I tell you. So I convinced Penelope to take me here with her.” Odysseus’ gaze drifts to Penelope. He has very lovely brown eyes. Helen clearly doesn’t care for the shift in his attention, for she laughs prettily and Penelope does not exist again. “Let’s keep this our little secret, shall we? And by that I mean don’t tell my father.”

Odysseus nods slowly. He looks around, up, down, and finally settles on asking, “Won’t you sit down?”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtful,” Helen says, and promptly does. The other boy does as well, which leaves only the one seat—Odysseus’.

“You and Penelope will have to share,” Helen observes, sharp gaze trained on her cousin.

Penelope takes a deep breath. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

may actually pick this one up in the future, idk

Sherlock was a mini-play I wrote for my high school; they were doing a play (with Sherlock Holmes) that needed a “fake start,” one that was really ridiculous, so I wrote one for them that I thought might fit the bill. I have a lot of favorite ridiculous moments but here are a few:

SHERLOCK (abruptly): How’s Mary?

WATSON: //children...oh, Mary’s fine, she’s fine - so’s Henry’s two little sisters, Emma and Jane. Right terrors they are. Twin disasters, you might say. (He chuckles.)

SHERLOCK: Twins?

WATSON: How did you -

SHERLOCK: Your enjoyment in that atrocious and badly delivered pun gave up the game.

HENRY: The kids nowadays call that a dad joke.

---

HOLMES: You took your time slinking out from the woodwork again, my old enemy.

MORIARTY looks embarrassed.

MORIARTY: I had to make tenure. My apologies for delaying our little games, Holmes.

HOLMES: Quite understandable. You cad.

MORIARTY: I deserved that one, I’m afraid. But not anymore than that, Holmes!

HOLMES: I apologize. I had to get it out of my system.

MORIARTY: Of course.

---

HOLMES: To answer your question…

He realizes that he doesn’t know her name.

HOLMES: ...er, dear, Moriarty is in fact about to offer us tea.

MORIARTY: Quite right. I put the kettle on before you woke up. Two sugars as usual, Holmes?

HOLMES: Once again you try to trick me, old enemy. You know perfectly well that I drink it black.

MORIARTY snaps his fingers.

MORIARTY: Foiled again, Holmes!

it was meant to be really bad, because Holmes (the real one for the play) comes out and demands to know what Watson (the real one for the play) is writing, at which point the actual play would start 😂😂

Tempest Mac is, I think, the only sci-fi story I’ve ever written?? it’s about this little girl in the future, in space, who’s Catholic and who meets an alien, while also solving important mysteries (like where the cookie jar went 😂😂)

that...was pretty much all the plot I had planned out, I think

but here’s what I had:

Someone had moved the cookie jar again.

Tempest Mac made a thoughtful face as she considered the scene of the crime. Then she went and fetched a tall stool, a flashlight, and a thick book detailing the customs and mannerisms of the Hazien people (which she was only a quarter of the way through, having only started at breakfast this morning). One never knew what might come in handy.

Just as she had gotten the book settled in place on the countertop, with one foot balanced neatly on the stool and the other on the book, and was peering into the highest cupboard with the flashlight, a shrill, startled voice rang out behind her. “Tempest! What on Earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Finding the cookie jar, Aunti,” Tempest replied calmly, still shining the flashlight into the cupboard. In addition, they weren’t on Earth, they were on Haz—a few hundred lightyears away—so really, Aunti should have said, ‘What on Haz do you think you’re doing?’ but she knew when to let things go. “Somebody’s moved it again.”

“You don’t need a cookie right now, you’ve just had lunch,” her aunt scolded, lifting her off the stool and onto the ground without hardly any effort. “Wait until after dinner.”

“I don’t want a cookie, I want to know who keeps moving the cookie jar,” Tempest protested, but Aunti paid her no heed and sent her out of the kitchen to water the small garden out back.

Tempest Mac was six years old, small of stature, and what some people referred to as ‘precocious.’ Tempest gently argued with these people that no, she wasn’t precocious, she simply thought thoughts in a sensible way. Nevertheless, her grave eyes, quiet way of asking commonsense questions, and aptitude at reading far above her age level made the debate moot, as far as people were concerned.

Most people would rather chalk up things and people who don’t appear to make sense at first as anomalies, rather than investigate further. But then, this is because many people see the world like a black ink stamp pattern on a clean sheet of paper—easy, simple and pretty, in an orderly, bureaucratic sort of way. If the world is ordered and lovely in its organization, then so too can lives and people be the same way. If the world is a jumbled, chaotic, sloppy finger-painting done by an overenthusiastic four year old, then it is much harder for people to convince themselves that their lives may be ordered and simplistic. Such is life.

There’s a reason “Aunti” is spelled the way it is, but for the life of me I can’t remember why

#ask #my writing #I hadn't read the Sherlock one in years and I'd forgotten all about it 😂

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ebaeschnbliah · 5 years ago

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SCANDINAVIAN REFERENCES

________________________________________________________________

In Sherlock BBC - and also a little bit outside of it

While writing on DISTRACTION & CONSEQUENCES and CABIN ON THE MEADOW, involving Phil with his ‘explosive’ car and the Hiker with the bashed-in head, I couldn’t fail to notice that Phil’s unmoving car is a SAAB … which is a Swedish brand.

According to the informations given during the promotion campaingn for the Escapre Room, TheGameIsNow, Sherlock lives currently in Sweden. Since these aren’t the only occasions where Scandinavian regions are mentioned in Sherlock BBC, the suspicion inevitably arose that those references could be of some importance. Reason enough to make another little list. :)

TBC below the cut ….

Short definition of Scandinavia

The term Scandinavia in local usage covers the three kingdoms of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

In English usage, Scandinavia also sometimes refers to the Scandinavian Peninsula, or to the broader region including Finland and Iceland. x

A Scandal in Belgravia

As mentioned above, Phil’s immobile car, which ‘explodes’ and thus distracts the Hiker who, as a consequence, is killed by his own boomerang, is of the Swedish brand SAAB.

The Empty Hearse

Mr. Howard Shilcott, the ‘train guy (and mirror for Sherlock), possesses important informations about the Underground station at Sumatra Road, which once was built but then closed before it ever opened. He wears a ‘funny hat with earflaps’ made of Islandic sheep wool. That hat becomes an object of significance when Sherlock invites his brother to play deductions with him, just like in the old days.

MYCROFT: The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he’s worn it abroad – in Peru. SHERLOCK: Peru? MYCROFT: This is a chullo – the classic headgear of the Andes. It’s made of alpaca. SHERLOCK: No. MYCROFT: No? SHERLOCK: Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you’re looking for. I’ve written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibres.

His Last Vow

The main villain of this episode is designed after Doyle’s British character Charles Augustus Milverton. For some reason, in this adaptation, name and origin of the man have been changed into Charles Augustus Magnussen, who is now from Denmark. The fact that he is ‘foreign’ is driven home explicitly right at the beginning of the episode by the dialogue as well as the accent of the man, who is played by Danish actor Lars Mikkelsen.

GARVIE: Do you think it right that a newspaper proprietor, a private individual and, in fact, a foreign national should have such regular access to our Prime Minister? MAGNUSSEN: I don’t think it’s wrong that a private individual should accept an invitation. However, you have my sincere apologies for being foreign.

The Six Thatchers

Mr. Kingsley, a client, thinks that Sherlock’s deductions, once explained, are actually dead simple. Highly annoyed, Sherlock spontaneously invents a ludicrous story and tells the shocked man that his wife is actually Greta Bengtsdotter, Swedish by birth and the most dangerous spy in the world. She secretly works for none other than James Moriarty and uses her unsuspecting husband as cover to hide her true intentions which will finally precipitate in World War III.

The first location Mary visits on her hiatus is Norddal in Norway. That’s a small place (ca. 1660 inhabitants) deep inside the Storfjord. Here she picks up a fake passport hidden inside the stonewall of a coastal watchtower. Her new name, Gabrielle Ashdown, is taken from TPLOSH, where Holmes chooses the pseudonym ‘Mr. and Mrs. Ashdown’ for himself and Gabrielle Valladon, the woman who consulted him in the case of her missing husband but is actually Ilse von Hofmannsthal, a German spy who pretends to be Mrs. Valladon.

The Final Problem

One of the very last scenes of this episode shows a man dressed as Viking, including the (cliched) horned helmet. He lies motionless on the floor in the livingroom of 221b Baker Street (played by Paul Weller). John bends over him and examines his left eye.

Vikings were highly skilled Norse seafarers who raided and pillaged (like pirates) with their infamous longboats (also well known as dragonboats). They acted as mercenaries but also as merchants, who traded goods across wide areas of Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, European Russia and the North Atlantic islands. Some of them even reached the North-Eastern coast of North America. (X)

That Viking is not the only character in this story who ‘wears horns’. Furthermore, cow horns are also connected to the eye-goddess Hathor, whose other, dangerous side is represented by lioness goddess Sekhmet.

The way this Viking lays there … one leg sharply angled at the knee, the foot shoved beneath the other, outstretched leg and both arms straight beside his torso … it’s a bit odd and strangely reminds me of the ‘dancing men’ drawn on the blackboard in the shot displayed immediately before this one. It almost looks like the way this man lies there could have some meaning.

And something else comes to mind: the way John bends over the Viking stunningly resembles the scene from Magnussen’s office in HLV, when Sherlock got shot by Mary. One could even say, there are three potential ‘pirates’ gathered in Magnusson’s bedroom in that scene ... Sherlock, John and ‘Viking descendent’ Magnussen. Interesting ...

The Game is Now - Escape Room Promotion

With the cliffhanger of The Final Problem in mind and still no official announcement regarding a fifth series on the horizon, one could come to the assumption that the ‘TheGameIsNow- EscapeRoom’ event serves as a sort of interlude and somehow resembles a ‘SherlockBBC-Hiatus’ (hopefully). Isn’t it interesting that here too, Scandinavia seems to play a role?

During the conversation with Mycroft, in the intercepted message Nr 1, Sherlock mentions that he currently is in Sweden.

During the intercepted message Nr 2 a map of Scandinavia is shown in the background with informations regarding its natural recources: iron ore, copper, zinc, gold, IKEA and uranium.

Additionally Mycroft confirms a second time where his brother might be found at the moment: ‘Missing, rumoured to be in Sweden’ is written below a picture of Sherlock, kept in black and white, but temporarily overlaid with pink and green (Study in Pink and Green)

Scandinavian canon reference regarding the ‘hiatus’

In Doyle’s original story The Empty House, Sherlock Holmes tells Dr. Watson after their reunion that, for some time during his hiatus, he had stayed in Norway under a fake identity.

“You may have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred to you that you were receiving news of your friend.” (ACD, The Empty House)

Using Sherlock’s own words from The Great Game, one could say that, by now, the story told in Sherlock BBC as well as the EscapeRoom event have a … ‘distinctly Scandinavian feeling about it’. :)

Some Scandinavian side notes outside Sherlock BBC

Not Sherlock related. Should be taken with caution and humor:

Radio Times, November 2018: Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss reveale that Danish actor Claes Bang will be playing Dracula in their new series. ‘Hell has a new boss’ says the headline. Strictly speaking, the boss in Hell is generally considered to be the Devil (maybe also his grandma :) but surely not Dracula, who is after all just a human who desired immortal strength to protect and revenge the ones whom he loved. At least, that’s the story told in ….

Dracula Untold (2014) - some quotes:

"One day I will call on you to serve me in an immortal game of revenge … to unleash my wrath against the one who betrayed me."

“This is not a game!”

"Oh, what better way to endure eternity. For this, is the ultimate game. Light versus dark, hope versus despair. And all the world's fate hangs into the balance."

