#i was thinking main?? somewhere high up north

[maudiemoods]

Every few weeks I remember that as of right now my life really isn't going in the direction I want it to go and I have a little month long freak out about how I'm wasting my life and how I absolutely need to find a career

I'm trying to make a list of goals and the steps to get there but it's hard. I'm so worried about investing all my time and energy into something I end up not liking. Idk I have a lot of fear in my heart. Makes things very difficult for me skenksmdjsjn

[m1d-45]

Hello! It's a new anon here!

My name is Baby Cat/Out of pocket anon!

If I may, a SAGAU Aether x GN! Reader who has a mortal form that is has similarities to the divine creator but not enough to be confused as an imposter.

I'll clarify a bit, Aether dosent know that his beloved is actually the divine one, but instead thinks that they have simply been blessed with part of their beauty. Tevyat dosent know the creator has descended and is waiting, meanwhile Aether has the creator in mortal form as his darling partner.

-Baby Cat anon

P.S! My cat Duckie has recently warmed up to a new person!

a new tomorrow

a/n: ignore my dogwater schedule i have not written like at all for the past 2-3 weeks ahahah (also this is isn’t very romantic coded but i already hate this piece so my bad g)

word count: ~3k

-> warnings: canon-typical violence, microscopic spoilers for liyue story quest ig

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24

< masterlist > || next part >>

when you’d first arrived in teyvat, you had fully expected to die, in honesty.

you were up on the top of starsnatch cliff, and had nearly fallen off in your initial panic if not for a sharp wind and a lucky break. you were much more mindful of where you walked after that, but mondstat was littered with impossible cliffs, and your memory of the area was sharply diminished when you didn’t have a little circle in the corner of your screen to remind you where you were.

you grabbed a few low-hanging sunsettias as you walked, making your way across a nondescript patch of grass. your plan was to just eat them as-is, but after a moments more thought into the idea, perhaps washing them first would be wiser. according to your memory, there were four main bodies of water: a lake and waterfall further north, the ocean to the east, cider lake to the west, and the state of the seven… somewhere.

the lake was surrounded by hilichurls and was a bit too close to the anemo hypostasis for your liking, the ocean was a no for obvious reasons, and cider lake didn’t seem like a particularly good idea, not to mention the only closest access to it you could think of was surrounded by hilichurls.

so, the statue of the seven it is. the only problem, of course, was that you had no idea where you were.

you tried to keep track at first, but then you had to climb down from one too many cliffs and had to take one too many detours around impossible ones, and now you were blindly walking. you could tell by the dense forest and the small lamp grass that you were somewhere in the whispering woods, but the thin path you were following have no indication of your direction. you hoped, of course, that you were headed north, but you didn’t know how to tell. the three sunsettias in your arms looked more tempting by the minute, but you were determined to clean them first. not only would that help you get your bearings again, but you’d lower the risk of whatever diseases were native to teyvat.

…which was something to consider further, in truth. your body wasn’t native, and hadn’t grown up with and developed an immunity to the bacteria here. would you get sick? had you already, and just had to wait until the symptoms developed? should you be more worried than you were?

the path around you was opening up, but you were too busy worrying to bother look up. what were the long-term effects of staying in teyvat? would you be intolerant or allergic to the foods here, because your body wasn’t used to processing them? what were the long term effects of-

“watch out!”

would you find out at all?

you looked over your right shoulder, at the voice that had called, and barely get a glimpse of bright gold before something white covers your vision, tiny hands pulling at your shirt.

“come on,” a high voice says, “follow paimon! let’s get away from the trouble.”

paimon-?

you stumble along with her, letting her take you further into what you now recognize as windrise. damn, wrong way.

“ooh, are those sunsettias?” you notice she’s blocking my your view of whatever’s behind her, likely the traveller and some enemies if you had to guess, judging by her presence and the sounds of metal on wood. “they look really fresh, too..”

you decide against trying to lean around her. best not to traumatize yourself on your first day. “uh, yeah, they are. would- do you want one?” you hold out one of the fruits. “i haven’t washed them yet, but…”

“oh, that’s okay!” she takes it eagerly, giving it a cursory wipe with her sleeve before taking a bite. “you don’t really need to wash em, in paimon’s experience! just a quick clean of any dirt and you’re all good to go!”

…that was stellar to hear.

you patiently wait, pretending the grunts and roars and sounds of clashing weaponry don’t exist. you try to offer paimon another sunsettia, since you know in-lore she’s almost always hungry, but she shakes her head.

“one for paimon, one for you, and one for the traveller! that way, everyone gets the same amount, and nobody’s upset!”

you don’t know how to feel about the fact that she addresses him as ‘the traveller’. on one hand, it makes sense she wouldn’t throw his name around like that. on the other, it feels… wrong. not in a way you can put a name to, but something about it is unsettling.

“did they offend you, or something?”

you startle, looking up, and see aether standing right in front of you, flipping through some hilichurl masks in his hands before passing two off to paimon, who puts them in a cloud of stars.

he looks at you expectantly, and you realize you had been frowning at the food in your hands. “o-oh! no, they.. sorry, i was lost in thought.”

he dismisses the rest of the masks into gold sparks with a nod. “are you alright?”

paimon gasps, hands over her mouth as she flies back a little. “oh, paimon forgot to ask! are you hurt at all? you don’t look like you’re from here…”

you flash her a smile you hope covers the change in topic. “i’m fine. and thank you,” you turn to aether, “your help is greatly appreciated-…” what do you address him as? you’ve technically never met, but to call him an honorary knight is probably unwise…

“the traveller is fine,” he says. “and you didn’t answer paimon’s question.” rats. “are you from teyvat?”

you hesitate, but eventually shake your head. “i’m not.”

he frowns. “how’d you get here?”

“i don’t know.”

“..you don’t have anywhere to stay, do you?”

oh no. you recognize that voice. “it’s fine, you don’t have to worry about me.” you glance around, eventually pointing at mondstat. it’s stunning in person, even from a distance, but you push past its beauty to talk. “there’s a city there, right? i’ll make do.”

“now’s a tense time, even mondstat isn’t as welcoming as usual.”

‘tense’? you don’t remember mondstat being involved in any scandals, and the skies seem clear, so you must be past the mondstat part of the story… “is something wrong? wait, don’t answer that; if it’s tense, then you surely have somewhere more important to be, right?”

paimon huffs. “paimon bets you’re broker than the tone-deaf bard!” wow, okay. “and a single sunsettia doesn’t get you far!”

aether raises a brow. “‘single’?”

“right!” you hurriedly pick the larger of the two, holding it out to him. “as thanks. she’s right, i don’t have any mor- uh, any more to give you, but it’s the least i can do.”

he shakes his head. “keep them. now, regarding your housing-“

“i can stay in mondstat-“

“the entirety of teyvat is on edge right now. the chances of an outlander being welcomed without hassle is low, even for mond.” he thinks about it, paimon mirroring the hand on his chin.

you try to think over the lore, attempting to remember something that could affect the entirety of teyvat. maybe you’re in the middle of the liyue quest? but why would he be in mond… unless you’re beyond the known lore, but in that case he has even less of a reason to be here, and not wherever the crisis is. not that that’s his obligation, of course, but given the trend-

“what’s your name, by the way?” you give it, and he frowns. “ah, that won’t do.” what. “i.. i don’t know about where you’re from, but where i’m from and here in teyvat, there’s a prominent religion that spans nearly the entire world here. this faith is the cause of the conflict i was talking about earlier.”

your heart picks up, and you pray it’s just some weird quirk of the lore you haven’t gotten to yet. maybe something with the heavenly principles? celestia? you regret not reading up on more of the lore now that you’re face to face with potentially a large part of it. “and?”

“you share the name with the primary god.” please don’t be what i’m thinking of, please don’t be- “the people of teyvat are rather protective of their creator, and doubly so now that their presence has gone missing.”

shit.

your mind flashes to all the sagau you’ve indulged in, to the break you’d taken a few days ago because your game had been acting up and you didn’t want to make whatever glitch it was worse in fear of losing your progress.

“oh,” is all you can say.

living with aether is easier than you thought it would be.

by the time you wake, he’s out working for the guild, leaving you and most of the realm within to yourself. you try and be useful by tidying up, but tubby keeps most of the realm clean, so there’s little for you to really do. there’s rooms that weren’t in the game—likely because this is his personal realm—such as a massive library and big sunroom, and you pick through the former on occasion. there’s books about everything, from encyclopedias on flowers in sumeru to the types of silk used in inazuman clothing. everything you don’t understand or want clarification on is bookmarked, and after he’s come home and rested, you both talk about them over dinner.

sometimes he knows the answers to your questions. other times you write them down on a slip of paper, and he takes a detour that day to ask. even if it’s something from a nation he hasn’t visited yet, he somehow finds the answers, returning to you with a longer sheet as he explains. you don’t ask where he got it, nor why he’s so willing to entertain your surely silly questions, but it probably has something to do with the fact that you didn’t fish up a companion that could answer all of your questions about a world you didn’t know deeper than surface level.

similarly, the transition in your relationship was also smooth, so quiet you almost didn’t notice it was happening. it was just so easy to be around him, your familiarity with him outside of the game and implicit reliance on him as an outlander during the mess of teyvat making him easy to talk to.

you didn’t notice when you started greeting him with hugs more often, nor when you started eating side by side at the table, talking about more than just the books. you told him about your world, and he spoke of his, telling you beautiful stories of his sister and their travels.

(“every world i’ve been to has worshipped the creator in one way or another,” he says, pushing his empty plate to the side. “does yours really not?”)

(you make the choice to set aside the many religions on earth. “we don’t,” you say simply, and he frowns, resting his chin in his hand.)

