#its from the guardian but ive seen this same part on few different news things now

[ninjasmudge]

...

lot of people smarter than me have phrased the nuances around this whole situation better than i could, but sometimes i feel like stuff like this kind of speaks for itself

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH114

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 114: The Dream of the Holy Nun (IV)

"So, you’re the one who took Rudd away from the pub just now? Do you know him?" Qi Leren asked.

"I do. He and Mr. Arnold were my mother's friends, and I recently learned that Mr. Arnold has passed away," Ning Zhou said. The knight Arnold was his first teacher, and most of his fighting skills were learned from him. When Arnold died a few months ago, he didn't find out right away. Although he’d been to the Village of Dusk, he had been in too much of a hurry and didn't visit Arnold, and he didn't hear the news of his death until recently.

Because he didn't know where he was buried, he had come to Arnold's friend Rudd, who brought him here. Then he came to visit Maria, who was also buried nearby, and then he met Qi Leren.

Qi Leren thought deeply at that instant, and some of his thoughts made him afraid.

If he had chosen the left door instead of the right one in the abandoned church, would he have met Ning Zhou in the game?

Maybe, maybe not.

If he had met Ning Zhou at that time, would the plot of the Nightmare Game have changed dramatically?

The answer was yes.

If Maria was really the Holy Nun then, as her child, Ning zhou in the game will definitely make the same choice as him now. If he took Ning zhou to the Holy City…

Qi Leren gave a wry smile in his heart. So he had given his "first drop of blood" in the Holy City because he hadn't brought the task’s key NPC?

He didn't want to think like this because it made him think Ning Zhou was an NPC in the game, not a living human being.

Maybe there was such a possibility if he had seen Ning Zhou composed of a series of data through the computer screen. He wouldn’t have a problem regarding him as an ordinary NPC, and he wouldn’t explore his life, nor be moved by his emotions. Even if he saw him die, he could only sigh for him and forget in an instant.

This was too cruel, too cruel…

"Let's go and find Rudd. He knows that Arnold has a key item in his hand. With it, we can cross the fog outside the Holy City and enter the 'Holy City'," Qi Leren said, clearing the mood.

The Holy City in the fog was also the Dream of the Holy Nun, or in a more colloquial way, a field created by Maria, a world shrouded by the illusion of peace and tranquility, where the human beings who had survived the demon invasion lived happily and were ignorant of the world, under the appearance of peace. However, after the death of the Holy Nun, the illusion of peace has become increasingly fragile, and would eventually reveal the ferocious and horrible contents.

The two men turned back to another path. Ning Zhou had just returned from Arnold's grave and returned there now with Qi Leren. He found Rudd in the cemetery. Qi Leren remembered that Rudd had easily given him the task in the game and had told him that the keepsake was in Arnold's former residence, hoping that he would take the keepsake to the Holy City as soon as possible and rescue the human beings trapped in the Holy City.

But this time, Qi Leren hadn't chatted with Ruth in the pub. He was worried that Rudd would no longer tell him this key information since the son of his old friend was here. Would Rudd be more cooperative?

While he was weighing his words, Ning Zhou asked straight away: "Give me her field memento."

Rudd, who was still drunk, suddenly sobered up and denied it: "I don't have that kind of thing!"

Qi Leren was stunned at the plot’s sudden change. Rudd's attitude was too strange. Why did he deny it? In the "Nightmare Game", he couldn't wait to tell him the clue of the memento… Was it because he’d missed the pub part of the plot?

No, it was because of Ning Zhou.

Qi Leren carefully observed Rudd’s eyes. When he looked at Ning Zhou, he obviously showed nervousness. He was trying to hide something…

Ning Zhou said that Rudd and Arnold were friends of his mother, so why didn't he want Ning Zhou to go to the Holy City?

Why?

Although the "Dream of the Holy Nun" had started to have problems, wasn't it better to crack the field early and let the human beings there leave? Why did he want to stop Ning Zhou?

Ning Zhou's aura suddenly suppressed. He seemed to be trying to endure something and asked in a low voice: "Did she know that her domain memento had fallen into the hands of you and Arnold?"

Rudd's lips moved and he swallowed what he said: "I don't know what you’re talking about."

Ning Zhou took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His over-suppressed voice trembled slightly: "She was thinking about going back before she died..."

Rudd seemed to have been struck by lightning, and his pale face was stiff and sober.