Vlad Dracula meets his creator Let the games begin

“You want me to shake hands with you in Hell? I shall not disappoint you.“ (Sherlock at Jim Moriarty, TRF)

How Dracula BBC came into being

“It came about several years ago,” Gatiss said. “We were filming — we’d just started the third series of Sherlock, where he comes back from the dead, and we had to break off after two days to go to the RTS Awards (March, 2013) and I had a picture on my phone of Benedict silhouetted against the door of Mrs Hudson’s room. I showed it to Ben Stephenson, who was then the Head of Drama [at the BBC], and I said, ‘Looks like Dracula’. And he said, ‘Do you want to do it?'” (RadioTimes, April 2019)

“We’re gonna go all Dane“

The same article from RadioTimes, contains an interview with Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. When asked about their upcomming mini-series ‘Dracula’, if there will be more ‘homegrown talents’ among the cast, the producers answered the question in their most familiar way - with lots of laughter and giggling - obviously taking much pleasure in the announcement of their new ‘informations’.

“No, no ..., it’s strictly Dane from now on. We're only casting over Denmark. I don’t think Denmark’s being sufficiently represented and so we’re gonna go all Dane.”

Strictly Danes …. well, well …. I’m more curious than ever ... and extremely exited! :))))

On Scandinavian name-giving tradition

It is a well known custom in Scandinavian regions to create personal names based on the given name of one’s father, grandfather or male ancestor by adding the ending -son/-sen/-søn or -dotter/-dottir/-dattir. This is called a patronymic (while the same method based on the mother’s name is called matronymic). A good example for this in Sherlock BBC is the character Charles Augustus Magnussen …. Magnus-sen = son of Magnus.

This kind of Scandinavian name-giving tradition is based entirely on first names. Just assuming though, this method would also be applied to last names, then ... a female descendent of someone with the family name ‘Bang’ could be named ... ‘Bangsdotter’. :)))

A last funny detail: the subtitles for Sherlock BBC, Series 4 (British Edition), display the name of the famous Swedish spy, Sherlock invents in TST, as Greta Bengsdotter. The correct spelling of the first name of Greta’s father (used here as patronymic) isn’t Beng though …. but Bengt.

Bengt (female, Bengta) is the Swedish equivalent of … Benedict. :)))

As I said above ... to be taken with caution and humor. :)))))

Thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts. Related post by @tendergingergirl

Mai 2019

#scandinavian references #sherlock bbc #the game is now #escape room #scandinavia #sweden #norway #denmark #iceland #dracula untold #hell has a new boss #let the games begin #this is not a game #vlad dracula

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fenrir-drifter · 5 years ago

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Inktober and projects updates

Edit: I dont know how to put a cut in a post on mobile. Sorry for the wall of text.

I'm getting super behind. Sometimes I can sketch stuff out, but I dont feel like inking it. Idk. I got the time, can't go back to work still, still looking for something new and better.

Shadow, Cyan, and Gau are all ready to be inked. Terra, Locke, Edgar, Sabin, and Celes are all done. I'm debating about when to post them here. Maybe do two batches of six drawings. I won't be drawing Umaro or Gogo until the very end, and that's also a big maybe. Maybe add General Leo and Kefka to that list too. After I get Setzer, Strago, Relm, and Mog inked, I'll start working on the Chrono Trigger cast.

As far as personal projects go, I've kind of taking a break from all of them. Between Inktober, stressing about bills and when I can go back to work, finding another/new job, and painting, it's hard to find time. Especially when you lump anxiety, depression, and RL chores and surprises into all of that.

The Witch's son - I had originally planned for this to be a webcomic and I have the plot outline more or less finished. I just got hung up on environment art and character designs. That being said though, I also have to rewrite the entire outline because I changed one key character for another. But really, those changes will be minimal. The biggest issue holding me back is probably a lack of confidence of my drawing ability for comics. After the character art and reference sheets are done, I need to thumbnail the entire outline, and work on paneling. I think I can do it, I'm just too nervous. On top of that I also keep thinking about prequel and sequel ideas, but I know I need to focus on this one project. My ultimate goal right now is to just get the prologue done. If it looks good and it gets some attention, then I'll keep working on it, if not then I'll come back later when I feel better about my drawing ability and work on it some more.

The Dirigible - I haven't worked on this project in years, and I don't know what I want it to be. I had thought about setting it in the same world as the witch's son, just to cut down world-building, locations, and all that, but I'm not 100% sure yet. I don't know if I want this to be a comic, or a short story, or a novel, or something else.

Fenrir Drifter - I've been doing some world building for this for quite a bit, but I'm getting hung up on key details that may or may not be relevant, I'm not sure yet. Things like race, origin stories, and deities. I had originally planned for there to be four races: human, dwarf, elf, and a winged race (like from Breath of Fire), but then I wanted to add an ancestor race to give the world more depth. My four main races would have evolved from these races and these four races were created by four Guardian deities who were in turn created by the Divine Beings (Gods) of the world. The ancestor races we're going to be more animalistic than normal, but I was having issues with that. The elves were going to evolve from a race of deer-men that I had called Wakiti, the winged race (which I have called the Wyn race) was going to evolve from a race of birds who live on floating islands (called the Seva), and I was going to have humans evolved from a race of wolfmen, and dwarves evolved from a race of black bears.

But I'm not really sure about any of this now.

I also had a magic system in place that would mimic some ideas from Saga Frontier 2, where magic is a natural life force that's in everything and sometimes condensed in physical objects called quells. These quells could be anything from a necklace to an axe, a suit of armor, or a ring. I would have divine quells that are direct blessings from the four Guardian deities. On top of this I would have a champion of each deity who would wield a quell.

I was also working on a world map, but I got bogged down in that too because I wasn't sure, everything looks too perfect, too clean. On top of this I had issues determining history, I don't like the idea of any race being evil, that just parallels racism in the real world imo. But I know it's not true because you could make a race of monsters and they would just be that, literal monsters. But I had issues with their creation, because every diving bring (god and guardian) is good. I didn't want to corrupt any of them either. I'll figure it out though, in due time, I'm sure.

Castlevania 1 hand drawn guide - My main goal is to just get stage 1 complete. A fully rendered map with every item and secret marked, custom art for monsters and bosses, tips for bosses, a splash art for the stage, and some other things. It's basically a glorified Players Guide/Manual. I got the idea from a guy that made guides like this for Contra, Ninja Gaiden, and is working on a Legend of Zelda guide. Really cool and inspiring stuff, imo.

I also have some ideas for altering some FF6 stuff and making it a custom story. After I read Seven Blades in Black, I felt really inspired to write again, and take my own twists on things. Along with that, I'm reading the Witcher books and replaying Witcher 3, and I want to write some fanfic with my own OC Witcher of the Griffin School.

Aside from that, watercolor landscapes still happen, but not very often. I haven't posted any of them anywhere yet though. I kind of want to build a backlog, I'm also feeling kind of both gunshy and disheartened about posting stuff anymore. Trying to power through that for Inktober.

Idk, felt good to ramble for a bit like that. I don't do it anymore and can't really do it on Twitter without feeling guilty for spamming people. Health's okay, still healing from surgery. Mostly just mental and social issues at this point. There might even be a chance that my student loan will be completely wiped out. If I could just fix my car (hit a deer), find my cat, and seek therapy, things would be too good to be true, lol.

One step at a time.

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worryinglyinnocent · 6 years ago

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Fic: Reconstructing Claire

Summary: Lost fic. After their escape from the island, whilst getting ready to rejoin society, Kate and Claire begin the process of putting a very broken Claire back together again. In doing so, they perhaps put Kate back together again as well.

Post-finale, canon compliant. No ships, but mentions of past Jack/Kate.

Rated: T

=====

Reconstructing Claire

The plane is in the air, and they are almost free of the island. Claire is holding Kate’s hand so tightly she’s almost cutting off the circulation, but in that moment, Kate doesn’t care. They’ve done it. They’ve all lost so much, but this is going to be the end of the losses. This is going to be a new beginning; Kate is sure of it.

As they continue to fly on, however, the first doubts begin to creep in. Where are they going to land? How are they going to explain to the authorities at whatever airport they land at where the Ajira plane has been ever since it disappeared over the middle of the Pacific a week ago? How are they going to explain Claire and James when they were both declared dead three years ago? What about Miles and Richard? What’s going to happen to Frank? Will the plane even hold together long enough to get them anywhere?

Kate is not one for panicking – she never has been. She gets scared, she gets so scared that she’s paralysed by it, but blind panic is not usually her thing. Still, Jack taught her how to get rid of her fear. She closes her eyes, returns the pressure of Claire’s hand, and counts to five.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

She exhales, calm again, movement returning to her limbs as clarity returns to her mind.

“Claire, honey?”

Claire opens her eyes and looks over at Kate. She looks just as fearful as Kate feels.

“I’m gonna see what’s going on, ok?”

Claire nods and lets go of the iron grip on her hand, and Kate unfastens her seatbelt, carefully making her way up towards the cockpit. Richard follows her.

“Frank, where are we headed?” she asks, at the same time as Richard asks: “Frank, can we make it to Guam?”

“Kate, I have no idea where we’re headed other than away from the island, and Richard, we can possibly make it to Guam as soon as I work out where the hell we actually are.”

“I can work out where we are,” Richard says, and sourcing a pencil from God only knows where in the cockpit, he begins to scribble math on the back of the plane’s electrical diagrams, still on the co-pilot’s seat from their frantic repair works. Kate can tell that it’s going to take a while, but she doesn’t want to go back to Claire without some kind of an action plan.

“Hey, Freckles.”

She turns to see James hanging over her shoulder.

“You know, watching them ain’t gonna get us there any quicker.”

“I know.” She lets James guide her back to the first row of seats to allow Richard and Frank to work in peace.

“I know you’re worried about her,” James says. Kate glances back at Claire. Her eyes are closed again but it’s clear from the deep frown line between her brows and the way her fingers are digging into the arm rests with white knuckles that she’s not asleep.

“I can’t relax until she’s back home with her mom, James. We got off the island, but how the hell are we going to get home?”

“Somehow,” James replies. There’s sheer grit and determination in his voice.

Kate feels the plane bank to one side and her eyes dart to the cockpit. Richard appears to be giving Frank directions from a map that’s hand-drawn and hardly to scale. It doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

Miles comes up to join them. “So, what’s happening?”

“We’re attempting to go to Guam,” James says. “I think.”

“Right. Does anyone have any idea where we’re actually headed?”

“As long as it’s not straight down, Miles, I really don’t care.” James sighs. “I think Guyliner’s got it.”

Richard comes out of the cockpit.

“We’re headed to Guam,” he says. “We have a safehouse there beside the Dharma packing plant that the supply drops come from. No need to worry about customs or security.”

“I sense a ‘but’,” James says shrewdly.

“We usually travel there by sub. It doesn’t exactly have a runway.”

Kate’s eyes widen. Three plane crashes in as many years and two in as many weeks are more than enough for anyone.

“Have we got enough fuel to get there?” Miles asks.

“Well, if we haven’t, then we’ll be swimming there,” Frank calls from the cockpit. “Richard, get back in here! I’m flying blind!”

Richard ducks back into the cockpit and the other passengers go back to their seats. There’s nothing more that they can do.

Kate goes and sits back down next to Claire.

“Where are we going?” she asks. It’s the first time she’s spoken since she agreed to come on the plane with them.

“Guam.”

“I don’t have my passport,” Claire says.

“Neither do I.” It was fake anyway; she can’t exactly leave the country when she’s not allowed to leave the state. “Richard says that we won’t need them though. We’re heading to one of the Others’ safehouses.”

It’s the word safe that does it. Claire gives Kate a tiny, brittle smile.

“We’ll never be safe, Kate,” she says, and Kate’s heart breaks at the sadness in her voice.

“We will be,” she says firmly, although she obviously can’t know that for sure. “I’ll protect you, Claire. I said that I would get you and Aaron reunited and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Claire’s still unconvinced, but there’s nothing else that Kate can do for her yet. Not until they land. She leans back in her seat and stares out of the window. They’re free from the island but they still have so far to go.

It’s a tense journey, but then land is in sight and the plane is in sharp descent.

