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eyreguide · 5 years ago

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Jane Eyre’s Library

The novel Jane Eyre is full of literary references, allusions, and quotations that enrich the story and showcase how well-read Charlotte (and consequently Jane) was. This post highlights those literary references and gives a bit of context for each work that might help illuminate their use in the book. I have done my best to note all instances where Charlotte references a literary work (not including references to historical events) but I probably missed a few. If you know of any I missed and the particular quote, please let me know!

I thought it would be interesting to start this post with Charlotte’s recommendation of books to read to her friend Ellen Nussey. Charlotte was eighteen when she wrote this letter. I can’t say I was as well-read at her age!

“You ask me to recommend some books for your perusal; I will do so in as few words as I can. If you like poetry let it be first rate, Milton, Shakespeare, Thomson, Goldsmith, Pope (if you will, though I don’t admire him), Scott, Byron, Campbell, Wordsworth and Southey.” (letter dated July 4, 1834):

The Bible: I must acknowledge that there are many references to Biblical passages and characters in Jane Eyre but I have decided not to list them here, as it would be a lot of work. It’ll be something I’ll save for a future post.

Greek and Roman Mythology: Another omission are the references to mythology throughout the novel. Something else I’ll save for another time.

History of British Birds by Thomas Bewick

“Where the Northern Ocean, vast whirls, Boils round the naked, melancholy isles Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.”

A History of British Birds is a natural history book, published in two volumes. Volume 1, "Land Birds", appeared in 1797. Volume 2, "Water Birds", appeared in 1804. The quote is from the second volume.

Pamela or Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson

Referenced in the novel as being one of the stories Bessie tells young Jane. Published 1740, Pamela was is an epistolary novel and was a best-seller in it’s time. But the story about a young maidservant who endeavors to resist her employer’s advances and ends up marrying him in the end, was a controversial novel at the time.

The History of Henry Earl of Moreland by John Wesley

Also called The Fool of Quality this is another novel that Bessie (probably more appropriately) tells stories from to Jane. It follows the life of Harry Clinton and his attempts to better his lot. There are frequent intervals in which the author offers philosophical digressions and commentaries. The final two-volume set was published in 1781.

History of Rome by Oliver Goldsmith

“I had read Goldsmith’s History of Rome, and had formed my opinion of Nero, Caligula, etc.”

Originally published in 1838, this is a definitive work on the History of Rome.

Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift

”Bessie asked if I would have a book: the word book acted as a transient stimulus, and I begged her to fetch ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ from the library.”

Gulliver's Travels, or Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World. In Four Parts. By Lemuel Gulliver, First a Surgeon, and then a Captain of Several Ships is a prose satire of human nature and the ‘traveller’s tales’ literary subgenre. It was an immediate success when published in 1726.

The History of Rasselas by Samuel Johnson

“I could see the title - it was ‘Rasselas;’ a name that struck me as strange, and consequently attractive.”

The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia, originally titled The Prince of Abissinia: A Tale, though often abbreviated to Rasselas, is an apologue about happiness, published in 1759. The story is a philosophical romance with similarities in theme to Voltaire’s Candide.

The Arabian Nights

”That night, on going to bed, I forgot to prepare in imagination the Barmecide supper of hot roast potatoes, or white bread and new milk, with which I was wont to amuse my inward cravings”

The Arabian Nights is a collection of Middle Eastern folk tales and is also known as One Thousand and One Nights. The stories have been collected over many centuries but they are all framed by Scheherazade telling these stories to her husband, the King. In one story Barmecide invites a beggar to an imaginary feast. Also, Mesrour is the name of an executioner in the book.

The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan

“He may be stern; he may be exacting: he may be ambitious yet; but his is the sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of Apollyon.”

The Pilgrim's Progress from This World, to That Which Is to Come is a 1678 Christian allegory. Greatheart and Apollyon are characters in this work. It is often cited as the first novel written in English.

"La Ligue des Rats" by Jean de la Fontaine

‘Assuming an attitude, she began ‘La Ligue des Rats: fable de la Fontaine.’

This French poem was first published in 1692. Jean de la Fontaine is famous for his Fables and was one of the most widely read poets of the 17th century. Read the original tale in French here.

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

‘Yes - “after life’s fitful fever they sleep well,” ‘ I muttered.

“She stood there, by that beech-trunk—a hag like one of those who appeared to Macbeth on the heath of Forres.”

Macbeth was first performed in 1606 and dramatizes the physical and physiological effects of political ambition. The first line is a reference to Macbeth’s words concerning the dead Duncan. And the second refers to the three witches in the play.

Bluebeard by Charles Perrault

”I lingered in the long passage to which this led, separating the front and back rooms of the third story: looking, with its two rows of small black doors all shut, like a corridor in some Bluebeard’s castle.”

“Bluebeard” is a French folktale, the most famous surviving version of which was written by Charles Perrault and first published by Barbin in Paris in 1697 in Histoires ou contes du temps passé. The tale tells the story of a wealthy man in the habit of murdering his wives and the attempts of one wife to avoid the fate of her predecessors. An interesting example of foreshadowing from Charlotte. Read this fairy tale here.

Francis Bacon’s Essays

‘I see,’ he said, ‘the mountain will never be brought to Mahomet, so all you can do is to aid Mahomet to go to the mountain; I must beg of you to come here.’

This is in reference to a proverb that has been traced to Francis Bacon’s essays: “Mahomet made the people believe that he would call a hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers for the observers of his law. The people assembled: Mahomet called the hill to come to him again and again: and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abased, but said, “If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill.”

It is unclear if this is a true legend of Mohammed or an English invention. The Essays were published in 1625.

"Fallen is Thy Throne" by Thomas Moore

“Like heath that, in the wilderness, The wild wind whirls away.”

I could not find a publication date for the poem, but the poet Thomas Moore lived 1779-1852. The poem these lines are from is about the fall of Israel. Read this poem here.

Duncaid by Alexander Pope

“Yes, just as much good as it would do a man tired of sitting still in a ‘too easy chair’ to take a long walk; and just as natural was the wish to stir, under my circumstances, as it would be under his.”

The Dunciad is a landmark mock-heroic narrative poem published in three different versions at different times from 1728 to 1743. The poem celebrates a goddess Dulness and the progress of her chosen agents as they bring decay, imbecility, and tastelessness to the Kingdom of Great Britain.

Paradise Lost by John Milton

This pale crescent was ’The likeness of a Kingly Crown’; what it diademed was ‘the shape which shape had none.’

“Some natural tears she shed’ on being told this, but as I began to look very grave, she consented at last to wipe them.”

Paradise Lost is an epic poem with the first version published in 1667, and the second edition in 1674. The poem is about the biblical story of the fall of Man with the temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden. The first quote in Jane Eyre concerning Jane’s paintings is a direct echo of the description of Hell in the poem: “If shape it might be call’d that shape had none/ Distinguishable... What seem’d his head/ The likeness of a Kingly Crown had on”

The second quote describes Adele’s disappointment at not joining the party and is inspired by the line about Adam and Eve departing Eden: “Some natural tears they dropp’d”

Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

“Rise, Miss Eyre: leave me; “the play is played out.”

Twelfth Night, or What You Will is a romantic comedy, believed to have been written around 1601–1602 as a Twelfth Night’s entertainment for the close of the Christmas season. The play centers on the twins Viola and Sebastian, who are separated in a shipwreck. This is believed to be the source of the above line from Jane Eyre.

The Scornful Lady by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

“She never did so before,” at last said Bessie, turning to the Abigail.

“In the servants’ hall two coachmen and three gentlemen’s gentlemen stood or sat round the fire; the abigails, I suppose, were upstairs with their mistresses; the new servants, that had been hired from Millcote, were bustling about everywhere.”

The Scornful Lady is a Jacobean era stage play, a comedy first published in 1616, the year of the author Beaumont's death. It was one of the pair's most popular, often revived, and frequently reprinted works. The term abigails, meaning ladies’ maids, comes from a character named Abigail in The Scornful Lady.

King Lear by William Shakespeare

‘There, then - “Off, ye lendings!”

King Lear is a tragedy where King Lear decides to leave nothing to his honest, third daughter who refuses to flatter him like her two sisters have done. It a story of human suffering and kinship. The first known performance of the play was in 1606.

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare

“It’s a mere rehearsal of Much Ado About Nothing.”

Much Ado About Nothing is a comedy and thought to have been written in 1598 and 1599, as Shakespeare was approaching the middle of his career. In Shakespeare’s time the word “noting” (which sounds close to “nothing”) meant gossip and rumor which is what leads Benedick and Beatrice into falling in love, and Claudio into rejecting Hero at the marriage altar. Mr. Rochester uses that quote above to indicate to his guests that nothing is wrong.

The Turkish Lady by Thomas Campbell

”It was now the sweetest hour of the twenty-four: -- ‘Day its fervid fires had wasted,’ and the dew fell cool on panting plain and scorched summit.”

The poem’s author, Thomas Campbell, lived from 1777-1844) and the poem “The Turkish Lady” is about a captive English knight who is visited by Eastern lady who releases him from captivity and he takes her away as his bride. A fitting reference given that this quote is used in the chapter where Rochester proposes to Jane. Read this poem here.

A Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare

”Is this my pale, little elf? Is this my mustard-seed?”

A Midsummer Night's Dream is a comedy written in 1595/96. It portrays the events surrounding the marriage of Theseus, the Duke of Athens, to Hippolyta, the Queen of the Fairies. Mustardseed is one of the fairies in the play.

King John by William Shakespeare

’I might as well “gild refined gold.”

The Life and Death of King John is believed to have been written in the mid 1590s and dramatizes John, King of England, who ruled 1199-1216. The quoted phrase is but one of several examples of “wasteful and ridiculous excess” in the play.

"Bonny Wee Thing" by Robert Burns

“Yes, bonny wee thing, I’ll wear you in my bosom, lest my jewel I should tyne.”

A 1791 poem (also written “The Bonie Wee Thing”). This poem has also been set to music. Read this poem here.

Lay of the Last Minstrel by Sir Walter Scott

”Looked to river, looked to hill.”

Published in 1805, Lay of the Last Minstrel is a long narrative poem in which an aging minstrel tells of a sixteenth-century border feud between England and Scotland.

The Robbers by Fredrich Schiller

“‘Da trat hervor Einer, anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht.’ Good! good!” she exclaimed, while her dark and deep eye sparkled. “There you have a dim and mighty archangel fitly set before you! The line is worth a hundred pages of fustian. ‘Ich wäge die Gedanken in der Schale meines Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines Grimms.’

This quotes from the first drama by playwright Schiller, published in 1781. The story revolves around two aristocratic brothers, Karl and Franz. Franz is beloved by his father and Karl plots to wrest away his inheritance.

A translation of the lines:

Da trat hervor Einer, anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht. - One stepped forward to look at how the night was filled with stars.

Ich wäge die Gedanken in der Schale meines Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines Grimms. - I ventured the thoughts in the shell of my wrath and the works with the weight of my ferocity.

Lalla Rookh by Thomas Moore

To live amidst general regard, though it be but the regard of working people, is like “sitting in sunshine, calm and sweet;” serene inward feelings bud and bloom under the ray.

Lalla Rookh is an Oriental romance, published in 1817. The title is taken from the name of the heroine, the daughter of the 17th-century Mughal emperor Arangzeb. The work consists of four narrative poems with a connecting tale in prose.

Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field by Sir Walter Scott

“Day set on Norham’s castled steep, And Tweed’s fair river broad and deep, And Cheviot’s mountains lone; The massive towers, the donjon keep, In yellow lustre shone”—

Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field is a historical romance in verse of 16th-century Britain, published in 1808. It concludes with the Battle of Flodden in 1513.

"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Coleridge

The sternest-seeming stoic is human after all; and to “burst” with boldness and good-will into “the silent sea” of their souls is often to confer on them the first of obligations.

“The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written in 1797–98 and published in 1798 in the first edition of Lyrical Ballads. Read this poem here.

#Jane Eyre #Charlotte Bronte #Literary Allusions #Literary References #Literature #Books

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theuniversitychallengereview · 5 years ago

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UC 49.25 - Manchester vs Trinity, Cambridge

The fact that this blog is going to be written entirely in character as the narrator of the novel Ducks, Newburyport, the fact that you’re probably going to have to look that up if you don’t know what it is otherwise you’ll have no idea whats going on, the fact that Manchester and Trinity have seven UC titles between them, the fact that there’s no reason for me doing this other than the fact that I’m reading that book at the moment and its constantly running through my mind, the fact that here’s your first starter for ten, Starter for Ten, James McAvoy, Benedict Cumberbatch, cabbage patch, the fact that Manchester are mascotted by a bee and Trinity are mascotted by some sort of homeknitted Sooty, the fact that I’ve already said here’s your first starter for ten so I should probably start, the fact that Webber wins the first points for Trinity with ‘Capital’, following a list of clues, though I’m not sure which one he got it on, the fact that I never am when there are lists of clues for questions, but I suppose its probably often some combination that sets off a light in the contestants heads, Eureka! Topeka, Toto, lions, the fact that the first set of bonuses are on scientists, Dorothy Hodgkins, the fact that I remember hearing her name in lectures but can never remember what exactly she did, the fact that the first bonus question asked for a specific vitamin, the fact that when a question on University Challenge asks for a specific vitamin its nearly always B12, K12, the fact that no one really knows any other specific vitamin, so its pretty obvious the answers going to be B12, the fact that Rogers negs the next starter, but can’t even guess, even though he knows the answer will be a city, the fact that thats a bit mean of me to say, isn’t it, the fact that its probably really hard to think of something in that situation, the fact that Trinity can’t get it either so Manchester get a reprieve, the fact that Moscow was known as the third Rome, the fact that I’d never heard of the third Rome, let alone heard of it being Moscow, the fact that Crawford buzzes in very quickly when she hears the words ‘potato-eaters’, Vincent Van Gogh, Goch, Go, Goff, the fact that the next bonuses were on EU treaties in the week that Brexit finally happened, the fact that there’s no way they could have known this to schedule it like that, the fact that they’d have had to know ahead of time that Brexit would be postponed in March, October, December, the fact that they couldn’t have known that, the fact that it must have just been pure chance, the fact that Crawford wants Webber to guess a five letter word for a question that asks for a four letter word, the fact that he doesn’t, the fact that what if his spelling had been wrong, the fact that I am 100% sure the answer for the PIcture starter is Bavaria, but its also a guess, the fact that Webber says ‘educatory guess’ not ‘educated guess’, the fact that is that also right?, the fact that Manchester finally get a question right, the fact that they’re already 75 points behind at this point, the fact that Hughes gets the next starter to put a stop to their comeback, the fact that Hughes really does get a lot of starter questions, the fact that Trinity don’t get the author of ‘The Children’s Book’, but I know its AS Byatt, because I have a copy of it in my flat which my grandma gave me but which I’ve not read because it looks unspeakably boring, the fact that I’d probably never have heard of AS Byatt if I didn’t have the book, the fact that there’s loads of authors I’d never have heard of if I didn’t have their books, the fact that most of the time I need to have read about a book to know things about it, but I know stuff about films that I’ve never seen, apparently by osmosis, the fact that I should read more, the fact that I’m trying, but Ducks, Newburyport is just so damn big, the fact that its still really good though, the fact that I’d recommend it to anyone, the fact that this homage probably isn’t painting it in a good light, the fact that I assure you Lucy Ellmann does a better job of this than I do, the fact that Webber also gets a lot of starter questions, the fact that Trinity don’t know a lot about astronomy, astrology, solar flares, sun spots, Griffiths observatory, Palomar observatory, Jodrell Bank, the South Bank, London Bridge, Tower Bridge, the Clifton Suspension Bridge, Glenfinnan Viaduct, Hogwarts Express, the fact that the next question is about trigonometry, the fact that I’d have known that when I was studying trigonometry but its a bit of a pointless question to have here, the fact that Webber gets it anyway, the fact that they get two bonuses on the architect Owen Jones, Chavs, chavs, the fact that that stands for council housed and violent, the fact that its widely regarded that thats actually a backronym, the fact that it apparently derives from the Roman word ‘chavi’, meaning child, the fact that who was using Roman words to coin new terms in the 21st century, the fact that there are no chavs in Harry Potter, the fact that do you get wizard chavs, the fact that David Bowie is the music starter, the fact that David Bowie was probably a wizard, Ian Dury, the Blockheads, hit me with your rhythm stick, the fact that Trinity don’t recognise Joni Mitchell, the fact that Joni Mitchell is probably the best singer-songwriter ever, the fact that is it just me who thinks that, the fact that Trinity know novels from their opening passages, the fact that I used to know the start of Northern Lights, the fact that I used to know the chapter titles for that too, the Decanter of Tokay, the fact that I also used to have the opening page of Barack Obama’s autobiography memorised, the fact that it was in the bathroom for months, the fact that Paxman says ‘You are on fire tonight!’ after Trinity get the novel questions, the fact that he’s absolutely right, the fact that they are very much on fire, the fact that Manchester haven’t had a look in for ages, the fact that they have a guess on the next starter, but they’re wrong and Crawford picks it up, the fact that Paxman says ‘you can give the scientific or the common name’ for a genus of hoofed mammals, the fact that who knows the scientific name for a genus of hoofed mammals but not the common name, the fact that the answer was goat, the fact that is there anyone on earth who knows the word ‘capra’ but doesn’t know the word ‘goat’, the fact that they just put that in the question to make the show seem more intellectual don’t they, the fact that I hadn’t noticed that before, the fact that they quite often say ‘give the scientific or common name’, the fact that are Manchester ever going to get another question, the fact that the third bonus question on adaptations is ‘the Turn of the Screw’ and I swear I’d been thinking of the Turn of the Screw for the first one even though it had no link to it, the fact that thats just a total coincidence isn’t it, the fact that Manchester have finally got another one, the fact that hopefully they can get up above fifty points, the fact that anything below fifty points seems like a truly dreadful effort, but if you can get just above that it seems almost respectable, the fact that Green gets the next one too, two in a row, hattrick, connect four, the fact that they get all of the picture bonuses too, the fact that this puts them over fifty, the fact that Green gets a hattrick with an excellent early buzz of ‘aubergine’, the fact that Paxman says ‘good buzz’ and it was, the fact that where was this form earlier, the fact that if this had come in a bit earlier then they might have stood a chance, the fact that Green goes for four in a row on the next starter, but gets it wrong, the fact that Hughes gets the next one, the fact that he’d been quiet for a while but you can never count him out, the fact that Booth gets his first of the night, the fact that Manchester nearly have a hundred now, the fact that that really would have been respectable, Jurassic, Cretaceous, Mesozoic, Triassic, the fact that in Trinity’s last episode Hughes guessed Palmerston for a Prime Minister question and if he’d guessed that again they’d have been right again, the fact that Trinity are running away with it again, the fact that they have already got the highest score of the series so far, the fact that will they hit three hundred, the fact that they only need ten more points, the fact that Hughes buzzes in with ‘martlet’ and they’ve got it, the fact that it was his seventh starter of the match, the fact that Trinity scored three hundred, the fact that Manchester scored ninety five, the fact that its the highest combined score we’ve had in two years, the fact that Trinity still have to win another match to reach the semi finals, the fact that Manchester aren’t kncked out yet either, the fact that I don’t know who’s playing next week, the fact that every time I pick up Ducks, Newburyport I think ‘how did she write this’ and having done this now I am even more amazed, the fact that this goes into nowhere near the amount of detail she goes into, but I have no clue how she manages it, the fact that it must have been a pain to edit, the fact that if I really wanted to copy the style I’d have had to put a huge list in at some point, but that might have been too annoying for this blog, the fact that I might go back and add a list anyway, the fact that I don’t know how she ends the book so I might just have to end it here because I don’t know how I’ll get out otherwise

#university challenge #bbc2 #trinity #cambridge #manchester #jeremy paxman #ducks #newburyport #ducks newburyport #lucy ellmann

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bedlamgames · 5 years ago

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Q&A #103

Today we have the Twine conversion, lesbian training mantras, social lube, a bunch of random stuff from the discord, and a whole lot more.

[Anonymous said]: I'm really curious what the tally means for your twine conversion posts. Can't seem to figure out what its suppose to represent progress wise...

- Answered this last Q&A. Because of you asking I’ve now also added the explanation to what it’s about to every stream post so I hope that helped with understanding what’s going on with that.

[Anonymous said]: Suggestion: For races that start with a random corruption (ie: Succubi), have an option in full custom to spend points to either narrow what that corruption is (to be one of the four types, for example) or to outright pick one (for a much higher cost).

- That’s a good idea. Being able to pick specifically I think would be too much. There are ALOT of corruptions so that would mean many many menus to be able to select everything. Being able to pick one of the four types seems fair to me as something to spend points on in Full Custom. Added it to my notes.

[Anonymous said]: Have a succubus slaver who used to be a lamia. On level up, she had the option to get the Fleet trait, which I thought was off-limits for Lamia due to their body shape. I think it's a bug?

- Good spot and should be fixed as of the last update.

[Anonymous said]: Noticed a bug with No Haven 0.903: If you select a human (or once-human) for your character, and then quick restart, your next character will keep the human's Racial aspect Social Lube. On the topic of that Racial, it says " includes one human, and three other different races/subtypes gain an additional Success" Does that mean one human and three non-humans, or one human and three slavers each of a different race from each other?

-Took me awhile to work this out as going from human to human seemed fine. However you’re right that those with a heritage like demi-angels or succubi will incorrectly keep the previous racial.

The second so as long as you have at least one human you can get the buff by say having a northerner, noble, wastelander, and convent.