"You knew she’d been thinking about going back. For more than a decade, she’d been worried and tormented, and she had woken up from nightmares over and over again... She thought that her domain memento had been lost in the Holy City, but she didn’t expect that you were hiding it." Ning Zhou’s blue eyes brewed with deep anger and disappointment, "Why did you hide it from her? Why?!”

Rudd, who was left without face, trembled in a way that made him look a little vulnerable in front of Ning Zhou’s anger. He looked at Arnold's grave and seemed to draw strength from his friend. He shouted, "If Maria knew that her field memento hadn’t been left in the Holy City, she would have definitely gone back, but her field is dead! The only way to solve the field is to destroy it completely. What's the difference was there between that and killing her? How could we watch her die?!”

"A soldier should die on the battlefield. This is the supreme honor given by the Lord. Accept it, don’t run from it." Ning Zhou took a step toward him and Ruth was intimidated by his imposing manner, retreating unconsciously towards Arnold's tombstone.

"Let me finish what she failed to finish. Now, give me her field memento," Ning Zhou said as he reached his hand to Rudd, staring into his eyes.

Rudd was silent, his clenched teeth revealing his fear as they rattled. He seemed to be a trapped beast pushed to its limit, struggling with his heart at a loss.

"I don't know," Rudd let this sentence drop and fled away from the cemetery.

In the sunset, only Qi Leren and Ning Zhou were left.

Seeing this, Qi Leren somewhat understood why Rudd would tell him the whereabouts of the field memento so easily in the Nightmare Game. Rudd was afraid. The pious Arnold would rather reveal his deception so that he could go to heaven after his death, but Rudd was not as persistent as he was. He wanted to relieve his guilt, so he chose to give the field memento to a stranger who was willing to go to the Holy City, and let him fulfill Maria's last wish.

Qi Leren could understand Rudd's feelings to some extent. Just like how when he was undercover with the Slaughter Secret Society, he would rather leave a letter about the  Nightmare Game’s main task and some scattered side tasks in his own room, expecting a stranger whom he had never met to take over the heavy responsibility rather than tell Dr. Lu about it.

The heart that wanted to protect relatives and friends was the same.

"I know where it is." After consideration, Qi Leren said it: "It's in Arnold's home."

Ning Zhou stood at Arnold's grave. He had been his first teacher and his mother's knight. He had vowed to be loyal to Maria, but he would rather break his oath and bring this secret to the grave, even if his soul would be condemned to fall into hell.

Ning Zhou closed his eyes, recalling how Arnold had patiently taught him many years ago, and helped him to correct one of the simplest knife-cutting movements carefully. After Maria died, he had followed Maria's last wish and sent him to the Holy See, where the Pope personally served as his guardian.

But this was the man who had sent Maria to her grave believing a white lie.

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[hyruviandoctor]

Soft Petals - Chapter IV

Okay so it’s not the morning like I intended it to be, but here it is: the fourth chapter of Soft Petals. Sorry this one took so long - I hit some severe writer’s block with the very beginning of this chapter, which obviously held up the rest of the chapter as well. I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Here’s the AO3 link

Reblogs are greatly appreciated as well!

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All around the chamber, small candle holders spun around on circular sections from within the walls. Their candles were different from any Link had ever seen; they were shaped like traditional wax candles, but they seemed to be made out of stone and metal and their wick wasn’t visible. Each held a small blue flame burning bright and illuminating the room with the blue glow they had seen from the doorway.

A small, square portion of the wall had opened up in front of Zelda and out of it had slid a stone slab decorated with the Sheikah runes that adorned the various technological structures and constructs throughout the land. Yet another panel flipped over, this time on the slab itself, revealing a very familiar sight.

“A second Sheikah Slate!” Zelda gasped, clasping her hands together in excitement.

The princess grabbed the tablet from its resting place and the slab retreated back into the wall, which closed back over the opening as if it had never been out of place to begin with. She began flipping through the different screens on the Slate, looking for any differences between it and the one they had obtained over a hundred years prior. She spun on her heels and lifted the slate to her eye as she pointed it at Link and Paya.

“Say cheese!”

There was the familiar sound of a picture being snapped and then appearing on the screen. Link’s gear was all highlighted with the various markers that would lead to each item’s respective entry in the encyclopedic catalogue contained within the tablet.

“It would seem as though this Sheikah Slate is identical in functionality to the other one we have, even including the upgraded features Purah was able to activate,” Zelda told the other two members of her party.

“Your highness,” Paya began, “is this what we came in search of?”

Zelda shook her head.