(“how interesting…”)

once he was confident that you knew enough of teyvat and it’s people, he began to take you on his commissions. the realm within was nice, and tubby held good conversation, but cabin fever began to set in after a month or so. he held your hand as you walked, steering you out of the way of monster camps or other adventurers. he didn’t dare bring you on the ones requiring fighting, but you’d helped find lost keys or fallen boards, paimon always certain to pull you away from battle, distracting you with a chat about whatever meal aether would make later.

(“do you guys always cook? doesn’t adventuring pay well?” you asked once, trying to remember how much commissions earned in terms of mora. you never really kept track, nor did you try and figure out how much it was to buy food from places, but surely…)

(“mostly! mora typically goes to either ingredients or first aid supplies. paimon’s thankful he’s a good cook, it’d be impossible to survive otherwise.” she said it so simply, as if it was an easy fact and not awful that they couldn’t afford to eat out even after everything they’ve done.)

(“that’s terrible…”)

(“its not that bad! you’ve tasted his cooking before, it’s great!” that’s true, but- “besides, it’s been getting better recently. with the creator absent, he’s able to take the commissions himself. though it is nice, it’s still worrying they haven’t come back..”)

(the idea that you’ve been indirectly contributing to their situation makes you a bit sick.)

the three of you were walking through liyue, heading for the last commission of the day. shitou, the jade betting guy, needed more ores for his business, and aether was leading you through the city. he’d chosen the waypoint on the western side of the harbor so you could walk through the city, and you were happy he did.

it was so beautiful in person, the buildings and bridges so much more ornate than their models could do justice. the streets were crowded, but you weren’t overwhelmed when aether was beside you, pointing out a jewelry store or a traveling merchant showing off bright balloons to children. you passed one man holding a conversation with a millelith soldier, who was his brother judging by the informal way they spoke and the mentions of shared relatives. you crossed the bridge leading to the eastern half of the harbor, the smell of something sweet and flowery drifting in the air.

“is there a flower shop around here?” you ask, and aether shakes his head, pointing at a building you vaguely recognize.

“there’s a tea house there, and they specialize in rose tea. we could pick up some if you wanted to try it?”

“that’s fine, i was just wondering. i wouldn’t want you to buy something for me if i didn’t like it.”

he stayed quiet, but you could tell he was still thinking about it. “what’s the appropriate way to brew it… wait, do we even have a teapot?”

“i’d hope so, otherwise you’ll have a lot to explain to the adepti.”

he bumps your shoulder as you both begin to turn toward shitou, but you see he’s smiling. “you know what i mean, not that kind of-“

“teapot?”

your steps stopped suddenly, the new voice one you regrettably recognized.

aether turned, greeting zhongli with a smile and a small wave. “not the realm within, don’t worry.”

“that’s good to hear. i’d hate for it to be causing problems.” his eyes flicked to you, seeming to search for something. “and your friend?”

it was weird, the way he looked at you, and aether seemed to pick up on it, stepping forward a bit to block you while also making it seem like he was just turning to face zhongli better. “just someone helping me out. what are you doing out here, don’t you have a shift at the parlor?”

bless aether and his ability to direct conversations, bless him and the speed with which he reminds zhongli of the necessary urgency when working at the funeral parlor, successfully sending the man on his way, even if he gives you another searching look as he does.

“sorry,” aether said, giving your had a squeeze as he approached shitou’s table. “he’s probably cautious because you look like the creator.”

you return it, staying quiet as he hands over the jade and only speaking up once the two of you turn around towards the closer waypoint. “it’s alright. thank you for talking to him.”

he flashed you a smile, putting one hand on the waypoint. “of course. it’s the least i could do.”

liyue fell away in a flash of white, the familiar music of the realm within washing away any lingering feaf or unease from talking to zhongli.

maybe one day you’d come clean, stop lying about reading information from his library. maybe you’d tell him, maybe you’d confess to how crystalflies always seemed to follow you, the wind always at your back.

“what would you like for lunch?” aether called, pulling down ingredients from various cabinets before you even answer because he knows what you’ll say.

“surprise me,” you reply, and he chuckles. the same answer, every time, and every time he manages to find something new to make you.

today you would keep quiet again, as you had every other day. today you would root through the pantry when he forgot the flour, today you would set the table and pull out some paper, asking him about whether or not they had silkworm farms if silk flowers were so common, at least in liyue.

today he would smile, and today he would answer, and maybe tomorrow you’d tell him something he couldn’t reply to.

but that was tomorrow. and this was today.

[adaines-furious-feast]

One of my interests is how gods of old pantheons changed over time and after contact with other religions. I have a series of pantheons for my own fantasy novel and I just get really deep into world building and never any writing. So I'm really fascinated about how it works in Fantasy High. So:

(Undercut because long)

Ankarna and Ruvina would have been created somewhere in the north, possibly in the mountains of chaos. There's also an unnamed autumn deity and an unnamed spring deity. I think these two would have possibly been more important than they seem because when you think about pantheons today spring, the returning of life after winter, the time when new animals are born ect. ect. and autumn, the harvest time are much more prominent characters than summer and winter.

Galicaea and Helio are created somewhere in the south. Proto-Galicaea has moon connections, but also connections to mystery and magic, which is why she becomes a favourite of the elves. Helio has more sun connotations but also harvest time.

More human followers of Galicaea, possibly originally from a place called Osmir, create Galicaea-Osmir and eventually just Osmir, a deity of mystery which Rana worships that doesn't have a whole lot of followers. It wasn't uncommon in ancient Rome/Greece for there to be multiple versions of the same god worshipped in different places (Aphrodite for example had both romance and war connotations depending on where she was worshipped)

Eventually proto-Galicaea of the elves is split probably around the same time High Elves isolate themselves on Fallinel. She becomes this very isolationist and unmoving god, while those in Sylvaire worship Galicaea-Cassandra and then eventually just Cassandra. There are still some on the mainland that worship Galicaea-prime but in a more primal form than the High Elves, but it doesn't get enough followers and development to split off into its own deity and just remains Galicaea-Lida.

Meanwhile, while this is all happening there is development of two different kinds of Helio: Helio-corn and Helio-sol. They're not fully separated until the human followers encounter the giants who are trying to change Ankarna into this goddess of war and remove the sun from her. Up until this point, Helio-corn had been the prime god because, again, the harvest is so important. But followers of Helio-sol work with the Sunstones and rise to prominence, making Helio-Sol, then Sol-Helio, then just Sol the main god. Helio-corn, while being an older god than Sol, ends up becoming represented as Sol's son (not unheard of. See the development of Dionysus which is a fascinating case).

I think Helio would then have some influence on the unnamed Autumn god of the giants, possibly making them weaker as Ankarna in her war form took prominence, and also because the Sunstones/Cliffbreakers probably did a bunch of murder of their followers until this autumnal god took a backseat like Helio did.

[kaijunouhhhhhhhhhhummmm]

ramble: soshiro centered/ family drama/ hoshina estate 🏯

you’re in the third division of the defense force and on one fine day you, along with your ass kicking colleagues are given vacation time. you all cheer and can’t wait to get some much needed relaxation. but are amiss at what to do. some decide to go visit home, this leads Iharu to say;

‘you know who’s got some sweet digs? the vice captain.’

‘those are just rumors right?’ kafka chimes in. ‘Kikoru probably has a huge mansion!’

‘not really’ she says

‘i did hear his family has a huge inherited compound.’ says reno

‘they were legends! i mean still are for sure.’ iharu says

days go by and word gets to soshiro that everyone wants to know just what his childhood home looks like. and in a moment of shock to everyone he says ‘you all wanna see for yourselves?’ everyone is speechless. the vice captain is usually not one willing to let anyone into any personal part of his life. very uncharacteristic of him. everyone is enthusiastic about going of course. there is however a sort of silence surrounding soshiro as the days continue. he gives some details about his home but answers most questions with a version of ‘you’ll see for yourself’

shortly thereafter you’re all on a plane, a train and a bus to the hoshina compound. ‘look up.’ he says as the bus climes higher and higher up a winding road on a mountain side. you all do, rushing and shoving to one side of the bus. ‘no way’ ‘shit!’ ‘okay yeah i would’ve seen that from the bottom of the mountain’. everyone is aghast. the roof of a towering building appears over high walls.

you arrive at the main entrance gate followed by almost a hundred steps leading farther up. it appears more like a shrine than a home. hoshina tribe keeps its ancestors close. you all loathe climbing the steps with your luggage but can’t wait to get to the top. the climb is worth the reward. it’s large enough for soshiro to call parts of it the north, south, east and west wings. there is the main house and open walkways leading to the rest. you can’t see most of it from where you stand but it spans wider than you can make out anyways. there are apparently four gardens, three training areas, a hot spring farther out and deeper into the woods a trail leading to a forge.

his father greets everyone. he seems happy and relived to see his son again. soshiros expression is unmoving but he keeps his place as a respectful son. there’s a shift in how soshiro is seen by all in this moment. bowing deeply to his father. everyone does the same in thanks. captain ashiro was mindful to bring a gift. his father welcomes everyone and has a housekeeper show all of you to where you’ll be staying.

the stay is for the week and is mostly touring the land. beautiful forests, relaxing in the hot spring or even training for those that don’t want to fall off entirely. the compound is excellent for just that. you all hardly see soshiro. he joins the group on occasion but for the most part is off somewhere in estate. you all figure he’s got a lot of family affairs to attend to. when he is with you all he seems like he’s thinking about elsewhere. asks if everyone is comfortable, enjoying themselves, having fun but doesn’t seem to listen intently to the answer. you worry. somethings been off since he invited everyone.

‘yeah i don’t know how to feel about it. i was so excited about seeing the place i didn’t think too hard about why.’ kafka says when you mention it.

‘he doesn’t have the best relationship with his fam so i thought i was having a stroke when he asked if we wanted to come along’ iharu says. you are all in one of the gardens admiring the statues of defeated kaiju and their victorious warriors.