“Ladies and gents, it’s going to be a very bad landing,” Frank announces from the cockpit, circling and circling the little sheds and the patch of concrete that serves as a pallet and drone take-off and landing station. At least it’s next to an open expanse of field and a road that appears to be deserted.

“Hold onto your heads!” Frank yells.

Kate and Claire brace against the impact and as they touch down on the field, Kate’s teeth rattle in her skull, spots dancing in front of her eyes. She doesn’t move a muscle, waiting until they’re at a complete standstill before cautiously looking around. Claire’s still got her hands over her head between her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

“Claire, honey, we’re here. It’s ok.”

Claire uncurls herself and looks out of the window. Two men in Dharma jumpsuits are approaching cautiously, and Richard races through the plane, throwing open the door and scrambling down the makeshift ladder. Kate can’t make out what they’re saying but everyone, including Frank, is crowding around the windows in this section of the fuselage, looking for any signs of trouble. Not that any of them are in a position to do anything if things do go south, but it’s good to have warning if nothing else.

After what feels like an age, the Dharma men head back towards the buildings and Richard turns to the plane, giving them two thumbs up and beckoning to them to join him on the ground.

Claire gives a small but genuine smile, and Kate returns it. The first hurdle has been negotiated. Only who knows how many more to go.

II.

The safehouse is small, all the better to keep it safe, Kate supposes. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living room and an open plan kitchen-diner which is stuffed to the rafters with Dharma shelf stable food. Kate didn’t realise just how long it was since she last ate until she sees a box of cookies and her stomach growls ominously. In that moment, everything seems secondary to food, and the five of them visiting the safehouse for the first time sit around the kitchen counter, silently sating their hunger with whatever the hell they feel like but mostly sugar. Richard is going around making sure that the water and electrics are turned on and generally being the one in charge. It’s funny, Kate had always assumed that he would have the most trouble adapting to life off the island out of all of them, having spent so long there, but then again, they’re not really off the island yet. This is a neat and safe little haven of Others’ culture in the outside world, so he doesn’t have to brave society just yet.

Claire is still nervy as she eats, her eyes darting here, there and everywhere as she scarfs down granola bars as if they’re going out of fashion. Considering there’s a literal ton of food in the warehouse next door, Kate doesn’t think that they’re likely to run out any time soon.

At least the rest of the group aren’t looking at Claire as if she’s going to pull a knife on them at any moment. She left all her knives on the island for a start, and now she’s more scared of them than they are of her. They’re all returning to a social mindset that they never left, despite being displaced from that society physically. Claire did leave it, and the return is going to be tricky at best and damn near impossible at worst, but Kate refuses to believe that it is going to be entirely impossible.

Richard wanders in and out of the kitchen, talking to about five different people at once on two different phones. Maybe he’s calling Ben’s lawyer in LA to get all the legal difficulties smoothed over.

“Looks like we might be holed up in here for a while,” James says, wiping the cookie crumbs off his shirt and standing up. “Might as well explore our new home.”

There’s not a whole hell of a lot to explore so he’s soon back in the kitchen, but he has unearthed some spare clothes for them. The garments smell old and musty, and have a distinctly nineties vibe about them. Kate wonders if anyone’s used this safehouse within the last decade.

She bags one of the bedrooms for herself and Claire, and James and Miles call the other one. Frank’s just so happy to be away from the island that he’s content with the couch and it looks like Richard is going to be on the phone all night anyway, so he’s left out of the negotiations. Then they start to draw straws as to who gets to use the shower first, and great hilarity breaks out when sharing to conserve water is suggested. It’s good to see Claire laughing again, even if it is not as loud or as hard as the others.

“I’ll go last,” she says. “I think I’m going to take the longest to get clean. My clothes can probably stand up on their own.”

Kate knows that she isn’t just talking about dirt, though. Claire’s done so much in these last three years that she’s not proud of, horrific things in the misguided hope of reuniting with Aaron because Not-Locke has been pouring poison into her ears and no-one was around to save her or help her to save herself. Kate wonders why he wanted Claire so badly, out of all of them. He wanted her maternal rage and lack of scruples when it came to protecting her child, certainly, but even after they all came back and even after Aaron’s safety was revealed, he was determined to keep her with him, warning Kate against taking her back to society. He was practically desperate for Kate not to take Claire away from him. She’s crazy now, she’s dangerous, he said, as if he hadn’t been the one responsible for getting her into that unstable state in the first place.

Kate shivers at the thought of his obsession and what it might mean, and turns her attention back to Claire. It’s over, he’s dead, and Claire is finally safe from him.

It’s late into the night by the time everyone’s taken their turn and Richard and Frank have launched a covert mission to the warehouse to source more towels, soap and shampoo, but Kate is nowhere close to sleep. Claire emerges from the steamy bathroom in an ill-fitting t-shirt and jeans that she has to keep hitching up. She’s so small and skinny. Kate had forgotten just how short she was, and now that the softness of new motherhood has given way to years of hardship, she’s just so small. Kate wants to wrap her in blankets and not let the world touch her.

It’s been a spiritual cleanse as well as a physical one for Claire. Kate heard her crying below the trickle of the shower, and her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, but Kate doesn’t mention it. As much as she wants to hover and protect, Claire needs space as much as anyone else, perhaps moreso.

Although she’s clean now, her hair is still a messy bird’s nest, matted into one solid dreadlock at the back that water and shampoo have no hope of penetrating.

“Cutting it feels like giving up,” Claire says. “It feels like he’s won. It feels like I’m giving up that last part of who I was before.”

Kate thinks about Claire and her golden hair, always so long and lovely. Hair of gold, heart of gold.

She shakes her head. “Think of it as cutting off this part of your life,” she suggests. “Think of it more like a fresh start. It’ll grow again, and then you’ll be back to the person that you were before.”

“Yeah.” Claire pauses. “I’d like to keep as much of it as I can, though.”

Kate laughs. “Ok. Let’s see what we can do. Do you trust me? Near your neck with scissors and a comb?”

Claire nods. “Yes.” To give her credit, ever since that attack back in the forest and their making up after, Claire has not shown any sign of not trusting Kate.

The matted ponytail has to go, there’s no salvaging it. But an hour’s patient work with a comb straightens out the bird’s nest until it’s a dry, brittle, but tangle-free cloud curling around her ears. Claire gives Kate a half-hearted smile in the mirror.

“Thank you.”

“No worries.”

They continue to sit in the dimly lit room in silence, one at either end of the bed, both too keyed up from the day’s events to sleep.

“Mayo,” Claire says suddenly.

“Pardon?”

“Mayonnaise.” A soft smile creeps over her face and for a moment she looks like the Claire that Kate first met on the beach, proclaiming her to be a Gemini. “It’s supposed to be a really good conditioning treatment for your hair.”

Kate laughs, not at the notion of mayonnaise as a conditioner, she’s heard similar claims before, but at the thought that Claire is still in there under all the fear and hardship. Now that she no longer has to watch her back all the time, a bit of that is bleeding through.

“All right,” she says. “Let’s find some mayo.”

Of course there’s mayo. The house is next to a Dharma packing plant, they have vats of the stuff. Claire smears it over what remains of her hair and deftly wraps her head in clingfilm and a towel.

“What?” she asks on seeing Kate looking at her.

“Nothing. It’s just you. Being girly like the old Claire.”

“Yeah.” Her smile fades. “I have to cling to whatever shades of that I can get now.”

“You’ll be ok,” Kate says. “You’ll come through this, I promise.”

There’s a knock on their door.

“Who is it?”

“Me.” It’s James’ voice. “I know you’re awake, I heard you talking.”

Kate and Claire look at each other and Claire nods; Kate goes over to let him in.

“You don’t mind me butting in on your girl talk? Miles is snoring so loud I can’t hear myself think.” He wrinkles his nose. “Why does it smell like mayo in here?”

“Claire’s trying to rescue her hair,” Kate says. James just stares at her in disbelief, because is that supposed to explain everything?

“With mayo?” he asks incredulously, and shakes his head. “I will never understand women.”

Kate snorts. “There are many things that I could say to that, James, but I won’t.”

They talk quietly for a little while, mainly expressing relief at being off the island. Claire goes to wash her hair again and the smell of mayo gradually fades. Maybe James is worried that Claire’s going to kill Kate in her sleep but as Kate finally feels exhaustion overtake her and she can’t help curling up and closing her eyes, she hears him say his goodnights and leave the room.

Claire’s weight on the bed doesn’t shift, and she’s still sitting wide awake when Kate stirs an hour or so later.

III.

When Kate wakes up the next morning – or perhaps afternoon, she’s got no idea how long she slept and she doesn’t know what time zone she’s in and she’s not entirely sure she’s in 2007 – Claire is gone from their room. It’s light outside, bright and sunny and so ill-reflecting of their loss. Tiptoeing out of the room, she sees who else is up and about, but it seems like it’s only Richard, outside on the phone again. How many calls does he need to make? Surely the Others have some kind of phone tree network they can activate when things go bad. Like, Jacob dying and his insane brother nearly wreaking destruction upon the earth bad.

Suddenly there’s a high-pitched scream and Kate reacts in an instant, rushing downstairs with James and Miles. It’s only halfway down that she realises that scream wasn’t Claire’s at all, but male.

“We’re ok!” Frank exclaims as they all bundle into the living room. Claire is peering over the back of the sofa and Frank has his hand on his heart. “We’re ok, we just gave each other a fright, that’s all.”

Kate doesn’t question why Claire is behind the sofa.

“Well, I guess we’re all awake now,” Miles says after a long, screamingly uncomfortable silence. “I’ll see if there are any Dharma powdered eggs for breakfast. You know, when we got off the island I thought that we were finally going to see the back of Dharma food. Man, I can’t wait to get out of this place…” He’s still complaining as he heads into the kitchen. Frank, recovered from his scare, just rolls his eyes and follows him.

“Miles, you should be grateful that there is Dharma food and that we’re not all in the middle of an underground government facility being experimented on.”

Left with just Kate and James, Claire extricates herself from behind the sofa and sits down on it. Her eyes are hard and challenging and daring them to chastise her. James accepts the challenge.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hisses. “You damn near gave all of us a heart attack!”

“James.”

Kate’s touch on his arm calms him and he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” he says. “I know you’ve been through hell and I can’t hope to understand what it was like.”

“I’m used to hiding,” Claire mumbles. “When I was in the jungle, when they were hunting me, I had to hide. All the time. I don’t feel safe if I’m not hidden.” She pauses. “There wasn’t enough room under the bed.”

Kate crosses the room and sits on the sofa beside Claire, putting an arm around her as she stares down into her lap.

“I’m never going to be normal again, am I?” she asks quietly. “He took my mind and now he’s dead and he can’t give it back. What’s Aaron going to think of a mother who hides behind the sofa every night? What if…?”

“Stop,” Kate soothes her. “No more what ifs. You will get better, Claire. We will all help you. I’m here, I’ll help. Your mom’s out there, she’ll help.”

“My mum? That’s impossible, she’s in a coma, has been for years.”

“No. She’s awake, and she’s made an amazing recovery. She’s looking after Aaron right now.”

Claire just stares at her in disbelief for a long time, but then she crumples in Kate’s arms, loud, wailing, racking sobs that make her entire body shake.

“All the things I never thought I’d get the chance to say,” she manages to get out between sobs and hiccups. “All those years and I can finally say sorry…”

Kate rubs her back. “You will get better, and you will see your mom again,” she says firmly. “And you will be able to say all of those things to her in person.”

Claire nods.

“Don’t let him win, Claire,” James says. Kate had forgotten that he was still in the room with them. He’s finally come to the realisation that Claire isn’t acting this way for no reason, and that she’s been motivated by blind fear for so long that it’s a hard mindset to get out of. “You can’t let your past control your future. Believe me, I know all about that and you’ve got a few more years’ future than I have so make the most of it.”

Claire nods again, managing the tiniest of weak little laughs.