“Not at all! I’m just as surprised as you to find this here, in fact. I had no idea there was a second Sheikah Slate down here. I’m curious as to how it was never discovered until now, considering how heavily this lab was used by your grandmother and her sister before the Calamity.”

Link looked around the room again. He and Zelda had spent basically every day together before the Calamity, and he almost never left her side. Yet, he did not recognize this room in the slightest. He remembered the research lab, and seemed to recall having been in the main area upstairs, but this basement area was completely new to him. Seeing that Paya was on the other side of the room and rummaging through some books, Link leaned in close to Zelda.

“Have I ever been here?” he whispered.

Zelda smiled softly and shook her head in the negative, eliciting a nearly undetectable sigh of relief from her knight. She knew Link was still trying to regain some of his memories, and despite how much progress he had made towards regaining them he was always worried that he was forgetting something or someone or someplace that he shouldn’t have forgotten. In the beginning of the two of them resuming their travels together, he was quite nervous about having forgotten things along their journey. Zelda had made comments on places and people early on after they had been reunited that had caused Link distress when he simply couldn’t remember them. Since then she had made a conscious effort to explain things to him and remind him when he asked about various events or locations or people, and he had become much less anxiety-riddled as a result. There was no way of knowing for sure how much of his memory had returned, but it seemed to be a very sizeable portion, and he was able to discuss the past freely almost all of the time.

Thank Hylia that amnesia seems to have been temporary, Zelda thought to herself. I do wonder how long the fear of having forgotten will last.

Oh well, no sense worrying about that now, she figured. She gave Link a quick peck on the cheek, giggling when he blushed, and spun around to search the underground laboratory for what she had actually come for.

The purpose of their visit, Zelda explained to her companions, was to find Purah and Robbie’s old scientific journals, as well as an ancient history book on Sheikah technology that had been discovered alongside the lab. They held notes on the Divine Beasts and the various types of Guardians, making them quite useful for the Hyrule rehabilitation efforts.

After a few moments of searching, Link located them stacked up underneath a mess of papers splayed out on a desk in a corner. Zelda took one from him and began flipping through it, glancing excitedly at the sketches and scribbled notes. She closed the book gave Link another quick kiss, her smile absolutely infectious.

“This is it! With this we can accelerate the restoration of Hyrule to its former glory! We may even be able to harness the power of the Divine Beasts to rebuild!”

Paya smiled from where she leaned on a desk as the princess and hero celebrated. As long as her friends were happy, she was happy. Occasionally leaving home on these expeditions was good for her, she decided. She missed her grandmother and the village, of course, but getting out and seeing the world alongside Link and Zelda was something she wouldn’t trade for anything.

Paya followed as Link and Zelda turned to leave, glancing back around the room as she reached the doorway. It was hard to imagine her grandmother or great aunt busily undertaking research here when they were her closer to her age. Impa rarely descended from her pile of pillows these days, and the thought of her in this room with her two closest friends in much the same way Paya herself was now was enough to bring a smile to Paya’s face.

- - - - -

When the sun rose the next morning, the trio ate together and then proceeded to pack up their camp once more. Paya was returning to Kakariko, while Link and Zelda were headed back to Hateno. Considering they were going in roughly the same direction and were in no rush, the three decided to ride together until they had to part.

The trip was largely uneventful, with most of the time being passed through idle conversation or Zelda reading various passages from the journals to the others. The contents of the pages weren’t always all that interesting to Link, but he loved listening to Zelda talk. Her voice was so soothing to him that he caught himself nodding off happily more than once.

When the time came for Paya to split off from Link and Zelda the sun was low in the sky and they all found themselves eager to be home and in their soft beds – traveling across the kingdom on horseback and sleeping on the ground for days at a time wasn’t the most comfortable existence, of course. Besides, Zelda was eager to have Link all to herself again. As much as she enjoyed Paya’s company, she was always grateful to be alone with her hero. Being around him always brought out a side of her that she wasn’t willing to admit existed until recently; she certainly wouldn’t have admitted it during most of their travels before the Calamity. But now that they were free from the constraints of their old lives, Zelda found it much easier to let it show just how deeply she cared for her champion.

“Let’s go home,” Link said in a low, tender voice, stirring Zelda’s heart.

She smiled warmly in return.

“Let’s.”