‘i’m sure he has his reasons. cmon we’ll be hiking a bit more today’ says mina. everyone acknowledges out of respect for her vice captain the conversation must end.

it’s the second to last day and kafka wants to get everyone together for a game and asks where soshiro is. you say you’ll look for him. you leave the play room out the sliding doors and walk in a general direction occasionally bowing to the housekeepers. there aren’t many. and as expansive as the compound is it doesn’t have quite enough help. you notice parts of it look worn down and unused. it’s still beautiful but nature has taken advantage of the areas that have long been left unattended to. wood splintering, moss growing on stilts and wood boards, climbing plants growing over walls and roofs, grasses and flowers between the gaps on the outdoor tile.

you hear voices and decide to turn in that direction. the voices grow louder not with proximity but in volume. you’re too close now. surely whoever is nearly yelling will hear your steps. you can hardly make out what’s being said but you freeze up at hearing soshiros voice rise in frustration. you’ve walked in on a very personal moment and want to leave but don’t know how to.

‘why did you come if not for that?’ you jump at the clear exclamation.

silence follows. your heart is pounding.

‘i was hoping-‘ you recognize soshiros voice. he cuts himself off.

you feel a tap on your shoulder. it makes you jump but the housekeeper that guided you to your rooms when you first arrived puts a finger up to her mouth signaling you to stay silent. she has a soft smile. her expression understanding what you heard but without a word asking you to be mindful. she gently reaches out for your hand and guides you away. her trained footsteps hardly make a sound. you turn back to the room you heard the argument from. you don’t hear yelling anymore.

she guides you to a small kitchen and gives you a tray of snacks. ‘here’ she says ‘for you and your friends’ you follow her silently to the game room. what you both heard hanging in the air. everyone is grateful for the food and you tell them you couldn’t find soshiro. you turn to the housekeeper and she bows before shutting the door and leaving.

the next day is much of the same. tomorrow morning you will all leave. you are on your way down stone steps to a wildflower garden when you see soshiro approaching.

‘vice captain. it’s good to see you’ you say. better to not mention what you heard.

he smiles. if you didn’t know any better you’d have no idea he just argued with his father yesterday. ‘hey there. i’ll be joining you all today. have you liked everything so far?’

youre response is cut off by a greeting ‘soshiro!’ you both turn to see soichiro approaching. you sense once again this is not your place. you’re about to say you’ll see him down in the garden but when you see his face you freeze. once again your stopped in place. his face is stone. his eyes are sharp and focused on his approaching sibling.

‘i didn’t know you’d be coming out. dad says you’ve been here for a week now with your division. hey there i’m soichiro nice to meet you!’ he greets you. you both bow.

‘you as well. you have a beautiful home.’ you say meaning it. again you turn to soshiro but his face hasn’t changed. ‘well then i’ll be going.’ you make your exit swift. as you pace down the steps you hear pieces of what would be a bad excuse for a conversation. soichiro asks questions. soshiro answers in curt one word responses. you realize he did not bow to his older brother.

their conversation must’ve not been very long because he’s joined your group not five minutes after you walk away. reno and kafka are now in flower crowns and iharu is impatiently waiting for his from mina. you’re trying to make your own. soshiro greets everyone and your amazed at how different he is now. his glare was as cold as steel towards his brother but here he’s warm and as witty as ever. you all decide to stay out for the afternoon and into the evening.

dinner is brought to you all and you have a picnic as twilight comes. you feel stuck about what happened yesterday and not to long ago. you’re not sure what to do but decide not saying anything is definitely not what you want to do.

you walk up to where he is, observing everyone from a little distance. ‘here’ you say handing soshiro a flower. ‘i want to apologize.’ he looks at you confused. ‘yesterday. i heard you and your father, well, i shouldn’t have-‘

you’re cut off by a chuckle ‘ ah that was you.’ a bitterness in his tone. ‘i’m sorry you heard that. and for earlier as well. i meant to say something but…’

‘don’t apologize to me. it’s none of my business but i felt bad about it happening. to you i mean. fuck, i mean you don’t need my pity. not that that’s what i’m trying to say! it’s just i know it really sucks when you argue with your family so i wanted to do something so please accept this flower.’ god you’re embarrassed. what the hell was that? you two hardly speak and now here you are stammering the most you’ve ever said at once to him.

a smile grows on his face as he looks at you then the flower, then back at you again. he reaches out and takes the flower. ‘thank you.’ he looks at you in the eyes with such sincerity you can’t respond. you nod. a moment of silence passes and you’re distracted by reno and kafka wrestling in the field. possibly being refereed by kikoru. mina hides her face from laughing. you both laugh too.

‘i didn’t want to do this by myself.’ he cuts the silence between the two of you. you turn to him. a content expression on his face. ‘i knew it wouldn’t be easy returning after so long. but i’m not the same boy i was when i left.’ he turns to you ‘i’m stronger now thanks to all of you.’

suddenly it’s hard to look him in the eyes, suddenly you palms start to sweat. your heart races. the last lingering sunlight on his face is so bright. you know what this feeling is and you want to kick your own ass for feeling it for your superior. ‘we can say the same about you.’

[emwheezie]

Do you have some fun facts about Enzo to share? Just wanna to know the guy a bit better.

This is Enzo Vincenzo! I've gotten a TON of asks about him, but was waiting to finish some art and work his story/character a bit more before answering! He's a character we thought up in 2014-15ish, but only recently worked in depth on his development. Pre apologies here, I'm longwinded when talking about my characters! (also it is 3:13am and I'm feeling silly)

Enzo is a secondary character in the comic, friend of the main character kind of deal. My cowriter and I love Enzo and are very happy that everyone else seems to like him too! We are making sure to develop all our characters as much as the two main characters so that we can create as rich of a story/universe as possible. (like we have so much content you could pick any random minor character and be like "them. make a spinoff about them" and we could just do that immediately we have so much content my brain is going to explode)

Enzo and Lennon are high school buddies who met sophomore year, shortly before Lennon dropped out. (peep the bottom art of them from their HS years)

Him and Lennon are big into movies. They binge watch them over the weekends or when he's convinced by Lennon to skip classes for the day.

Enzo loves to draw, especially dragons and horror related stuff. He posts his drawings on DeviantArt where he met xXHexiLexi328Xx and fell in love with her. She's also an artist who loves to draw super kawaii anime chibis magical girls and pokemon stuff.

No one thinks Hexi Lexi is a real person. Everyone's like "awh poor Enzo, still single...you'll find someone, buddy." But she's real and from Arkansas. (like that state even exists?)

Enzo loves knives. His favorite one is a switchblade engraved with the name "Colleen." He found Colleen at a Goodwill while he and Lennon were looking for parts to build a "Saw trap." (you know, from the Saw franchise) Enzo thinks he's Billy The Puppet from Saw...I mean, high school Enzo kind of had the same poofy hair and I'm not gonna be the one to tell him he didn't look like that puppet.

Somewhere along the way, early in their friendship, Lennon is convinced Enzo killed his parents. Lennon's never seen Enzo with his parents so I guess that's the only solution, right? It becomes a longstanding rumor/joke... and Lennon's like wow Enzo that's so cool I'm friends with a literal murderer. (Lennon is dumb).

Enzo once wanted to become a priest but then he remembered he was evil.

Enzo is Albanian-Italian and grew up in Cambridge, MA living with his parents and grandparents. His parents are super religious people who work at the restaurant his grandparents own, located in the North End of Boston.

It's a joke that Enzo's like never heard a music once in his life before meeting Lennon who introduced him to guitar. (He's rhythm guitar in Lennon and Tony's band Poison Boy Club)

I feel like I've said a lot of words and stuff. I feel like there's more but it's now 3:40am and my brain is mush. OH later on, Enzo really hones in on his art skills and gets into tattooing, earning himself an internship at a local studio.

Overall, Enzo's a cool, confident dude who's a little scary in a "big guard dog" type of way, but he's a loyal friend and does his own thing and he's with that.

[rotworld]

9: Meat Market

(previous)

you end up somewhere you'd rather not be. a familiar priest wants to make you feel welcome.

->contains gore, mind control, non-consensual touching, religious content.

.

.

.

You need a shower. 

You’d like to wash your clothes, bandage your knees and palms and lay down to ease the pressure on your sore hips and core, but all of that pales in comparison to your visceral need to rinse the grit and disgusting sticky sensation from your skin. You tilt the rearview mirror, examining the throbbing, tender bites and scratches adorning your skin. There’s a mark right where your neck meets your shoulder, not flushed and irritated like the rest. It’s faded like an old tattoo, just barely visible; symmetrical symbols, twin forking arches.

Antlers, you realize. Just high enough to peek out of the collar of your shirt.

It’s a long way to the University. You wouldn’t make it there tonight, even without this awful ache in your lower body. You scan the roadside for signs promising lodging or even a rest area, desperate for somewhere to stop. There’s nothing for a long time, even when you escape the lingering grasp of Verlinda and the treeline falls away. You see foggy plains and farmland, rows of ripe corn behind a wooden fence. For the first time in a while, you encounter other cars on the road. You see the finger-like silhouettes of factory smokestacks, a blocky city skyline in the distance.

You notice the smell as you drift into the exit lane. Sharp and savory—spices and dried meats. Your mouth waters. A shower, you think, and then maybe a hot meal. It’s a small town, you notice, more like Henley Creek than Prismville with its sleepy main street and quaint coffee shops. You drive slowly, looking for courier signs, but you see something else first; something that makes your heart skip a beat.

A metal sign straddles the road. A bridge gently arcs over a stylized river, colorful text following the curve. It says, “WELCOME TO NELTON.” You consider for a moment how desperate you really are.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: I ADORE YOU BY QUEEN ADREENA]

A river squirms through Nelton from north to south, sandy paths and old, soggy docks lining the bank. The city is a spacious, small town sprawl, meandering avenues dotted by benches, kitschy local shops and garland-wrapped streetlights. There’s some sort of special event or holiday coming up, implied by the colorful banners and 50% off sale signs, but not one you’re familiar with. 