“I need a minute,” she says.

Kate lets go of her and follows James out of the room.

“Thank you,” she says, closing the door after them and giving Claire some privacy.

“Yeah, well, all this time I’ve been worrying about everyone else and not worrying about her because having seen her in action with a knife and a rifle I figured she could take care of herself and we’d all need protection from her. I guess I never stopped to think about how she was feeling. All those years on her own, and we didn’t try to help her.”

“You didn’t know. She just vanished.”

“Yeah, but she left Aaron behind and she’d never do that if she was in her right mind. Then with what happened with Sayid… I just didn’t connect the dots that that’s what happened with Claire too. She must’ve died in the strike on New Otherton. Just for a minute or so, but long enough for him to get her. If I could understand what was going on with Sayid, vaguely, then I ought to be able to understand what’s going on with her.”

Kate leans back against the wall, going over it all in her mind.

“It was different with Sayid though,” she says. “He said he stopped feeling emotion. Claire can definitely still feel.”

“Yeah, maybe too much at once sometimes.”

Kate gives a snort of laughter.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because she wasn’t dead as long. I guess we’ll never know.”

“Well, thank you, anyway.”

They go into the kitchen where Miles is serving what could almost be described as breakfast, to Frank’s disgust.

“We have Dharma powdered eggs and Dharma dehydrated bacon flavour slices,” he says, shovelling some onto plates for Kate and James. Kate’s not entirely sure that the concoction is edible.

“Miles, no offence, but you’re a lousy cook,” Frank says, prodding the solid lump of egg with his fork.

“I’d like to see you do better, Miles retorts. “I don’t see anyone else around here making breakfast.”

The banter continues back and for the as they brave the eggs, and Kate almost doesn’t notice when Claire slips into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table. Frank gives her a friendly smile to indicate no hard feelings, and Miles eagerly gives her food, and soon she’s laughing and joking with the rest of them. Maybe soon she’ll feel safe amongst them, and won’t resort to hiding behind the sofa.

IV.

Richard announces that their new identities will be ready in a couple of days; he’s just waiting for the courier. Somehow, Kate doesn’t think he’s talking about UPS. It’s the first indication that they’ve had of any prospective departure date from the Guam safehouse, and the sense of a definite future in the air makes Kate feel more confident that such a future will eventually materialise. With that in mind, it’s time to start making plans. Since there’s more likelihood that Claire will reunite with her mother, she should probably let her mother know that her trip back to the island was successful and forewarn her of Claire’s mental state, which is going to take some getting used to considering what Claire was like when Carole last knew her, an angry teenager raging against the world and everything in it.

She tracks Richard down in the kitchen.

“Hey, can I borrow one of your many phones, please?” she asks. “I need to call Claire’s mom and let her know we’re ok. She already knows about the island – well, sort of – so it’s not some giant security risk. And I think it would do Claire good to talk to her.”

Richard nods and hands over one of the phones, a cheap burner but practical enough.

Kate’s pleased she’s got a head for numbers, and dials Carole Littleton’s cell.

Carole picks up after two rings.

“Hello?”

“Hello Ms Littleton, it’s Kate Austen.”

“Kate? Did you… Did you find Claire?”

“Yes, I did. I’ve got her. We’re in Guam. Where are you? Are you still in Los Angeles or did you take Aaron back to Australia?”

“We’re back in Sydney, I didn’t know how long you were going to be and I didn’t want to be living out of the motel indefinitely… Is Claire there? Is she ok? Can I speak to her?”

Kate grimaces.

“Physically, she’s ok. Mentally… She went through hell on that island. She survived there alone for three years. She’s not exactly the same Claire that she was before.”

“Oh, my poor baby…”

“I’ll see if she wants to speak to you.” Kate moves through the house to where Claire is sitting on the sofa, fidgeting with her hands, feeling uncomfortable without a weapon in them.

“Claire? Honey, I have your mom on the phone.”

“Claire? Claire, can you hear me?”

Claire doesn’t respond, and Kate just holds out the phone to her ear.

“Claire? Baby, are you there?”

Claire’s expression melts and she takes the phone.

“Mum?”

She sounds so small and so young. Kate forgets she’s only twenty-five; she’s so world-weary and so old beyond her years as a result of her experiences.

“Mum, I can’t believe you’re ok, you’re awake… I never thought I’d hear your voice again. Oh God, I’ve missed you so much…”

Kate can’t hear the other half of the conversation and she feels uncomfortable eavesdropping, so she steps outside. The others are out there, playing some kind of game with empty Dharma beer cans. Kate tries to follow it but it’s clear that Miles is making up the rules as he goes along and nothing makes the slightest bit of sense, but the hilarity is enough to make up for it. To think that this time yesterday they were just landing here, unsure of what the future was going to hold for them, unsure how they were going to get off Guam and not quite believing that they’d managed to get here in one piece in the first place. Now they’re laughing and joking like nothing happened.

Except, they know what happened. They all do. They don’t want to talk about it because it is too fresh and raw, but that’s not to say that they are ignoring it completely. Kate’s noticed it in the way that they all fall silent sometimes, and no-one tries to get the conversation going again. They’ve all left a piece of themselves behind on that island, maybe some more than others, and they’re all glad to be leaving it behind, although perhaps they are yearning for the days that came before, when they were whole.

This is a fresh start for all of them. New lives, new identities, a clean slate in which to do the right thing and live the best life. Kate’s had so many new starts over the last couple of years that this feels almost familiar. The sense of relief but also the sense of loss, knowing how many people they’ve left behind, how few they managed to save.

She glances over at the living room window. Claire is still on the phone, although it seems to be a different phone now. Maybe she ran out of battery life on the other one. They’ve been talking for over an hour and poor Richard’s phone bill must be through the roof, but he doesn’t seem too concerned. Who knows who he’s been calling in all his many phone calls trying to arrange new identities for them all.

Eventually, Claire joins them outside, but she only has eyes for Kate, coming over and throwing her arms around her.

“Thank you,” she says, choked. “Thank you so much.”

It’s clear just how much she needed that talk with her mother, and it’s clear how much it has affected her from her puffy eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks, but Kate says nothing and just holds her.

When she pulls away, there’s something different about Claire’s bearing. She’s standing a little straighter, and there’s a little more determination in her face. Perhaps it was the conversation with her mother than gave her the impetus she needed to really take back control where it was wrested from her by Not-Locke so long ago.

“I’m going to see my mum again,” she says, and it’s a statement, a fact, nothing of disbelief in it. “I never thought I would, but I’m going to. She says that Aaron’s doing well and he’s been an angel for his grandma. I think she’s a bit in love with him already.”

“Well, no-one can meet Aaron and not instantly fall in love with him.”

Claire smiles. “I know I did.” She sighs. “I guess it’s the same as it always was before. I thought I’d be a terrible mother, I really didn’t think that I was going to be able to handle it, but I did, and in those couple of months that I was with Aaron, I couldn’t imagine a life without him, a life where I’d given him up. But then I did give him up, somehow, somewhere, although I don’t remember how, and it got to the stage where I could barely remember what life was like with him. History’s repeating itself. He’s coming back into my life, and I’m certain that I’m going to be a terrible mum, I mean, look at me. But I’ve done it once before. Maybe I can do it again?”

She’s so unsure and questioning, but at least she’s entertaining the possibility, which she wasn’t doing before.

Kate smiles. “You will.”

That night, Claire approaches her predicament with her new-found determination, and stands staring at the bed in her and Kate’s room for a long time, as if she’s trying to work out the best strategy to defeat it. Finally, she leaves the room, and for a moment Kate thinks that she’s going to retreat behind the sofa again, although that would mean that the living room would get rather crowded as Richard is sleeping in there too tonight.

“I’m not diving behind the sofa again,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves, as if she can read Kate’s mind.

She returns with a kitchen chair and spare blankets, and sets about constructing herself a makeshift tent in the corner of the room. Once she’s shoved pillows and sheets in there, it actually looks rather nice and cosy, and she crawls into her little blanket fort, curling up ready to sleep. Her hair falls over her face where it’s too short to tie back properly, and for a moment it looks a little bit like a halo.

She pushes it aside and looks up at Kate.

“This is better,” she says. “A compromise to start with.”

Kate nods and gets into bed, and the two of them continue to talk quietly for a little while. It feels a bit like a teenage sleepover, both of them tired but neither of them really wanting to go to sleep just yet for fear of what nightmares might come over them. Kate can’t stop thinking about all the things that have happened, and she really doesn’t want to relive them in her dreams. They talk about silly little random things, like Dharma food and what the guys in the packing plant next door must think about the strange little motley crew of travellers who just descended into their workplace.

Eventually though, Claire falls asleep in her tent, and Kate watches her for a moment before succumbing herself. It’s nice to see her at peace for once.

The next morning, Kate is on edge when someone lets themselves into the safehouse with a key. It’s a middle-aged woman with a duffel bag over one shoulder and the weary expression of someone who’s spent a long time travelling. She doesn’t seem at all surprised to see the castaways there, she just shouts to Richard that she’s there. He appears from around the side of the house in the direction of the warehouse where he’s been smoothing things over with the Dharma packers.

“Eloise sent me,” the woman says to Kate by way of explanation.

Richard shows her into the living room and although they leave the door open, no-one goes in. Curiosity gets the better of Kate however, and she listens in at the doorway when it seems like their conversation is coming to a close.

“Richard, I know that you would only ever leave the island on a permanent basis if something terrible happened,” the woman is saying.

Richard nods and lets out a long breath, as if he has to prepare himself mentally for what comes next.

“Jacob’s dead,” he says eventually.

“I see.” The woman is silent for a long time. Kate wonders how many other Others there are out here in the real world – strange adjective to use, she knows, since the island was as real as any other part of this world – who don’t know about what happened a week ago and don’t know that their beloved leader and demi-god is dead.

“Richard, when you and Jacob sent me on this mission seven years ago, I was honoured to do it, but I miss the island,” the woman continues. “If Jacob is dead and there’s a new order to things like you say, does that mean I can go home? Is that even possible?”

Richard shakes his head and spreads his hands in defeat.

“I don’t know,” he says. None of them know. When they were leaving, everything was still so up in the air. Were Jack and Hurley successful in replacing the heart of the island and setting everything to rights? “Now that I’ve left, I don’t know where it is any more. But if it’s possible to get back, then Eloise will tell you how to get there.”

“Can I go home, Richard? Or will I still be needed out here?”

“I think that you can go home, Cam. There’s a new man in charge now, and if the island’s still there, then I don’t think he’ll be running things in the same way that Jacob always used to. You’ll be welcome. You’ve done very valuable work for us, and you deserve to go home.”

If Hurley is in charge of the island, as Kate thinks he probably is by now, then everyone will be welcome.

“Thank you, Richard.”

“Who was that?” Kate asks, after the woman leaves.

“That was Camilla. Someone needs to stay off the island to liaise with Eloise and make sure that our cover identities are straight for when we have to leave the island for whatever reason. That’s always been Cam’s job, but I don’t think that her services are going to be required anymore. Speaking of which, though.”

He holds up a huge stack of passports and identity documents. “That’s the reason she came. Dropping off our new lives.”

The paperwork gets divided into individual stacks on the kitchen table and everyone looks through their own. Eloise, Camilla and Dan Norton have been busy, Kate thinks, and she’s impressed by how in depth their new cover identities have been made in just a couple of days.

Victoria Katherine Hope, hers reads. Claire is Alexandra Claire Carter. She doesn’t get a good enough look at the others; presumably they’ll all come to light in good time.

She’s holding a new life in the palm of her hand, like she has done so many times, every time she’s changed her identity over the past few years. This time it feels more real. It’s less a pseudonym and more an entirely different person. All her identities were different people with different backgrounds, different ways to make in the world, but this one feels different because it’s not one of her own making; it’s something that someone’s given to her like a gift. Another chance.