[Anonymous said]: hi bud, xfto/x421 here, its been a long time i guess. wanted to ask about the status of the no haven/twine conversation. i joined your picardo lately but couldnt post some reports since you dont allow guest-posts. well anyway, the report is about something ridiculous i have found after some restarts, the chosen main charakter (lamia) starts as male with the hard carry aspect(immense shaft) and different description than the ones the perks would give. 1/2

another question, feels like i asked something similiar in the past, how about the integration of different artpacks/access to older pics, or deletion of those that never get used? i guess that would requiere some more access to the game than you allow atm. maybe with twine? do you have a roadmap on tfgames or somewhere for the future of no haven? i know there are some more races you want to implement and improve some systems, but thats it, hope you are doing well in these times. 2/2

I do an update on the patreon every two weeks which is linked on the twitter. You do not need to be a patron to read these and is the best way to stay informed about what I’ve been up to. That includes the status of the conversion. To quickly sum it up;

It's at a stage where all the RAGS to Twine code conversion is basically done. What I need to do now is translate all that work into something playable and there's currently big logic issues with a bunch of the conditions and passages. So what I'm currently doing is trying to tidy up the visual look of the code with a bunch of idents with the theory that will make finding the errors easier.

Alas it’s not me disallowing guest posts... Picarto had some massive stonking issues and so they locked things down hard due to that preventing guests from chatting. I suggest a throwaway email site to get around that.

I don’t think there’s any art in the game file that’s not used as I try to keep on top of deleting the old ones. Not really down for doing art packs of the old ones as due to that not being my art so I see them as placeholder only until they can be replaced by commissions.

I probably do need to do some kind of roadmap sometime. I’m less keen as it’s kind of a dirty word these days as due to the miss-use of them by others it’s got some bad connontations, but I’m also aware the alternative which is me randomly mentioning stuff on discord/picarto streams leaves the vast majority of my audience in the dark which is also really not ideal.

[Anonymous said]: [no haven 0.903] [Crit no longer grants Bimboborn] okay, but how do I get bimboborn now?

- It’s a corruption. Specifically Blessings of Perversion.

[Anonymous said]: With the change to training where hypnotic slavers can fully embed the relevant mantras for blowjob, bimbo, and sissy training, could we also get that for lesbian training?

- Yes that’s the plan when I do the third part of lesbian training. Got a set of commissions planned just got to sort the funding and work out who I’m getting to do it.

[Anonymous said]: hey bud, x421 here, again, might be already fixed because thats from no haven .903, but i recently had the witch queen super rare quest, you might want to proof read the quest and results, there are a few typos. i really did enjoy the writing nonetheless, just a quick question about that quest, as far as i understood this one, you only change your odds of the final result depending on how good you do on your way to the final, but the reward in the end only depends on the final result? 1/2

2/2 it just dawned on me that its been a while since you made an Q&A post so i guess i ll go and lurk on the tfgames forum in the next days, just one last question: i asked early in development about camp upgrades and you were not that convinced about that stuff, i understand you want the slaver camp as some bandit camp and not some castle/bastion or whatever, but since you added camp upgrades, maybe add proximity to a certain region? or something to spend supplies and gold in a 13month+ run?

- Hah! Okay will give it another read through.That’s correct yes. There’s also rewards on the way if you Critical those parts.

There is a new gold sink coming soon in an upcoming update. I’ve also got plans for more camp upgrades coming later.

[From the Patreon]: I'm that guy you replied to about the patch notes in Q&A 101. Solid updates. Bugs in the outfit system has driven me nuts since like, 2015, has it been that long already? I think it has. I like collecting them and something always blows up. This time, I ended up with a slaver wearing both the ooze outfit and ponygirl outfit. So there's that. Also I was disappointed the new Quicker then You'd Like wasn't interactive. Solid in any case though, thanks!

- I'll get them all one day I swear! Don't suppose you remember the chain of events that led to that? New QAYL was a patron requested one with the idea of having a big pay off for playing submissive which often involves playing sub-optimally.

[From the Patreon]: 1-ive been noticing when you choose to repick choices for an slave training assignment the slave gets added to the list of choices 2-also just how rare is the post-slave princess city assignment, cause i can never seem to get it even after selling multiple slave princesses 3-another thing is that the nightly puppet-leader stat is almost impossible to get again(either that or i have bedwarmers incapable of usurping me even thought i my current stats mean i couldnt win against even the subbiest slave)

- Will check 3 as you've not been the only person to mention that. 2 I know exists for sure as other people have definitely got it. Should be no rarer than any other rare City assignment, and thanks for the spot on 1.

[From the Discord]: Top 3 Animes of the 2010 to 2020

Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica the series was staggeringly good. Just redefined what anime could be to me. Film is a... well it was a thing. A beautiful thing with an ending which I still quite know how to feel about.

Shirobako. It’s about creativity, craft, and about how people can come together to make something. It might not be something good, but dangit it’s been made and that’s worthwhile. It’s also from personal experience by miles the most accurate depiction of working in an office I’ve ever seen.

Oh man this is very very hard deciding on the third so pick one of the following and I could probably make a strong case for it.

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon, Darling in the FranXX (yes really, yes even the ending), Lupin III: Part 5, Kill la Kill, Monster Musume, Flip Flappers, Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Zombieland Saga, or Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai.

Also while I was taking the question to mean series both Your Name and Promare are absolutely phenonemal films.

[From the Discord]: Best recent Eurovision Act

Lena. Always Lena.

[From the Discord]: What's the agricultural technological level of No Haven like

It’s not hit industrialization yet. What makes the difference is and allows cities like Aversol and even bigger to exist is that the organization of the human empire is far better than it has any right to be for the other levels of development being able to keep an incredibly complex supply chain constantly flowing even if on the ground level it barely seems to be moving at all. There are also some much, much larger farms both on the Great Plains and further to the north compared to the much more isolated single/couple of households ones that your slavers raid.

[From the Discord]: What have been some of your all-time favourite assignments, both in terms of working on them and how they turned out?

Love When Week’s End Comes for a recent one. Writing all the results in colour commentary (and all the variations for weather, events and outcomes) was a real challenge and I do like how it came out.

Witch-Queen and Arisin’ for being the first times I tried to go for a different, more potentially disturbing/freaky mood, and I’m pleased with the results.

Sable Masquerade as I really like the ‘bad end’ I came up with. Actually I like the whole thing as while the pitch from the patron obviously helped, a lot of it was inspired by a random superhero bondage party picture I saw on HF, which I decided to run with, and had a bunch of fun exploring.

[From the Discord]: Weirdest bug and most difficult bug

The one that resulted in a male wisp riding a griffon was a fun one.

Most difficult has to be the clothing management which as a previous question suggests I’ve still not entirely solved.

[From the Discord]: If No Haven was an MMO, what race/class would you play?

Kreen rogue mainly as I really like the edit I did for the portrait which MidnightonMars later translated into a commission.

If not definitely a lamia.

[From the Discord]: Knowing what you do now about the design of the game, are there any game mechanics you wish you'd have implemented differently?

Clothing management. So very much clothing management. I’ve redone it entirely twice now, and it’s still not where I want it to be.

[From the Discord]: What was your inspiration for creating the setting of No Haven? Has the direction the game has gone varied from your initial idea? If so what has been the biggest change?

- It started off with adapting the chan game Deeper Dungeons which was basically a certain popular mmo with nothing different about it outside of it being porn along with some possibly unwise options of personal abuse. I first changed it by ditching gnomes for neko which to my mind was a clear upgrade. There even used to be an examine refference in the RAGS version to suggest they’d been in the region of the dungeons before being driven out.

Then it was a gradual process of adding with the occasional subtractions to get it closer to a more Warhammer feeling setting which has always been a major love of mine when I was still doing Whorelock’s in RAGS.

With No Haven it was a case of building on what I’ve done there and expanding upon that with the race lore and assignment descriptions. Biggest was probably when I did the favoured/unfavoured stuff and added a ton of extra backstory to various races to justify the choices made there.

#Q&A

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amoralto · 6 years ago

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MOJO: Paul McCartney – the MOJO interview. (May, 2003)

(Note: Finally, finally finished typing this up after @sweating-cobwebs requested the full interview what seems like ages ago. Quotes from this and the Yoko interview from the same issue - which I’ll probably type up in full later as well - can be found under the #2003 tag.)

In troubled times, Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono remained undaunted and have found peace – with themselves and each other. Johnny Black met Macca in London.

by Johnny Black

When Sir Paul McCartney’s dark blue Mercedes drives into Docklands Arena and pulls up at the side of the stage, the 60-year-old man who climbs out looks sprightly, even jaunty. He throws his elegant grey jacket over one shoulder, as he proffers a broad smile to everyone he greets. There’s a ripple effect as he moves away from the vehicle, a small knot of his employees drifting along with him. Press officer, catering manager, sound man, security personnel… and they each have a little something they need him to do if and when he has a moment.

He appears to be taking it all on board, seems to placate them all, and by the time he pauses about 30 feet in front of the stage, the knot has dissolved and they’re all heading back to their appointed posts.

The figure briefly watches his mainly American band as they jam cheerfully around the distinctive chord progression of Walk Don’t Run by The Ventures, then joins them on the stage, immediately changing the mood as he leads them into Shakin’ All Over, the first truly great pre-Beatles British rock track. Given how much we seem to love speculating about McCartney’s motives, it would be easy to interpret this as a statement of intent – the British boss asserting his personality over his yankee staff – but it’s also undeniably a great track to warm-up on, and he seems to relish playing it. Up there on that stage, bashing away in front of an audience of less than 20 onlookers, he seems just as happy as he would be if he were basking in the approval of 20,000.

It’s March 14, 2003, and for the next few days the 12,000-capacity Arena – a far cry from the Liverpudlian sitting rooms where The Beatles first knocked their live sets together – is serving as McCartney’s rehearsal hall in the run up to a major European tour.

McCartney’s personal fortune was recently estimated at £620 million by People magazine. In the last year alone, he raked in £120m, of which £65m came from US tour receipts and album sales. But money, as he once famously pointed out, can’t buy love. And love, in the words of another Beatles’ classic, is all you need. In the enduringly poignant country music standard A Satisfied Mind, written in 1955 by Red Hayes and Jack Rhodes, such sentiments are explored more fully in the lines, “Money can’t buy back your youth when you’re old, or a friend when you’re lonely, or a heart that’s grown cold.”

Looked at in that light, just how wealthy is Paul McCartney? Here’s a man, adored by millions, disliked by millions, whose young life was shattered on October 31, 1956 when his mother, Mary, died of cancer in the Northern Hospital, Liverpool. The following year, he befriended John Lennon, only to re-live his own grief over again when Lennon’s mother, Julia, died in 1958.

With George Harrison and Ringo Starr, he and Lennon formed the most successful band the world has ever seen, then watched helplessly as it was destroyed by drugs and greed, turning their friendship to dust along the way. After years of acrimony, he and Lennon had just begun healing their wounds and rebuilding their friendship when Lennon was stolen away from him again by the bullets from Mark Chapman’s gun.

The other major relationship that had brought stability into McCartney’s life was his lasting marriage to Linda Eastman, but that was also taken from him too soon when she died from cancer in April 1998, aged just 56. And it was cancer again that claimed the life of George Harrison on November 29, 2001.

To what extent can £620m heal the scars left by those assaults on McCartney’s famously cheery – and oft derided – bonhomie? The answer, as any fule kno, is that it can’t. So what is it that keeps those legendary thumbs aloft? It has to be more than just the buzz of playing Shakin’ All Over with a band half your age.

When, after an hour and a half, the first rehearsal is over, MOJO is pulled into Macca’s wake by press officer Geoff Baker. At the end of a walk through bare and stark backstage corridors, we arrive at the inner sanctum, a dressing room converted into something not unlike a Persian boudoir, complete with velvet cushions, exotic drapes, dishes groaning with fresh fruit and the smell of incense perfuming the air.

Sitting opposite him across a low table, there’s very little feeling of being in the presence of greatness. He wears his celebrity comfortably – like a favourite old shirt. He is perfectly polite, knows how to put a stranger at ease with an amusing aside but, above all, the passage of the years has made him even more gentlemanly. In the flesh, his boyish demeanour compensates for the lines and wrinkles that have come with age. Look into his face at close quarters and what you see are his eyes, still twinkling. Somewhere behind that twinkle, however, there’s a mind like a steel trap. You don’t get to where McCartney has got without one.

What would be a typical day in your life, like when you’re not working?

I tend to be the one who gets up to make breakfast. You’d die for my breakfast. It’s my Zen thing. I cut up all these lovely exotic things, normally in this order: I cut up a melon, a papaya, some kiwis, bananas, peach, and I make a fruit plate and it looks a bit like a mandala when I’ve done it – there’s all sorts of reasons why but it just have developed into this. We’ll also have tea, bagels, humous – quite a big, fancy breakfast. Then it’s a walk in the park with the dog, or if I’m in the country it might be a horse ride.

Later in the day, I like going to the pictures. We’ve got a great local cinema… Normally I’ll go with Heather, but I went to see Lord Of The Rings on my own. Loved it, whacking great film.

You can go to the cinema without being hassled?

Yeah. I do everything without being hassled. It’s actually been one of my pleasures. I actually like getting on the Tube, getting on the bus. I’ll do it if I’m walking and I see a bus going my way, I’ll just jump on. I did it in the 60s. George’s dad was a bus driver and he could never believe I’d do that. People can’t believe it. I had a guy in the street the other day, he was really worried that I was out on my own with no security. I said, “Gerraway.” I’ve always done that. I used to sometimes walk to Beatles concerts, and you’d get a screaming mass of girls and I’d say, “Come on, girls, calm down.” I’d do the big brother thing. I’m very comfortable with that. If not a movie, we’ll watch TV or a DVD in the evening – I usually try to see Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and Blind Date.

Most of us watch Millionaire because we’d like to be one, but that can’t be the appeal for you…

I want them to be millionaires. Actually Heather wants us to go on as a couple. It was funny because we met Chris Tarrant (the show’s presenter) the other night and Heather, in her keenness, said, “We should come on the Celebrity Millionaire show,” … which is for charity, so it’s a good thing… she said, “I know all the answers Paul doesn’t know and he knows all the ones I don’t know.” Chris said, “No, you shouldn’t come on. You’d be terrible.” He just completely took the piss, which was hilarious, because you’d expect him to be really keen.

Somewhere in the evening I’ll have a drink, and get to bed maybe about 11. Is that early? And then I’ll go to sleep and snore. Apparently I snore, but not a lot.

A brace of young women arrive bearing a tray laden with Paul’s lunch – chunky raisin scones, toast and a major pot of tea. Immediately he’s on his feet, exchanging pecks on the cheek, addressing them both by name, inquiring after their well-being. He points at the various delights on the tray to indicate that MOJO is welcome to partake.

Your band on this tour is noticeably young and energetic. How did you find them?

My keyboard player Wix has been with me for years, but I was going to make a record (Driving Rain) in America with David Kahne. He rang me about 10 days before the first session and said, “Do you think you might want to play live in the studio?” So I said, “Yeah, maybe.” So he said, “Should I get a couple of musicians in case you do?” I said, “OK, if you like.” I just left it very sort of casual.

So he thought about some people he admired. He’d never worked with Abe (Laboriel Jr, drummer) but he admired his work. He’d worked with Rusty (Anderson, guitarist). So he told me he’d got these people with great attitudes and who were great players and who could sing.

So I came in on the Monday morning, met the guys, and immediately started making the album, basically live. And that was it. Then, when we did the Superbowl, we needed one more guitarist for that so I asked David, “Do you know anybody?” And he said, “Yeah, this guy Brian Ray.” And he seemed to fit in great.

What do you think people expect from you when they come to a show?

I’m trying to keep a balance, proportionate, between Beatles stuff, Wings stuff and solo stuff. I don’t want it to just be a Beatles show, but I don’t mind giving an audience my most popular stuff. If I go to see David Gray, I’d like to hear him do Babylon because I like that song. And I’d be pretty disappointed if Coldplay didn’t do Yellow, you know?

We still have to rehearse to stay fresh, we’re making some changes to the screens and the lights (at these rehearsals), and I am adding a couple of songs to the set, so it’ll be a slightly longer show.

You were always the one in The Beatles who would turn up at a pub and sing songs. You did it during Magical Mystery Tour and you did it in 1968 on the way back from recording Thingumybob with the Black Dyke Mills Band.

I’d been up in Bradford with (Apple press officer) Derek Taylor, and we were just driving back to London, and we all got bored, someone wanted a pee, so we stopped in a little town called Harrold. And I think when we got to the pub it was shut but we got it to open up and we had a drink and there was a piano there so I sat down and played Let It Be.

Is that as much fun for you as playing in Earl’s Court or wherever?

Yeah. It is. It’s just a different kind of fun. I really do like it. If there’s a piano around it would be very difficult for me to just sit and watch it. It seems to me, in my naivety, that it’s something you approach and tinkle, to see if it’s in tune. It’s not a great desire to perform, I don’t think. I think it’s more that I like music, I like piano… but guitar is best.

Your first instrument was a trumpet. Was that something you wanted, or was it foisted on you by a well-meaning parent?

At the time, I think I must have sort of coveted a trumpet. My dad was a trumpet player and I did like it but when I realised I couldn’t sing and play the trumpet at the same time, I asked him and he said he didn’t mind me trading it in for a guitar. I thought he might be a bit insulted, but he didn’t mind.

The head of another aide pops round the door. It seems the BBC has arrived to show Paul a DVD of a commercial he’s done for the Corporation. Then there’s more rehearsal to be done but maybe we can reconvene later. Not for the first time, McCartney is ushered politely out of reach.

Docklands Arena, soon to be ripped down and replaced with more commercially viable properties, is virtually devoid of character. Fortunately, the stage show devised for this tour offers no end of distraction for the senses. As well as serried ranks of lights of very sort known to man, and some ear-splitting pyrotechnics in Live And Let Die, there are over 30 giant video screens forming a semi-circle around one humongous mother-screen which can be raised up and down as required on worryingly noisy pulleys.

“All our fuckin’ technology and it sounds like a building site,” wails the sound man. He’s consoled by a crew member who’s seen it all before – Gerry Stickells, the legendary Hendrix roadie tempted out of retirement for this tour at McCartney’s personal request.

When he returns to the Arena floor after watching the BBC DVD, he notices that the text on the mother-screen – via which audience members can text each other from their mobiles – is smaller than it used to be. He calls over the lighting director and suggest that “maybe… it might be better if… don’t you think?” Moments later, with the text size already increased, Macca is onstage running the band through the entire show – not that they seem to need it. The set runs almost faultlessly, synchronised with the lights and screens to such an extent that even the ‘Na Na Na’ audience participation section of Hey Jude is rehearsed in real time, with Paul exhorting the imaginary throng – “OK, just the ladies now… fantastic… now just the guys…”

He’s on-stage, performing with more energy than at any time since the heyday of The Beatles, for almost three hours in all, but he comes off at the end barely out breath, and we repair once more to the inner sanctum.

It’s interesting that you use the on-stage screens during Lady Madonna as a gallery of feminist icons…

They actually had Madonna among the visuals, but I thought that was too obvious. So they asked what I’d like to replace Madonna with and I said, “The Queen Mother.” This was two weeks before she died, so when we started touring ti looked like we’d put her in as a tribute.

I didn’t notice Yoko Ono either. Are you two still feuding?

I know that’s the public perception of it, but I do not have a bad relationship with her. We’re not enemies, me and Yoko. We send each other Christmas cards and everything. She’s more like a distant relative.

But you are tussling over the credits to the Lennon-McCartney songs…

There’s no tussle at all, but if, on my songs, like Hey Jude or Yesterday, which John openly acknowledged, particularly in the Playboy interview, that he had nothing whatsoever to do with… John actually made a list for the Playboy thing showing which songs were his and which were mine. I would be quite happy if, on one of the songs, it would be allowed, for my name to just come first. But I’m really not fussed. It’s not anywhere near as big an issue as it looks. It gets played up in the press. It’s a hot little story. And it makes me look stupid. “Why the fuck does he want that?” It’s actually just a very little request.

More importantly for me, it’s Trades Descriptions. It’s so complex and I hate to go on about it but, for example, I was reading a book, an anthology of poetry, and one of the poems in it was Blackbird, which is my lyric. And it said by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Now John had nothing to do with those words, especially once they’ve been extracted from the music and put into a poetry book. I think it’s fair enough to put Blackbird in a poetry book by Paul McCartney. Give Peace A Chance… take my name off it. It was a great, great anthem of John’s.

It’s sort of a mild request I made to Yoko and it’s sort of been turned down. If she’d have said yeah, the publishing company could probably have sorted it out.

Do you think it matters more to other people than it does to you?

I don’t think anyone gives a shit.

But Alistair Taylor, who worked for you at NEMS and Apple for many years, told me he was very upset that you would want to change the credits. He says it was agreed at an early meeting that it should be Lennon-McCartney, and you agreed to that…

Well, number one, Alistair was not in the meeting where I agreed it. It’s all very nice these guys having these opinions, but here’s what I say and this is the truth. There was a meeting with me, John and Brian, in Hilly House, above a carpet shop in Albemarle Street. We went in and they said, “We’re going to call it Lennon-McCartney.” I said, “Well, OK, fair enough, but it would be good to have it occasionally McCartney-Lennon, wouldn’t it, just for fairness for me?”

And they said, swear to God, hand on heart, but there was nobody else in the room and they’re both dead, so there’s no way of me proving this, except I believe it, I was there, and nobody else who talks about it was there, and they said, “We can change it as we go along. And we can change it any time we want out of fairness.”

This was why, many years later, when the Anthology came about, I and Linda, who had just been diagnosed with cancer, rang Yoko, and said, “Could we just, on Yesterday, could we just switch that one track?” That was the original request. It was just for that one song. And Linda, God bless her, spent quite a bit of time ringing Yoko and that was the start of it all.