Downtown is bustling. You’ve arrived just in time for the lunch rush, watching hurried foot traffic stream through cafe and diner doors. Churches pop up like weeds every few blocks but they’re smaller and in poor condition than you expect, white, wooden buildings that look like they might topple in a strong breeze. You park on a busy avenue, walking slowly by the windows of a florist, an antique shop, an apartment building, looking for courier signs. You’re starting to lose hope when you round the corner and nearly run into someone. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking—oh, hello again.” 

You stare at the man in front of you. Have you met before? He’s smiling like you have but nothing about him is particularly memorable. You feel like you’re flipping quickly through a product catalogue and all the models are blurring together, pleasing to the eye but unobtrusive so as not to distract from the rest of the image. He wears a white shirt and black slacks, suspenders curving over his shoulders. And gloves, you realize, black leather gloves. You ran into him in Prismville. 

“Courier! What a pleasant surprise!” There’s another man with him who you recognize immediately. Malachi is dressed in the same cassock as the last time you saw him, hands clasped together in front of his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here. Was it a long drive? Why don’t you join Mr. Bachman and I for lunch?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay, but I’m sure the two of you will have a lovely time.” Bachman smiles and slips past you gracefully. He claps a hand on your shoulder as he goes, leaning in just slightly. “Don’t eat anything they offer you,” he whispers. He walks unhurriedly to a small, silver car parked by the florist. When you turn back around, Malachi is slightly closer, his smile just a bit wider.

“I had no idea the two of you were acquainted. What a small world!” he says. 

Anticipating his charisma, the way he draws you in, doesn’t help. You feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaking out of your shoulders. The glow of his eyes is even fainter outside in the Drift’s weak daylight, but you notice the slightest golden hue rippling around his face. “We’re not, exactly. I saw him a while ago. Didn’t have time to introduce ourselves,” you admit.

“Ah, that sounds about right. He’s an anchorware repairman. Always rushing off to the next place, a bit like yourself. We just had to recalibrate our whole stabilizing array and I wasn’t sure it was done properly. It was kind of him to rush out and take a look—” Malachi cuts himself off suddenly, eyes widening in surprise. He hooks two fingers beneath the collar of your shirt and tugs it slightly to the side, staring, no doubt, at the mark of the Stag. “What happened here?” he says softly. 

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, leaning out of his reach. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I could really use a shower—”

“Goodness, of course,” he says, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. You’re walking before you’re fully aware of it, letting him guide you down the street. You’re leaving downtown, ambling down a long, green path to what looks like an industrial park. A massive complex of metallic buildings, steel walkways, and gaping delivery bays greets you at the end of the path. That spicy, savory smell you first noticed on the way into town is stronger here, almost cloying.

“Employee showers are in this building here. And no, nobody will mind,” he says, steering you towards a smaller, rectangular building with its own parking lot, separate from the rest of the factory. “You’d be more than welcome to use my bathroom if we were closer, but I live quite a ways from here. I’m sure you’d like to get cleaned up sooner rather than later.” 

Before long, you’re walking down a long, echoing hallway, passing people in stark white uniforms. Everyone smiles and nods or waves to Malachi, a few exchanging cheerful greetings. They’re polite to you but not overly friendly, seeming to sense your unease. The shower room is clean and spacious, and thankfully unoccupied when you arrive. There’s a plastic bench against the wall with clean towels stacked in a pile. The stalls are around the corner. You can’t help but notice Malachi lingers, leaning against the wall beside the bench. “You can leave your clothes with me. I’ll make sure nothing happens to them,” he says, smiling innocently. 

You’re too tired to argue. You go around the corner to undress, wrapping a towel around your body and hand off your clothes, extremely aware of Malachi’s fingers brushing against your hands. The lights are dimmer. The glow of his eyes is more noticeable and eerie. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asks, winking. “Are you delivering something, or just passing through? I suppose you’re always passing through, regardless.” 

You slip around the corner and into a shower stall, turning on the hot water. It’s heavenly, soothing on all your scrapes and scratches. “Just passing through,” you call over the hiss of running water. 

“Ah, the exciting life of a courier. Doesn’t it get lonely?”

You don’t answer, lathering some soap in your hands. The presence of amenities, several different scents and varieties of shampoo, makes you curious. “What is this place?” 

“Nelton’s biggest employer,” Malachi says wryly. “Food processing, meat packing, and animal feed manufacture, all under one roof. Or, well, a series of connected roofs. It’s a big complex. If you noticed a particular odor around town, this is where it comes from.”

“And it’s got showers,” you marvel. “Nice ones.” 

“Food is the heart of the community. Those who work with it are afforded the highest respect.”

You’re waiting for the invitation to lunch but it never comes. Are you being paranoid? There’s something odd about Malachi, and Bachman’s whispered warning is lingering in the back of your mind, but you towel off and get your clothes back without incident. 

“You’ve got plenty of daylight left,” Malachi says. “So I suppose I can’t convince you to stay a while longer.” His eyes flick down to your neck when you come out of the showers, an irritated twitch at the corner of his smile. “That’s a stubborn spot of dirt, isn’t it?” he says. 

You saw it in the mirror. The mark of the Stag didn’t come off, but you didn’t expect it to. “I’m sure it’ll come off eventually.”

He insists on walking you back to your car and you let him because it seems harmless, and you’re not sure you could navigate out of the factory complex alone anyway. You’re still a bit sore but you smell clean, at least, and your mood has lifted. Nelton’s peaceful scenery puts you at ease. The belltower spire of a courthouse periscopes from the center of downtown. A fried, buttery scent wafts from a seafood restaurant along the river. Wind skims across the surface of the water, stirring gentle waves.

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” Malachi asks, ambling along the sandy riverbank beside you. 

“It is,” you say. A pair of fishermen seated at the edge of a dock wave at the two of you. 

“Have you seen much of town? I meant to show you around. You might’ve noticed there aren’t any courier signs, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome. Just the opposite. Everyone in Nelton is more than happy to help a courier. Food, lodgings, supplies, whatever you need, you don’t need to worry about finding it here.”

“That’s generous,” you say. The suspicion must be evident in your voice or on your face. Malachi laughs softly.

“The law of Nelton is hospitality. It’s simply what we do here. We’re especially appreciative of couriers, of course, but anyone who comes all this way would receive the same treatment.” He pauses, gazing across the water. You stop beside him, watching the waves lap at the rocks and meandering tree roots on the far shore. “Our most important holiday is in less than a week, the Feeding of the Multitude. Are you familiar with that particular story from the Bible? It was one of the miracles of Jesus. He took a couple fish and a few loaves of bread, gave thanks for them, and distributed them among the faithful and needy. This blessed food fed thousands.” 

He’s watching you, you realize, studying your face. “Ah,” you say, unsure of what sort of reaction he’s expecting.

“That spirit of generosity is the essence of Nelton. Whether you follow the faith or not, it’s good to give, right? To feed the hungry and shelter the lost.”

He reaches for your hand and the thought that you should pull away passes through your mind, fizzling out just as quickly. It’s fine, isn’t it? You know he means well. He just wants to take care of you. His gaze is steady and warm, full of affection, as he tugs you closer. It occurs to you that this is strange, improper somehow, that a stranger and a priest of all things shouldn’t be holding you like this, but that thought, too, melts away.

“The truth is, a miracle happened here. Just like the fish and loaves,” he says quietly, so quietly you have to lean in closer. You get the sense that this is a secret he’s telling you, something not often given to outsiders. His hand is on your face, his thumb stroking your lips. His eyes are beautiful, gold like honey. “Are you hungry, courier?” 

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. You think that this isn’t right, that you were leaving, weren’t you? You were going to get back in your car and keep going south but that seems too difficult now, not worth the risk. Where is your car? Where’s the florist and the antique shop? Isn’t that where he was supposed to take you? Hunger rakes through your belly. You’re ravenous. You could eat everything you have, all the eggs and junk food the Singer gave you and still not be satisfied.

Malachi is still watching you. You don’t know what he sees but it’s something good, something right, happiness blooming in your chest as soft and sweet as spun sugar when he strokes your cheek. “Then I should feed you, shouldn’t I?” He holds your hand, lacing your fingers together, as he begins to walk again. You’re leaving the river behind, ascending a steep, grassy hill. Town is far away, small in the distance. How far did you walk without realizing it? 

There’s a church here that’s not like the others. It’s much bigger. It’s the same old style, the same white paint flaking from the exterior and the same dead leaves and spiderwebs gathered in its gutters, but its walls are wider, its steeple taller. Soft, golden light flickers beyond the windows but all you can make out are vague shapes and silhouettes. You stumble, your feet suddenly refusing to work. 

You can’t go in there. The thought is a lightning bolt, a sobering shock to your system. You absolutely cannot go in there. The Stag has a presence like a forest made of eyes, the paralyzing, primal gaze of ancestral predators and the weight of a hundred thousand trees. This is worse. You aren’t glimpsing the beast through a leafy canopy but wandering right up to its maw, engulfed in its hot, butcher shop breath. 

“It’s alright,” Malachi says gently. “Don’t be afraid, it’s alright. I know how it feels the first time.” 

“I can’t…” You shake your head and pull back, away from him, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip on your hand tightens. “I can’t, I can’t—”

“Holiness isn’t as pretty as they make it look in Renaissance paintings. It’s messy. Visceral. It breathes and it bleeds, just like us.” You sink to your knees and he follows you, kneeling in dry, prickly grass—red, you realize, the grass is red and the dirt is red and everything is slick and glistening and red. You are kneeling in the vivisected insides of a thing stretched and splayed across miles. The trees are stiff stalks of sinew and leaves of thin, veiny membranes that pulse and ooze. You smell meat, cooked and seasoned to perfection. Malachi cups your chin and urges you to look at him. 

“Let me go,” you beg him. “I don’t want this.” Fear, too, is a shriveling impulse, weak against the warmth of his hands stroking your hair.