The only thing that jars Kate is the fact that her new passport photograph looks uncomfortably like her mug shot, but if everything else checks out then she’s sure – well, she’s hopeful – that her passport won’t arouse suspicion.

“It’s strange,” Claire says, looking at the new passport, the only Australian one among the bunch. (Apparently Richard was asked if he wanted his to be Spanish to reflect his birthplace but he declined and now Richard Alpert was born in New York in 1965, not the Canaries a century and a half ago.)

“What’s strange?”

“It’s like I’m a whole different person,” she muses. “Someone who’s not me. I can pretend to be someone else now. Someone who’s normal.”

It twists something inside Kate to hear her speak like that.

“You’re still Claire,” she says. Maybe that’s the entire reason why they let them keep their real names in there somewhere. “You’ll always be Claire, no matter what the papers say.”

No matter how hard she tried to run away from it, she was always Kate. Now, though, that doesn’t seem like so bad a person to be.

VI.

Claire’s little blanket fort in the corner of the bedroom seems to be working, and she’s still sleeping in there quite happily when Kate wakes up the next morning. The feeling of being enclosed is obviously just the protection she needs to feel hidden and safe. Idly, Kate thinks of mosquito netting and drapes around four poster beds, or the little princess drapes that were available when she was redecorating Aaron’s room back in LA. Maybe one of those would be enough to keep Claire calm when they get back to civilisation. Just something as an extra layer between her and the outside world whilst she’s asleep and vulnerable.

There’s just one more night here and then they’ll be leaving this halfway house in a strange limbo, and will be returning to the real world. Kate will reunite with Aaron, Claire will reunite with her mother. They can truly begin a healing process that they can’t really get started with here in the safehouse in Guam. They need time and they need interaction with other people, and whilst they have all the time in the world here, they don’t have other people, and soon, with so many personalities in such a small space, tempers are going to fray.

Kate is infinitely grateful for the phone call between Claire and her mother. Kate can give her as much encouragement that she can and tell Claire over and over again that she’s going to be ok, and that Kate will help her through this as will everyone else in the house, but hearing it from her mother is different. It’s what’s given Claire the will to move on and the drive to get better, rather than thinking that it would be impossible. She knows it will be difficult, but she’s damned if she’s going to give up. She knows she needs help, but that’s not going to stop her trying to help herself as much as she can. She wants to get back to Aaron, she wants to get back to her mother, and she knows that she can’t in her current state.

It’s a long road ahead of them, but Kate can walk it with her. There’s nothing tying her down anywhere, there never has been. Her life has always been transient, until Aaron came into it. Aaron had grounded her in LA, but now Aaron is no longer in LA. Aaron is in Sydney with his grandmother, and so that’s where Kate will go too. She will go wherever Claire and Aaron will take her, and once Claire is ready to be Aaron’s mom again, then Kate will decide what comes next. There’s nothing holding her down, but at the same time, there’s nothing to keep her moving either. With a new identity, she also has a new life. There’s no need to run.

It’s strange, Kate thinks. Aaron had been the one to keep her in one place when she had been in LA, and even with the restrictions on her movement, she had never once felt the desire to move or run away with him - well, until Dan Norton had turned up on the doorstep of course, and that was constructed anyway. Now it is Claire who has given her a reason to stay in one place.

It’s family, Kate realises, and all the old quotes about home being people and not a place seem to ring true now.

It’s early days, of course. There are still several hurdles to be got over, but now all the logistics have been sorted out and their return to society will be as seamless as possible, there are fewer large external influences to worry about and she and Claire can turn their attentions to the task at hand - getting Claire better.

Kate wanders down to the kitchen where the others are already up. Frank is making breakfast - Miles has been categorically banned from cooking after his efforts on that first morning. Looking through the cupboards in search of cereal, Kate sees an unopened jar of peanut butter on the shelf and smiles. She’s surprised it’s still there. Maybe Claire just hasn’t seen it. She gets herself some cereal and takes the peanut butter, heading back up to her and Claire’s room and setting the jar down beside her little fort, ready for when she wakes up.

She doesn’t have all that long to wait. Claire screws her face up and opens her eyes, and she doesn’t startle or jump up to defend herself. She looks around, still wary, and Kate thinks that she’ll be still wary for a long time to come. But she can see that she’s safe, and then she sees the peanut butter and her face breaks into a wide smile, grabbing the jar and immediately digging into it.

“You remembered,” she said, and the noise she makes as she sucks that first scoop of creamy peanut butter off her finger is almost obscene.

“Yeah. You know, you once said that you were the only Australian in the world that liked peanut butter.”

Claire nods with a laugh, no doubt remembering a long ago conversation in which that came out.

“Well, I can tell you that’s categorically not true,” Kate says. Claire just raises an eyebrow, challenging her. “Aaron loves it,” she added.

Claire grins, and Kate realises that it’s the first time they’ve really spoken about Aaron since they were reunited on the island. Apart from establishing that he’s well and he’s being looked after by safe hands whilst Kate is here on the island, they haven’t spoken about him in himself and how he’s been doing for these past three years. Obviously at first they had too much else on their minds to occupy themselves with small talk as well, and then Claire didn’t want to think about Aaron because she didn’t want to think about what she had become. But now, it seems that talking about him doesn’t bring her pain.

“That’s going to be interesting for Mum looking after him,” Claire says. “She can’t stand the stuff. She could never understand how I could eat it all the time. Now she’s got Aaron eating it as well.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely his mother’s son in that regard.”

“What else does he like?” Claire gets out of her blanket fort and sits on the bed with Kate, peanut butter still in hand, and she leans in, wanting to know everything.

“Well, he’s a chocolate fiend as well, but I think that you can blame me for that one,” Kate says. “He likes dinosaurs and robots and spacemen and he can’t decide which is his favourite, it changes every day.”

Claire is rapt, and so Kate continues.

“His favourite story is Alice in Wonderland. Jack used to read it to him…”

The thought of Jack brings her up short, and a lump in her throat stops her from going on. It’s the first brutal reminder that Jack is not there anymore, and Jack is never going to be there again, and the pain runs deep. She squeezes her eyes shut against the tears that threaten to fall.

Claire licks her fingers clean and closes the peanut butter jar, wiping her hands on her too-large jeans and holding out her arms for Kate as she gives into her grief and crumples against Claire. Something in the back of her mind keeps telling her that it’s the wrong way round, that she should be the one staying strong for Claire, whereas a voice that sounds remarkably like Claire’s own is telling her that she can’t do this alone and that she can’t stay strong all the time; she has the right to cry and grieve just as everyone else does.

“It’ll be ok,” Claire soothes. “You keep telling me that everything’s going to be ok, so I think the same applies to you. Everything will be all right in the end.”

Another part of Kate wonders how everything can be, after everything that they’ve lost, but she doesn’t let that part speak, squashing it down beneath her misery and letting herself cry.

When she finally quietens, she feels better than she has done ever since she left the island.

Claire looks the most like the old Claire, too.

VII.

It’s time to head out into the big wide world again. The time spent in the safehouse has been useful, allowing them to regroup and begin to make the changes and the first steps towards healing, but they need to get out of it now and rejoin that world, putting those first steps into tangible practice. They can’t make progress here, they can only make the first steps and then stagnate.

Everyone is going to different places and everyone’s flights leave at different times. Kate and Claire are the first to go to catch their plane to Sydney, and there’s a sombre and heartfelt leave taking outside the house. Everyone holds onto each other so long and so hard it’s like they never want to let go. They’ve all been through so much together and although they all promise to keep in touch, Kate knows how easy it is to lose touch with people. She hopes that everything they’ve been through will cement that bond and make their desire to remain in touch even stronger. After all, these six people are the only people in the world who know what happened on that island, and since they’re the only people they can talk to about it and try to make sense of it, then that has to count for something.

Richard has borrowed the packing plant’s Dharma van and is ferrying people to the airport. Kate wonders what he’s going to do now, since the island that has been his home for so long. He’s going to LA with Miles and James, and maybe he’ll get to see life afresh with eyes that can appreciate it.

Although Claire looks calm, she’s fidgeting with her hands again in that way that she never used to do before. Perhaps it’s the idea of getting on a plane for a long-haul flight again considering what happened on her last one. Maybe it’s the thought of meeting her mother again after so long. That conversation they had has cleared a lot of the air but there is so much still left unsaid between them, and of course, Carole has no real idea of the extent of things that Claire has gone through over the last three years.

She had said that she didn’t want Aaron to see her like this. That probably extends to her mother as well. She no longer looks as feral as she did on the island, but even then the aura of the island still hangs around her, in her ill-fitting clothes and nervous posture. But Carole will understand, Kate thinks. She might never hope to understand exactly what has happened to Claire and Kate doubts that Claire will ever reveal the full details, but she will understand that Claire’s mental state is not what it was when she left Australia, that she doesn’t see things in the way she used to, in the way that a person who has not been affected as she has will. That’s something that Aaron won’t understand.

Getting out of the van outside Guam airport, their few belongings packed in a single bag between them, with new ID at the ready and a cover story firmly in place should anyone question it, Kate and Claire say their final goodbyes to Richard and promise to contact him and the others once they are back on their feet. It feels like coming back to civilisation after a week in a quiet limbo, and even Kate is unnerved by the noise and bustle of the airport after the peace of the safehouse. Still, they get through to departures without any fuss and as they sit waiting for their plane in companionable silence, Claire’s hands are finally still.

“Are you looking forward to going back home?” Kate asks.

She nods, and a little smile creeps over her face.

“I didn’t realise how much I missed it until we were driving up the road towards the airport. Now I can’t wait to get back, even though I know what’s waiting for me there.”

A long and painful uphill struggle. Kate doesn’t need to ask. Still, it’s an improvement on where she was a week ago when she almost didn’t leave the island, believing that she didn’t deserve a fresh start at a life on the outside.

The plane ride is tense; with Claire grabbing Kate’s hand every time they go over the slightest bit of turbulence, but they finally land in Sydney airport without incident. Kate can’t quite believe it. They’re here. They’re ok. They’re truly back in the real world and now the rest of their lives can begin.

Customs and passport control take forever, although they have no luggage, which helps matters along. Maybe it’s the fact that they have no luggage which makes passport control take so much longer. Kate is used to the worry that comes when using a new fake document in an official capacity for the first time, so she knows how to tamp down her fear and appear non-plussed. Claire’s only ever used fake ID for buying alcohol underage, not trying to get into the country of her birth.

Finally, just at the moment when Kate thinks they’re going to get pulled off to one side and interrogated, they’re let through, and they find themselves in the arrivals hall.

Claire looks around nervously. There are a hell of a lot of people, more people than she’s been around for a long time. She’s curled in on herself, trying to make herself as small as possible, and she hides herself behind Kate as they move through the crowds of people.

Finally Kate spots the person they’re looking for and grabs Claire’s hand, guiding her through the melee towards where Carole is waiting at the back of the arrivals area. She looks as nervous as they feel, but she breaks into a smile when she sees Kate. She probably hasn’t seen Claire yet, and she looks around, peering around Kate to try and see her daughter.

Claire hangs back, all the old fears stopping her in her tracks as Kate approaches Carole.

“Hi,” she says. “Thanks for coming to meet us.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Aaron’s with a babysitter, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him along.”

She’s still looking over Kate’s shoulder, and Kate can forgive her that. She steps out of the sight line and mother and daughter set eyes on each other for the first time in far too long.

“Mum…”

In the midst of the busy airport with so many heartfelt reunions going on, no-one really pays any attention to Claire and Carole both crying their eyes out as they cling to each other like limpets.

“Thank you,” Carole says to Kate over Claire’s shoulder, her voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

VIII.

The next couple of weeks are strange.

Claire is not ready to see Aaron again, she says so herself as they drive back towards Carole’s house from the airport.

“I’m not ready. I need to get used to normal life for myself before I can think about taking care of Aaron again.” Kate can see just how badly she wants to get back to Aaron, but the fact that she’s aware of her own mental state is probably a good sign.