And now, I must just be resigned, because it doesn’t really matter, except from the point of view of this Blackbird credit. There is an unfairness there, I think. But it’s an unfairness I’m willing to live with. I don’t mind, and I do think it has rebounded on me a bit because people want to know, “What the fuck does he think he’s doing?” I’ve had letters from people saying, “Paul, you’re doing yourself no favours. I was a big fan of yours but this terrible thing of trying to ruin John’s reputation…” I’m not trying to ruin John’s reputation.

When Yoko was interviewed by MOJO, she said it wasn’t all black during the making of the White Album. There was some lighter moments. Is that how you recall it?

That’s absolutely true, yeah. We’d never have got an album made if it was as black as it was painted. It’s a good album. I remember we presented John and Yoko with an inscribed teapot, and that was a fun time. Unfortunately, because The Beatles were splitting up, the only thing anybody wanted to know about was the split.

It wasn’t all black, even then. We were all pretty friendly, and the times when we weren’t friendly was quite a small proportion of the overall thing. Unfortunately, that’s what gets remembered because it was the most significant proportion because it ended up in a divorce, as it were. In a divorce court, you don’t say, “Oh, she was really great. She’s actually fabulous, and I’m sorry we’re getting a divorce.” That’s what happened to us. Because of the circumstances we had to talk about all the shit.

I think because the Beatles had been by and large a happy, successful thing… four lads getting out of Liverpool, getting out of the working class money trap and doing well… that had all been an up vibe and then with drugs and stuff towards the end of the ’60s it was all taking a bit of a dip. The drugs weren’t working, nobody was giggling anyore, and the word ‘heavy’ came into the vocabulary.

Because all of that was going on it did get nasty. The thing with me having to sue the other guys. I wanted to sue Allen Klein but I couldn’t, so the only way to get out of everything for me and them was for me to sue them, and that was unconscionable, that was something I would never have thought of doing.

It was unfortunate because, in suing the other guys, not only did I get their backs up for a number of years, but the public perception was of me being the guy who sued The Beatles. I held off doing it for months, but it was pointed out to me that the only other option was to go with Klein. So I did it but, luckily, all things must pass, and it did pass. In the end, the others were glad I’d done it. There wouldn’t be Apple now. But it was a very ugly period, and ugly things I had to do to make it work.

You still seem very interested in politics, supporting the campaign to get ride of landmines. But the Wings single, Give Ireland Back To The Irish, was a very direct political statement.

See, I thought we were Irish. So it was a home problem for me… McCartney… Liverpool being the capital of Ireland… it was like a very personal take on it. What if there were Irish soldiers on the streets of Hendon or Speke? Would you like it? That was my take on it.

As evening falls over Docklands, McCartney is whisked off home to dinner with Heather, leaving a promise that if MOJO returns on Monday, a little more interview time will somehow be squeezed into a hectic day. Over the intervening weekend, his Radio 2 commercial, a radically reworked version of Band On The Run, begins airing, along with a short TV film about its making.

When we reconvene at the Arena on Monday morning, the ambience has changed. A troupe of dancers – including a young woman bent on squeezing herself into a tiny Perspex box – is rehearsing backstage; two insurance brokers have arrived to check out the pyrotechnics; the MOJO photography crew, rpomised first access to Macca, is anxious; and there’s an entirely new set to be rehearsed.

As before, Macca opts to take to the stage first. A guitar tech hands him a jumbo acoustic and they lanunch into For No One, followed by Things We Said Today, C-Moon, Honey Don’t… this is the Coliseum set. The band is still unfamiliar with several of the tracks so Macca strums through I’ve Just Seen A Face yelling out the chords as he proceeds. As Geoff Baker strolls past, MOJO inquires whether McCartney will perform Mull of Kintyre when the tour hits Glasgow. “Absoutely not,” says Baker. “We’re frantically seaching for a pipe band at this very moment for an entirely different reason.”

Up on the stage, McCartney says, “OK lads, let’s try Cor Blimey Luv!” and they thunder into Can’t Buy Me Love. Come lunchtime, he is unexpectedly taken off for a meeting in central London, but promises MOJO a swift return.

Two hours later, precisely as predicted, McCartney reappears.

A couple of the post-Beatles songs like Coming Up and Let Me Roll It seems to me to be much more powerful than the originals. Is this how you really intended them to be in the first place?

No. It’s an evolution caused by playing with this band. The parts are already there. What I like about this band is that I don’t really have to tell them. What I’ve done on this whole tour, this band, this new thing, is I’ve let everyone be, let them do their thing, and then if I don’t like it, I’ve reined it in a bit.

Rather than me dictating how to play it, I figure my dictatorial moments have happened – I wrote those songs and I did the original records, so now I don’t feel the band has to stick note-for-note to the original arrangements. It’s also a bit of a louder band than I’ve had before, a bigger sound, so that adds to it.

I know that Rusty is working on his own CD at the moment, but there’s presumably no chance in this band of the other members being allowed to contribute their own songs on the set?

I’ve had to take on the role of boss ever since Wings. It wasn’t like The Beatles any more. Denny Laine, for example, had the reputation of having done Go Now, so you might want to do that, but really the promoters and the audience tended to want to hear my stuff.

At your level of success, you’re effectively the head of a small company. How do you know whether the people are saying that what you do is great because it is great, or just because you’re the boss?

It’s almost impossible, but I think I’ve been at it long enough now to suss… I actually see people telling me, “That’s a great idea!” but I prefer people to speak their minds. So in this kind of team, they’re not just sycophants. They’re more likely to be people who’ll say, “Yeah, that’s a good idea but what if we did this?” And I’ll go, “Wow! Shit! That’s a great idea.”

Do you take to the role of boss easily?

I used to be frightened of it when I was younger because I thought, “We all hate bosses, don’t we?” But I had to get over it because with Apple, we suddenly had this company losing a lot of money we’d earned so I then had to actually tell people what to do – I’m talking about secretaries and staff, The Beatles was still a democratic thing, but we all became bosses then.

That was a strange moment for you, when you had to take over the business side as well as the creative…

We all had to do it, and that had all its famous problems associated with it. After that I had to decide how I would do it in my solo career, which is when I put MPL together. Very small beginnings, one little room in some film production offices, and at that point I really did become the boss. I had a secretary and everything, and then that thing grew, so yeah, I’ve got more and more comfortable with it. I don’t think I’m a very hard boss, but I kick ass when things go wrong.

Do you think your continued success over 40 years – which seems to include a fair number of younger fans – is a bit odd? It’s as if, in the ’60s, Al Jolson or Rudy Vallée had still been pulling in huge crowds.

I think our thing was stuff that goes for all generations. I’m singing things now that I wrote years ago and thinking, “Shit, that’s still appropriate.” Doing Calico Skies, for example, talking about “crazy soldiers, weapons of war”… and look at what’s going on around us right now.

I certainly don’t think it’s any reflection of the state of contemporary music. I think music right now is really great. I’m not an expert, because I’m not a kid buying it, but I always check out people who are said to be good. I’ll see somebody getting a Grammy and I don’t know them, so I’ll check that out.

For instance, I’d heard Eminem on the radio and I thought, “Clever. Good lyrics, good ideas.” So I just went to see 8 Mile and it’s a great little rock ’n’ roll film, like an Elvis film. I enjoyed it and I came out like when I was a kid, that feelgood thing coming out of a movie like you’re walking a bit taller.

What are the eternal verities of a great song?

It’s an indefinable magic chemistry which can come many, many ways. Starting at the top… it’s often a great title. It’s often great words, or great melodies, or great chords or a great sound… but the best ones have got them all.

And there’s always a magic moment. Send In The Clowns, for example, has that line about, “Isn’t it queer… oh, they’re here.” Or in The Drugs Don’t Work. I remember hearing that record, the acoustic coming on, but when he hits that line, it’s like, “Fucking hell, that has to be said.” It hadn’t been said before.

If I had to plump for one single element, it would be melody, because not all songs have got words. I can be moved by a great melody on its own.

Many artists adopt personas. Is that what happened with The Beatles?

We didn’t think that was what we were about. We felt more like a little group of students. It was more an art thing we thought we were doing. We were just (adopts exaggerated Liverpool accent) John, Paul, George and Ringo, you know? I think one of the great things about The Beatles, apart from the fact that we were damn good, was that we were very honest – that could be one of the things that has lasted. Also, we were artists. Our artistic development found a home in people’s hearts and they were able to follow it. Yellow Submarine is a kid’s thing; A Day In The Life is more grown up, so it was an interesting body of work.

It’s also a body of work that has haunted him ever since. Despite multi-platinum hits and a wealth of superlative tracks in his post-Beatles output, Lennon-McCartney remains the standard by which all contemporary songwriters, including him, are judged. John’s untimely death put him on a pedestal, moving him effectively beyond criticism, while McCartney got on with the job of living in the shadow of their unwieldy legacy. It must have been galling, for example, to release his acclaimed solo album Flaming Pie in 1997, while knowing full well that it would never match the sales of, or reap the critical plaudits heaped on The Beatles’ Anthology, a compilation of outtakes, backing tracks and rarities, which had been released two years earlier.

Nor did his renaissance man dabblings in classical composition, poetry and painting do much to revive public interest. But then, on June 11, 2002, Sir Paul McCartney married his ex-model girlfriend Heather Mills, in St Salvator’s Church, Castle Leslie, Glaslough, Ireland. Since then, although things haven’t gone exactly smoothly, it seems as if his life is more firmly back on track.

This is a man who obviously likes to be married, enjoys stability and finds pleasure in domesticity’s little routines, presumably to balance the whirlwind of activity that follows every move he makes outside of his front door. Watching him deliever the line, “Oh that magic feeling, nowhere to go” on the stage at Docklands, it suddenly seemed to rank among his most heartfelt.

Following the muted response from critics and public alike to his Driving Rain album of 2001, he makes no attempt to hide the fact that he’s revelling in the acclaim for and success of this tour in America, which has outstripped all expectations. For this 60-year-old knight of the realm to be the biggest-grossing US live act of 2002 – seeing off not just arch-rivals The Rolling Stones but also the young bucks – is clearly a source of immense personal satisfaction.

But who is he really? Bastion of the establishment? Rock idol? Contented hubby? Multi-talented renaissance man? Avant-garde pop genius? All of the aforementioned and more? Or just an old dopehead with a good head for a nice tune?

Over the years, you’ve been busted for marijuana in Scotland, England, Barbados, Japan, Scandinavia… you could probably get in the Guinness Book Of Records for being busted in most countries. Did anybody mention this in the process of making you a Sir?

No, nobody comes and says anything like that. You can be a terrible person and still be a Sir. It must be that way, because they gave it to me. The worst thing about being busted is that you go on computer records. So every time I go to America, they see my name on the database and they know I’ve been busted a lot, but I think they’ve sort of forgiven me. It’s like, “That was his wild youth but he’s all right now.” So they always let me through, but the drug busts, I have had to go and sit with the aliens in Customs, once or twice. It’s a bit embarrasing. That stuff never comes off your records.

What’s the most useful thing about being a Sir?

I can’t think of many useful things about it. George Martin says it gets you a good table in a restaurant, but I get a good table anyway. I ring up and ask for a table for 8.30 and if they say, “Sorry, there’s no tables left,” I will say, “This is Paul McCartney here.” Then you hear a bit of scuffling and suddenly a table becomes free. I don’t actually like doing that, but I will if I’m desperate. But I never say, “This is Sir Paul McCartney.” I never call myself that. I see it as being like a school prize. You don’t really go for it, but get it because of what you are. Like the art prize or the maths prize. It’s nice to get it because it’s an honour, a recognition of what you’ve done, but it doesn’t do you much good. For me, the best thing about getting it was that it was popular. A lot of people said, “Oh yes, he deserved that.” That was important to me.

How about Sir Mick Jagger?

Who cares? I think it’s cool. I don’t think it makes you anything. I think you are ‘it’ already and it’s a prize for being that thing. And Mick is Mick so that’s fine. I can think of people who should get them… like Eric Clapton. He’s a prime candidate. Sir Eric Clapton has a ring to it.

At your level of success, you’re effectively a company. How many people do you employ all told?

Normally, we carry about 140. When you’re in school or college, you’re a scruffy little bastard writing essays all the time, hoping one day that you’ll be a lawyer, a judge, a journalist, rocker, head of a company, your dreams are all there and I’ve actually got my visualisation. I feel very lucjy. I’m really aware that it’s not just me… I’ve had a phenomenal amount of luck.

Heather said, a few months back, that marrying you had brought her a lot of unhappiness. How do you, as a couple, cope with that?

I’d like to help her with it, and I hate to say this, but it’s more how does she deal with it, you know? I think the shock for Heather was that she’d been “Great model who overcomes accident and now she does a lot of work for charity and disabled people.” The minute she married me, it was, “Who does she think she is?” It’s really quite unfair, but she’s a sitting target. I think it did give her a lot of grief. The most grief, the worst thing about it, was that it actually affected the charities she was working for. People actually stopped donating because of what they read in the newspapers, which was largely untrue. They did a lot of silly things. There was a photo of Heather and I at Stella’s fashion show, and it looked like Heather was doing two peace signs with her fingers and some journalist said, “Oh, she’s copying Linda.” And actually, on closer inspection, it was my hands. But who cares? They’re just having a go. I mean, who gives a shit who gives a V sign?

They also claimed she was doing a cookbook when she wasn’t. We get asked to give a recipe to an Amnesty cookbook or a vegetarian society cookbook, so you do that and it comes out as she’s doing a cookbook. It’s changed a bit since the Parky show. A lot of people like that show, and she changed a lot of people’s minds. In fact, we were walking the dog in Regent’s Park this morning and somebody came up and said, “That was really good on the Parky show!” The main point she made that people appreciated was that with this sort of arbitrary press sniping, it doesn’t affect her so much as it affects the charity, and the disabled people who might have got a leg if there’d been the money raised.

Somebody in one of the papers even said she was under investigation for her charity work, and that completely undermines what she’s trying to achieve. It turned out not to be true but, as you know, the apology appears on page 10 where no one sees it three weeks after all the damage has been done. The same thing happened in the early days with Linda but, as Parky said on the show, it comes with the territory – marrying this guy. It’s not so much me, though, it’s just fame. The same thing happens if you marry Tom Cruise, or Michael Douglas. You get a load of shit. You may have married him because you love him, but now you’re a sitting target.

I noticed that George’s death elicited a very different reaction among my friends than John’s did. John’s was horrible because it was sudden and unexpected and he was young. But I think George’s death reminded my entire generation of our own mortality. It’s as if we measure our own lives alongside the lives of artists we loved. Did you get any sense of that?

To me, of course, it was more of a personal thing. Privately, I felt the same way about both of them. I had lost a dear friend who I would never see again. But when John died, because of the shock, during that day I was asked what I felt about John’s death and all I could stumble across was, “It’s a drag.” I couldn’t gather my thoughts. We were just in shock. I was just shouting stuff about the guy who’d shot John.

I was very lucky that my relationship with John had been healed. It had been vicious, but were phoning each other, talking about kids, baking bread, cats, being a husband – all the simple shit that really means a lot to me. That was the consolation before the terrible shock.

With George’s death, because we knew it was happening, I was able to be more considered in my reaction. I was able to go and hold his hand… but the bottom line is that I will see that man no more, and that’s a little bit horrific for me. When you lose someone dear you just wish someone could magic it all back again. And maybe there is some way, who knows, in the great beyond.

After all he’s been through, McCartney seems more at peace with himself than at any time since John’s death. He is keenly aware that, in the public perception, such actions as seeking to change the credits on Lennon-McCartney songs have tarnished his image, but he also knows that one of the greatest tricks of surviving immense fame is learning to recognise that you have an image, realising that your image isn’t you, and stepping away from it in order to get on with real life.

The punchline of that old song, A Satisfied Mind, is that, “It’s so hard to find one rich man in 10 with a satisfied mind.” There’s no telling how long it might last but it would seem that, for the moment, Paul McCartney is that one rich man.

Coming Up

While suffering a near-nervous breakdown during the Fabs’ prolonged disintegration, McCartney quietly worked on an ill-fated side-project that many now agree ranks among his best solo work. Chris Ingham basks in the understated glory of 1970’s McCartney.

Autumn of 1969, Paul McCartney was in a strange place. Feeling redundant following John Lennon’s announcement in an August meeting at Apple that he was leaving The Beatles, McCartney retreated to his farm in Scotland to drink, stay up, lie in and suffer what he would call “almost a nervous breakdown”.

At the same time, in the company of Linda, his bride of six months, step-daughter Heather and brand new baby daughter Mary, he also began to enjoy the ‘glow’ of being in a new family. By the time they returned to his St John’s Wood house for the winter, McCartney was sufficiently energised to do a little work from home. Plugging one microphone directly into a Studer multitrack with no VU monitoring or mixing desk, he overdubbed himself on drums, guitar, bass and keyboards, polishing his DIY recordings at Abbey Road (where he booked in as Billy Martin) and Morgan Studios, Willesden.

The resulting album McCartney – released in April 1970 simultaneously as The Beatles’ split became public knowledge – was almost universally received as a bit of a non-event. Modest, rough-hewn, semi-improvised, it was the unshaven opposite of The Beatles’ pristine work on Abbey Road which had appeared only eight months before.

Yet, over 30 years on, it holds up as a funky home-brew of a record, groovily lo-fi in a way that wouldn’t be fashionable for a couple of decades. The primitive experimentalism and bluesy jams that were for years dismissed as semi-distracted indulgence now sound, well, rather cool. The drumming is rudimentary but deep, the guitar playing bluesy and distinctive (and much admired by Paul Weller for one), the sound is warm and present, “very analogue” as McCartney recognises now.

And as an expression of where he was at – ‘home, family, love’ – it is as vivid as anything he ever did. The informal paeans to his new wife – The Lovely Linda, Oo You – are respectively radiant with natural affection and earthy passion while the majestic Maybe I’m Amazed confirmed that, when he felt like it, his ability to shape inspiration with unmatched pop craft was secure.

Elsewhere, if lovers of McCartney’s straightforward pop are short-changed – the delightful Every Night and Junk notwithstanding – it’s because he just felt like recording other things; the ethereal sound made by wine glasses (Glasses), a dusted-off Silver Beatles instrumental (Hot As Sun), or a rather compelling chant-and-percussion sound painting of an African tribe (Kreen-Akrore). It’s the very wilfulness of McCartney – the organic sound of an artist learning how to express himself in whatever way he pleases – that gives the album a “realness” that somehow appeals more with the passage of time.

As Paul wrote in 1970 to journalist Penny Valentine, who had spoken for many by expressing her disappointment with the record, “even at this moment it is growing on you.” It still is.

Timeless melody

A purveyor of silly songs? No, a compositional genius…

Peter Buck, R.E.M.: Ram is an amazing record. Ram On? That’s like something off Pet Sounds. The Back Seat Of My Car is amazing. Wings’ Wild Life is really cool. It just sounds like he was in the biggest band of all time, he goes, “Hey we just got a drummer, let’s make a record this week, without any songs!” Dear Friend is one of my favourite songs he ever wrote, which is probably about John. I love that song. I actually recorded it with the Minus 5. Needless to say, the stuff he did with The Beatles was pretty decent too. The thing that boggles my mind is that when they broke up, nobody was 30, and George was 26. He was 26?! Jeez.

Brendan Benson: It’s his genuine fascination for music and music theory, him as a composer, explorer and experimenter, especially his post-Beatles work. He’s a great arranger, the way he puts his songs together. Band On The Run is his masterpiece. It works on so many different level: it’s a simple pop record, yet the way he ties in the melodies throughout makes it something more. It’s a work of genius, so huge and epic yet never outstaying its welcome. He tears at the heartstrings with his mix of mellow, dark and pleasing sounds. There’s never anything harsh or abrasive, just super moody songs, full of melancholic nostalgia.

Andy Partridge, XTC: He’s so fab because he’s so ludicrously melodic and he’s not afraid to be soppy. It takes a lot of guts to do that. My favourite song? It’s Getting Better is so fantastically optimistic, with this great convoluted construction, twisting around. And that bass playing –it’s actually just like his singing, piping and flute-like. And Hello/Goodbye, those opening chords reach in like a ray of sunshine. Again, it��s ferociously optimistic. You know you’re going to have a good experience. It’s not this fake seriousness you get now. He’s never had a problem restricting himself to one thing – he can rock out, be avant-garde, do children’s music, pop for the teens… it’s preposterous that he’s seen as the second-best Beatle – I think the whole thing was an equally jewelled tug of love between them. Although I do wonder why you never see McCartney and Angela Lansbury in the same room.

Gladys Knight: For me it was when Paul took control of the group that The Beatles were at their best. He’s so gifted at writing words and I always choose songs for their lyrical content. I must have worn the grooves off Let It Be. I’d get up in the morning playing it, go to bed playing it, cook to it, clean up to it. The title track was just a song that touched my spirit and that’s why I decided to cover it, because it touched my soul.

Tom McRae: The man is a genius for melody. The second side of Abbey Road – particularly Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight is one of the greatest Beatles’ moments and Paul’s shining moment. It goes from this brilliant beautiful ballad, his voice so lush and romantic, to turning, in a split second, into a raucous rock number; the best of both sides of his art all in the space of one song. It’s so emotive and there’s a challenging simplicity in his melody and lyrics.

Ben Kweller: The first album I ever fell in love with was Let It Be. I was eight and listened to it non-stop. Paul’s lyrics are so focused on the subject matter and the emotion he brings to the songs is so sincere and honest. Those massive piano ballads like The Long And Winding Road just make me swell up inside. His voice is so pure and beautiful and his musicianship is often overlooked. He reinvented bass playing and excelled at the guitar, piano and drums.