“You do,” he coos. “You poor thing, I know you do. We’re all hungry and we all deserve to eat.” He cups your face in his hands and leans in so the gold of his eyes is all you see. Sharp, searing pain erupts in your neck and shoulder and you shove him off of you, scrambling back in the grass. You touch the spot, feeling for a wound. 

There’s nothing. Just the tingling heat of the Stag’s mark. Malachi looks shocked and then really, truly sad, gaze gentle with sympathy. He reaches out to you and you scramble to your feet, running without ever looking back. 

Nelton flickers around you. Sometimes you see the town, sometimes the flesh. Squirming ropes of intestines dangle like power lines. The road is cobblestone, and then it’s a row of teeth. You can’t tell which is real. People watch you, pausing their routines to peer out of windows and lean out of their cars. All of them frowning, all of them with furrowed brows and eyes emanating the same golden light. They don’t stop you. You’re afraid they know something you don’t.

Your car is where you left it. You screech out of your parking spot and make a beeline for the edge of town. The red fades. The road, stone and sterile, welcomes you back. That savory smell lingers for a while, and then it turns sour. You feel nauseous. The sky darkens and you check your clock, discovering your brief trip through Nelton cost you several hours. The sun will set soon and you feel worse than before, sick and exhausted and dirty all over again. Turning back isn’t an option. You’ll have to settle for the next place you see. Whatever you find, you assure yourself, it can’t be any worse than where you just came from.

(next)

[esther-dot]

GRRM Interview from 2011

I: Well, one thing that always came up with Lost was this idea of, they better have the ending figured out. I want them to know right from the beginning what the plan is. As a storyteller, do you believe that that is what you should be doing? Is it even possible?

GRRM: I think it’s possible to an extent. Well first of all, there are different kinds of writers. I’ve given this lecture in many of my talks. I like to say that there are two kinds of writers, there are the architects and the gardeners. And the architects plan everything ahead of time before they write the first word of a novel. They do all the world building, they know how many rooms the house is going to have and they know how they will flow to each other and how high each floor is going to be and where the electricity and the plumbing is going to go and everything. Before they even nail up the first board.

And then there are the gardeners who just sort of dig a hole and they put a seed in it and they water it with their blood and then something starts to grow. Now, they usually know that they plant a peach tree or did they plant a cactus. But the precise shape its going to take they don’t know. I think all most writers are somewhere in the middle, you know. I’m much more of a gardener than an architect and so was Tolkien .

But I like to compare my books to a journey. Like that map there [gestures to a U.S. map on the wall]. If you were going from Los Angeles to New York, you would look at a map like that and you would say, well, okay, I’m going to leave and I’m going to follow the route through Albuquerque and I’m gonna go north to Denver… So you know your eventual destination and the main roads and some of the big landmarks you’re going to go through, but you don’t know where you’re gonna stop for dinner the first night, or where there’s gonna be road construction that will force you to take a detour, where a hitchhiker is going to show up on the side of the road and tell you a fascinating story. These are the things you discover during the journey.

I know the ultimate destination, I know the principal landmarks and things that happen along the way, like [big event redacted] which had been planned from the beginning and all of that. But some of them I discover in the writing. Essentially I know the big stuff, but a lot of little stuff occurs in the course of the writing. And of course some of the little stuff is very, very important. The devil is in the details. The devil is what makes the journey more than just an outline or a Cliff’s Notes kind of experience. So I may know the ultimate fates of Jon Snow and Daenerys and Arya and some of the other principal characters. But I don’t necessarily know the ultimate fates of Dolorous Edd or Hot Pie, you know. Well, I have a few ideas about those, but still. (link)

[spacefinch]

MSB rambles: locations

As anyone who’s watched the Magic School Bus series knows, the show is mostly set in Walkerville, a made-up town. However, they never specify where it is, except for “in the USA.” They don’t specify what state, or even what region of the country it’s in. But here are my observations.

In “Gets Eaten,” Ms. Frizzle drives the class to the beach, while the bus is in normal bus mode. The beach looks like a California beach to me (based on my experience going to beaches there), and a sea otter makes a brief appearance. In the US, sea otters are only found along the west coast.

In a few episodes (Getting Energized, Rocks and Rolls, etc…), it’s shown that there are mountains/foothills just outside Walkerville, and that there’s snow on top for at least part of the year.

We know it snows during the winter in town as well. (Source: MSB Holiday Special)

There is a swamp with alligators and blue jays within driving distance of town, as shown in “Butterfly and the Bog Beast.” The whole vibe of the swamp feels very southern to me. (Note: “driving distance” might not necessarily mean said swamp is near town. Could just be that anywhere is driving distance on the Magic School Bus.)

In “Gets Swamped” we see that there is a more marshy swamp in town. The main vegetation is reeds and small shrubs, and the animal life consists of species such as snapping turtles, muskrats, wood ducks, harriers (marsh hawks), bullfrogs, red-winged blackbirds, and dragonflies. This suggests a more northern location for Walkerville.

In “Goes to Mussel Beach,” the mussels are described as “Mytilus californianus” aka the California Mussel, a species only found along the west coast. Again, we have no idea how far away the beach is from town, but it’s a different beach than the one in “Gets Eaten.”

In “Kicks Up a Storm” the outside temperature gets to a high of 99 degrees Fahrenheit— which, judging by the kids’ reactions, is too hot for them. As a Californian, I can sympathize with this.

In “All Dried Up,” the bus (in plane mode) must fly over a mountain range to get to what looks like the Sonoran Desert. Which mountain range they fly over is not specified.

In the book “The Truth About Bats,” it is stated that in order to see bats in Yosemite National Park, the class must fly to California— thus implying that Walkerville is not located in my home state.

In “Goes to Seed,” there is a Ruby-throated hummingbird (at least that’s what I think it is) in the garden at Phoebe’s old school. The Ruby-throated hummingbird lives mainly in the eastern half of the US.

In “In a Beehive,” Tim mentions a “big frost” approaching. Again, this suggests Walkerville is somewhere Up North. (We don’t get a “big frost” where I live— just a few smaller frosts.)

In “In the City,” we see that some of Walkerville’s urban wildlife includes peregrine falcons, red foxes, opossums, raccoons, and nighthawks. It is also implied that bears live in the woods outside of town.

In the book “The Wild Whale Watch,” the New England coast is a short drive from school, which directly contradicts my observations about coastal locations in the show.

The woodpecker in “Meets the Rot Squad” is a red-bellied woodpecker, a species found in the eastern US.

In the book “Rocky Road Trip,” Carlos says that he collected some of the rocks in his collection near “the Saddle River.” I looked it up, and in the real world, Saddle River runs through New York and New Jersey. (But for all we know, the Saddle River in the book could be made up just like Walkerville.)

In “Ups and Downs,” we see that Walkerville is located near a good-sized lake— large and deep enough for a submarine to dive in, and with plenty of underwater vegetation.

In terms of continuity, there is no continuity when it comes to where the heck Walkerville is. This sometimes frustrates my overanalytical brain. So, I leave it to you, fellow Magic School Bus fans, to answer the question:

Map for reference!

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 10, "The Bracebridge Dinner" Part 1

You can read my previous reviews here.

Brace-Bridge Din-Ner Brace-Bridge Din-ner Brace-Bridge Din-Ner YEAH!!!

Motivational Plaque: In a Sea of Run Away Little Boy's, be a Bracebridge Dinner. This is my third favorite episode after "They Shoot Gilmores Don't They"?" and "Lorelai's Graduation Day"! (I know I said it was #2 in my previous post but I somehow forgot about LGD). I can watch it over and over!

It's a beautiful winter's day in Star Hollow. There's a crisp chill in the air, the unemployed townies are hard at work building snowmen, Taylor Doose has assembled yet another front for his financial crimes ("The Stars Hollow Winter Festival", not to be confused with "The Stars Hollow Winter Carnival") and somewhere in North Carolina, Diet Logan is getting hazed at Military School. Ahhhhh. *breathes in* All is right in the world. For now. Lorelai and Rory are complaining that Snow's mouth is crooked and Rory says she has "stroke mouth" which is not a very nice thing to say, and all I could think about is poor Milo.

Me when Dean shows up in a few minutes (but at least he mostly stays in his lane and manages to not completely ruin this episode for once).

No, no, no, no. CHRISTOPHER is in this flawless episode? How did I black him out of my memory?

Jackson's like, "Uh, come again Sookie?"

Uh oh is right. Of course he has a sign that says OBEY. with a giant creepy eye. GTFO out of my 3rd Favorite Episode, what are you doing here you fucklenut? "I know Rory has a school break coming up and I'd like her to come and visit for a few days." How CONVENIENT. Summary: Crusty:Ask Rory if she wants to visit me. Lorelai: Okay will do. ANNYWAAAY Does anyone else wonder where Jess is whenever he isn't around? Just me? Okay..

Have I ever mentioned how fascinated I am by the offscreen, unseen world of the Rory-less life at Stars Hollow High School? Yeah, I know, several times. I admit it's kind of weird that I'm obsssed with an imaginary world where Dean would be a main character.

PUT ON A COAT SWEETIE YOU'RE GONNA CATCH PNEUMONIA!

I am Jess Mariano's defense lawyer, and whatever this Chuck Presby did, I'm sure he deserved it.

Those curly curls. "You saw it was me Jess, why did you keep punching?" *shrugs* "I had momentum." Valid defense. Free my client he is innocent.

Thiiiin lips! Oh he mad. "Luke's coming to the dinner with Jess." "I'll put Jess in a room with Miss Patty." "There will be no Jess left in the morning." I'm starting to think Miss Patty is on a sex offender registry.

Me to anyone who doesn't like my commentary.

Who let Crustypher have a dog? Where is the dog? Should I call the ASPCA?

An appearance by Babette makes any episode better.

Clara is me. I am Clara.