So things are in a little limbo for a while. Kate rents a little place just around the corner from Carole and lives there with Aaron, as he needs a mom in his life and since Kate is around, it would be strange for him to see her and recognise her and yet not have her acting as his mom. Claire moves back in with Carole, but Kate spends a lot of time there, and Carole spends a lot of time with Aaron, because ultimately, Kate knows what Claire went through and can understand some of her mindset better than Carole can ever hope to.

Aaron doesn’t seem to mind all the going back and forth between his grandmother and the woman he’s always known as his mother. He’s seen Claire in passing, in Carole’s house, but they’ve never been formally reintroduced.

But after two weeks, the three of them think that the time is right, and it needs to be sooner rather than later. Claire is still retreating to blanket forts in the night, and still doesn’t sleep well, but she and Carole and Kate are building up coping mechanisms for her now, and bending their lifestyles a little to accommodate her habits. The scariest parts are when she zones out, fidgeting with her hands and staring into the middle distance, and it can take several attempts to get her back in the room with them. But it’s a start. She’s moving in the right direction, however slowly, and being reintroduced to Aaron will hopefully help her progress and give her something to keep fighting for.

Carole and Claire come round to Kate’s place, and Kate sits Aaron down in the living room.

“Aaron, there’s someone really important who you need to meet, ok? So I want you to listen to me very carefully.”

Aaron looks at her soberly and Kate begins.

“You know I’ve been your mommy for a long time, Aaron. Well, when you were very little, when you were still a baby, before I was your mommy, you had another mommy, your first mommy, and she loved you very much.”

“Why isn’t she my mommy now?” Aaron asked.

“Well, a long time ago, when you were still a baby, a bad man took your first mommy away and he made her very sick. So, I became your mommy, because you needed someone to look after you and your first mommy couldn’t. But now, your first mommy is back.”

“What about the bad man?”

“He’s gone, sweetie. He can’t hurt you or me or your mommy again.”

“Is my other mommy still sick?”

Kate sighs, because Claire’s still got a long way to go before she’ll be close to normal again, but the sooner she gets reintroduced to Aaron and can start to become a part of his life again, the sooner she will recover - both Carole and Kate are sure of it. The longer they wait for her to become stable again before the reintroduction is made, then the longer she’ll take to become stable.

“She’s getting better,” Kate says. “She’ll be well again soon, and she’s going to come and live with us whilst she gets better. But you see, Aaron, she hasn’t seen you since you were a baby and she really wants to see you again. Will you come with me and say hello?”

Aaron nods and Kate takes his little hand, leading him through to the kitchen where Carole and Claire are waiting. Claire’s hands are shaking with nerves and she hides them under the table when she sees Aaron.

“Hey Aaron! You’ve got so big! You were a teeny tiny little thing when I last saw you. Oh baby, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I left you, and I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

“You’re my first mommy?” Aaron asks.

“Yes.” Claire’s voice is wobbly and there are tears in her eyes. “I’m your first mummy. My name’s Claire.”

“Claire. Are you the Claire grandma talks about?”

Claire nods. “Yes. That’s me.” There’s a long pause, no-one quite sure what to do next other than let the encounter run its course. Finally Claire speaks again. “Can I… Can I hug you? Please?”

Aaron nods amiably and Kate’s never seen Claire move so quickly. She’s down on the floor with her arms around her son in a matter of seconds.

“Why are you crying, Mommy Claire?” Aaron asks.

“Because I’m just so happy to see you, Aaron.”

And that’s how it begins, the rest of their lives. Aaron still calls Kate Mommy, but Claire doesn’t seem to care as long as he calls her Mommy too. Kate is still the one he runs to first if he gets hurt, if he’s happy about something and wants to share, but Claire is the one he goes to if he wakes with nightmares, because she’s more likely to be awake.

Claire is the one he goes to when he’s scared, because she’s scared too, and they can make each other braver.

It began after Aaron met Claire on the landing once, on one of the occasions when she was unable to sleep and so was wandering around the house to double check that they were all safe, and investigating the disturbance, Kate found them curled up together in Claire’s blanket fort.

“Why do you sleep in a tent sometimes, Mommy Claire?”

“It makes me feel safe.”

“Can I come in and be safe too?”

“Of course. There’s room for one more.”

Kate watches them unseen through the crack between the door and its frame, and she smiles. Piece by little piece, they are putting Claire back together again, and in doing so, Kate feels, she is putting herself back together as well.

#Lost Fanfic #Claire Littleton #Kate Austen #post-finale #canon compliant #post-season 6 #Fic: Reconstructing Claire

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michaelandy101-blog · 3 years ago

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Are You Able to Promote Like QVC?

New Post has been published on https://tiptopreview.com/are-you-ready-to-sell-like-qvc/

Are You Able to Promote Like QVC?

The creator’s views are fully his or her personal (excluding the unlikely occasion of hypnosis) and will not all the time replicate the views of Moz.

A photograph. Some textual content. A procuring cart button.

It’s the setup you’ve been used to because you had been Web-years-old.

Digital commerce has existed since the 1970s, passing by way of a prescient experimental part of telephone-based TV shopping within the 1980s, and setting the tone for the long run with Stephan Schambach’s 1990s invention of the first standardized online shopping software. US shoppers spent $861.12 billion with online retailers in 2020. By making the “add to cart” ritual so acquainted, it could look like we’ve seen all of it relating to digital commerce.

However maintain onto your hats, as a result of indicators are rising that we’re on the verge of the subsequent online gross sales part, akin to the 19th century leap from nonetheless images to transferring photos.

If I’m proper, with its normal product photographs, standard e-commerce will quickly begin to appear uninteresting and dated in lots of classes in comparison with merchandise bought by way of interactive video and additional supported with post-purchase video.

Now could be the time to prep for a filmed future, and luckily, the path has already been blazed for us by house procuring chief QVC, which took over tv after which digitally remastered itself for the net, perfecting the artwork of video-based gross sales. In the present day, we’re going to deconstruct what’s occurring on QVC, and the way and why chances are you’ll have to study to use it as an search engine marketing, native search engine marketing, or enterprise proprietor — prior to you suppose.

Why video gross sales?

A sequence of developments and disruptions level to a future wherein many product gross sales can be facilitated by way of video. Let’s take a look at them:

First, everyone knows that people love video content material a lot, they’ve induced YouTube to be the #2 search engine.

Google has documented the expansion of video searches for “which (product) should I buy”.

Once we look past the US, we encounter the phenomenon that livestreaming e-commerce video has turn out to be in China, highly-monopolized by Alibaba’s Taobao and creating celebrities out of its hosts.

In the meantime, throughout the US, the pandemic induced a 44% increase in digital shopping spend between 2019-2020. We moved online final 12 months for each our fundamental wants and nonessentials like by no means earlier than.

The pandemic has additionally induced bodily native manufacturers to implement digital procuring, blurring former online-to-offline (O2O) boundaries to such a level that Web transactions are not the particular property of digital e-commerce firms. This weirdly-dubbed “phygital” phenomenon — which is making Google the nexus of Maps-based native product gross sales — might be seen as a boon to native manufacturers that reap the benefits of the search engine’s famed user-to-business proximity bias to rank their stock for close by clients.

At the very least, Google hopes to be the nexus of all this. The reality is, Google is reacting strongly proper now to consumers starting half of their product searches on Amazon as an alternative of on Google. Are you seeing adverts all over the place as of late informing you that Google is the perfect place to buy? So am I. With that large, profitable native enterprise index of their again pocket and with GMB listings lengthy supporting video uploads, Google has not too long ago:

Acquired Pointy to combine with retail POS techniques

Made product listings free

Amped up their nearby procuring filter

Tried to insert themselves immediately into shoppers’ curbside pickup routines whereas integrating deeply into information partnerships with main grocery manufacturers

Skilled large development in native enterprise opinions, and simply launched an algorithmic replace particular to product review content (look out, Amazon!)

Experimented with detecting products in YouTube videos amid rumors flying about product outcomes showing in YouTube

Been noticed experimenting past influencer cameo movies to product cameos in data panels

In the meantime, huge manufacturers all over the place are entering into video gross sales. Walmart leapt forward within the shoppable video contest with their debut of Cookshop, wherein celeb cooks cook dinner whereas shoppers click on on the interactive video cues so as to add components to their procuring carts.

Crate & Barrel is tiptoeing into the pool with fast product romance movies that resemble fragrance adverts, wherein models lounge about on lovely accent chairs, creating the aura of a life-style to be lived. Nordstrom is filming bite-sized home shopping channel-style product videos for his or her web site and YouTube channel, full with hosts.

And, smaller manufacturers are experimenting with video-supported gross sales content material, too. Try Inexperienced Constructing Provide’s product videos for his or her eco-friendly house enchancment stock (with personable hosts). Absolute Domestics exhibits how SABs can use video to help gross sales of companies somewhat than items, as on this easy however nicely-produced video on what to expect from their cleaning service. In the meantime, post-sales support videos are a persuasive worth add from Purl Soho that can assist you grasp knitting strategies wanted whenever you purchase a sample from them.

To sum up, on the deep finish of the pool, live-streamed e-commerce and shoppable video are already in use by huge manufacturers, however smaller manufacturers can wade in with fundamental static goods-and-services movies on their web sites and social channels to help gross sales.

Now could be the time to search for inspiration about what video gross sales may do for manufacturers you market, and no one — no one — has extra expertise with all of this than QVC.

Why QVC?

“I didn’t even know QVC still existed,” multiple of my marketing colleagues has responded once I’ve pointed to the 35-year-old house procuring empire as the best way of the long run.

The reality is, I’d most likely be sleeping on QVC, too, if it weren’t for my Irish ancestry having drawn me to their annual St. Patrick’s Day sales event for the previous 30+ years to take pleasure in their made-in-Eire product lineup.

About seven occasions extra people with Irish roots dwell in the USA than on the precise island of Eire, but the procuring channel’s vacation broadcast is among the few televised occasions tailor-made to our well-known nostalgia for our outdated nation house. My household tunes in each March for the craic of inspecting Aran Crafts sweaters, Nicholas Mosse pottery, Belleek china, and Solvar jewellery, whereas munching on cake produced from my great-grandmother Cotter’s recipe. Typically we get so excited, we purchase issues, however for the previous few years, I’ve primarily been actively finding out how QVC sells these things with such gorgeous success.

“Stunning” is the phrase and the wakeup name

QVC, which is a subsidiary of Quarate Retail Worldwide, generated $11.47 billion in 2020 and as early as 2015, practically half of these gross sales had been happening online — constantly putting the model within the top 10 for e-commerce gross sales, together with cellular gross sales. The corporate has 16.5 million consolidated customers worldwide, and entrepreneurs’ mouths will certainly water to study that 90% of QVC’s income comes from loyal repeat buyers. The typical QVC shopper makes between 22-25 purchases per 12 months!

Figures like these, paired with QVC’s sleek pas de deux incorporating each TV remotes and cellular units ought to command our consideration lengthy sufficient to check what they’ve achieved and the way they’ve achieved it.

“Enjoy visiting Ireland, but buy your sweaters on QVC!”

Whereas provides final, I wish to invite you to spend the subsequent 10 minutes watching this Internet rebroadcast of a televised segment selling an Aran Crafts sweater, together with your marketer’s eye on the magic occurring in it. Watch this whereas imagining the way it would possibly translate as a static services or products video for a model you’re marketing.

TL;DW? Right here’s the breakdown of how QVC sells:

Essential host

QVC hosts are personalities, many of whom have devoted fan bases. They’re skilled within the merchandise they promote, typically visiting manufacturing crops to highschool themselves. When on air, the host juggles selling a product and interacting with fashions, visitor hosts, callers, and off-screen analysts. The host bodily interacts with the product, highlights its options in considerable element, and makes their gross sales pitch.