#2003 #interviewed: paul #interviewer: johnny black #paul mccartney #full article placeholder tag

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firelxrdsdaughter · 6 years ago

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The Hand of Kyoshi | Preview Chapter

Hey guys! So for the past few months I’ve been steadily working on two pieces for the @avatarbaang!

We are fast approaching our posting dates, and so I thought to give you guys a treat I would post the first chapters of both of my pieces here so that you can have a read through and see what you’re in for. xD

The Hand of Kyoshi follows Suki when she has first made rank in the Kyoshi warriors, and fills in the blanks about her history before we ever meet her in canon. Hope you guys enjoy!

The Hand of Kyoshi

synopsis: The hand of Kyoshi no longer stretches so far as it used to.

When Suki is little, all she thinks about is her Island and the people on it. Her mother (the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors), and her mother’s friends, and the villagers are the only family and the only thing that she has ever known. The world outside of Kyoshi Island seems like a distant fairytale told by travellers visiting for trade. It’s certainly not something that could invade her home and make things change.

This is all challenged when news of the Fire Nation’s growing influence in the Earth Kingdom reaches their ears. It soon becomes apparent that they cannot stay out of the fight forever…And her mother wants to do something about it now.

Her footsteps thud heavily against the dusty dirt road, and her breath is noisy in her ears. The earth is packed down from the passage of hundreds of pairs of feet, jarring through her small frame at each pump of her legs in her steady jog from the marketplace and back up the steep mountain incline toward the dojo that she calls home.

Beneath the sound of her breath her heart thunders, buzzing with her excitement.

The girl barely feels the weight of the basket of supplies which pulls down on her reedy arms and at her back and neck.

A bright grin peels back her cheeks, the wind whipping past her in her progress toward the dojo at the North edge of the town which she has called home since birth.

The precious jars that sit at the bottom of the basket, ensconced in the bright green fabric of her freshly made kimono and hakama, still manage to clack against one another with every impact of the soles of her sandals against the ground. They jangle like bells calling her forth to the battlefield. She feels them sing inside of her blood.

“Slow down or you'll hurt yourself!" Kenji’s chesty voice comes out to greet her as she passes his estate. She looks over her shoulder briefly with a nod of deference to the town’s elder. He peers back at her anxiously from the open gate that stands before his house.

“I’ll be careful,” she promises as she returns her attention to the road before her, not once breaking pace. She can almost hear him shaking his head and mumbling about young people and their inability to slow down and take the world a little bit at a time. Always in a hurry.

It doesn’t take long to reach the dojo despite the distance. The roofline climbs up over the crest of the hill as the girl ascends, swooping out like a dragon’s wings. The earth tones of the building’s wooden exterior contrast with the blazing autumn colours around it, stark and familiar. She smiles, her lungs expanding and contracting comfortably despite the exertion of her run.

The girl follows the familiar path down to the entrance of the main building, toeing off her sandals before she pounds barefoot across the wood of the deck and stops to bob a quick bow to the small shrine at the head of the room before she speed walks across the soft tatami to where the familiar figure of her mother sits before it, lighting incense methodically.

Mio is not a tall woman, by any means, nor is her appearance all that remarkable. Her chestnut hair hangs low on her back, collected partway down into a soft, green, piece of material to keep it out of her way. Her kimono is practical and well worn. Dark forest green contrasted with a simple obi in dusty rose.

“Mom I’m back!”

The woman turns to face her, her soft, narrow, middle-aged features almost unrecognizable without the signature warpaint of Kyoshi. She smiles at her daughter.

“Suki, welcome home.” She rolls to her knees, turning around on the mats to face the twelve-year-old and her burden.

“You got everything?”

“Yes mom,” she answers obediently, immediate, beaming proudly.

A small, amused, smirk tucks itself into her mother’s cheek before the woman reaches out her hands for the basket, finally relieving Suki of its burden.

Her mother grunts at the weight.

“You carried this all by yourself?” Mio seems almost surprised, and Suki flushes.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be done,” Suki points out, stomach fluttering, “isn’t it?”

Another smile spreads across the Kyoshi Warrior’s face, warm and slow.

“Yes, that’s right.” There’s more her mother wants to say. Suki can see the desire behind her blue-green eyes, but as per usual the Captain of the Kyoshi Warriors is silent on anything further to do with the matter.

“Are you ready for tonight then,” Mio questions.

Suki’s heart rate rises once again and, breathless, she nods her head in agreement.

“Yes, mom.”

Her mother’s expression remains soft. Suki thinks that there is even something sad behind the look in her eye. Something that Suki herself cannot name. All she feels is excitement.

Nerves.

She’s going to prove herself.

“Good,” Mio finally says, “remember that you’ll need to rest. There’s no use in wearing yourself out,” her tone is pointed at Suki’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes, “not when there will be plenty of that this evening when you take the next steps on your journey.”

Suki tries to put on a serious face, and she presses her lips together, nodding her head decisively.

“Yes mom, I know.” But it’s difficult, she thinks, to even consider standing still. A warrior must be able to plant themselves like a tree; serene but always ready to bend with the changing wind. Her whole body is abuzz with energy. Suki thinks she could keep going for days and days with all of the energy that courses through her.

She wonders if it’s the same for all of the girls who are about to become fully fledged Kyoshi Warriors. She wonders if even the women that her mother trained were the same. She wonders if her mother was the same.

“Mom —?”

Her mother pauses in the midst of getting to her feet, basket in hand, looking expectantly at Suki.

“…What was your ceremony like?”

“Mine?”

“Yes…Yours. Do you remember?” Suki thinks it was probably so long ago that maybe her mother does not recall what it was like to go from novice to master.

The woman snorts, standing fully and resting the basket at her hip with ease.

“Of course I remember. I think everyone does.” She gestures at Suki with her free hand. “Come on, we’ll walk and talk.”

Suki follows her mother eagerly from the training hall and into the hallway in the interior building, the two of them slipping their feet into grass slippers before they make their way down the hallway and toward the kitchen.

The smell of wood smoke permeates the space, drifting from rooms where other Kyoshi Warriors are living, boarding with them rather than going home to their families on the other side of the island. For some, it is worth saving themselves the three hour trip by foot between the far larger settlement that the dojo inhabits and the smaller one on the Northern side of the island.

Paper screens obscure any hint of what might go on beyond them, but here and there, where one of the women has opened her second door onto the outside, a shadow can be seen. A silhouette of a figure going about their morning routine.

Like a play put on with shadow puppets.

Suki’s eyes dart back to her mother who has pulled ahead of her somewhat, and she hurries her steps to catch up, matching her mother’s stride after a moment.

“So?”

The woman looks down sideways at her, an amused expression in place on her fine features, full lips parting after a moment.

“I was nervous,” she says, “but excited.”

Suki nods. That’s exactly the way that she would describe her own feelings on the matter.

“I wasn’t as young as you are,” she admits, “but I was young enough. My own mother didn’t really think I was ready, but the others convinced her that I was prepared for my trial. I’m glad that they did. I think that, even if I wasn’t quite ready, it helped me move forward with my training. It was the next step in my journey. I learned a lot merely going through the trial itself. From the mentor who I battled, and about myself.”

Suki smiles brightly at the thought. Learning about herself. She likes that sentiment.

“Mio?”

Both Suki and her mother turn toward the voice that comes from one of the rooms at the end of the hall. Her mother’s second in command, Haru, has poked her round face out of her door, and she looks expectantly at the two of them. Mio turns with a smile to face her more fully.

“Yes?”

“When you have a moment I had wanted to speak to you about the preparations for tonight,” Haru says seriously.

Suki sees her mother suppress a sigh before nodding soberly at the other woman.

“Of course, Haru. I will be back to speak with you soon. Will you still be in your quarters?”

“For now, yes.”

“Alright.”

Both Mio and Suki turn from Haru, starting on their journey down the hall once more.

They reach the quieter interior of the large building that their family has kept up for generation; it feels homier here, in Suki’s opinion. There is less of the hustle and bustle of the every day.

Sometimes, as a child, she had wished that she could have siblings to fill up the interior halls too. She had wished that it wasn’t so quiet. Now, she appreciates it. The idea that she does not have any siblings to take their mother’s attention off of her on a day which is so important for Suki.

It would have been nice to have her father though.

In companionable silence, the two of them reach Suki’s room, and her mother pulls the paper screen away from the opening, kneeling and settling the basket on the soft tatami floor before entering and beckoning for Suki to follow.

She kicks off her slippers, lining them up perfectly alongside her mother’s on the hall floor, and comes to kneel in the interior of her room, sliding the door closed again before she returns her attention to her mother.

The commander of the Kyoshi Warriors has moved to the center of Suki’s room and is taking the contents of the basket out to lie on the floor.

The green wool kimono that they’d sent to the tailor for two weeks previous, stitched with expertise. Suki had managed to take a look at the work before she’d got home, and she knows well enough that the stitches are so small in the seams that one can barely tell that they’re even there at all.

She wishes her own sewing were so skilled. Alas, it isn’t her strong suit. The kimono is followed by the deep green ceremonial hakama. Her mother lays them both out cleanly, smoothing away the wrinkles of transport.

They’re followed by terracotta jars, painted with lacquer and gold leaf. Their war paint is contained within. The chalky scent of the white and red face paints will follow her everywhere today, once she has been readied. A smell that she has always associated with her mother and her aunties.

Suki kneels, waiting patiently for her mother to finish with her task, trying not to fidget. A warrior can remain completely still and serene, calm even in the face of battle.

“In an hour you will take the sacred bath,” her mother says as she puts the finishing touches on her display in the center of the room, “and wash away your impurities. Then you will go to the temple and meditate until sundown.”

Suki knows all of this, of course, but it is her mother’s duty to remind her, and it is her duty to listen. She takes a deep breath and settles where she is sitting, nodding seriously at her mother’s instructions.

“No food or drink will pass your lips until the feast tonight, to remind you of the hunger that those we are meant to serve suffer.”

This, of course, is symbolic too. Their people do not suffer from hunger like in the old days, and the hand of Kyoshi no longer stretches outside of their island. Suffering, however, is meant to be understood by a good acolyte of Kyoshi, and Suki is willing to suffer the hunger that is required of her for her trial.

“Yes, mother.”

Mio’s expression softens again, and she reaches forward, taking one of Suki’s hands between her own. She sighs heavily.

“Look at you, growing up right in front of me.” Mio turns her head away, retrieving one of her hands to wipe at the corner of an eye.

Suki smiles back at her mother, her chest feeling fit to burst.

“Don’t cry, mom.”

“I’m not,” Mio denies, grinning at her daughter when she turns back to her. A wet trail runs down her cheek.

“Yes you are.” The girl gets onto her knees and shuffles toward her mom, bringing her hands up to wipe her tears away. “No one can stay a kid forever.”

Her mother laughs. Suki wishes she wouldn’t, but at least it isn’t tears.

“That is very true,” she says, taking Suki’s wrists between her fingers and turning her face to kiss her palms.

Mio stands, releasing her as she goes.

“One hour,” she reminds Suki.

“I know mom.” Suki smiles back at her, face turned upward as the other woman makes her way back to the door of her room.

“We’ll all be waiting.”

Suki feels her heart racing in her chest, the clack of the door closed behind her mother sounding more final than she had ever thought possible. She takes a deep breath.

Suki had never thought that meditating for the better part of a day could leave her so tired and disoriented. She can barely think straight as her tabi’d foot slides onto the tatami of the dojo floor, soft and silent.

She doesn’t feel like the same person.

Her skin itches under her layers of makeup, and her shoulders and middle feel overly weighted with the traditional armour which covers her uniform. In the silence of the room, filled to the rafters with people come to witness her test, the only thing that Suki can hear is the tinkling of her headgear.

She comes to kneel before her mother, and the two other warriors situated at the front of the room, before the shrine to their predecessors. Suki bows low, forehead pressed to the backs of her gloved hands.

The rustle of fabric as everyone else in the dojo bows as well is deafening.

“Suki of Kyoshi Island,” her mother begins, voice booming in the silence which follows, “Avatar Kyoshi calls you forth to begin your trial. Do you accept her call?”

Suki straightens to look at her mother, still half-bent in her deference.

“Osu!” Her assent echoes around the room, resounding in her ears. Confident. Suki bows again, forehead touching the mats.

She straightens.

“Do you accept the responsibility of defending our people and all innocent people who cannot defend themselves from harm, as is our way?”

“Osu!” Another bow. Straighten.

“Do you understand the gravity of the power which will be handed to you should you succeed in your trial, and receive the golden belt which will brand you forever more a Kyoshi Warrior?”

“Osu!”

“Then please stand, and let the trial begin.”

Suki is glad for her empty belly, though it pangs with every movement. She thinks that if it had been full, she might have thrown up. Suki closes her eyes and breathes, bowing again before she moves to the center of the room. She forces herself to grin, falling into a ready stance.

This part of the ceremony, like the rest, is relatively predictable. Weeks before she had been assigned an opponent to take her trial with — an elder who she wished to follow in the footsteps of once she has been granted her status as a warrior of Avatar Kyoshi. Riko, one of the younger warriors, with a broad smile and a cheerful disposition, had volunteered to be her mentor.

So Suki waits for her to rise from her seat at the side of the room, and to join her on the mats to test her skills.

“Challenger,” Mio announces, her voice ringing through the quiet hush that has settled over all of those who have come to spectate, “please proceed forward.”

Suki glances her way only briefly before returning her gaze to the empty space before her, hands free and up in a defensive position, ready. Riko shifts in her seat, ready to stand, and then stops. She looks wide-eyed at the front of the room. Suki looks again, frowning.

Her stomach drops as, from the assembled commanders at the front of the dojo, Haru stands. Her heart starts to thunder in her ears.

This is unheard of.

Her mother looks at Haru, but in the end she says nothing. Suki can see that she is not pleased with Haru’s actions. A scowl pulls at her features, making her look more severe than usual.

The girl trains her gaze forward again, feeling herself begin to sweat in her uniform. She tries to guess what this means, but most of all, she doesn't know how to proceed. Haru is not her partner or her mentor, Riko is. Does this mean that she has been ousted? What will happen if Suki fails against Haru?

What will —?

There is precious little time left to consider the ramifications of what is about to happen. Haru comes to a stop before her, her arms outstretched, mirroring Suki’s position.

No signal is given to start their match. Suki looks owlishly at Haru even as she chooses to attack her from the front.

One on one competitions like this one usually have a structure. A technique that is meant to be practiced over and over until it is ingrained in the muscles. The challenge that Suki faces now, however, is up in the air.

Of the hundreds of techniques that she knows, she must draw on her knowledge and use it to her advantage to win the fight. Suki can barely think, let alone act, and a frontal attack looks deceptively easy.

She acts.

Suki flows with the strike, pivoting all the way around, the weight of Haru’s knuckles brushing against her palm before she takes a firm hold of Haru’s wrist.

Her toes dig into the soft grass mats. She shoots forward with her hips. She throws the other woman well across the room with the momentum of their shared movements.

Suki’s mouth hangs open.

Haru rolls, spinning on her knee to face Suki once more. She looks — determined.

Haru launches herself back toward Suki. Suki meets her head-on, catching her in the crook of an elbow, sending her back onto her rump once again.

Haru grabs her ankle, foot hooking behind Suki’s knee.

The girl falls as well. The other warrior scrambles to get atop of her, fist ready to strike down at her face. Suki cocks her hips, grabs onto the wrist of the hand twisted in the front of her gi.

They roll backward.

When they recover, it’s Suki straddled on Haru’s chest. Her elder looks surprised, if only for a moment. Haru bucks. Suki tries to dig her toes into the mats. She feels her body tip in the unseating.

She rolls out of the way. Back on her feet. Suki thumbs at her nose. Maybe a little too cocky. The older warrior’s face could have been flushed under her makeup. Suki cannot tell…But there is a familiar set to her jaw. as though she is frustrated; annoyed with Suki’s show of confidence.

The two of them breathe harshly in the quiet of the dojo.

There’s tension from the crowd. Suki reminds herself to ignore them.

Haru strikes from overhead.

Suki feels her heart jump in her surprise. Muscle memory takes over. She catches the strike, leading hand on Haru’s elbow. She twists, pushing the other woman back. She grabs her hand and pivots. Turns back. Haru collapses backward with but the twitch of Suki’s hand against her own and she moves to roll the other warrior to her belly.

Her grip is not what it should be.

Haru catches Suki behind the knees again, the two women crying out (Suki in surprise) as once again the younger finds herself on her back. There is noise from the crowd. They’ve started to get excited. Suki breathes out sharply.

Haru allows her to stand, and the two of them pant, facing one another, hands at the ready. Haru seems calmer than before. It makes Suki uneasy.

Haru falls back into a defensive stance. Suki changes her own stance, gaze hardening in resolve when she realises that she is being invited to attack first.

A Kyoshi Warrior must attack as well as defend. This is a foundational principle.

Ready for anything. Stop the situation before it gets out of hand.

Suki comes forward, chopping down from the side with the blade of her hand. Haru catches her. Solid. Suki just manages to block the fist that comes toward her face to distract her. Haru’s other hand brushes her attacking arm away. The second in command comes in close, her dominant arm heavy against Suki’s chest. She feels her spine strain. Her body is pulled back by Haru’s hand at the nape of her neck.

Her body sways left. Haru throws her right.

Suki rounds her back, breaking the fall with a slap of her arms against the mats, but it is resounding anyway. Her chest feels tight for a moment before she has recovered and flipped herself back onto her feet. She pivots as Haru comes toward her in another attack, catching her arm and letting the momentum of the other woman continue to propel her forward passed Suki’s position and precariously close to the assembled warriors knelt to the side of the dojo mats.

Suki’s hands come back into a ready position, her blue eyes trained on Haru as she recovers.

The older Kyoshi Warrior laughs. It sounds pleased in spite of her apparent determination to…Well, Suki’s not sure what. Haru grabs hold of a wooden staff, hidden from Suki’s sight by the group of other warriors. She dances out of the way of the first swing of the wooden weapon toward her.

To the side. Step. Down as she swipes at her head. Step. Suki bends back out of the way of another swipe, this time at her throat. She feels her momentum backward. Rolls rather than fall on her rump.

She finds herself close enough to the extra weapons that they house on the far wall of the dojo that she can reach out and grab her own short staff.

She catches Haru’s next strike with a backward swipe of her weapon. It turns in her hand. She strikes out, stopping short of Haru’s throat.

Her mother’s second in command stops abruptly, eyeing down the length of Suki’s weapon. She lets out a burst of breath through her teeth, and swipes the staff aside with her own, backing off.

Suki falls into a defensive stance with the staff once again, stepping back with each strike of Haru’s weapon against her own in the thick silence of the dojo. Suki feels the turn of the battle’s tide as it happens. Her spine strains, her balance off as she retreats.

Haru bears down on her until Suki cannot keep hold of her weapon any longer, disarmed by an expert thrust and parry. Sent to her back again with a sharp strike to her stomach which winds her. Suki struggles to draw in breath even as she raises her hands in front of her face, trying to shuffle back. She digs her heels into the mats to propel her away from Haru.

The second in command is not deterred. She makes to strike again.

“Enough!”

Haru’s weapon stops before it can descend, and Suki feels the tension in her own limbs lingering even as the second in command looks over at her mother, lowering her weapon and stepping out of her offensive stance.

“The trial is over. Warriors, back to your marks,” she instructs firmly, levelling a glare at Haru.

Suki sits up in a flurry once Haru has backed down, scrambling wearily to her feet, hearing a ringing in her ears. She sways but stays standing, at the ready. Mirroring one another the two of them fall to at ease and then bow. Haru exits the mats. Suki cannot help but catch the brief, satisfied, tug of her mouth into a smile before she has schooled her expression again and turned back to the gathered audience, sitting back in her assigned place.

Suki turns to face the front of the room and her mother.

“Candidate Suki.” Her mother’s voice has softened again, her expression too. Suki is glad for the makeup that obscures the flush she feels rushing to her cheeks at the marked difference. “You have done well. You are free to wash and take some time to yourself whilst we deliberate on the outcome of your trial. Please, be excused.”

Suki bows again, her heart even louder in her ears than before, if possible. She walks steadily from the dojo, but she feels faint. She will not faint. She will not make a fool of herself. She will not —

Safely out on the terrace, hidden behind the paper shoji that obscures the majority of the dojo, Suki allows overwhelmed tears to slide down her painted cheeks, streaking her makeup further than her sweat has already done. Something inside of her knows that the test was more than just a simple test to see if she is ready. She knows that Haru meant to hurt her, if she could get away with it. That she wanted to prove something to her mother and had used Suki as a vehicle to do so.

Perhaps it is simply to show that Suki is neither ready nor skilled enough to earn her gold belt yet. Perhaps that she will never be ready?

Will she ever be ready?

Her thoughts reeling, Suki finds her way to one of the many empty public courtyards in close vicinity to the dojo and sits on the bench provided there, taking in sharp breaths, trying to even her pulse and stop the sobs that threaten to be loud enough to wake the island’s very dead.

A dull scrape sounds behind her. Suki jumps, turning to see who might be lurking, remembering her eyes and wiping at them ineffectually. All it serves to do is smudge red and white all over her gloves. It’s Kenji.

The old man shuffles his way over to her, silent until he occupies the space that sits empty beside the little girl, grunting out almost dramatically as he sits. His knees crack loudly.

Suki looks sidelong at him again, bowing her head, shame heating her face once more.