Is this the debut of Jess' Ugly Oversized Vomit Brown Coat? What wretched church donation bin did Liz find this thing in? The only inanimate object I despise more than the Stars Hollow Bridge is this coat.

Hi.

Dean: He better not do that all night. Do what all night? Wave at people? Shut the fuck up.

Hi.

(portrait of the author watching this scene)

Jess & Luke reacting to "there are horse drawn sleighs outside and everyone gets a ride." Lorelai: There's something so magical about Stars Hollow this time of year. Luke: Yeah, there's the magical plumbing supply store where I bought a magical toilet float last year. Listen up everybody! Luke Danes has learned the secret of parenting and he's going to tell us what it is! Luke: I learned that sometimes you gotta lie to your kid to spare them a lot of hurt. Liz knew that Jess had some time off from school, but she never called, so I lied to him and told him his Mom wanted him to come home but since he was still adjusting here that I thought he should stay, and that his Mom was really upset by that but I insisted he stay here. He bought it hook, line and sinker. Heh heh. What?

Also. Like Liz Danes would be sober enough to know or care that he was on winter break.

Jess, sweetheart, my love, my darling traumatized baby boy, my little cupcake sweetymuffin cutiecookie with precious sprinkles on top, here's my credit card, go buy yourself a new coat. You deserve a treat after all you've been through. #BurnThatCoat

I just think it's reaaaal shifty that they bought Liz into the show as a regular character and they made her surface level cute and quirky! Look at the goofy hippy making bracelets for the renaissance faire! Teehee! Did they think I would forget shit like this? NO. I HATE HER.

Now, I think I should get something important out of the way in regards to these reviews. If it seems like I'm not saying much about Jess or Jess&Rory, it's not beacuse I don't absolutely adore the ever loving shit out of him. But everything that can ever be said about Jess and Rory has been said at this point. They have been analyzed, dramatized, scrutinized, gificized, lyricized, TaylorSwifticzed, FanficiSized and picked apart like a herd of hyenas going to town on an antelope. i don't think any other couple in the history of television whose tenuous and let's face it, quite unhappy relationship only lasted less than one season has been dissected as much as Literati. So if I don't put every little interaction, every line, every breath they take under a microscope and gloss over some things, don't hold it against me. Never you fret. Jess Mariano is always on my mind. Besides, my style is more about cynical mockery, searching for Millennial references, picking apart the things no one else cares about, coming up with new and creative ways for Dean Forrester to die, searching the background for misspelled signs, and begging Jess to buy a new coat. So yes I am intently watching the cute scene with Jess and Rory in the sleigh. I promise. With that out of the way...let's continue.

'The gang's all here. So nice. Ran out of room, part 2 in another post, you know the drill.

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

random notes on naddpod c1 ep 1-45

shared here in lieu of chewing my very indifferent friends' ears off irl. For whom it may concern. also why do i keep thinking i could keep these to a single post. this campaign has a hundred episodes.

spoiler warning! you will get no context but still

Scoutmaster Denny *murdered* me. The voice, the whole deal. I started this podcast on a trainride and fully lost it over Denny in public

“Let’s cast waterwalking on the boat!” “…Emily, that’s just a boat.”

Hardwon on the dumb mating call idea: "can't we just break a bunch of sticks or something? why do we have to make it horny?" and Murph losing the fucking plot in the background

DM lightly threatens player’s pet, endangers his marriage, more at 10

JONAH

“The animals are going batshit. Even the bats.”

legit every time they describe someone and then land on "they're just hot" almost nothing they describe works for me, it's kind of hilarious

also a truly staggering percentage of the NPCs are naked

Moonshine is saved by an almost literal Deus Ex Machina as Pawpaw descends from the Heavens carried by a very helpful centaur

-

The reaction to the last remaining dude attacking Beverly in the Ezry lab cracked me up. “We’re trying to watch a cutscene! Read the room!”

-

whenever Emily shows the slightest hint of disappointment or frustration the world will immediately alter just a little to make her feel better (like retroactively making the stairs unsafe because Emily saved a whole spell slot to climb the wall of the tower). This is the cutest shit and also it took them TWELVE episodes to call Murph out on it

(I'm much further into the podcast now and i can't believe none of them have tried to weaponise this blatant weakness even once)

-

A BROOMBA is sweeping the floor

nothing is better than Murph doing Pawpaw but his fucked-up sounding seagull is a close second. Truly capturing the personality of those damn bastards, the man is the king of the garbage critters

Emily feels SO guilty about sending this dumb bird to die

Coming into this with the only prior experience of DnD being Brennan and Aabria is kind of wild. Like D20 campaigns you'll get the big philosphical speeches for the emotional beats and here's Murph with an equally heartfelt "Life just sucks ass, you know?"

Hardwon finding out about his parents is SUCH a good scene

“Are they bioluminescent?” “No.” “Can they be?” “Yeah, okay.” (16/17)

“Get out of town!” “I can’t, I’m a mushroom. I just stay here.”

Emily: “Oh, scrying means spying!” “It doesn’t, but-“ Murph, .2 seconds within Emily getting ‘um actually’-ied on dnd: “It does in this game, wiseass.”

Ol' Cobb’s big day!

When Hardwon goes down and the whole table has to watch Murph fight this intense squirmish against himself. Just a guy rolling dice and talking to himself. God that’s so funny (19/20)

Bev’s big day! Also Bev’s first kiss! (19-20)

-

they’re really going all out for Ol' Cobb. Now he has a tragic lovestory too! (21)

“The High Elves believe that they were banished because they were cousins who wanted to get married. The Crick Elves believe they were third cousins at most. The truth is somewhere in-between.” “Second cousins?” “They were second cousins.”

Not to be cheesy on main but the Crick is such a love letter. Like it’s so obvious how much care and heart went into this almagation of all the silly asides Emily has thrown out

I have one (1) American irl friend and they're from a smalltown in North Carolina so all I'm hearing is people approximating my friend's accent with varying consistency and success

the Crick sounds like paradise and my worst nightmare, simultaneously

having Pawpaw's mother speak and also speak in the most matter-of-fact serious tone (22) is the funniest thing to ever happen. truly inspired.

Hardwon swears fealty to a middle-aged possum? what is happening

Jake v Murph’s ice ban is priceless (23) - “I caught Jake downstairs shovelling ice into his drink out of a bucket with a scoop - you had a scoop! - and he tried to cover it up and hide it!” “It was a joke!” “It sounds like you got caught though! Can you get caught making a joke?” #lifttheiceban

“I’m sure people will get the expedited version of the puzzle solving section-“ “No, give them the nine-hour cut, with just a full hour of us screaming at Murph begging for the answer.” “Join us for our new podcast, Puzzle Dullards.” (23)

Increasingly chaotic openings: “I am furious and I am also Brian Murphy” “If you edit out all my binks, I swear to Melora I’ll… I’m gonna pants you in your sleep!” (24)

Moonshine describing marble as “polite rock”

Emily attempts some straight up gaslighting: “Can I summon Illuminate Mystery?” “…that’s not… that’s not a real spell, you jerk.”

“Murph, if you kill Meemaw regardless of what happens in the fog just because it’s narratively interesting, I will sleep on the couch. For months.” “If Murph sleeps on the couch, is that a Murphy bed?” “No, I’ll sleep on the couch.” “Okay, if Meemaw dies, Emily will be punishing herself.” (25)

Not Murph giving Moonshine crickrot only to be audibly distressed when Emily is sad about it (26)

And then channeling this distress through her fictional pet possum

Pawpaw really is the funniest self-insert character of all time

“Balnor, are you from WWI?” I adore this theory and wish it were canon. But also he talked about fridges a bunch so probably not?

Okay but in all seriousness the whole Marabelle arc is SO GOOD

And Hardwon’s earnest devotion to Mawmaw is actually oddly touching ngl

-

Murph as the voice of Hardwon’s drug addiction is *devious* (30)

That NPC casino employee making zero efforts at the pirate lingo

Siobhan’s character trying to talk to Pawpaw!! Pawpaw being described as Moonshine’s accountant!!

Literally my reaction whenever pawpaw makes an appearance:

Moonshine backing out of that threesome and opting back in like five times and also roping Balnor into it is GOLD

Genuinely the strategy to fake an immediate orgasm and sprint out in embarrassment is actually probably not the worst way to get out of a foursome? Maybe?

"And Siobhan Thompson as Apple Scrumper." "MVP! MVP! MVP!" "Yeah, Apple is the only one conscious right now." "Right now, MVP stands for Most Vertical Person."

Murph treating his Jersey accent like a full-on speech impediment

"Why are you writing that down? I haven't given you guys anything!" "This is Caldwell, out of character, trying to be helpful!" "No, this is Caldwell, out of character, wanting that money for Bev!"

(in)voluntary horse murder

Emily's thornwhip move!! her MIND

-

"So do we go and look for him or do I just cast Skywrite and make the clouds say something threatening to him?" "You're going to threaten him with clouds? Okay."

"LIAR! LIAR BOY! YOU'RE NOT A REAL GREEN TEEN!" "I would never lie! It's true! The stratosphere wouldn't allow for it, I'm sorry!"

Murph making a huge deal about how it would be impossible to see skywriting at night when the way bigger issue is that Moonshine is illiterate. They keep forgetting that and it's funny every time

Moonshine firmly believing that Pawpaw knows how to write and him just writing "MO" every time is my absolute favourite bit I hope it never ends

"Wait a minute, you're in the middle of a swamp and you summoned a big, beefy horse?" "Horses can swim! Horses can swim!" "We've all seen Neverending Story, okay?" [crowd boos] "I will kill your horse! I dare you to boo me!" "Don't boo, he thrives off of it..."

Murph is channeling so much rage at something workout related here. who hurt you

"You all killed my family! My friends!" "You also did that." "You might have killed more of them than we did." "Truly all I did was hold a door shut." This is vicious I forgot how off the walls fucked up the whole Josh thing was

"Shit now I gotta do math in front of people."