For our functions, digital entrepreneurs are absolutely conscious of the phenomenon of social influencers taking up celeb standing and being wanted as gross sales reps. At a extra modest scale, small e-commerce firms (or any native enterprise) that’s adopted digital gross sales fashions ought to establish a number of employees members with the required skills to turn out to be a video host for the model.

You’ll want a spot of luck to safe relatable hosts. Simply remember that QVC’s secret formulation is to get the viewer to ask, “Is this me?”, and that ought to make it easier to match a bunch to your viewers. This instance of a nicely-done, low-key, densely-detailed presentation of a camping chair by a plainspoken host exhibits how easy and efficient a brief product video might be.

Visitor hosts

Many QVC segments function a consultant from the model related to the product being bought. In our instance, the visitor host from Aran Crafts is a member of her household’s enterprise, signing in remotely (because of the pandemic) to share the corporate’s story and construct romance across the product.

Relying on the mannequin you’re marketing, having a rep from any model you resell can be an additional belief sign to convey by way of video gross sales. Consider the back-and-forth chat in a podcast and also you’re virtually there. Small retailers simply reselling huge manufacturers could face a problem right here, however in case you have portion of stock from smaller firms and specialty or native producers, positively invite them to step in entrance of the digicam together with your host, as larger gross sales will profit you each.

Fashions

Regularly, gross sales displays embrace a number of fashions additional interacting with the product. In our instance, fashions are carrying these Irish sweaters whereas strolling round Ashford Citadel. Extra romance.

Different segments function fashions as topics of varied beauty remedies or as demonstrators of how merchandise is for use. Fashions and demonstrators was once normal in main American shops. QVC brilliantly televised this unimaginable type of persuasion at about the identical time it disappeared from real-world procuring within the US. Their gross sales figures show simply how enormous the need nonetheless is to see merchandise worn and used earlier than shopping for.

For our state of affairs of making online gross sales movies, such fashions could possibly be a convincing additional in promoting sure kinds of merchandise, and plenty of merchandise needs to be demonstrated by the host or visitor host. One factor I’ve not seen QVC do this I believe e-commerce and O2O native manufacturers positively may do is a UGC method of creating your buyer your mannequin, demoing how they use your merchandise of their real-world lives. Nearly everyone can movie themselves as of late.

Callers

There are not any dwell callers in our instance, however QVC historically will increase interactivity with the general public with on-air telephone calls.

In case your gross sales movies are static, you’re not fairly to the purpose of getting to study the artwork of dealing with dwell calls, however your product help telephone and SMS numbers and hyperlinks needs to be featured in each video.

Technique

“If you go up there with the intent to sell, it’s all going to come crashing down around you…The real goal of QVC…. was to feel like a conversation between the host, the product specialist (us), and ‘Her’ – the woman age 35 to 65 who is sitting at home watching television.” – I went on air at QVC and sold something to America

There’s a component of magic to how QVC vends such an enormous quantity of merchandise, however it’s all data-based. They’ve invested so closely in understanding buyer demographics that they’ve mastered precisely the way to promote to them. Your shopper base could also be completely completely different, however the bottom line is to know your buyer so effectively that you just perceive the precise method to take when providing them your stock of products and companies.

One other excerpt from the article cited above actually will get this level throughout when speaking about visitor hosts:

“Our experienced guests tend to focus on the product. But our best guests are focused on the viewer. Is this for the viewer? Everything goes through that filter. And if you do that, everything comes out more naturally.”

Right here at Moz, there could also be Whiteboard Friday hosts you particularly take pleasure in studying from. As a enterprise proprietor or marketer, your job can be to establish proficient individuals who can mix your model tradition with shopper analysis and translate that right into a type of merchandising infotainment that succeeds together with your explicit buyers. Profitable QVC hosts make upwards of $500,000 a year for being so good at what they do.

Being good, within the sweater pattern, means pairing QVC’s customer-centric, conversational promoting methodology with USPs and an aura of shortage. I’ll paraphrase the cues I heard:

“These sweaters are made exclusively for QVC” — a USP relating to rarity.

“Enjoy visiting Ireland, but buy your sweaters on QVC” — it is a robust USP primarily based on having higher costs than a traveler would discover if shopping for direct from the producer.

“Reviews read like a love letter to this sweater” — incorporating persuasive UGC into the pitch.

“Half of our supply is already gone; don’t wait to order if you want one of these” —- this creates a way of urgency to immediate clients to purchase immediately.

Analytics

The instance presentation most likely appeared fairly seamless and easy to you. However what’s really happening “behind the scenes” of a QVC gross sales phase is that the host is receiving earpiece cues on precisely the way to form the pitch.

QVC’s analytics observe what’s known as a “feverline” of response to every phrase the host says and every motion they make. Producers can inform in actual time which verbal alerts and gestures are inflicting gross sales spikes, and talk to the host to repeat them. One host, for instance, dances repeatedly whereas demoing meals merchandise as a result of extra clients purchase when he does so.

For a lot of the manufacturers you market, you’re not prone to be known as upon to ship analytical information on par with QVC’s mission control-style setup, however you’ll want to find out about video analytics and do A/B testing to measure efficiency of product pages with video vs. these with static photographs. As you progress, analytics ought to be capable of inform you which hosts, company, and merchandise are yielding the perfect ROI.

Three O2O benefits

In a big 2020 survey of native enterprise homeowners and entrepreneurs, Moz discovered that greater than half of respondents intend to keep up pandemic-era companies of comfort past the hoped-for finish of COVID-19. I’d count on this quantity to be even larger if we reran the survey in mid-2021. On-line-to-offline procuring falls on this class and readers of my column know I’m all the time in search of benefits particular to native companies.

I see 3 ways native manufacturers have a leg up on their digital e-commerce cousins, together with behemoths like Amazon and even QVC:

1. Restricted native competitors = higher SERP visibility

Digital e-commerce manufacturers need to compete in opposition to a complete nation or the world for SERP visibility. Google Procuring’s “available nearby” filter cuts your market all the way down to native map-size, making it simpler to seize the eye of consumers nearest your small business. If you happen to’re one of many solely native manufacturers supporting gross sales of your items and companies by way of movies in your web site, you’re actually going to face out within the cities you serve.

2. Restricted native stock = extra convincing authenticity

QVC is definitely a powerful enterprise, however one downside of their methodology, no less than in my eyes, is that their hosts need to be endlessly enthusiastic about hundreds of thousands of merchandise. The identical host who’s exuding enthusiasm one minute over an electrical toothbrush is breathless with admiration over a flameless candle the subsequent. Whereas QVC’s amazingly loyal clients are clearly not postpone by the bottomless provide of power over each single product bought, I discover I don’t fairly consider that the enjoyment is repeatedly real. In my recognition of the gross sales pitch techniques, the corporate feels huge and distant to me.

70% of Americans say they want to shop small. Your benefit in marketing a neighborhood enterprise is that it’ll have restricted stock and an proprietor and employees who can realistically convey authenticity to the video viewer about merchandise the enterprise has hand-selected to promote. An enormous chain grocery store needs me to consider all of its apples are crisp, however my native farmer telling me in a product video that this 12 months’s crop is crisper than final 12 months’s makes a world of plausible distinction.

three. Even a small enhance in conversions = an enormous distinction for native manufacturers

Backlinko recently compiled this list of exciting video marketing statistics that I hope you’ll learn in full. I wish to excerpt just a few that basically caught my eye:

84% of shoppers cite video because the convincing think about purchases

Product movies may also help e-commerce shops enhance gross sales by as much as 144%

96% of individuals have watched an explainer video to higher perceive a product they’re evaluating

The Native Search Affiliation discovered that 53% of individuals contact a enterprise after watching certainly one of their movies and 71% of people that made a purchase order had watched an online video from that model

Together with filmed content material on an e-commerce web page can enhance the typical order worth by 50+%

Video on a touchdown web page can develop its conversion price by as much as 80%

If the corporate you’re selling is among the solely ones in your native market to grab the alternatives hinted at by these statistics, consider what a distinction it could make to see conversions (together with leads and gross sales) rise by even a fraction of those numbers. Furthermore, if the standout UX and helpfulness of the “v-commerce” atmosphere you create makes you memorable to clients, you may develop native loyalty to new ranges as the perfect useful resource in a neighborhood, producing a recipe for retention that, if not fairly as astonishing as QVC’s, is fairly superb in your area.

Go n-éirí leat — good luck!

Such as you, I’m eager for the time when all clients can safely return to procuring domestically in-person, however I do agree with fellow analysts predicting that the style we’ve gotten for the comfort of transport and native house supply, curbside pickup, and tele-meetings is one that customers gained’t merely abandon.

Gross sales movies sort out certainly one of digital marketing’s largest challenges by letting clients see individuals interacting with merchandise after they can’t do it themselves, and 2021 is an efficient 12 months to start your investigation of this promising medium. My prime tip is to spend a while this week watching QVC on TV and inspecting how they’ve parlayed dwell broadcasts into static product movies that promote stock like hotcakes on their website. I’m wishing you the luck and intrepidity of the Irish in your video ventures!

Able to study extra about video marketing? Attempt these assets:

Have to study extra about native search marketing earlier than you begin filming your self and your merchandise? Learn The Important Native search engine marketing Technique Information.

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drummcarpentry · 3 years ago

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Are You Ready to Sell Like QVC?

A photo. Some text. A shopping cart button.

It’s the setup you’ve been used to since you were Internet-years-old.

Electronic commerce has existed since the 1970s, passing through a prescient experimental phase of telephone-based TV shopping in the 1980s, and setting the tone for the future with Stephan Schambach’s 1990s invention of the first standardized online shopping software. US consumers spent $861.12 billion with online merchants in 2020. By making the “add to cart” ritual so familiar, it may seem like we’ve seen it all when it comes to digital commerce.

But hold onto your hats, because signs are emerging that we’re on the verge of the next online sales phase, akin to the 19th century leap from still photos to moving pictures.

If I’m right, with its standard product shots, conventional e-commerce will soon start to seem dull and dated in many categories compared to products sold via interactive video and further supported with post-purchase video.

Now is the time to prep for a filmed future, and fortunately, the trail has already been blazed for us by home shopping leader QVC, which took over television and then digitally remastered itself for the web, perfecting the art of video-based sales. Today, we’re going to deconstruct what’s happening on QVC, and how and why you may need to learn to apply it as an SEO, local SEO, or business owner — sooner than you think.

Why video sales?

A series of developments and disruptions point to a future in which many product sales will be facilitated via video. Let’s have a look at them:

First, we all know that humans love video content so much, they’ve caused YouTube to be the #2 search engine.

Google has documented the growth of video searches for “which (product) should I buy”.

When we look beyond the US, we encounter the phenomenon that livestreaming e-commerce video has become in China, highly-monopolized by Alibaba’s Taobao and creating celebrities out of its hosts.

Meanwhile, within the US, the pandemic caused a 44% increase in digital shopping spend between 2019-2020. We moved online last year for both our basic needs and nonessentials like never before.

The pandemic has also caused physical local brands to implement digital shopping, blurring former online-to-offline (O2O) barriers to such a degree that Internet transactions are no longer the special property of virtual e-commerce companies. This weirdly-dubbed “phygital” phenomenon — which is making Google the nexus of Maps-based local product sales — can be seen as a boon to local brands that take advantage of the search engine’s famed user-to-business proximity bias to rank their inventory for nearby customers.

At least, Google hopes to be the nexus of all this. The truth is, Google is reacting strongly right now to consumers starting half of their product searches on Amazon instead of on Google. Are you seeing ads everywhere these days informing you that Google is the best place to shop? So am I. With that massive, lucrative local business index in their back pocket and with GMB listings long supporting video uploads, Google has recently:

Acquired Pointy to integrate with retail POS systems

Made product listings free

Amped up their nearby shopping filter

Attempted to insert themselves directly into consumers’ curbside pickup routines while integrating deeply into data partnerships with major grocery brands

Experienced massive growth in local business reviews, and just released an algorithmic update specific to product review content (look out, Amazon!)