“That was an impressive display in there,” he begins conversationally, “you’ve worked so hard and come so far, Suki. Imagine a young girl like you holding her own against a seasoned warrior. Your mother must be very proud.”

Suki sniffles, brow furrowing.

“I didn’t — “ she protests. He interrupts her.

“And with Miss Haru not holding back like that — she must have been so frustrated to find that you would not go down so easily. Or maybe she was impressed.”

Suki’s brow furrows yet further, but her blue eyes fix on the elder, hands fidgeting in her lap.

“You think so…?” she asks hesitantly.

Kenji smiles, the gaps in his teeth stark.

“I think so.”

“I don’t really think that Haru likes me,” she admits then, turning her face back toward her lap, and smoothing out the dark green fabric of her hakama.

“Haru’s always been a grump,” Kenji says with a harrumph. “She’ll get over it, and she’ll warm up to you for it too. I can guarantee as much.”

“If you say so,” Suki agrees reluctantly.

Kenji smiles again, reaching over to place his arm around her narrow shoulders. He hugs her tight to him, and breathes in deep, looking up at the dusk sky where the stars have already started to appear in pinpricks of distant light above them.

“Your dad would be so proud too.”

“My dad?"

“Yes. Ryuichi was smitten with your mum because of her skills as a warrior. Amongst other things. I bet he’s beaming with pride in the spirit world for what you’ve accomplished today. His own little girl.”

Suki’s face scrunches a little, and she feels the urge to cry sticking in the back of her throat once again. She swallows, working the tight ache of it away. She smiles. She feels her limbs soften.

“Thanks, Uncle.”

#ooc #The Hand of Kyoshi #my writing #short fic #the entire thing's about 25k #and honestly I never thought I had it in me to write that much when it came to fan work but #here we are #:DDD #Suki #avatar: the last airbender #fanfiction #this chapter's long so my apologies to your eyes. xD #theavatarbaang

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roll-for-stupidity · 6 years ago

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5E (Take 2) Recap #3: Grungeons and Dragons (Day 2 of 2)

Alright so if it wasn’t apparent by the “Day 2 of 2″ above, the party got done with this conflict pretty quick in game time (but fuck if it ever took forever in real time. I think even I, the person who came up with this shit, was sick of these little froggies by the end of it. But let’s break down what happened.

I think I’ll start with the green group (even though when we played we started with blue, and we actually held different sessions with only the players in the group present, which now that I think about it was better than the two alternatives which were either one group doesn’t play and just sits there or I bounce back and forth and go insane. So yeah, different sessions).

Oa, Thespin, and Debbie all followed Ea to a hunting party and introduces them to Snuck, the de-facto organizer for dividing up hunting groups and explains that this is their first day out. He divides up the other groups, then takes the four greens (get it? cuz they’re newbies? green? I love hate myself)

Side note: you might be thinking,

“In a closed society of grungs surely they all know each other and an outsider would be really fucking weird and unusual. Also how do they continue to find stuff to hunt in this forest? Wouldn’t there be a case of overhunting? This world and society are not sustainable. Obviously not much thought or effort was put into the creation of this world. In this essay I will...”

In response to that: I honestly didn’t think of it, so fuck you for asking. DMing shit is hard. I forget stuff. Remember that time I forgot to mention a very crucial detail that would tip @baumguy off to the fact that a door might be trapped? It happens.

Back to the action

Snuck shows them the territory they hunt in, bringing them all the way out to the edge of the treeline on the northern part of the forest. Stretching out in front of them, and in an arc to the east and west circling back towards the mountain is that giant gorge Oa spotted from the cave at the top of the mountain.

Up close, this gorge is massive, even for the party at their normal sizes concealed by Bahamut’s magic. It’s easily 100 feet across and so deep that the bottom is indiscernible, the shadow of the far wall casting its full blackness before the bottom is visible.

The only interesting feature this gorge contains is veins of a red, clay-like material woven into the grey stone composing the walls of these cliffs. The only thing Snuck can tell them about it is that it’s in the wall all the way around the gorge.

The party then engage in some hunting themselves, and whether it was due to their larger size, good rolls, luck, or a combination of the three, both Thespin and Debbie brought down a large buck each, easily meeting the green grungs’ quota for the day.

Back at the green camp, the grungs all celebrate the good haul, some going to bed early for probably the first time in awhile, others enjoying some of the meat from the previous day’s job Tak’erak and the other guards didn’t bring back with them. Around a campfire as the sun began to set, Thespin plays a tune as bards tend to do, and Debbie and Thespin settle in for the first (relatively) calm evening both of them have had since this whole thing began.

Oa had other ideas. Using his aasimar ability to grow wings for a short span once a day, he decides to make me as the DM improvise shit as he flies across the gorge.

Which is great, it’s honestly fantastic when my players do that, because I think it helps me to get better as a DM (and it definitely helped prepare me for something coming up soon). And it plays into why I love D&D so much. Sure for a lot of people, it’s just a game, something to do that’s a little more involved than a board game or even some video games. But as a writer and a storyteller, the allure of D&D to me is to be able to tell a story collaboratively, and I think the collaboration aspect only makes the story better because it gives my players a sense of agency that it’s really, really easy as a DM to take away out of a desire to control the story, and I try my hardest to refrain from doing that.

Sorry, tangent, I know. But it’s an important tangent for me. But moving on

In my design of this world, I did not have anything important across the gorge, and I think in hindsight, the only thing I was thinking there was, I didn’t want my players to think that they had to search an entire world to find what they were looking for, just search the area I presented them with.

But, having to think on my toes, I think I came up with a way to give my player a clue without feeling like I was trying not to reward a good solid play. On the other side of this gorge, Oa found a bit of that red clay, kind of balling it up in his fingers a bit. After feeling the consistency, he dropped a ball of it, deciding to move on until he heard a sort of sizzling behind him, followed by a loud “POP,” and where the ball of clay fell, a small crater lay smoking in the ground.

With this strange discovery, Oa pressed on, until he reached where the gorge intersected the mountain. The gorge didn’t pass through, but rather just ended, with a sheer cliffside preventing any discernable way to climb up to the more snowy region down which the party sled after their entrance to this world.

He did however see a small square hole that he couldn’t quite see into, but he could see a faint, flickering light inside. And then another hole, twenty feet away, and then another hole twenty feet away from that hole.

These holes continued a good way down the side of this cliff face at regular intervals until for about sixty feet there were no holes. Then the holes began again, and just as Oa was about to turn back, he realized he could hear voices. Very faint ones, but voices nonetheless. And the voices were quite familiar, because they were the voices of Sunflower and Ramen. But we’ll get to that in a sec.

Our other grung friends, the blues, which

Another side note: the SECOND I divided them into two groups, they each started talking shit about the other group SO hard. Which like, was perfect because that’s literally what both groups do anyway when they’re not trying to meet their quota so their groups don’t fall apart

Anywho, Ramen, Riker, and Sunflower made their way with the blue grungs to the mining camp, where they talked to the grung in “charge,” Ragga-Bom

Another side note, I say like “leader” and “in charge,” but really there is no top dawg on either side. Every grung is just as likely to be picked for each day’s Weigh-In, except for the elders. Any grung who lives to a certain age (I can’t remember the actual number, but just think senior citizen but in grung years), is exempt from being chosen. The only other way to gain immunity is to either win the Rite of Ascendency (something I’ll get to), or be directly related to someone who did.

Ragga-Bom doesn’t question the blue grungs he’s never seen before rolling up because I’m a dummy, but he gives them a tour of the mine, which consists of a long straight tunnel into the mountain, with side tunnels to either side every 20 feet or so.

The three follow past some of the tunnels deeper where it seems the majority of the grungs are working, then they come to a tunnel that has been closed off with rubble making any attempt at passage almost impossible. Ragga-Bom explains that there was a mining accident that caused the tunnel to collapse after an explosion, and they decided to refrain from digging in that area.

Past the closed tunnel a little ways, the mining tunnels start back up again. Riker pops inside this one to investigate while the other two make their way towards the current back of the main shaft. Inside, he sees torches casting flickering light on the walls, and he can see veins of red clay snaking across the wall, something that was not in the mine tunnels close to the entrance.

Before he gets the chance to investigate further, an explosion from a few tunnels back from the closed shaft shakes the mine, and running back with his party members and Ragga-Bom, he and the others can see two blue grungs limping out of the tunnel.

Ragga-Bom orders an evacuation until they can get a handle on the situation, and when everyone is outside, Ragga-Bom asks one of the injured miners where the third member of their three-man party is (grungs always mine and hunt in threes), and the two just shake their heads.

With that harrowing note, the party are horrified to see the uninjured grungs make their way back into the mine because, despite the tragedy that just occurred, they know things will be much worse if they cannot make up for the lost time and resources caused by this accident before tomorrow.

Sunflower and the others decide to make their way back into town, and when they do, they see a curious sight. A blue grung, but hunched over with his fingers drumming against his lower lip beckons the party to follow him.

They do so, cautiously, and he takes them to a tent, ratty and probably insufficient cover for any rain or any other sort of force of nature. But he darts inside and rustles around until he finds what he’s looking for: three round balls, probably the size of golf balls, of that red clay.

He tells the party with a crazed raspy voice that his name is Taka, and these things he is holding are called Taka Bombs (a very clever and original grung, this Taka), and when the party asks him what they are, he giggles excitedly and jumps up and down then throws one at a tree not far from where the party stands.

At first, it doesn’t seem to do much, sticking to the bark, but other than that appears to be a ball of clay sticking to a tree. But then the clay starts to fizzle, spreading out until the clay itself is almost paper thin wrapped around the trunk, and then the clay explodes, knocking down the entire tree in the process.

The party, absolutely gobsmacked (gobstopped? idk, their gobs were doing something that means they were blown away (heh, get it? no, I won’t stop, you can’t make me)) immediately want to purchase a million of them, but Taka explains he only has the two now, and demands a million gold for each. Ramen explains to the crazy little fella that he has a “special gold” worth all that and more, and he’ll give it to him for the balls of clay

The small blue grung mulls it over, stroking his chin and muttering to himself before finally grabbing the “special” gold excitedly, and stowing it in his tent, the party carefully storing the bombs in their pack.

Sunflower takes Taka aside and asks him about the Weigh-In ceremony, and his eyes kinda light up a bit, before looking downcast suddenly, muttering to himself again, mentioning how “you can go up, yes, up. but you can also go down, down, down....” and kind of trails off, looking dejected.

Sunflower then cautiously asks, “Did you come down, Taka? From the trees?”

Taka spasms and yells out “I was red in the trees but now I am blue on the ground” and howls, sounding absolutely heartbroken.

The party seem genuinely concerned for this little frog, but he runs inside his tent and closes the flap, and they can hear him muttering softly. They decided to head back, the sun quickly setting behind the trees.

Before they go to sleep, Sunflower tries to speak with one of the grungs just beginning their shift about Taka. He tells Sunflower that he personally didn’t know him that well “before the accident,” but they could talk with “the twins” when they got off at midnight. And with that, the grung walked into the mine, and Sunflower and the others went to sleep.

At midnight, Sunflower catches the twins, who introduce themselves as Ching-a-Ting, and K’Boom (don’t roll your eyes at the names, the MM literally says that grung names are onomatopoeia for various things, so bite me lol). She asks them about Taka, and they kinda sigh, telling Sunflower that Taka had been brought down from the castle, transforming him from a red grung to a blue, and the process had driven him a little insane.

But even that did not result in the way he was today. After weeks of trying to adjust to life as a blue grung, he finally decided to start mining. But he refused to work with anyone else, and no one really wanted to work with him anyway. They explained that they had kind of taken him under their wing and genuinely grew to like the guy.

But then he had a major accident when the shaft he was mining exploded. He pulled himself out of the rubble, but from that day he was completely batty.

Taking all that in, Sunflower asked about the bombs Taka had “sold” them, and when they saw the clay ball and confirmed that she knew just what that did, they tell her that she needs to speak with Ragga-Bom immediately.

Sunflower wakes Ramen, but is unable to rouse Riker, and so the two party members followed Ching-a-Ting and K’Boom to Ragga-Bom at the mouth of the cave, who looks absolutely exhausted. But when the twins explain what Sunflower has, he instantly is wide awake.

He explains that he’s been trying to keep his miners away from the stuff by having them dig in the tunnels closer to the entrance as that area seems to be more free of the stuff, saying that the explosion today should be all the explanation he needs for that. But he also motions for the four blue grungs to follow him into the mine.

They pass the main area, pass the closed off tunnel where they now know Taka had his accident, deeper a ways until they reach one of the deeper tunnels. This one is lit with only a few torches and inside is a single mine cart. But the walls of this shaft are filled with the red clay, which the twins explain that they have called tak after the grung who essentially discovered how it works.

Inside the mine cart are small balls of the clay that the grungs have seemingly taken great caution to gather. Ragga-Bom explains that when tak takes nearly any physical force, either colliding with something or being hit with something, it reacts by spreading to nearly flat, then causing an explosion. The larger the surface area after it spreads, the larger the explosion.

Ragga-Bom gestures to the mine cart and chuckles, saying that if anything will destroy the Weigh-In and the grungs who oversee it, it’ll be this. The party are horrified for a second, but slowly come to realize that this might be the only way to get to Nangnang, and the two present slowly begin to work with the twins, who despite having just finished their shift, seem eager to fill this cart and gain a second wind.

And it is these voices that Oa hears as he is making is late night stroll past what you all now know are air vents for these mine tunnels (if you didn’t figure that out, don’t worry, my party didn’t either).

Oa takes a good bit of the tak and throws it against the outer wall of the tunnel and the explosion blows the tunnel right open. Ching-a-Ting and K’Boom are speechless, and Ragga-Bom instantly steps in front of them and the mine cart as he witnesses an absolutely confusing sight: a green grung entering from outside of the cave, where the grungs cannot go due to how cold the mountain is where the tunnels end.

(See, sometimes you just gotta accept that there are rules about a world that make no sense. Like gravity! Ask any scientist how gravity works instead of what it does and they’ll throw their hands up in the air. Why don’t grungs mine through? Maybe it’s cuz there’s no ore out there! Maybe it’s cuz it’s too cold! Maybe they don’t want to! Mystery hour)

Oa basically pulls the, “it doesn’t matter how I can do what I can do, I can do it. Next question” and I honestly don’t know if they stayed and helped mine out more tak or if they went somewhere else, but they were doing something until dawn which is where we catch up with our other two favorite half-elves.

Thespin and Debbie wake up and decide to take their remaining time until the Weigh-In to talk to some of the other green grungs in the camp, specifically a very elderly couple whose names were Hooel and Cricka. They ask about the Rite of Ascendancy, and the couple explain it only happened once in their lifetime. An aunt of theirs, Thwippip, went out and killed a bear and brought it back, and the purple grung was so impressed, he invited the green grung up with them back to the castle.

Cricka explains that they never saw Thwippip again, but that she and her family were granted immunity from the Weigh-Ins, allowing her to grow as old as she has, her husband Hooel surviving on pure luck.

Debbie instantly decides that they have to go get a bear, and she and Thespin remember exactly where they found bears: on the mountain. Debbie’s enthusiasm was matched in equal measure by Thespin’s incredulity, but when Debbie met the rest of the party coming back from the tunnels, all six of the party got on board

I’ll save you the literal HOURS of combat this fight took (literally I think it spanned two sessions), but the party got some bears, the Weigh-In started, they dragged out the bears, and Tak’erak looked amused, but invites all six of them up to the dais where the ceremony took place. Before they could leave, the twins and Ragga-Bom shout to hold the show and bring up their offering, a mine cart seemingly full of gold from a “vein they just hit last night”

Tak’erak, perhaps in an attempt to avoid any confrontation, allows them to bring the minecart up, and leaving the bears and the minecart on the dais, knowing no grung would dare touch them, the six party members, three blue gruns, Tak’erak and three orange grung guards ascended the tree on the spiders that bring them up and down (yeah I think I forgot to mention these. If I had maybe the party’s not immediately attacking the grungs at the Weigh-In day one would have made more sense)

And from THIS point on, I fucking pulled everything out of my ass because I honestly genuinely did not think we would make it this far in the session we did so I had not planned it yet because I was busy as hell and just assumed it would take fucking forever to do the shit leading up to this. Like I said, DMing is hard

BUT, like I also said before, improv only gets better the more you do it, and I am pretty proud of how the entire rest of this arc went down.

Tak’erak brings them into a hanger of sorts where the spiders going up and down are kept, and explains to them that before they can see Nangnang, they need to go through the transformation ceremony, as Nangnang refuses to see the lower castes.

He then takes them into a large chamber with a long desk with three chairs facing the entrance, behind which are five large tubes of liquid. The first and second tubes have quite a bit, blue and green respectively. The next two have less, being red and orange. The final tube has very little liquid, but the liquid is purple.

The party soon realizes that the liquid drained from the grungs at the Weigh-Ins is what is in these tubes, but they don’t have time to process this thought as Tak’erak clears his throat and announces, “Welcome to the transformation chamber. I, as you probably know, am Tak’erak, and my fellow grungs here, Captain Brack,” gesturing to the orange grung to his right, “and Master Soong,” gesturing to the red grung on his left, “are here to realize your true potential. Obviously you all are very qualified to bring in the work that you have. Soong and Brack will explain to you their castes so that you can make an informed decision.”

Soong explains that the red caste is in charge of the arcane, dealing with various magicks and the like. Brack tells the group that the orange grungs not only protect the Weigh-Ins, but are the militia should any of the lower groups revolt.

Tak’erak gestures to the assembled grungs and says, “There you have it, you may choose, otherwise a caste will be chosen for you.”

The three blue grungs instantly request orange, while Thespin, Oa, Sunflower, and Riker each pick various colors (tbh I don’t remember who chose what because it isn’t important after what happens next).

Ramen and Debbie haven’t chosen, and when Tak’erak sees this, asks, “Are the two of you wanting us to choose for you? We can conduct a short assessment to see which would be the best fit.”

Both Ramen and Debbie find this agreeable. Ramen goes first.

Brack approaches Ramen and asks: “Would you rather lose a battle but have no casualties, or win and have your forces be nearly destroyed?” Ramen answered the second.

Soong approaches Ramen and asks: “Which appeals to you more, knowledge or power?” Ramen answers power

Tak’erak approaches Ramen and asks simply: “What does it mean to rule?” (And now I don’t remember this word for word but I think his answer was along the lines of:) To be the strongest of all those around you

The three take a seat and inform Ramen that they believe the orange class would be the best fit for him, and he undergoes the ceremony

Finally, they come to Debbie and ask the same questions.

To the first she answers that she would rather lose and have no casualties, to the second she answers that power appeals to her more. And to the last question, she answers (again, paraphrasing to the best of my ability): to have unquestionable authority

Now as another aside, I would like to remind everyone that this ENTIRE interaction was improvised. Transformation room, grung leadership, the damn questions, all of it. So like if you take ANY issue at all with this making sense or being cohesive or whatever I don’t wanna hear it lol. Flying by the seat of your pants is terrifying and once you say something those vocal chords don’t unvibrate.

The council take a seat again, and Tak’erak clears his throat and says, “This is something that has not happened since I took over my predecessor’s position many years ago taking this very assessment, but I believe it is time for me to pass the torch. We are giving you my current position as Nangnang’s voice by proxy, the highest position that can be afforded a grung of our standing. No one else can bear this title,” he says the last part looking right at Debbie, his purple eyes unblinking as he finishes this sentence

Every grung in the room save Soong and Brack are stunned. The party is horrified at the prospect of having to spend any more time in this wretched plane of existence. The three (formerly) blue grungs are furious that this grung they have never met has just taken something they didn’t even know was a choice and that their one opportunity to bring this whole caste system crashing to the ground seems to be quickly fading

Tak’erak does not take in any of this however, as he requests all of the assembled grungs to give him a moment with Debbie (who had a different grung name, I just can’t remember it). Once the doors close behind the grungs though, (and Debbie’s player and I walked where the rest of the party couldn’t hear) Tak’erak turns to face Debbie and says simply, “You can drop the disguise Princess Debdelaena”

I’m pretty sure Debbie’s player squeaked. But Tak’erak continued, “No? I can always drop them for us.” And when Tak’erak waves his hand, Debbie’s grung form disappears, along with Tak’erak’s. And standing in the room before a very half-elf Debbie is Frulam Mondath.

Now you may be asking yourself, who the hell is that? It’s been like a million years since we’ve even read that name it’s taken so goddamn long for you to tell this stupid frog story. Well, my rude obnoxious reader with a terrible memory, Frulam Mondath is the lady Sunflower witnessed disappearing through a portal in the temple devoted to Tiamat’s black dragon head

Frulam blows right past Debbie’s gobstamped (at this point I don’t even wanna know what the real word is) expression, and tells her that Nangnang isn’t here. She was looking for her as well, but for the months that she has spent ingraining herself in this society of frogs, Nangnang has not once been here.

She also tells Debbie that despite the fact that she knows Bahamut is trying to stop her, she doesn’t see Debbie or the others as enemies. She tells her that as long as she and the party stay out of her way, she doesn’t need to have anything to do with them. She even offers Debbie this world to rule now that her chance at royalty in Thultanthar is impossible. Her offer to be a purple grung and rule Niik still stands.

After all of this, Frulam waves her hand again and their two grung forms return, this time both of them purple. When the doors open again, Debbie fervently gestures the party over and explains what she was just told. While this is happening however, Tak’erak, quietly slips away.

When the party realizes what has happened, the dash through the castle to the hanger where they see two spiders missing, one of which was just starting to descend with the orange grungs on it.

The party rush into the hanger and Debbie, now a purple grung and in charge, grabs an orange guard and orders him to have all the grungs assemble at the base of the mountain, wanting to make an announcement. Then she runs after the party who all descend down to the ground.