Caldwell's silly little poems are actually so fucking impressive tho

"What's the damage on that?" "Rolling still." that is SO ominous

-

Spent this entire fight thinking the Watchman was throwing I beams at the BOB. Deeply confused when Murph said his players would get mad at him if he didn’t count those as spells. They meant “eye beams” as in laser beams from his eyes, and bottom line is English sucks because you can’t communicate anything clearly

-

“Murph, you’re living it up in this city.” “Yeah, you’ve invented a city full of anti-goof robots.” “The anti-goof police is out in full force.”

Murph setting up a super high-stakes social environment where the cast cannot pull their usual shenanigans and then deciding this will also be the arc where all the NPCs relentlessly flirt at Moonshine is honestly hilarious

holy shit no punches are being pulled in first half of the Frostwind arc. yeesh

Their massively lame "Headgum does Red Wedding" bit

Emily's Melora bits finally went too far: "Oh, Melora is masturbating in the corner!" "... Jesus." "Eww! That's the worst one!" "That is some Blumhouse shit, Emily!"

I think this podcast is the first time I've ever heard the word “brazier” actually pronounced out loud, and I hate it! please stop saying it

Murph taking the occasional run up at the fourth wall to go 'hey this is pretty good! who wrote this' always amuses me. i get it, if I could do that with my own writing i would

the 'one big bed' bit warms my heart. They keep trying to make it weird but honestly i still mostly come away missing big sleepovers

"I'm not afraid of the elements! The nature of mushrooms is sort of -" "Moonshine... mushrooms don't grow here." *Moonshine's life flashes before her eyes*

I know Balnor just confirmed he was around post early 80s because he quoted ESB, but the way he reacted to that whole gnarly giant murder and disembowelment is *really* giving WWI vibes

Starting to suspect Murph also just learned how to pronounce brazier. There seem to be a weird amount of them around, nobody has a campfire or an oven or a hearth or a fireplace…

The life and times of Ram Daniel

“I can’t tell you what a bad place this was to do a blood ritual.” Oh what a good and reassuring thing to hear from your DM

Murph starting to rate their little intros and immediately getting "bullied" into changing Emily's grade to an A (43)

“I sing a quick Gashlight Anthem”

Emily rolling for her dream and dreaming about Pawpaw dissolving, “that’s a one roll you monster!”

Murph stop making fantasy meth sound fun challenge

This party being fifty percent functionally illiterate is somehow still funny

-

"Bev crit on finding Werther's one time, and then failed a check to see cannons coming at his house, and his mom, his boyfriend and his grandma almost died."

"Everyone is hot, everyone is horny, welcome to NADDPod" well at least he admits it

[shiveringsoldier]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

Thank you @liliaenbaggins for tagging me :)

1. Are you named after anyone?

I’m named after my great-grandmother Lillian. My dad is Jewish, and it’s tradition for Jewish people to name their children after family members who have passed away. That can mean either giving your child the same name or a name beginning with the same letter, and for me my parents went with the same letter option.

2. When was the last time you cried?

A few days ago. I was having one of those work days where I felt like I wasn’t doing anything right.

3. Do you have kids?

I don’t

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I use some sarcasm, but not as much as I used to

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played softball for one year when I was ten years old, but that’s it

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Either hair or clothes

7. What’s your eye color?

Brown

8. Scary endings or happy endings?

Happy endings I guess? But my real answer is whatever kind of ending is most thematically appropriate, whether that be happy, tragic, or somewhere in between.

9. Any special talents?

I have perfect pitch if that counts

10. Where were you born?

The United States, specifically North Carolina

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading is my main hobby at the moment. Once I’m more settled in at my new apartment/new job, I hope to see about choirs in the area and maybe join one.

12. Do you have any pets?

I have a cat :)

13. How tall are you?

5′10″ or about 178 cm

14. Favorite subject in school?

When I was in high school, my favorite subject was probably English; I was lucky enough to have a challenging but very good English teacher for two out of four years. In college, my favorite subject was music history, but I also got to take one class on Tolkien and a seminar on the life and works of C.S. Lewis, and those were my favorite classes I took that weren’t for my major.

15. Dream job?

I would love to work in a music library. Ideally I think I would want to work in cataloging or something that doesn’t involve a lot of customer service, but if I could end up working in a music or performing arts library I’d happily take just about any job.

Tagging @ancientbread @filmamir @illegible-scribble @lightpossession @oysterloaf @spacedadpicard and umbrella tagging anyone who wants to do this!

[tortoisesshells]

made up fic titles, because i think I missed it earlier - the color of fruit. :)))

i was going to say a north & south au of customs but a brief review of the plot reveals that altering the base plot of "arrival of a high status outsider from England to more commercial/industrial area in the North American colonies, has culture and ideological clash with emotionally shut-down merchant with a weird family and a beating heart in there somewhere" to, uh [checks notes] "arrival of a genteel outsider from the south of England to more commercial/industrial area in the North, has culture and ideological clash with emotionally shut-down industrialist with a weird family and a beating heart in there somewhere" isn't the genre changer I might want it to be.

whoops.

In all seriousness, I think I'd write a missing scene/coda to the main action of The Curse of the Black Pearl, in between the action at Isla de Muerta and Jack's near-hanging, with Elizabeth trying and failing to reconcile what happened with the life she's being pulled back into in Port Royal - that so much of what occurred defies the explanation of natural philosophy (skeletal pirates!) but equally as inexplicably she's become that much unhappier with her life as Miss Swann, the governor's daughter. As much as she tries to talk about it all - her kidnapping, the curse - the people she trusts around her (her father, her old friends, her new fiance) don't fully understand her, and for reasons of their own don't want to discuss the situation.

I'm working around to some tortured metaphor about Barbossa's bowl of apples being Granny Smiths, a cultivar would not exist until the 1860s, which may be overly pedantic on my end, but the apples are just another piece of the impossibility of the Black Pearl. What else might be possible in the impossible world of the pirates? Jack Sparrow would know, but he's not long for this world, and she does not know how to change that.

send me an ask with a fake title, and I’ll tell you what I would write to go with it!

[pascalls]

I'm answering ALL OF THESE IN ONE POST LOL because some of them are good questions! Check out my answers under the read-more!

Charlie's current living situation in the Simpsons Universe is either in Reverend Lovejoy's basement, somewhere under a table at Moe's, or in one of Sam's trucks. He'll bounce back and forth from place to place- if none of the three are available, he'll find sleep in a dumpster somewhere. He's not very picky. I wrote about him sleeping in the trash in Gazebo of Horrors.

In most AUs, Charlie can speak conversational French, but nothing else.

His mutation in the Simpsons universe was immediate and complete. He won't continue to mutate further. Any larger doses of whatever Burns gave him would probably just end up killing him. I would imagine that it was kind of a funny werewolf-style transformation in Simpsons universe. In other, more realistic universes, his transformation was gradual, painful, and not at all pleasant. His voice is the same before and after the transformation! In Simpsons universe, he is American- in most other universes, he is from North London and has a fairly heavy cockney accent.

The transformation changed a lot about how Charlie perceives the world. He relies a lot heavier on scent and hearing now, and he does occasionally shed scales. He's also highly sensitive to cold temperatures. Most medicines, however, will still work on him. He's just prone to addiction- but that was evident even before his transformation. The mutation has not affected his sexual health in any significant way in the Simpsons universe. In others, he is known to be very fertile and can produce a lot of offspring with both humans and individuals of other humanoid species (werewolves, aliens, dragons, etc.) It gets weird and muddy. But he's known to have a fairly high sex drive post-mutation.

Yes, as stated above, Charlie has developed more animalistic behaviors and instincts. He's known to be territorial over mates or potential mates (or partners, putting it more politely). He's aggressive when challenged and is prone to biting and clawing in a fight as opposed to punching and kicking.

Charlie has never spoken or talked to the Parson. If they were to meet, Charlie would not be a fan of him. He's too smooth talking and he seems way too snooty. Charlie would put super glue on his chair.

I HAVEN'T SEEN THE RECENT EPISODES so I'm probably just like unaware of this entirely lmao but I don't think Charlie would have much knowledge of the relationship between Homer and Chalmers either. In his mind, those are two separate people who he has individual relationships with. Rarely would they be seen together as a threesome.

Charlie's tail is prehensile, but it's pretty heavy. He doesn't utilize it much AS an extended appendage, but he can, in a pinch. The funnest thing he does is lean back on his tail and use it as a balance so he can kangaroo kick someone right in the gut.

Charlie's tail is probably tugged on a lot during sex... I can imagine that it might have posed an interesting dynamic when first introduced to Lovejoy and Sam- but I think Chalmers would've been like "OH COOL, LET ME PULL THIS UNTIL IT HURTS". Sam would get used to it. Lovejoy would continue to be horribly awkward about it every time.

Charlie's eyesight has never been phenomenal. It got better with the mutation, not worse. But in almost every universe, his eyesight will suffer in some way, shape, or form. In his main universe, he is now blind. In Simpson's universe, he just needs them to see detailed things from far away.

Post-transformation, Charlie probably stole a lot of food out of the trash. His first decent meal was probably not until he could steal MONEY and then go order take-out or something. But he's never really been in danger of starvation.

I'd like to think Mr. Burns forgot about Charlie like literally two days after he disappeared- he had other weird shit to do. Smithers is 100% aware of Charlie (considering they sort of have a friends with benefits thing going on), but isn't keen on reminding Mr. Burns about it UNLESS he feels particularly like a bitch or if Charlie does something to piss him off. So far, so good. Mr. Burns probably didn't say much about Charlie's disappearance. He wasn't a popular dude before the incident, so it's not like anyone really cared LOL.

YES, you may draw her. Her name is Carla!

Charlie can probably pick apart a few words in Spanish, but not much! The only words he'd be familiar with are any that also sound similar to French.