- - - - -

The sun had set and the stars blanketed the night sky with dazzling glimmers as Link and Zelda crossed the small bridge that separated Link’s house from the rest of Hateno Village. Link dismounted and walked around to the side of Zelda’s horse to help her down. She threw her left leg over her horse’s head so both feet dangled from the right side and then pushed herself off and into Link’s waiting open arms. He spun around with her twice before placing her feet back on the ground, at which point she promptly grabbed the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his. He felt her sigh in bliss at the contact, and he pulled her close by the waist with one hand and placed the other softly against the back of her head.

Link felt the princess tug gently at his waistband, huffing grumpily when she realized his belt was in her way. She let go and instead cupped him in her hand through his trousers, squeezing ever so gently – just enough to get a solid reaction. She placed her mouth once again near his ear, her warm breath sending lightning through his veins.

“Don’t take too long putting up the horses, hero.”

And with that, Zelda turned and walked towards the house she now shared with Link, making sure to give him a little bit of a show with how she moved her hips. When she reached the door, she turned to him and gave him a wink before stepping inside. She left it open just a crack, and the light of a now lit candle bathed a wedge of grass in warm light.

Link had never gotten the horses stabled that quickly in his life.

[thisiscomics]

A nice little reminder that all this nonsense about whether Constantine is in the DCU or not, and the movement back and forth, is pretty irrelevant, and time would be better spent on storytelling than worrying about what universe is in what continuity. The Ace of Winchesters was first mentioned in Hellblazer, in the early days of Vertigo. Garth Ennis then used it in Hitman a couple of years later- John and Brendan had stolen it previously, now it was the turn of Catwoman to get her hands on this mystical weapon. Nobody seemed particularly concerned about this (admittedly vague) linking of the mature readers line with more mainstream characters then, it just seemed to be accepted that both things could exist (as with the Justice League references to the Doom Patrol being in the same headquarters at one point, or the heroes that occasionally showed up in Vertigo books), without having to alter the entire premise for no real reason, as DC ultimately did with Constantine.

A further example of the redundancy of such moves is seen with the presence of Jason Woodrue- his recollections of his past here are firmly tied to established Vertigo (or really, the Berger books that became Vertigo) stories- he refers to his discovery that the Swamp Thing was not human (as per Moore’s “The Anatomy Lesson”) and he talks of teaching both Alec Holland and Pamela Isley (as established by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean’s Black Orchid mini-series). This history can coexist with the less ‘serious’ events of his history, such as becoming a New Guardian as a result of events in Millennium, without any need to segregate them or ret-con them.

Perhaps you wouldn’t want a reader of a certain age to be picking up the source texts from the shelf, but that doesn’t mean you can’t refer to them, particularly when they are significant events in the character’s biography- I always felt that the DC version of John Constantine might have had more luck if his biography had been left alone, instead of altered in some sort of poorly conceived notion of making it more suitable for a wider audience. Clearly there are elements that would not be suitable for inclusion in a book you have decided to aim at younger readers (and I will skip the questioning of the logic behind that decision, because I still don’t understand what they thought they would get out of that....), but one can easily refer to a character’s past without needing to provide all the detail- there’s no real sign of Moore’s unsettling horror here, for example, which would likely be deemed a little much for the target audience, but his story is untouched- the unsavoury elements can be brushed over, as required.

It seems particularly strange, now that DC is quite happy to have horror and violence more mainstream than it once was, turning a lot of titles darker than they may have been when Vertigo was still a force to be reckoned with, that they weren’t better able to reconcile the differences before now. Vertigo existed to tell the darker tales, but the DCU never quite separated from the imprint for a large part of the 90s, even if there was rarely any need for each ‘universe’ to directly reference the other, as they were clearly operating under different purposes and audiences. Yet as DC decided to make moves that ultimately lead to Vertigo closing its doors (Swamp Thing, Constantine, Animal Man and Doom Patrol all moved to the DCU, as well as the first run of Justice League Dark indicating that there was an editorial appetite for something a little different to the normal Justice League books, where previously this would have probably been more adult and at Vertigo, if commissioned at all), they deliberately separated things out, making it clear that Swamp Thing et al. were in the DCU, unnecessarily pushing some sort of continuity agenda that, if sales are any indication, no one really cared for.