On the ground, Thespin works with the guard to get as many grungs as they can to the mountain for the speech, Oa and Ramen look around furiously for Tak’erak but cannot find him anywhere. Also, the bears are still on the dais, but the minecart has disappeared and the orange grungs are nowhere to be seen.

In the throng of grungs making their way to the mountain, Sunflower spots Taka and scoops him up onto her shoulders and everyone makes their way to where Debbie has set herself up on a rock to be fully visible to everyone.

When all the grungs have arrived, the party is still looking around for Tak’erak, but still see nothing as Debbie begins her speech:

“As you may know by now, I am your new ruler. And as your ruler I want to make a very important announcement that all of you deserve to know: Nangnang, your god, is dead.”

Almost as if timed by a very dramatic DM, there is an absolutely massive explosion.

Grungs run everywhere, not knowing where to go. Taka wriggles off of Sunflower’s shoulders and goes dashing for the mine. Riker and Ramen run after him as Sunflower runs, scoops up Debbie, and grabs Thespin and begins to run up the mountain. This mission is over.

Oa, seemingly unfazed by the events around him, just takes a seat at the base of a tree. Ea (who I definitely never forgot about), walks up to him, sighs, and just says, “You guys should probably get out of here. I’ll stay and run damage control as best I can. But y’all’s job here is done unfortunately.”

Oa kind of shrugs his shoulders and begins walking up the mountain.

Meanwhile, Taka bolted into the mine, dodging the grungs running everywhere, trying to figure out what made that explosion and what needs to be done to fix the damage. Riker and Ramen have a harder time getting through, and when they finally make it into the mine, Taka is a good deal in front of them.

He darts into a tunnel, and when the two pursuers reach that tunnel, they realize it’s the closed off tunnel where Taka had his accident. The two of them have to clear some of the rubble away, being bigger than grung sized. When they do, they run after the little grung who is now almost at the end of this tunnel.

As they do, they almost trip over something, which on closer inspection, is the shriveled up body of a dead grung. And this grung is wearing a cloak and underclothes identical to the Taka who has now turned to face Riker and Ramen, and they realize this is Taka. Or at least it was.

And they know this for certain when they see the figure at the end of the tunnel begin to transform as they shout a single word: “Nikek!” And as white flames begin to lick up the body of this changing form, they realize the Taka they knew is becoming a woman with dark purple robes, jet black hair, and purple eyes. Taka is Frulam.

Right as Frulam is about to disappear, Riker charges after her and the two of them disappear in a bright light, leaving only a rune that Ramen recognizes as the same rune they used to bring them here.

Ramen drops to his knees, his world shattered. And he probably would have remained that way for a good bit longer, were it not for the fact that the rune began glowing again. But it wasn’t taking anyone away this time. It was bringing something back.

That something was a giant wave of water that nearly washed Ramen out of the tunnel, and in this water was a giant orange shark, which snapped at Ramen until the water settles and the shark flops helplessly until it cannot anymore. And Ramen cries.

Ramen and Oa march back up the hill together, and when the party is together again, they say the command word to bring them back to Bahamut: “Nogoorsa.”

So now we’re all caught up! This post alone literally took me uhhhh 3 hours to write, but now y’all know what your favorite characters have been up to. We’ll be starting back up again very, very soon, so stay tuned for the recap of our first session back! Till then, I’ve got a few more posts planned. Ciao for now!

P.S. Thanks to my handy dandy queue schedule, I know this will post on my birthday!! Now if a police officer busts down our door while we’re drinking and playing D&D all he can do is say “fucking nerds” and go away instead of arresting me!

#5e #d&d #tabletop gaming #dm #pc: sunflower #pc: thespin creede #pc: princess debdelaena #pc: oa #pc: william t riker #pc: ramen #npc: frulam mondath #deity: nangnang #npc: ea

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bffhreprise · 6 years ago

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Entry 237

As Cosette carried me, James' continued describing the rooms as we passed them. Many of the rooms only received a brief description, though a few were opened to show me. Cosette playfully tickled my belly while I swung my paws around her fingers, but I felt distracted by the fantastic scents of food being prepared.

“A large number of these rooms aren't really used frequently, at least to my knowledge. Considering that I'm continually finding out about new hidden doors, someone might be ducking into another secret lab for all I know.” he explained, seeming to be waiting for response.

None came.

I started to wonder if he was wanting me to respond, despite my current form. I might be able to. Mom could manage, but she always said it took her considerable concentration.

As I tried to picture different things I might say, I wasn't happy with any of them. I would likely know if someone opened a door on the opposite side of the mansion, so I was fairly certain no secret passages were being opened. The idea of them was really cool, but the statement was more of a confirmation than a surprise. A mansion filled with magic without secret doors would be far more surprising.

I could smell such wonderful things right now. Meat, cheeses, pasta, potatoes, some sort of sauce, and a great many spices were calling to me. I could hear the man dancing around the kitchen as some wizard working his magic. His heartbeat was steady as his body moved between pans, bowls, or other such metallic implements. There was something glass as well. What I did in Ancient Tribes of Earth, this man did in the real world.

James was continuing his tour, and I did pay attention. I simply wasn't paying as much attention as I could have if not for the sounds and smells from the kitchen. I could basically taste the delicious food, and my imagination couldn't help providing imagery, though there were smells I couldn't picture as well.

As Cosette finally stepped into the magical room, I wished I could will her to stop. I wasn't mentally prepared to meet someone. What if he didn't like me, or asked James to send me away? What if a glance was enough to tell him of the monster entering his domain? A small eternity passed as I panicked, reminding myself that I couldn't run away. I didn't want to risk hurting Cossette. I needed somewhere to belong.

“Ah! James! I am just a fixing the dinner. Ravioli di spinaci e ricotta con burro e salvia for the pasta, and then black angus cooked just a right. I felt tonight we needed a taste of home. There will also be potatoes, which I using a recipe I got in northern Italy from this woman… bellissimo. Is magnifico. There is also meringue, though this recipe is from French girl I met in Prague. Perhaps you will approve, Cosette? Is French.”

The man speaking was considerably shorter than James, certainly older, and wore a large smile that fit his chef's outfit well. His happiness is reflected in his bright, brown eyes when he had looked over at Cossette. My inner panic grew when his eyes started lowering down to me.

“Of course. I’ve been delighted by everything you’ve made.” she assured him.

Looking concerned, he asked “Is that a new pet? I can’t say I prepared anything for il gatto, since I did not a know.”

His concern reaffirmed all my fears, making the urge to flee grow and grow. Then his concern magically had become embarrassment instead. What sort of chef even makes food for cats? Was this normal?

“Oh. No-no. Marco, this is the newest member of Best Friend For Hire, Raine. She’s a werecat, and Cosette had wanted to see her cat form.” explained James.

“Ah! This is good then, assuming she like a what I fix…?” inquired Marco as he looked to James.

James nodded and said, “I have no doubt. Hopefully, you’ll get to meet her as a girl for dinner, so you’ll know I’m not crazy.”

With a wave of his hand, this wizard-chef brushed aside James’ fears and said, “I see wonders daily here, so you speak and I believe.” His heartbeat remain steady, and the dilation of his eyes didn't change. There wasn't even a quiver in his smile. Marco was a very honest man who trusted James completely.

“If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to finish giving Raine here the tour.” replied James, smiling again. This smile lacked sincerity, as if James had his own inner demons to fight as well.

If he did, he would win. I could tell James was that sort. Even the princess trusted him enough to work for him.

“You’re the boss. If you have time, dinner will be ready in… twenty minutes. I’ll send a notice.” replied Marco.

“A quick tour for now then.” agreed James, his smile becoming real again.

We left the kitchen, and my anxiety was on the rise. James briefly spoke of the rooms we passed, not even slowing his step by them. We were hurrying to a room filled with people, some human and some not. There was excitement in this room where people played Ancient Tribes of Earth, and I couldn't fault anyone for finding excitement in the game. I knew Alma was there as well, and I held no excitement for seeing her again.

What if she had already turned the others against me? James couldn't defend me if so many of his friends saw me for the monster I am. I would need to leave, alone once more in this world. They might even try to stop me, knowing a monster shouldn't be allowed to roam free. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I'd have to carefully escape from Cosette's hold, hurry to grab my things, and leave while they wondered where I went. But where could I go next?

Numerous eyes turn to us as we entered the room. Thankfully, they were mostly on James. One beautiful girl was completely white from hair to bare toe. Her eyes possessed the palest blue I had ever seen, and I saw a great many colors in eyes. I was certain that her scent was one of the ones I didn't know.

“James, why is that one out of her clothes again?” asked Alma.

“Why would clothing matter when she’s a cat?” countered Cosette, not tensing at all despite arguing with the angry girl.

Sounding surprisingly calm, Alma said, “A girl undressing in front of James always matters. We can’t allow ourselves to act like animals, even if such behavior is in our nature.”

“She shrinks into them, really.” stated James as if he were making a joke.

Cosette glanced at James before looking back to Alma and saying, “If you must know, I asked Raine to change out of curiosity, and I feel she makes a most adorable cat.”

“I already have Alberich, so I don’t need another cat.” replied Alma with false calm.

I could see the slight tension in her fingers as she continued playing the game. The interface in this room was interesting. There seemed to be some laser-guided tracking system over a keyboard and mouse projection. I didn't know such a thing could be implemented well enough for gaming yet.

A girl with blonde hair dyed in numerous colors jumped out of her seat while saying, “But she’s so adorable! Why didn’t you tell me she’s this cute?” She bent down and peered into my eyes as I reflexively attempted to back up. She smelled of plants, as if she had rolled around in grass and other things, though that was impossible during winter.

The extraordinarily white girl and a pretty, redhead girl approached me as well. I couldn't quite squeeze under Cosette's arm to back up more, at least not without hurting her.

“Aww.. can I pet her?” questioned the redhead.

“Such a pretty kitty!” exclaimed the other one.

If I was in my human form, I might be blushing. As things were, I just felt confused. Alma had clearly said something about me, probably when I was in that office and couldn't hear properly. Yet these girls appeared friendly, without any visible sign of deceit. The white girl lacked a heartbeat, but wasn't a vampire. What was she? Her scent was similar to my own, but not the kitty part of me. Was she a monster too? She didn't seem dangerous, but most people wouldn't think I am dangerous. I could feel something inside her calling to me.

“She’s a bit shy.” stated James. After briefly looking at me, he amended his statement. “Okay, she’s more than a bit shy, so some space would be nice. Does anyone have cat allergies? I just realized that may be an issue. Do werecats produce allergens?”

“Yes, they do.” replied Alma.

James waited for further response. Receiving none, he announced “Marco said dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. I suppose that was a few minutes ago though, so seventeen-ish.” Then he went on to say, “At any rate, I was giving Raine here the tour and felt she should see how we like to game, since she’s in our guild.”

“She plays Ancient Tribes of Earth?” asked Jarod, looking intrigued.

“Yes, she’s Nekopawpaw.” explained James.

The girl with the multicolored hair appeared excited and surprised. “You! I’m your general! This is so cool! You need to log in ASAP. People have been worried about you, since you haven’t been on lately.”

General Toxi!? Toxi was nice. She could be overly affectionate, but she was always kind. When I was low on supplies for guild commissions, she would always volunteer to appropriate some from the guild’s storage. She’d also act as an intermediary between me and other guild members.

Her hands approached me, and I wondered if being held by her would be like lazing in the grass on a summer day. I could easily picture her growing flowers and fruit from her hair with how natural the scents were. There was the smell of fresh tomatoes and herbs. Had she been helping in the kitchen? Maybe there was a greenhouse she had visited.

Instead of petting me, she lifted me away from Cosette. I frantically released my claws from Cosette's clothing, not wanting to tear anything. The redhead and white girl reached toward us, but General Toxi ignored them, carrying me to her seat where she placed me on her lap.

General Toxi announce in game that I was with her in person. I could hardly believe the reaction. Hundreds of messages appeared. Some more greeting me. Others were claiming to have missed me. Then there were some saying they wished they could be here to see me as well. I didn't really feel as if I interacted with any of them enough to warrant this display, but here it was.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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prussiantique · 7 years ago

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Roman Caprices – Notes

References galore!– and into realms I hitherto had rarely travelled before: memes, movies, even video-games, intermixed into my usual hodgepodge of literature, classics and histories. And if I do make a mistake, then please be gentle in the comments. Consider this following part just me showing that I've done my work. I’ll only go into the references because I never think that interpretation,– of the poem as a whole, of the content, of the ideas, etc.,– is the job of the person writing the poem. That’s really up to the reader. Section I opens with a paraphrasing of Romans 3.13 (yes, that is a Bible reference and matching the form of the poem, i.e. a section of 3 lines followed by a section of 13), before moving on to a “Go home, you’re drunk!” reference. The first line also sounds awfully like a 60s film I saw years ago. Let me think. Oh yeah: ‘A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum’. The old women snipping at twine refers to Atropos, of the Fates, who cut the thread of life with a pair of scissors. Sweet white wine was also considered by the Romans as the highest form of wine, quite the opposite of what most people (not me, because I don’t drink and don’t know good from bad, haha) think today. ‘For reasons unknown’ also sounds very familiar to something Beckett wrote in Waiting For Godot. Section II has the Sicilian gesture, essentially saying that his friend would ‘sleep with the fishes’. How about the ‘offer they could not refuse’? Obvious movie quote is obvious. Pollice Verso or ‘with turned thumbs’ is the gesture most closely associated with gladiatorial combat, but ‘two thumbs down’ is also a reference to Siskel and Ebert, the great movie critics. Gallia Transalpine (Southern France) and Gallia Cisalpine (Northern Italy) were both Roman provinces; essentially the friend is saying that he’s Italian and not from further afield. Naumachiae were massive staged naval battles the Romans watched for sport in basins larger than the Coliseum. They’d row out proper sized vessels and have the crews sort of massacre each other. Romans, eh? Section III’s strange man is a reference to Diogenes of Sinope, the famous Greek Cynic (who lived centuries before the setting of the poem, but meh! This could all be going on in the speaker’s head so what does it matter?). ‘Taken a pilum to the knee’ should be familiar to video-gamers amongst you. Skyrim anyone? Lusitania was what we now call Portugal. Section IV initially plays with the exotic imagery of Coleridge’s Kubla Khan, but couched in the vernacular of the stereotypical street hawker that one expects in the market of a foreign country. 30 denarii coincidently (or not) is the same price that Judas sold Christ to the Romans for. The idea of ages, (golden), silver, bronze and iron, is from Hesiod, the Greek poet, from his Work and Days, which outline the mythical ages of mankind. The brutish genius is none other than Ezra Pound, who settled in Italy in 1924 and whose poem Homage to Sextus Propertius provides the final line of the section. Section V has the clean-shaven man from Lutetia, the Roman settlement of modern day Paris, so a stereotypical rude Parisian joke. And folks, that’s what you call comedy! Haha, no. There follows a reference to Aristotle’s poetics, i.e. ‘riddles and barbarisms’, which drops into the very modern ‘this is why we can’t have nice things’ reference. Crates is another Greek Cynic. Also, one to come and one to go? That sounds like Hatta and Haigha fron Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through The Looking Glass. Section VI opens with an interesting observation on the Latin alphabet we all know and use. The letters G, J, U, W, Y and Z were not originally a part of the Latin alphabet, with G being introduced in the 3rd Century BC and Y and Z after the conquest of Greece in the 1st Century BC. J was a later development of I and is absent from earlier texts, and the same can be said of U and W, which developed from V (or VV in the latter case). Thus Julius Gaius Caesar would be written thus in classical Latin: IVLIVS GAIVS CÆSAR. ‘Proud distensions of empire’ is another line from Homage to Sextus Propertius.

Section VII is probably one of the most *ahem* adult (not mature) passages I’ve ever written. What more do you want me to say? Moving along, bastard-wine refers to either mulsum or posca, which were both low styles of wine. Why bastard? Well, both mulsum and posca were mixtures of wine, either white or red, with honey or flavouring herbs. Iove is Jove, as we’ve established with the alphabet. Romans are also fond of contractions, you know, primarily as it was a pain to hammer long names onto tablets and buildings. Caesar Imperator Augustus becomes Cae. Imp. Aug. respectively. How is this relevant? Well, Maximus Imperator Augustus must be either a pitiful attempt at nominatively compensating for something or merely the product of an overly inflated ego. Add the contraction and well... Do I really need to explain the joke? Section VIII has relatively fewer references, I think, compared to the rest of the poem, but that’s not really saying much. Playing on the idea of Teutonic, the marches new and old refer to Neumark and Altmark, both provinces within the Margraviate of Brandenburg. Conflating wealth and stupid material things seems to be a problem with contemporary society in general. Or it might just be mainland China. Meh. The strange eidolon (let’s see how many of you know what that means without a dictionary!) echoes Yeats’ Second Coming, specifically the rough beast that ‘slouches towards Bethlehem to be born’. Section IX starts off with the castrum, or fortified camp, which the Romans had all over the place, especially if the Astérix comics are to be believed. The border inferior refers to the border of the Roman province of Germania Inferior, which was one of two Germanic territories, the other being Germania Superior, that the Romans owned outside of Magna Germania. Another obvious video-game reference follows: ‘Thank you, said he, but our praetor is in another castrum’ = ‘Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!’. The lines beginning ‘With veneer’ to ‘lost’ echo Shelley’s Ozymandias. Theoretically the subverted final line of the section is as true as the line it subverts. If all roads lead to Rome, they must simultaneously lead from Rome. Section X actually mixes three references together, two from films, one literary. Remember Goodfellas? Joe Pesci’s speech about being funny, except reordering the lines and replacing the word ‘funny’ with the Latinate word ‘comic’. ‘I had choice words with another’ seems to be the spiritual successor of the Duke in Browning’s My Last Duchess. As to the last reference? Well, you tell me: ‘a dread judge’ that exclaims ‘I am the law!’. Sylvester Stallone says hi. Piso was a Roman judge who was famous for his extremely harsh execution of the law. ‘Fiat justitia ruat caelum’ or ‘Let justice be done though the heavens fall’ is the phrase most associated with his brand of justice. Section XI plays off the name Piso (I have no idea if the ‘i’ therein is treated long but I’m going to pretend that it is) and turns it simply into ‘pissed’. Continuing the Roman trick of abbreviation, the speaker is thus pissed on (probably not literally) and pissed off. I do apologize; writing that out in full leave me feeling dirty, I must confess. C. f. is part of Roman naming convention (and again a set of abbreviations). The ‘f’ stands for filia, or daughter, with ‘C’ being the name of the father. As daughters tended to be named after their fathers in the Roman Empire, it’s not much of a stretch to guess what the lady’s name is in this poem (especially if you know me, that is). ‘Canis femineus’ means, I think, female dog. No prizes to anyone who can guess what the speaker is calling her. Section XII is fairly straightforward, I think. Stolidus is an adjective, but as it refers to the baker, it essentially means ‘idiot’, literally ‘stupid [one]’. Amphorae were Greco-Roman containers used for storage and transportation, primarily for wine. As to the penultimate line of the section…I am not going to try to explain where ‘I got 99 problems’ came from. Section XIII is very much what you see is what you get.

#notes #modernism #dramatic monologue #classicism #historical #roman empire #tragicomedia #free verse

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zrtranscripts · 7 years ago

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Season 6, Mission 25: 76 Trombones

Give an inch, take a mile

SAM YAO: Oh, come on, come on! Where is he? [sighs] It's too dark for my cams to pick anything up, even with all the flaming torches. Peter, what can you see?

PETER LYNNE: A window. The window of the gents toilets of Muddleton corn exchange. I'm using state-of-the-art infrared goggles to stare at a loo.

SAM YAO: But is there anyone coming out the window?

PETER LYNNE: [gasps] ... no.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: We have time. The market square is crowded, which will make our escape easier. And Muddleton has only just gone over to Ministry control. Not everyone here will be loyalists. We do not need to fear each pair of eyes in a busy crowd like this.

SAM YAO: Clever of you to get the Laundry to arrange a midnight fair to celebrate the gift of the cure.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: Sigrid was delighted with the tribute to her. If the woman has one fault, it's vanity.

SAM YAO: Mm, yeah, I think she probably has more than one fault.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: But vanity is the useful one. There are very few guards at this fair.

PETER LYNNE: And we're here to rescue a... trombonist? There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear myself saying.

SAM YAO: Yeah, it's not really about him. It's his wife, Dr. Kitsnis. Okay, listen. This is a bit complicated. Dr. Kitsnis used to work for Sigrid, but then she fled to Muddleton to be safe, right?

PETER LYNNE: With you.

SAM YAO: Before Muddleton went Ministry, Dr. Kitsnis was in Abel working with Veronica on an updated vaccine for that flu, Junin 2. It keeps coming back every year, and although it's not deadly anymore, it's good to keep the vaccine up to date.

Anyway, now Muddleton's gone Ministry, Sigrid wants to get Kitsnis back, but Kitsnis wants to defect to Abel. She has key information for us about weaknesses in Sigrid's staff, which we could really do with to try and give us some kind of advantage, but Kitsnis won't stay or tell us anything unless we get her husband out, too.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: They've been married 20 years, apparently. Still devoted.

PETER LYNNE: Yes, yes, it's all very heart-warming. Meanwhile, muggins here is stuck staring at the grimy window of a public bog while – no, wait. I can see a leg. He's climbing out.

SAM YAO: Five, that's your cue. You need to give him his border pass before he's spotted. Get across that square now. Run!

PETER LYNNE: Excuse me. If you could just – ah, sorry! Just, uh, just slipping through here.