Experimented with detecting products in YouTube videos amid rumors flying about product results appearing in YouTube

Been spotted experimenting beyond influencer cameo videos to product cameos in knowledge panels

Meanwhile, big brands everywhere are getting into video sales. Walmart leapt ahead in the shoppable video contest with their debut of Cookshop, in which celebrity chefs cook while consumers click on the interactive video cues to add ingredients to their shopping carts.

Crate & Barrel is tiptoeing into the pool with quick product romance videos that resemble perfume ads, in which models lounge about on lovely accent chairs, creating the aura of a lifestyle to be lived. Nordstrom is filming bite-sized home shopping channel-style product videos for their website and YouTube channel, complete with hosts.

And, smaller brands are experimenting with video-supported sales content, too. Check out Green Building Supply’s product videos for their eco-friendly home improvement inventory (with personable hosts). Absolute Domestics shows how SABs can use video to support sales of services rather than goods, as in this simple but nicely-produced video on what to expect from their cleaning service. Meanwhile, post-sales support videos are a persuasive value add from Purl Soho to help you master knitting techniques needed when you buy a pattern from them.

To sum up, at the deep end of the pool, live-streamed e-commerce and shoppable video are already in use by big brands, but smaller brands can wade in with basic static goods-and-services videos on their websites and social channels to support sales.

Now is the time to look for inspiration about what video sales could do for brands you market, and nobody — nobody — has more experience with all of this than QVC.

Why QVC?

“I didn’t even know QVC still existed,” more than one of my marketing colleagues has responded when I’ve pointed to the 35-year-old home shopping empire as the way of the future.

The truth is, I’d probably be sleeping on QVC, too, if it weren’t for my Irish ancestry having drawn me to their annual St. Patrick’s Day sales event for the past 30+ years to enjoy their made-in-Ireland product lineup.

About seven times more people with Irish roots live in the United States than on the actual island of Ireland, yet the shopping channel’s holiday broadcast is one of the few televised events tailored to our famous nostalgia for our old country home. My family tunes in every March for the craic of examining Aran Crafts sweaters, Nicholas Mosse pottery, Belleek china, and Solvar jewelry, while munching on cake made from my great-grandmother Cotter’s recipe. Sometimes we get so excited, we buy things, but for the past few years, I’ve mainly been actively studying how QVC sells these items with such stunning success.

“Stunning” is the word and the wakeup call

QVC, which is a subsidiary of Quarate Retail International, generated $11.47 billion in 2020 and as early as 2015, nearly half of those sales were taking place online — consistently placing the brand in the top 10 for e-commerce sales, including mobile sales. The company has 16.5 million consolidated customers worldwide, and marketers’ mouths will surely water to learn that 90% of QVC’s revenue comes from loyal repeat shoppers. The average QVC shopper makes between 22-25 purchases per year!

Figures like these, paired with QVC’s graceful pas de deux incorporating both TV remotes and mobile devices should command our attention long enough to study what they’ve done and how they’ve done it.

“Enjoy visiting Ireland, but buy your sweaters on QVC!”

While supplies last, I want to invite you to spend the next 10 minutes watching this Internet rebroadcast of a televised segment selling an Aran Crafts sweater, with your marketer’s eye on the magic happening in it. Watch this while imagining how it might translate as a static product or service video for a brand you’re marketing.

TL;DW? Here’s the breakdown of how QVC sells:

Main host

QVC hosts are personalities, many of whom have devoted fan bases. They’re trained in the products they sell, often visiting manufacturing plants to school themselves. When on air, the host juggles promoting a product and interacting with models, guest hosts, callers, and off-screen analysts. The host physically interacts with the product, highlights its features in abundant detail, and makes their sales pitch.

For our purposes, digital marketers are fully aware of the phenomenon of social influencers taking on celebrity status and being sought after as sales reps. At a more modest scale, small e-commerce companies (or any local business) that’s adopted digital sales models should identify one or more staff members with the necessary talents to become a video host for the brand.

You’ll need a spot of luck to secure relatable hosts. Just keep in mind that QVC’s secret formula is to get the viewer to ask, “Is this me?”, and that should help you match a host to your audience. This example of a nicely-done, low-key, densely-detailed presentation of a camping chair by a plainspoken host shows how simple and effective a short product video can be.

Guest hosts

Many QVC segments feature a representative from the brand associated with the product being sold. In our example, the guest host from Aran Crafts is a member of her family’s business, signing in remotely (due to the pandemic) to share the company’s story and build romance around the product.

Depending on the model you’re marketing, having a rep from any brand you resell would be an extra trust signal to convey via video sales. Think of the back-and-forth chat in a podcast and you’re almost there. Small retailers just reselling big brands may face a challenge here, but if you have a good portion of inventory from smaller companies and specialty or local manufacturers, definitely invite them to step in front of the camera with your host, as higher sales will benefit you both.

Models

Frequently, sales presentations include one or more models further interacting with the product. In our example, models are wearing these Irish sweaters while strolling around Ashford Castle. More romance.

Other segments feature models as subjects of various cosmetic treatments or as demonstrators of how merchandise is to be used. Models and demonstrators used to be standard in major American department stores. QVC brilliantly televised this incredible form of persuasion at about the same time it disappeared from real-world shopping in the US. Their sales figures prove just how huge the desire still is to see merchandise worn and used before buying.

For our scenario of creating online sales videos, such models could be a convincing extra in selling certain types of products, and many products should be demonstrated by the host or guest host. One thing I’ve not seen QVC do that I think e-commerce and O2O local brands definitely could do is a UGC approach of making your customer your model, demoing how they use your products in their real-world lives. Almost everybody can film themselves these days.

Callers

There are no live callers in our example, but QVC traditionally increases interactivity with the public with on-air phone calls.

If your sales videos are static, you’re not quite to the point of having to learn the art of handling live calls, but your product support phone and SMS numbers and links should be featured in every video.

Method

“If you go up there with the intent to sell, it’s all going to come crashing down around you...The real goal of QVC.... was to feel like a conversation between the host, the product specialist (us), and ‘Her’ – the woman age 35 to 65 who is sitting at home watching television.” - I went on air at QVC and sold something to America

There’s an element of magic to how QVC vends such a massive volume of products, but it’s all data-based. They’ve invested so heavily in understanding customer demographics that they’ve mastered exactly how to sell to them. Your consumer base may be totally different, but the key is to know your customer so well that you understand the exact approach to take when offering them your inventory of goods and services.

Another excerpt from the article cited above really gets this point across when talking about guest hosts:

Here at Moz, there may be Whiteboard Friday hosts you especially enjoy learning from. As a business owner or marketer, your job will be to identify talented people who can blend your brand culture with consumer research and translate that into a form of vending infotainment that succeeds with your particular shoppers. Successful QVC hosts make upwards of $500,000 a year for being so good at what they do.

Being good, in the sweater sample, means pairing QVC’s customer-centric, conversational selling method with USPs and an aura of scarcity. I’ll paraphrase the cues I heard:

“These sweaters are made exclusively for QVC” — a USP regarding rarity.

“Enjoy visiting Ireland, but buy your sweaters on QVC” — this is a strong USP based on having better prices than a traveler would find if buying direct from the manufacturer.

“Reviews read like a love letter to this sweater” — incorporating persuasive UGC into the pitch.

“Half of our supply is already gone; don’t wait to order if you want one of these” —- this creates a sense of urgency to prompt customers to buy right away.

Analytics

The example presentation probably looked quite seamless and simple to you. But what’s actually going on “behind the scenes” of a QVC sales segment is that the host is receiving earpiece cues on exactly how to shape the pitch.

QVC’s analytics track what’s called a “feverline” of reaction to each word the host says and each movement they make. Producers can tell in real time which verbal signals and gestures are causing sales spikes, and communicate to the host to repeat them. One host, for example, dances repeatedly while demoing food products because more customers buy when he does so.

For most of the brands you market, you’re not likely to be called upon to deliver analytical data on par with QVC’s mission control-style setup, but you will want to learn about video analytics and do A/B testing to measure performance of product pages with video vs. those with static images. As you progress, analytics should be able to tell you which hosts, guests, and products are yielding the best ROI.

Three O2O advantages

In a large 2020 survey of local business owners and marketers, Moz found that more than half of respondents intend to maintain pandemic-era services of convenience beyond the hoped-for end of COVID-19. I’d expect this number to be even higher if we reran the survey in mid-2021. Online-to-offline shopping falls in this category and readers of my column know I’m always looking for advantages specific to local businesses.

I see three ways local brands have a leg up on their virtual e-commerce cousins, including behemoths like Amazon and even QVC:

1. Limited local competition = better SERP visibility

Virtual e-commerce brands have to compete against a whole country or the world for SERP visibility. Google Shopping’s “available nearby” filter cuts your market down to local map-size, making it easier to capture the attention of customers nearest your business. If you’re one of the only local brands supporting sales of your goods and services via videos on your website, you’re really going to stand out in the cities you serve.

2. Limited local inventory = more convincing authenticity

QVC is certainly an impressive enterprise, but one drawback of their methodology, at least in my eyes, is that their hosts have to be endlessly excited about millions of products. The same host who is exuding enthusiasm one minute over an electric toothbrush is breathless with admiration over a flameless candle the next. While QVC’s amazingly loyal customers are clearly not put off by the bottomless supply of energy over every single product sold, I find I don’t quite believe that the joy is continuously genuine. In my recognition of the sales pitch tactics, the company feels big and remote to me.

70% of Americans say they want to shop small. Your advantage in marketing a local business is that it will have limited inventory and an owner and staff who can realistically convey authenticity to the video viewer about products the business has hand-selected to sell. A big chain supermarket wants me to believe all of its apples are crisp, but my local farmer telling me in a product video that this year’s crop is crisper than last year’s makes a world of believable difference.

3. Even a small boost in conversions = a big difference for local brands

Backlinko recently compiled this list of exciting video marketing statistics that I hope you’ll read in full. I want to excerpt a few that really caught my eye:

84% of consumers cite video as the convincing factor in purchases

Product videos can help e-commerce stores increase sales by up to 144%

96% of people have watched an explainer video to better understand a product they’re evaluating

The Local Search Association found that 53% of people contact a business after watching one of their videos and 71% of people who made a purchase had watched an online video from that brand

Including filmed content on an e-commerce page can increase the average order value by 50+%

Video on a landing page can grow its conversion rate by up to 80%

If the company you’re promoting is one of the only ones in your local market to seize the opportunities hinted at by these statistics, think of what a difference it would make to see conversions (including leads and sales) rise by even a fraction of these numbers. Moreover, if the standout UX and helpfulness of the “v-commerce” environment you create makes you memorable to customers, you could grow local loyalty to new levels as the best resource in a community, generating a recipe for retention that, if not quite as astonishing as QVC’s, is pretty amazing for your region.

Go n-éirí leat — good luck!

Like you, I’m longing for the time when all customers can safely return to shopping locally in-person, but I do agree with fellow analysts predicting that the taste we’ve gotten for the convenience of shipping and local home delivery, curbside pickup, and tele-meetings is one that consumers won’t simply abandon.

Sales videos tackle one of digital marketing’s largest challenges by letting customers see people interacting with products when they can’t do it themselves, and 2021 is a good year to begin your investigation of this promising medium. My top tip is to spend some time this week watching QVC on TV and examining how they’ve parlayed live broadcasts into static

product videos that sell inventory like hotcakes on their website. I’m wishing you the luck and intrepidity of the Irish in your video ventures!

Ready to learn more about video marketing? Try these resources:

17 Best Ecommerce Product Video Examples

The ABCs of Video Content

8 Beginner Tips for Making Professional-Looking Videos

How to Film Creative Product Videos

YouTube Dominates Google Video in 2020

How to Track YouTube Videos in Google Analytics Using Google Tag Manager in 4 Steps

Need to learn more about local search marketing before you start filming yourself and your products? Read The Essential Local SEO Strategy Guide.

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lakelandseo · 3 years ago