His parents are worse. He would prefer to be caught by Mr. Burns.

Pokemon!Charlie would be a normal human! But he'd specialize in lizard/dragon/dinosaur pokemon. He actually has a team that I've developed before! It consists of Krookodile, Archen, Goomy, Breloom, Heliolisk, and Cranidos! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE QUASTIONS!

[thrudgelmir2333]

Things I'd put in Poseidon's Sanctuary

This was originally written for the following Reddit Thread by Successful_Put872. I just had a bit of fun with it, even came up with sea monster aquariums, so I thought I'd share it here, too.

What locations or places would you add to expand Poseidon's underwater fortress?

This is just me tossing a couple of ideas I discussed on chat in 5 minutes, but I would put:

Temples to important figures of Poseidon's family; such as Amphitrite, Triton, Arion and perhaps even fellow Olympians. Life in ancient greece was polytheistic with populations paying tribute to various gods depending on the need. Even if you are a Mariner, chances are you're not gonna pray to Poseidon for your opponents to be struck with Phobos' fear. Moreover, you can tell from Krishna that Hinduism and Buddhism are a thing down there, too.

Massive coral reefs and trenches in the terrain. Poseidon's sanctuary's floor is drawn to emulate the bottom of the seabed but inside a pocket of oxygen, so you can imagine all sorts of natural wonders being in it, like big stretches of reefs and abysses like the Marianna Trench. It adds geographic character.

Gardens, palaces and more temples; The Sanctuary of Poseidon is supposedly habitated by Poseidon, his generals and their soldiers, who in case you haven't notice, are kind of ostentatious people. They would love nothing more than surround the Pillars, their barracks and their palaces with fields and architecture displaying the splendour of Poseidon's rule. Oh, and you just know Caça would insist on having a brothel somewhere around.

Architectural wonders and freaking Fresh Water; Speaking of splendour, it makes perfect sense for Sanctuary's Poseidon to have things like really long stairs leading to the bottom of a dry trench, roman-style highways leading to the Main Breadwinner from all other corners of his Sanctuary, aqueducts/canals for fresh water (cause they live at the bottom of the sea so that's probably important).

Stables; Poseidon is the God of Horses, too, not just the sea, and Saint Seiya has shown that Saints do like riding around, so it makes sense for there to be big horse stables on the scale of alike that of the Persian Empire. Pastures, naturally, would be on the surface. It's probably not a good idea to have horses eat seabed grass.

A massive Earthquake machine; Speaking of things Poseidon is a god of, why not just have a big broken earthquake machine somewhere in his Sanctuary? He could use it to kill humanity or something, like Moleman. You can totally picture that might have been his approach in a previous Holy War and Saints might have just broken it and taken the one part that makes it work back to Athena's Sanctuary.

Sunk ships and submarines; just have famous sunk ships litter the fields. Why not? Put something missing from the Titanic in the North Atlantic pillar, or just have some Russian nuclear submarine rammed straight into the membrane separating the Oxygen pocket from the ocean waters. At the very least, that would be funny to look at.

Statues, Halls and Monuments; Just include a shitload of monuments to famous Mariners, Poseidon figures or something. Put them everywhere. Have Shiryu reach the Indic Ocean pillar and see some kind of big fuck-off Colossus dedicated to Prince Chrysaor.

Giant Aquarium filled with sea monsters; Come on. How the hell is this NOT a thing? There's a whole freaking manga about Mariners being published and they don't think of this? Don't even bother with silly sharks, but give Poseidon a big fuck-off extinct sea monster, like that carnivorous Sperm Whale discovered in Peru, and put it in an enormous aquarium right behind his throne. He can use it to intimidate fools and impress the ladies. Ladies love sea monsters.

Hydrotherman Vent Oracle: Have an Oracle building somewhere in it, and the way the Oracle has prophecies is she gets high off the fumes of seabed hydrothermal vents. Maybe if Poseidon hadn't invested in one, someone would tell Julian kidnapping Saori was a terrible idea.

Scale material Mines: Have giant mining networks extracting stardust, orichalcum and whatever the Mariners need to fix their armors. And idk, have some enslaved Muvian doing the work for them. Poseidon sunk their continent so they probably wouldn't help him willingly.

Seabed Catapult Cannon: Have a giant cannon to shoot people out of the ocean bed into the surface, like in the game SOMA. I can totally picture Sea Horse Generals building such a thing just to punish officers. You look at Baian the wrong way, and he won't even bother with his dumb technique; he'll just load you into the barrel

A Zoo Park; Yes, that's right. And no, this isn't about Io and his stupid powers. People love animals and the freaking generals have to stay down there in the seabed. Just have a park with normal animals in it, birds, whatever the mariners need to have a sense of normalcy down there. And you know Poseidon would love a pet lion. Fish are boring unless they're sea monsters (See point 9).

See, if you just stop for five minutes to think about it, you can come up with all sorts of fun stuff. I didn't even think too hard about these. You gotta wonder how little thought was put into Poseidon's Sanctuary, then, both when Kurumada was coming up with it and when they decided to "Soul of Gold" it with Rerise. But I guess eight pillars and a palace would drain anyone's imagination...

[lifeafterthelayoff]

DAY 55

Drove by the old K-12 school in my hometown on my way back home.

That's right – kindergarten through 12th grade, 400 total students, all in the same building. You walked in at age five for your first day of school ever and stayed a student there until you walked out of the other end as a graduating senior.

No getting to know a new floor plan, no wondering where the bathrooms are. You knew because you always knew. We all ate in the same cafeteria. For many years, we all shared the same gymnasium.

Some of my classmates stayed local, becoming members of the community as adults. Their kids are in the same Boy Scouts troop that we were in. Some even own businesses on Main Street. The town's population hovers around 1,200 people, and it has for years.

After washing the gravel road dust off of my car at the self-service car wash at the north end of town, I told my daughter that we were driving by the school building.

"Does it look the same?" she asked.

"Pretty much," I said.

"Even the playground equipment?"

"Well, they got rid of the rusty, bone-crushing playground equipment of my youth. Other than that, it's the same. Here's the kindergarten, first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth grade rooms," I said as we drove slowly by.

I took a left turn so she could see the rest of the L-shaped building. "There's the old gym, and..."

This busted old upright piano sitting in someone's driveway across the street from the school interrupted my train of thought.

I continued, "Here's where the junior and senior high students shared classrooms. I took shop class in that part. And here's the new gym."

We turned the car around in the parking lot where I used to park my 1986 Mustang before going to class. We went back down the street and I said (as I often do), "I need to take a picture of that piano."

It's an odd sight, this piano. It looks pretty busted up. Having gotten my third job rejection in three days (including one a couple of hours prior to the school visit), I was beginning to think there was a metaphor in between the keys somewhere. You can see my school in the background of this pic.

I got back in the car, and pointed it north. Tomorrow's another day.

[azvolrien]

Jordan - Day 3

           Today was indeed an early start – we had to leave the hotel by 7am, meaning we had to be up at 6 for breakfast – but it was worth it even if it turned out not to be entirely necessary.

           We piled onto the minibus as instructed and set off for the first scheduled stop of our tour – and my personal highlight for the day – in the city of Jerash about an hour north of Amman. Known to the Romans as Gerasa, this city is home to some of the finest Roman remains in the whole of the Middle East. The site is vast, and despite some earthquake damage over the years is still in remarkably good condition. The visitor entrance is to the south, overlooked by a colossal triumphal arch built in honour of Emperor Hadrian (he of wall fame) that presumably would have been even bigger in its heyday. From there a modern pedestrian route paved in limestone stretches north, past the old hippodrome where I think they still do some re-enactments of chariot races, hopefully with a few more safety precautions than the Romans had, up to the South Gate of the main site.

           There we stood around for a while waiting for the security guards to open said gate, as the site didn’t open until a little later than our guide thought it did. She had checked, so this must have been a recent development.

           Gate open, we walked up the steep but mercifully short hill to the South Theatre, the bigger of the old city’s two theatres, though a bit smaller than the one in Amman and a free-standing stone structure rather than carved from the bedrock. We explored the theatre for a little while before heading back down the hill to the Forum, where Reem gave us a quick talk about the history of the site before giving us an hour of free time to wander the ruins. The Forum itself is an impressive sight, being an unusual oval shape and ringed by sixty-odd surviving columns.

           Mum and I set off up the main road of the site, an equally impressive colonnade named the Cardo Maximus, past the Nymphaeum up to the centrepiece of the site, the Temple of Artemis. A lot of the stone was scavenged for building, but it must have been an astonishing site in its prime. It’s still pretty impressive now, with a mostly-intact cella with a few of its columns still in place around it and a huge courtyard around those that overlooks the whole site. I would have liked a little more time to explore the site, but we needed to meet back up with the group and walked back for a look at the Temple of Zeus before heading for the meeting point and getting some crisps to replenish our salt levels.

           We left Jerash and, after a brief stop at a nice bakery for lunch, made for the famous Dead Sea. Strictly speaking it’s more of a salt lake than a sea, but ‘dead’ is accurate enough, at least where marine life is concerned. We stopped at one of the many spa resorts along the coast and changed into our swimsuits for some time on the beach.

           It was worth seeing at least once and floating in the hypersaline water was an interesting experience, but 408 metres below sea level in the Middle East made for some uncomfortably high temperatures, verging on unbearably so whenever the wind dropped, and despite the location it was still basically just a beach hotel, so I was happy enough to buy a t-shirt in the hotel gift shop and get back on the bus to return to Amman. It’s difficult to feel you’ve rinsed off properly until you’ve done the rinsing somewhere other than the immediate vicinity of the Dead Sea, because even the air there feels saturated with salt.

           Then, in the evening, Reem took the group out for a meal at a local restaurant, which seemed to be where all the trendy young Jordanians go to eat. I had a short of barbecued beef kebab thing, which was a bit closer to ‘charred’ than I usually like beef but it had a nice flavour to it.