SAM YAO: Kefilwe, do you think it's possible your plan might have created too much of a crowd? Like, so much of a crowd to hide you rescuing Jim, you can't actually reach him to rescue him?

PETER LYNNE: We're nearly there, Sam. Just need to get past this inexplicably popular corn dolly stall.

SAM YAO: You're out of time! Cams are showing me two guards coming around the left-hand side of the corn hall with torches. They're seconds away from spotting him. Quick, distract them! Uh, start a fight or something!

PETER LYNNE: Oi, mate! Yeah, you! Your nose is wonky, and your T-shirt's clashing with your eyes.

TOTAL STRANGER: I beg your pardon?

SAM YAO: I meant pick a fight with each other, not total strangers!

KEFILWE LOBATSE: How dare you be so rude, young man! [slaps PETER LYNNE]

SAM YAO: That's better.

PETER LYNNE: She slapped me!

SAM YAO: It's working! Two guards are looking over. Five, you do it!

[Runner Five slaps PETER LYNNE]

PETER LYNNE: [gasps] Et tu, Five?

SAM YAO: Great! The guards are both coming towards you. Jim's in the car. He's safe.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: But the guards are walking towards us.

SAM YAO: Uh, yeah. You'd better make yourselves scarce. Bloody hell, it was only a few weeks ago that Muddleton was safe passage for us. No more, eh?

PETER LYNNE: Yes. Janine's having to work out alternate travel routes for us every day as more settlements go Ministry.

SAM YAO: Uh, yeah, weird routes are the order of the day. The car will have to go around the one-way system. If you head left under the railway bridge, you can catch up with the car by the roundabout and give Jim his travel papers. Run.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: I believe that is the car, the red Honda Civic. There appears to be someone else in the car along with our man and the driver. Can you see her, Five, lying on the back seat?

PETER LYNNE: He's seen us. The car's stopping.

[car engine rumbles and comes to a stop, KEFILWE LOBATSE knocks on car window, window rolls down]

JIM: Thank God. I wasn't sure you'd be here. You've got the travel papers?

KEFILWE LOBATSE: We have the papers, yes.

JIM: I... don't suppose you've got a spare set?

PETER LYNNE: For that person lying on the back seat, pretending to be a coat?

JIM: Yes, exactly.

SAM YAO: Jim, who is the person lying on the back seat, pretending to be a coat?

JIM: That's Catherine. She's a second violin. It's just, she heard me talking about the plan, and now she's invited herself along, and it's not like I can say no, is it? Anyway, Abel wants as many people to join them as possible. That's what they said in one of those radio broadcasts, the northern chap and that sarcastic woman [?].

PETER LYNNE: Yes, we're really crying out for violin players at the moment.

SAM YAO: All right, listen. There are zombies approaching from the west. Peter, you lead them away. Five, you and Lobatse go east towards those potato fields. There's a guard station there that deals with passes. With any luck, they'll have a couple lying around.

You don't need anything high security. I don't think a trombonist and a violin player are likely to be on any Most Wanted list. No offense, guys. Jim, a new car's being brought for you and - ?

JIM: Catherine.

CATHERINE: Hi!

SAM YAO: Yes, right. Catherine. Switching vehicles ought to make you harder to track. Look out for a blue Ford people carrier. Climb in as soon as you see it, and wait for the others to come back.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: Come along, Five. Let's go.

[crickets chirp]

KEFILWE LOBATSE: It's a beautiful night, isn't it, Five? The moon's so bright, you can see every cloud racing across the sky. Perhaps there will be a storm later.

Do you think that woman is Jim's lover? I think she probably is. The way she looked at him. And he blushed when he said her name, did you see, Five? I suppose he sees very little of his wife, with them so often apart, and these things... well, [laughs] they happen.

I think this is something his wife should know, don't you? But I suppose it's too late now, and we can hardly refuse to rescue him just because he's unfaithful. Ah, there is the guard station, and a young man in uniform guarding it. Good. I'll distract him, Five, while you creep into the station and pick up a new set of papers for us. Quickly, go!

[foliage rustles]

KEFILWE LOBATSE: [laughs] What a rogue you are. I knew it the moment I saw that twinkle in your eye.

SAM YAO: Wow. She is frighteningly good at that. [KEFILWE LOBATSE and GUARD laugh] The little lean in, the way she keeps touching his arm, the eye contact. She looks so sincere! Imagine what it's like when she actually means it. Oh, lucky old Steve. Anyway, give her a quick wave from behind the bush, Five. Let her know she can stop flirting now.

[foliage rustles]

KEFILWE LOBATSE: Well... alas, I must leave now, Jonathan. I hope we shall meet again. [kisses GUARD]

Five, do you have the pass? [paper rustles] Oh good, you took several. Very thoughtful. They could be most useful for the resistance.

SAM YAO: Or for you, Kefilwe? You could use one to come back to us.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: We've had this conversation before, Sam. There's no need to repeat it.

SAM YAO: No, no. No, of course. I know you want to stay where you can do the most good. Only with -

KEFILWE LOBATSE: Sam.

SAM YAO: Right. Of course. Well, anyway, Peter's drawn the zoms off and headed back to the car where Jim – [sighs]

KEFILWE LOBATSE: What is it, Sam?

SAM YAO: Oh, for God's sake. Oh, no, don't worry. Just get back to the [lay by] where the car's parked, quickly.

PETER LYNNE: Hey! Welcome to the party! I think party's the right word for five people, isn't it, gang? Unexpected collection of musicians we can't possibly smuggle over the border?

KEFILWE LOBATSE: There are three more people.

MUSICIANS: Hello.

JIM: Sorry! It's just they were in the, um, room when me and Catherine were talking about the escape, and they decided to come, too.

SAM YAO: [sighs] This is ridiculous.

PETER LYNNE: On the plus side, now they can give us a rendition of Schubert's Trout Quintet when they get back to Abel.

JIM: Actually, one of them's a percussionist. And Sandra plays the euphonium.

KEFILWE LOBATSE: Fortunate that Five took more passes, I suppose.

JIM: So... it's all right? They can come?

SAM YAO: Well, I suppose so. We can hardly send them back now without everyone noticing.

JIM: Good! Because... um... I might have mentioned it to a few other members of the orchestra when we were... relaxing together. [orchestral sounds] Listen! I think that's them heading our way now.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, for the love of God! [zombies growl] And now zombies, too! Why don't we take them over the border with us, while we're at it? Maybe they could fill out the brass section. They do tend to produce quite a lot of spit!

[device beeps]

JIM: Oh, what's that?

SAM YAO: It's a message from the Laundry via Jody's transmitter. The Ministry has noticed you're missing. I mean, they could hardly not notice! You brought the whole bloody orchestra with you!

JIM: I suppose it's too late to go back.

PETER LYNNE: Is it too late? Only if you all don't really want to get shot.

JIM: So how are we going to get away?

PETER LYNNE: And get away from all those zombies?

KEFILWE LOBATSE: We need a plan now.

#zombies run #zrs6 #s6m25 #76 trombones #zr transcript #zrs6 spoilers

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saskiavalentineapologist · 8 years ago

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Raz made his way down through the web of ropes that made up the rigging, eventually making it down to the bottom. A familiar face was waiting for him, one hand extended for him to take. “Come on, Raz,” Tisiri prompted, her deep voice gentle as always. “You’ve done good, now let’s get you below deck before the fighting starts.” Tisiri was well over six feet in height, and was muscular and strong, with arms the size of Raz’s legs. Her face was a mix of the two different ethnic groups native to the Pale Island; the beige skinned, round featured northerners and the golden brown southerners with sharp features. She was a burnished gold color—lighter than both him and Sedira—with inquisitive dark eyes and a hooked nose above firm set lips. One of her cheeks was colored with a dark birthmark that stretched from her jaw almost to her brow. Her hair was long, dark, and wavy, held back by a red bandana that matched the one Sedira wore, exposing her frill. Many people who had some sort of beast blood had visible characteristics that proved that they weren’t entirely human. Tisiri was no different, though hers was caused by something a bit more than beast blood. Her neck had a frill stretching from behind both ears and attaching down near her chin. The frill itself usually sat flat against her neck, but when she wanted to she could flare it out for intimidation purposes. Sedira was the captain of the ship, and Tisiri was the quartermaster. She was the one who enforced the rules that Sedira set, as well as being Sedira’s equal in every decision. “Mom,” he started, but the look in her eyes made him stop. Tisiri was the opposite to Sedira in almost every way. She was the patience to Sedira’s fury, the caution to Sedira’s recklessness, the calm to Sedira’s storm. Sedira jokingly credited her with keeping them all alive and safe, which Tisiri just noted to with a knowing smile. If there was any possibility that Raz could get hurt, Tisiri’s instincts kicked in and she kept him out of harm’s way by whatever means necessary. She was strict about Raz swearing, about where he could go when they docked, along with other things along those lines.

“Who would even go after Sedira to begin with?” Sedira, Raz thought with a start. Raz looked up to the helm, to where Sedira was leaning heavily on the wheel, her chest heaving with breaths of disbelief. “Mom,” he said, looking back at Tisiri. “Can you find Vylas? I think Ma needs a break.” Tisiri’s gaze flicked up to Sedira, and she nodded. “Go up there. Keep her talking until I get Vylas.” Raz nodded and took the stairs up to the helm, to where Sedira was starting to laugh in relief.

When Raz had realized he was a boy, they had grown somewhat…Raz wasn’t sure what owed he was looking for. They had changed. Tisiri had gone through a similar change herself, so she gave him advice the best she could and listened to him when he needed. She tried her best and loved him fiercely, but she was always far too strict with him, and that had only worsened when he realized he was a boy. Raz knew she just wanted to protect him from what was out there, but sometimes she took that desire to protect him a bit too far and ended up smothering him.

“I think I fucked up,” Sedira said quietly. Raz heard footsteps approaching, then a serious and familiar voice called out, “what, did you not get as much as you wanted?” Next to Raz, Rilari bristled. “Tisiri,” Sedira protested weakly. Raz turned in his seat to see Tisiri looking beyond angry as she plopped down on the bed, the only space left to sit. Her frill was half up and her eyes were narrowed. Raz was glad that anger wasn’t directed at him, and pitied Sedira for being on the receiving end. The whole crew had heard their argument when they had come out from Sedira’s quarters soon after vanishing inside with the two strangers. Tisiri had berated Sedira for not going after a slaver ship out of sheer principle, and Sedira had replied that they couldn’t afford to risk lives for little to no reward. Everyone tried to make themselves scarce whenever they fought, which wasn’t often. When they did have a spat, though, it was usually very serious. “Oh, it’s just a slaver ship, Tisiri; they probably don’t have enough money to make it worthwhile, Tisiri; it’s not worth it, Tisiri,” she mocked, her voice pitched higher in an imitation of Sedira. Sedira looked up at Tisiri, eyes tired and face solemn. “I took them on,” she said wearily. “They’ll sail out with us tomorrow, for far less than I had originally wanted.” Sedira sighed. “That’s not what’s bothering me.” Tisiri nodded, looking at her with suspicion, but far calmer than she had been. Her ears were tilted forward in concern. “What’s wrong? You look rough.” “Did I ever tell you all about my sister?” At the nods she received, she continued. “Well, after giving birth to her first child, we had a falling out. She didn’t like my lifestyle, she didn’t like my occupation, she didn’t want any contact with me. I kept tabs on her even after our dispute, though. Just in case. A Stormblade protects their own.” She paused for a moment. “She had a ridiculous number of kids—six or seven, I think—and the youngest was named Faera. I think that Faera is the same one who just chartered my ship. And-“ “I have cousins?” Raz interrupted. “Yeah. I don’t know what happened to most of them after my sister died, but if I’m right you’ll meet one of them in the morning. Raz sat back in his chair thoughtfully. “That’s not it!” Sedira laughed. “Oh! That’s not what’s bothering me! The person with her, the lanky blond haired fellow? One of the Witch Queen’s most wanted. Kelren Silverbane.” Tisiri whistled low. “I didn’t notice that.” “The Queen has a whirlwind temper, and if she finds out we took him on?” Sedira made a slitting motion across her throat, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t want to deal with that.” “Like she even knows our ship exists,” Tisiri scoffed. “Mezzon’s mostly landlocked. The only port city is Alento, and we hardly ever dock there.” “You’re right, but I would rather not be detained for harboring a known fugitive.” “What’d they want you to do?” Rilari asked. “Intercept a slaver ship and take them to the Pale Island.” “Oh, we’re headed there anyway,” Raz said. “Yeah. If we weren’t or if they’d had a different destination, they would’ve been out of luck.” Tisiri scowled and Sedira made a point to not look at her. “I don’t run a charity ship. I am concerned about the safety of my family and my crew first and morals second.” She looked at Tisiri. “Besides. We’re going to see your mom. We can’t put that off again.” Tisiri nodded at that, but opened her mouth. “What slaver ship?” Raz asked before Tisiri said something snappy. “Lucky Lady?” Rilari guessed. Sedira shook her head. “Redwind.” Rilari made a face. “The Redwind’s a joke of a slaver ship.” “That’s the ship Faera told me about,” Sedira replied, shrugging. “It’s the only ship I know of that’s currently in port with red sails. The ship she wanted us to go after had red sails.” Tisiri pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did they ever say what they wanted off the Redwind?” “No, but I’m guessing that by the grace of the evil spirits the Redwind’s managed to capture someone. They probably want that person back.” Rilari had been silent since learning of their target, and she shook her head. “There isn’t enough to make attacking the Redwind worthwhile,” Rilari said, making both Raz and Sedira cringe. “Odds are, the only thing we’ll get are provisions and sailor’s wages.” Rilari paused. “And whatever slaves they’ve miraculously managed to capture.” There was a beat of silence; the calm before the storm, the moment before an accident, the slowed down second as danger is coming. Raz could see Tisiri fuming out of the corner of his eye and he braced himself. “That’s what I said,” Sedira replied, eyes darting to Tisiri. Ma! Raz wanted to say. Shut up! “Getting a slaver ship out of the picture isn’t worth it?” Tisiri snarled. “Preventing more people from being sucked into that market isn’t worth it? Saving families heartbreak isn’t worth it?” Rilari held up her hands in surrender. Everyone who had been onboard for five or six years or more knew where Tisiri’s hatred for slaving ships came from. Rilari was just on that cusp where she was new enough to not know all the details, but still seasoned enough to know the gist of it. It was personal for Tisiri. She had been on one of those ships when Sedira had found her and freed her. She had made it her goal in life to sink the slaving ship she was on one way or another. If she had it her way she would destroy any and all slaving ships they came across. The ship she had been on was called The Sea Witch, one of the more well known slaving ships. “You’re really taking them on, ‘Dira?” Tisiri asked, ignoring Rilari. “This isn’t some elaborate game you’re playing that in the end ‘oops, they missed the boat and we left!’” Sedira gestured to the coins the pair had presumably given her, spreading them further apart on the desk. “Forty for boarding the ship, five apiece for board and passage to the Pale Island.” “Sedira, that’s far lower than-“ “I know.” Sedira held up her hand, silencing Rilari’s train of thought. “I’m doing it because Faera’s my blood, and I’m doing it for Tisiri.” Sedira’s eyes went to Tisiri, and her gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Tizzy. I should’ve listened to you. I know how you feel about slaving ships and I ignored that in this situation. Next time something like this comes up I’ll make sure to consult you first.” Tisiri looked pleased, but she scowled. “You know I hate that nickname.” “I also know you secretly love the affection.”

Sedira paused. “Where is she, by the way?” “I don’t know, I lost her in the side streets.” Sedira laughed again. “That’s amazing. I can’t wait to give her shit—oops—uh, crap for it when she gets back.” Rilari raised her hand to shade her eyes as she looked at something behind them. “Here she comes,” she said. Raz turned so fast his neck popped to see Tisiri barreling towards him. He shrieked in an undignified manner and tried to run, but Tisiri picked him up in a bear hug. “You little rat!” Her voice was mostly joking. “I’m going to throw you over the side, I swear!”

He pushed that aside, looking now for Tisiri. She was nowhere to be seen, and his heart leapt in his throat until he realized she probably fought her way below deck. Of course, he thought. If there’s slaves on this ship that’ll be the first place she’ll go.

“Lets see what you two can do,” Tisiri said, clapping Faera on the back. Faera’s eyes widened. “Oh no, I can’t-“ People were starting to stare at her and her cheeks were starting to heat up. “Did I put you on the spot there? Sorry about that, here, let me go first.” Tisiri stepped forward and cracked her knuckles. She flicked her hands out and black flames sparked in her palms and licked up her arms, leaving her clothing intact. She snapped her left hand and the flames extinguished in that hand As Faera watched, Tisiri passed the flame from hand to hand, faster and faster until it was a continual blur of motion. She tossed the flame upwards and ignited her hands again, tossing those up and beginning to juggle her fire. From where he was lounging, Raz started clapping. Tisiri grinned at the praise and tossed the fire up, holding her hand out to keep it still. As they watched, the fire joined into one singular ball of flame. Tisiri pinched her forefinger and thumb of one hand and made a circular shape with her other hand. She drew the pinched fingers back and away, drawing the fire through the hole in her hand like one would draw a thread through the eye of a needle. She flicked her hand and immediately the fire lashed out, cracking the air like a whip before coming back to Tisiri like a trained dog. She turned to the two of them and smiled, drawing her fire to her hands and caging it in her hands. “I can’t do that,” Emira said immediately. “I had the best tutors money could buy,” Tisiri said. “I don’t expect you to have that control. What age did you learn to control your magic?”

Tisiri pursed her lips. “That’s-“ “Tisiri!” Sedira’s voice cut through the moment. “A word about our destination.” Tisiri’s head snapped up at the sound of her wife’s voice. She sighed, but she was smiling. “That woman. No sense of timing. I’ll be right back.”

Zara gave her a nod and a smile. “Excellent. Would any of you care to see a demonstration in Redirection?” Kelren’s mouth fell open and Tisiri looked so excited she might burst. Raz knew vaguely about Redirection magic. For starters, it wasn’t technically a magic at all, really a complex martial arts of sorts that—when done right—could enable its users to take what magic was aimed at them and change its course and redirect it. It was rare in the Kingdoms, considering it had originated in the Pale Island and was a closely guarded secret. Tisiri leapt up to her feet. “I’ve never seen a Redirection practitioner before,” she said, excitement evident in her voice. “I would love to see a demonstration!”

#daosa #the Tisiri compilation to match the Sedira compilation #roselyn's writing

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xinyixan · 3 years ago

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🌬

dearest windy city,

Today I depart from Chicago after 5 weeks of a whirlwind of 10k+ steps/days, trudging through every imaginable spectrum of bone-chilling rainstorms to sweltering hot summers, fanatic sprinting to catch trains and buses, arranging hangouts with newfound friends, and nursing my sore throat post one too many indulgently deep and thought provoking conversations while hopelessly losing track of time… and I feel so much joy and so much hope, I could almost stay… almost.

But I’m a neophiliac, and I’m drawn to change. Having been fortunate enough to travel as much as I have, I’ve come to accept that most cities are more or less the same — what makes them special and memorable are the people I meet. So here are just a few, in the order that I met them:

Lin, my sister creative chimera from Salt Lake City, who happened to be visiting Chi Town with her friend Sharon, was the first person I caught up with after my first week of solo exploration to familiarize myself with all the neighborhoods. Although Lin was only passing through, it was so comforting to feel as if I already knew someone else in the city. I’m forever grateful that meeting Lin, whom I regard as a nexus of friendship and connection, has enabled me to meet so many good people (one of whom I’ll mention below). @_linhuang / @linhuang.psd

Lisa was my first local friend and she introduced me to tapas at Boqueria! It was fun to connect with another digital illustrator and model who has an intense interest in travel (we both share the mindset that our our careers fund our vacations)! It’s been really fun stumbling upon Lisa’s collaborations with other photographers in the locale (via instagram) and feeding off her open-ness & willingness to make friends! @lisahzhu

I remember being keenly intrigued in meeting Arthur because of everyone I had met thus far, he appeared to be the most deeply involved in the fine arts. I had noticed that he had released a course on Domestika teaching Expressive Watercolor Portraits and instantly felt a respect for his dedication to his craft. After all, it is one thing to explore the arts as a hobby but another to have a developed styled and enough experience to design an entire course to share your skill. We met in Boystown and trekked for over an hour while swapping travel stories (such as his solo extended stay in Japan) and philosophies on creating art, making friends, and cultivating meaningful relationships. I was incredibly thankful that despite his packed schedule working as a full-time photographer, interior consultant, painter, and everything in-between, he invited me to Art Institute of Chicago where we continued our conversations as inspired by chronology of Monet’s works. @artybraud / @itsme.artyb / @artybphotography

Tou Ger graciously drove all the way down from the Northern suburbs to meet me for lunch in Wicker Park where we spent 3 hours bonding over as fellow entrepreneurial spirits. A professional dancer turned life coach, Tou Ger is radiantly optimistic but balanced with a practicality for the bigger picture of life. I’m naturally drawn to people with philanthropic ideals (probably because I’m constantly seeking for more compassion without myself) and Tou Ger no doubt fits this bill. @_tougerlee

Vishal and I first met downtown at Mojo Coffee (where I had a super delicious New Zealand style flat white) and I learned his story of how he turned his burn out from his first consulting job in India into inspiration to travel to Japan and Hong Kong solo. He moved to Chicago for his masters and just graduated as I was arriving to town. Between his job hunting grind, Vishal escaped with me for a mid-week serendipitous street photography shoot and another follow up coffee date at the largest Starbucks Reserve Roastery in the world. I was incredibly touched by his warmth and was so grateful that the timing worked out such that we could hang out as often we did. @vishalshriram

Jess was actually another friend I met through Lin (who had a birthday brunch at Bar Takito at which we were both invited)! A copyeditor by day but a writer/poet at heart, Jess started several passion projects over the course of the quarantine including an account to document her baking/cooking adventures as well as a tiktok to capture snippets of her everyday life in vlog format. I adore that she was immediately vulnerable with me in conversation and her emotional maturity/self awareness made me feel comfortable to readily open up to her in return. Our follow up hangout brought us to Hello Jasmine for some delicious Taiwanese street food which we devoured at Ping Tom park while walking barefoot (grounding) on the grass, listening to lo-fi, and journaling together like the big kids we were. I couldn’t have ask for a more wholesome picnic date! @jess.sung / @bohaeats / @marigoldthebun

Abhas was perhaps the only friend whom I had intended to meet up with prior to landing in Chicago. Every so often I try to reach out directly to people watching my instagram stories (via dm) as an attempt to break the social media disconnect that ironically arises from social platforms. I’m so please that I said ‘hi’ to Abhas because as soon as I realized that he was also a creative chimera who happened to live in Chicago (aka — someone whom I could have the opportunity to meet up with), I couldn’t contain my excitement. Just a gander through Abhas’s digital gallery will give you a sense of the full spectrum of his skillset. As we have mutually expressed to each other, knowing that someone else exists with such curiosity for all mediums is very validating to our own existence. It’s no wonder that we ended up losing our voices over conversation while eagerly sharing our parallel artists’ journeys. @abhasmisraraj / @abhas.art

I’m actually not positive how I met Suri — I suspect it was through an Asian Creative Network mutual, Nathan — but I’m sure glad we connected regardless. In my last week, we met up at Ground Up Coffee Co. where I got to hear her rite of passage as a singer/songwriter and trying to make it in the world of performing arts. She confided in me her aspirations as a fellow multi-disciplinary creative: pursing her master’s in creative writing, dreams of producing music for film, and creating a community where she could give back. It was absolutely heartwarming and affirming to hear from a fellow artist that because I’ve chosen to safeguard my art as a hobby, I have been able to preserve its purity. And once again, I’m reminded that I have this gift that shouldn’t be left to go to waste. @surimusings

I met Amy on my second to last night at SweetGreen, and was so elated to find someone who could practice some Mandarin with me! We had some time to connect via text prior to meeting in person, so I already knew that (1) she was skilled in illustration and (2) had recently pivoted from a career as a business analyst to consulting for non-profits. Our friendly chat developed quite rapidly, and I appreciated how Amy didn’t hold back from delving into interesting questions which allowed us to explore topics like my aromanticism or my perspective on my friendships as influenced by the quarantine. I had brought a sketchbook along in wishful thinking that we could perhaps create a collaboration in person over our conversation. To my delight, Amy took to the idea without hesitation! I had such a blast, I regretted having met with her so late such that there was no time to reunite before I left. @ajin.arts

I had not expected to actually meet Kris (due to lack of time and my now strained social stamina) but when he suggested to collab — I could not resist! So, on the very last night of my stay, I made my way out to Pilsen (the last unexplored area of the map which had been described to me as the SF Mission District of Chicago) where I met up Kris with a little piece of plastic1, and he, his camera. We ended up obsessing over this little plastic cap, and the best part? Kris even agreed to allow me to play photographer and modeled for me! We playful energy of the shoot rivaled the playdates from my childhood, and I’m already daydreaming of the day we can collaborate together again! @kr.evangelista

And of course, special shout out to the hubs for coming through at the end of the 3rd week so that we could do all the typical tourism things one normally does in Chi town together (the Cloud Gate/Bean at Millennium Park, the Riverwalk and Navy Pier, Lincoln Park Zoo, North Beach for views of the skyline, strolling the 606…). Chicago felt comfortable before his arrival, but having his company made Chicago feel, at last, like home.

So, thank you, Chicago; thank you for a series of unexpectedly good weather (the weatherman kept promising gloomy and overcast skies but your unpredictability continually surprised me with sunny afternoons), a continually wholesome conversations, and scars around my ankles from endless urban hikes. I won’t miss how how you dried out my eyes with your blustery forecast nor the shady night rides home on the train, but I’ll still miss you all the same.

love,

nowhere girl in Colorado

#journaling #love letters #chicago #travel blog #wanderlust #vacations #work from home #work from anywhere #digital nomad #asian creative network #chi town #windy city #how to make friends #chicago creatives #creative chimera

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bigjohnsadventuresintravel · 6 years ago

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A Glimpse into the Enchanted Land of New Mexico

There’s this guy I know who is a collosal dreamer. There’s really nothing wrong with associating yourself with people like that; unless perhaps you’re intent on surrounding yourself with only the more well-grounded, mundane types. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t recommend engaging this guy in anything more than casual conversation. I let my guard down just once around him and he had me nearly convinced he knew the whereabouts of some hidden treasure chest worth millions. Had I possessed anything less than the most superb rational mind, I would’ve packed my suitcase that very moment, grabbed my fedora and compass, and booked the very first flight to New Mexico.

Well, the last I spoke to this adventurous fellow, he had descrambled a bunch of secret passages in some old man’s book, purchased a flight to Albuquerque, and turned an entire wilderness area north of Santa Fe completely upside down. Unfortunately, the treasure had eluded him just like the thousands of others before. Suprisingly though, his failed expedition left him completely undaunted. He actually seemed assured that he was closer now to finding it than ever before. He told me he had simply strayed off course due to a matter of simple semantics and was planning to pick up the trail again in the coming months. I told him he should quit chasing waterfalls and come back down to level ground. He just sort of smirked at me and walked away. That’s how this guy is. He’s quite the character!

Anyway, not long after that peculiar encounter, I happened to visit the Land of Enchantment myself. Now don’t go spreading any rumors here. I wasn’t there trying to find any 11th century treasure chest full of precious gems and golden nuggets. I was simply there to get some tasty New Mexican cuisine. I heard the green and red chili toppings were to die for. Since my wife, my son, and my friend were also feeling hungry, they came along for the ride. We had quite the adventure and before departing our 47th state, the beauty of New Mexico had us all a bit entranced.

Big John and team follow the old cattle trails to a mesa top with a view.

My son, Jonah, on a dusty trail west of Cimarron.

It was in a charred forest not too far from here where Smokey the Bear was rescued as a cub.

Big John and Mr. Ford taking in the crisp mountain air while admiring God’s handiwork.

Not only does New Mexico possess a diverse and magnificent landscape, the state has some of the most colorful history in in all of our country. From Spanish Conquistadors, Apache Indians, outlaw gangs, to rough-and-tumble mountaineers on the Old Santa Fe Trail, this place is teeming with its legends and lore.

A plaque adorns the wall of this old Santa Fe jail cell that allegedly housed Billy the Kidd.

Famous rustlers and outlaws such as the Dalton Gang, Butch Cassidy, and Billy the Kidd once called New Mexico their home.

The San Miguel Mission in Santa Fe, built in 1610, is the oldest surviving church in the United States.

Jonah, Big John, and the lovely Miss Rebecca all pose in front of this grand old church.

With centuries of worshipers, could you imagine the stories told if these walls could talk?

Reminds me of a famous book entitled “For Whom the Bell Tolls”.

I can easily count two of my blessings inside the confines of these church walls.

Just outside the doors of the oldest church in America rests the oldest house in the country as well. The De Vargas Street House began as the foundation of an ancient Indian pueblo built around 1200 A.D.

The De Vargas Street House is the oldest house in Santa Fe and America.

The original builders of this adobe style hearth probably had to wait just a little while before the invention of microwave popcorn came around.

Jonah seemed quite surprised when I informed him that the house was even older than me.

The Pueblo architecture found throughout Santa Fe and the rest of New Mexico offers some insight into the state’s earliest inhabitants.

La Fonda on the Plaza is just one of Santa Fe’s luxury hotels offering an authentic Southwestern experience.

Built in 1931, the Lensic Theater is still operational, adding to Santa Fe’s old-style charm.

This beautiful church, the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, is another much celebrated landmark of Santa Fe.

One can’t help but admire the artistry in these beautifully crafted cathedral doors.

The Palace of the Governors has been a vital part of Santa Fe’s history since around 1610.

Since the time of its construction, the Palace of the Governors has flown three different flags: The Spanish, the Mexican, and finally the American.

The palace is now a great place to find local artisans peddling their wares through the Native American Vendor Program.

With over 240 amazing art galleries in town, visitors easily discover why Santa Fe is the art mecca of the Southwest.

New Mexico is the home of numerous Native American tribes, to include the Navaho, Tewa, Ute, Pueblo, Pecos, Apache, and many more.

Many of these galleries offer not only the amazing opportunity to appreciate creative expression; they also allow visitors to witness real pieces of history and culture on display.

Eagle and Indian sculpture outside of Mountain Trails Gallery, Santa Fe, NM.

Chili Peppers are the flavor of the day when at the plaza in Santa Fe.

New Mexico’s big game species include deer, elk, bear, cougar, pronghorn antelope, Barbary sheep, bighorn sheep, and more.

The Palisades Sill is a popular natural landmark located on the Cimarron River canyon between Eagle Nest and Cimarron in the northern part of the state. It can be seen in the eastern part of Cimarron Canyon State Park.

One of the best places to eat in all of New Mexico can be found in Taos. Bella’s Mexican Grill provides a beautiful, comfortable venue with a patio serving modern spins on traditional Mexican cuisine. The fish tacos & tortilla soup comes highly recommended!

New Mexico is arguably the best state in the country to embark on a road trip through one of nature’s most diverse landscapes.

Constructed in 1793, the San Felipe de Neri Parish is the oldest church in Albuquerque.

I didn’t dare make any eye contact. These Abuquerque desperados were just itchin’ for a fight!

There’s always something festive happening in Old Town, Albuquerque!

Literally every place in New Mexico is like visiting a fountain of youth. These places won’t actually make you any younger, but many are so old that you will just naturally feel much younger by comparison. This restaurant, La Placita, has been serving up dishes since 1788. Yeah, they must be doing something right!

Did I mention that Albuquerque was named the low-rider capital of the world?

Where’s Waldo?

The Kimo Theater, another historic Albuquerque landmark, rests just a stone’s throw away from that historic Route 66.

After touring Santa Fe, Taos, and Albuquerque, we decided to break from the hustle and bustle and get back into the wonders of God’s creation.

Rebecca and Jonah briefly halt for a snapshot before disappearing in the slot canyons of Kashu-Katuwe.

Kasha-Katuwe, meaning “white cliffs” is a national park near Santa Fe famous for its tent-rock formations and slot canyons.

Over the span of time, weathering and erosion has created these magnificent canyons and tent rocks. The tent rocks themselves are cones formed of soft pumice and tuff buried beneath harder caprocks. They vary in height from a few feet and upwards of ninety feet.

Jonah tries to find a bit of shade under the exposed trunk of this tree. Man, is it starting to get hot!

There she is! My one and only!

These layers of rock show evidence of weathering throughout the years.

What’s that pretty girl looking at?

She must be up to something!

I think I’ll follow her!

She’s always one step ahead of me.

I tried stalking her from above but I’m almost certain she’s spotted me!

I love all of the cacti and other desert plant life. Just keep those rattlers away!

It’s becoming a tight squeeze through these canyon walls. Even Jonah is walking sideways!

Jonah is able to capture some fantastic photos to share on his Facebook page!

Squeezing through these cramped passages, I could only hope that all of these rocks had already fallen.

My wife and son lead the way as we hike through the canyon and up to the top.

…and that, folks, is why they are are called “tent-rocks”!

Sometimes my smartphone camera just doesn’t do the scenery any justice.

It’s almost hard to believe these formations weren’t man-made.

I wonder if anybody’s ever pulled out their swiss-army knife and set about carving themselves a home? I imagine, if there’s a Walmart nearby, that a guy could live fairly well in one of these pointy rocks. Although, I would recommend picking up a few other essentials like an air mattress, water, and lots of trail mix and beef jerky.

I don’t know why this cacti plant fascinated me so much. It just sort of looked like some alien lifeform. Yeah, I think the heat was getting to me.

This reminds me of the desert scene from Young Guns. (For all you too young to know anything, that was a hit movie in 1988 starring Charlie Sheen and Emilio Estevez).

With our very lovely guide leading the way, Jonah and I made it all the way to the top!

What can I say? She likes to live dangerously.

She was playing hard to get, but now she’s letting me get the gain on her.

Later on, I tried to get her to explore this cave with me. She didn’t really go for that idea.

As you can see, we had an amazing time in New Mexico. Thank you for visiting my page and I hope this site inspires you to pack those suitcases and make some of your own adventures.

Please feel free to explore other areas of Big John’s Adventures in Travel and show me a little love on social media. Come back soon.

Happy travels,

Big John

#Kasha-Katuwe #New Mexico #Tent Rocks National Monument

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everettwilkinson · 7 years ago

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Kicking The Can Down The Road, It’s What We Do! – Daily Pfennig

Chuck Butler’s: A Pfennig For Your Thoughts

December 7, 2017

* Dollar buying continues…

* BOC leaves rates unchanged…

* Chuck explains dollar buying..

Good Day… And A Tub Thumpin’ Thursday to you! The Pfennig won the coin toss today, much to my chagrin, as I was looking forward to catching a few more zzz’s this morning… But here I am, and I’m ready to rock you like a hurricane! Not! I took a step backward yesterday, as Tuesday was a pain free day, and I got cocky and thought I could ditch my walker and go back to my cane yesterday.. Bad thought! I guess I need to be more patient… Stevie Wonder greets me this morning with his song: I Wish… which is from my fave album by Stevie Wonder… Songs in the key of life..

The buying of the dollar which began on our Tom Terrific Tuesday, continued throughout yesterday and overnight, with the Dollar Index rising from 93.11 a couple of days ago to 93.77 this morning. Or, you could very easily see that the dollar has the conn right now, by looking at the euro, which has fallen from near 1.20 last week to 1.1780 this morning…

So… what’s all this dollar buying about I hear you asking? Well, I think it’s investors getting in ahead of the final Tax Bill is approved, for in that Tax Bill is a provision much like the one that we had to suffer through in 2005, where U.S. Companies doing business overseas will be able to repatriate earnings held in the overseas country back to the U.S. at a reduced tax rate…

From what I’ve read, the numbers go like this: The President’s numbers have the total holdings overseas at $4 Trillion. It is estimated that 70% of that total is already held in dollars, which leaves 30% or $1.2 Trillion that’s held in a foreign currency, that could be converted to dollars and returned to the U.S. That would be a HUGE positive move for the dollar, folks… But it would be a one and one deal… I suspect that the majority of the conversions would take place in the first quarter of 2018.

But that’s a HUGE number to get converted, so that’s what I think is happening right now… Investors that see this coming are getting in ahead of the deal… Of course the Senate Tax plan still has to be reconciled with the House Tax plan, and be on the President’s desk by year-end… We are approaching the Christmas break, and that could very well be a roadblock for the approval before year-end…

Before we get to Christmas though, we have to get through the passage of a Budget here in the U.S. Tomorrow is the deadline that was put in place when the lawmakers couldn’t agree on anything a couple of months ago, except to extend the talks to 12/8/2017, which happens to be tomorrow!

I fully expect the lawmakers to pass another extension tomorrow to keep the Gov’t from shutting down, which is nothing more than kicking the can down the road, folks… Like the GEICO commercials.. Kicking the can down the road, it’s what we do…

Alrighty then, I’m going to move along here, because I could feel my blood pressure rising while talking about our lawmakers inability to pass a budget…

The Bank of Canada (BOC) met yesterday, and left rates unchanged, but sent the loonie downward with their comments following the rate announcement. Seems the BOC is worried about rising inflation, but with no rate hike to combat that worry, the markets immediately believed the BOC will be behind when inflation begins to take off… And that meant the selling of the loonie, which lost nearly 1 full cent yesterday.

The Aussie dollar (A$) and kiwi were also on the selling blocks yesterday, as traders are looking at their positive rate situation to the dollar, and seeing it narrow, as these two currencies’ respective Central Banks are in now hurry to hike rates, and that will leave their positive rate advantage to the dollar at risk…

The price of Oil has really drifted downward this week, after a report showed that U.S. gasoline supplies were more than ample. And with the price of Oil slipping, the Petrol Currencies get sold in sympathy to the falling Oil price. Our friends (NOT!) at OPEC continue to adhere to their self-induced reduced production levels, but all that does is give the U.S. shale producers the thought that they could rule the world… And their production goes sky high… The OPEC members truly thought that by now their production cuts would yield an Oil price of more than $60… Instead they are dealing with a slipping Oil price of $56 and change..

But the slippage in the price of Oil is peanuts compared to the slippage in the price of Gold lately… The shiny metal lost another $3 in trading yesterday, which wasn’t that bad, but has lost over $9 in the early morning trading today… UGH! Somewhere, probably in Russia and China, they are not so upset with this drop in the price of Gold, due to their continued buying of the shiny metal…

Is all this selling in Gold just a move ahead of the price reset that James Rickards talks about? I sure hope so!

The U.S. Data Cupboard had the ADP Employment Report for November yesterday, and it disappointed the markets… The expectations for the data was that it would show 235,000 jobs created in November, but instead it only showed 190,000… So, like I explained previously, this ADP report is supposed to give us an indication of what the BLS comes up with tomorrow…

The BLS report is as useless as the G in Lasagna, to me… For I am aware of a few of the games the BLS plays with the report, and it just makes me sick to my stomach to think that the markets still put their faith in the BLS and trade accordingly… UGH! I had better stop there before I get all revved up about the BLS.. Come on Chuck, move along… OK… I was this close to ripping them apart at the seams, but I’ll save that for another day…

To recap … The dollar has the conn, and it appears to Chuck that these dollar buyers are getting in ahead of the passage of the Tax Bill for in the Bill there’s a repatriation piece that allows U.S. Corporations doing business overseas to repatriate their earnings at a reduced tax rate, and it could mean tons of currency conversions to dollars, folks… UGH! The BOC left rates unchanged and then opened mouth and inserted foot, and it cost the loonie a full cent in value…

For What It’s Worth… Yesterday I told you about how U.K. PM May was in trouble regarding her views on BREXIT, and to my delight zerohedge.com had an article explaining it better, so that’s what I have for you today and it can be found here:http://www.zerohedge.com/news/2017-12-06/pound-tumbles-amid-brexit-chaos-headline-havoc

Or, here’s your snippet: “Cable traders are suffering through a news overload this morning, with the optimism and euphoria which sent the pound to two month highs as recently as 2 days ago fading fast on speculation whether U.K. P.M. Theresa May will be able to engineer a Brexit breakthrough in time. And following overnight speculation that her cabinet may revolt, and what one desk dubbed “headline havoc” this morning in which DUP sources saying that there will be no deal this week, it’s looking increasingly in jeopardy.

Overnight The Telegraph and Bloomberg reported that Theresa May is facing a revolt from inside her Cabinet over her plan to keep U.K. regulations aligned with the European Union after Brexit, “a split that threatens to undermine her chances of breaking the deadlock in negotiations.” Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson and Environment Secretary Michael Gove “will lead a Cabinet revolt against Theresa May over fears she is forcing a soft Brexit” the Telegraph reported. While this is hardly the first time we’ve heard this sort of speculation, considering the closeness to the EU Council Summit next Thursday/Friday, the clock is ticking for May to come up with a solution.

That may be tricky because with just days to go until a deadline to get talks back on track and the pound sliding for a second day, May is struggling to get the Northern Irish party that props up her government to sign up to her Brexit strategy. Wednesday had been tipped as the day May could head back to Brussels to resume talks that suffered an embarrassing breakdown on Monday. Explaining the tension, DB’s Oliver Harvey believes the question of a December breakthrough is now in doubt after the DUP rejected the proposed compromise over Northern Ireland’s status after Brexit, and so scuppering talks. He notes that the failure of the UK to reach agreement is problematic for four reasons. 1) the DUP appears to have drawn a red line over continued regulatory alignment between Northern Ireland the Republic. 2) proposed regulatory alignment between Northern Ireland and the Republic has emboldened leaders of other devolved administrators, most notably in Scotland. 3) the rejection of the deal has emboldened some hard Brexiteers within the Conservative Party, and 4) time is now tight.”

Chuck again… I know that was quite long for a “snippet” but I wanted to make sure you understand the problems that PM May is facing and apply that to how we should continue to steer clear of pound sterling…

Currencies today 12/7/17… American Style: A$ .7520, kiwi .6833, C$ .7797, euro 1.1780, sterling 1.3345, Swiss $1.0073, … European Style: rand 13.5036, krone 8.2770, SEK 8.4453, forint 267.10, zloty 3.5746, koruna 21.7220, RUB 58.99, yen 112.75, sing 1.3506, HKD 7.8107, INR 64.50, China 6.6135, peso 18.92, BRL 3.2375, Dollar Index 93.77, Oil $56.11, 10-year 2.34%, Silver $15.84, Platinum $898.44, Palladium $1,000.44, and Gold… $1,257.00

That’s it for today… It’s Pearl Harbor Day… A couple of years ago, I took a trip to Hawaii, and visited the Pearl Harbor museum… I wish everyone could make that trip, for that’s a very “moving experience”… So… today marks the 76th anniversary of the first “day in infamy” for the U.S. I will be taking a minute to reflect on that day today, and I would hope you would too… I’ll go back to being careful with my movements today, and store away that cockiness I had yesterday for sure! I told you the other day that I was visited by good friends, Rick and Laura, and today’s song that takes us to the finish line is one of Laura’s favorites songs… The Scorpions and their song: Still Loving You take us to the finish line today, and with that… I hope you have a Tub Thumpin’ Thursday, and Be Good To Yourself!

Chuck Butler

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