Hellblazer and Swamp Thing had both lasted some time under the guidance of Vertigo editorial (171 issues and another volume of 20 or so for Alec Holland’s alter-ego, 300 issues for John Constantine’s mis-adventures), and Doom Patrol and Animal Man had both made into the high 80s (Shade, who was never really moved over with quite the same fanfare, instead confined to a few issues of Peter Milligan’s run on Justice League Dark, still made it to 70 at Vertigo). It would be misleading to suggest they didn’t have their own popularity problems- sales figures eventually led to cancellation in most cases, I believe (I’m not sure about Hellblazer, it seemed to just keep going, so I assume it was cancelled because DC wanted Constantine, whereas the others they could just lay claim to since nothing much was happening with the properties anyway)- but the characters were lucky to last even half as long in the DCU as they had done at Vertigo, and often with less critical adulation.

Giving up John’s 300 issue success story for about 38 issues of a not-so-interesting DCU version, with the only benefit to the character being a bit of rejuvenation (presumably editorial logic about no one wanting to read about an older person?), seems very much the sort of shitty deal John would con someone into accepting before he pisses off into the dark and lights up a fag. Now that editorial seems to be admitting failure and bringing him back to Vertigo (or whatever label the Sandman family of books will now be under, since Vertigo is gone), we seem to ironically be seeing a little more reason on the DCU side when it comes to accepting the existence of the mature readers books- Dark seems happy to accept the existence of Vertigo stories, as required, and the Dark Multiverse seems to have brought a little bit of a Vertigo touch to certain ‘mainstream’ books. Dial H For Hero was even happy to spoof entire Vertigo styles in what is effectively an all ages book. Hopefully this all indicates an improved relationship between characters, and a future where there will be less of a turf war over who can be used and what they can say/do/refer to, and instead the right character (as well as the right aspects of their history) will be used to serve the story instead of serving the confused god of continuity.

From Justice League Dark 15, by James Tynion IV, Álvaro Martinez Bueno, Raul Fernandez, Brad Anderson & Rob Leigh

[maggotmouth]

        hi i’m nora ( 23. gmt. she/her ) and it turns out i really miss playing bridget ! i wasn’t feeling frida bt i wanted to explore som of her backstory more so ive kind of fused bits of her into bridget..... sue me.... for those of u who didn’t know her before i dropped her, bridget grew up in a trailer park in texas, she’s an angsty socialist leftie who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about capitalism.  film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation. here’s a pinboard !! everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll (probably forget to) smash that im button for plots x

application template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen BRIDGET MATUSIAK around in a while. the MARGARET QUALLEY lookalike has been known to be GARRULOUS & CANDID, but SHE can also be FICKLE & ERRATIC. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FILM. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

aesthetics.

thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, roller blades, grazed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes. piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you.

connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?

knew each other from the cheer team in bridgets freshman year and tatiana’s sophomore year. had a competitive friendship to start with but then they got into a discussion about politics at a party one night, and maybe hooked up a few times after tatiana had jst broken up w someone. they were sort of seeing each other very casually for a bit, but…. they came from vastly different circles n it didn’t really work. they were in a bad partch at the time of the reaping so to speak, and bridget picked her name For A Giggle but now regrets it big time obviously

tw drugs, teen pregnancy

BACKSTORY TIME.. her mother was from the wrong side of the tracks, was chucked out of home pretty young after a teenage pregnancy, wanted 2 go to art school and started working as an erotic dancer to pay for college but then jst…. ended up staying there. one of those girls u see in the documentaries who had Big Plans but ultimately never got to pursue them n jst got…. sucked in by the money 

her mom n dad met in high school at a parents evening. alice was fourteen, toby was thirty-one. bridget’s mom alice was a roman catholic – uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes – and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not. toby was the father to a girl down the road who alice knew nothing of besides her name and the few encounters in the corridors facing a stoney stare that screamed homewrecker. it only happened once, but once was enough. alice was out of the house as soon as her parents knew a child was growing in her womb.

bridget n her mum alice were more like sisters growing up, probably because of the closeness in age. alice should’ve known that you couldn’t have a thirteen-year-old-daughter at 27 without everyone knowing you’d been one of those girls who gave it away fast as a hot potato, and maybe bridget should have known that she’d inherit more than her mother’s wide eyes, that things have a way of circling back to us --- that at fourteen she too would lose it on the floor of a swimming pool changing room, soggy back, polka-dot nylon of a swimsuit pulled down to her ankles.

she grew up in a trailer park just outside of orlando resort, but she was raised in dressing rooms surrounded by sparkly costumes and nipple pasties and leotards and the like. as a kid she’d try to trot about in her moms heels n yearned for the day she’d be able to be on stage. 

if you’ve seen the florida project its a bit like tht.... just kids left to do their own shit.... mother’s a bit all over the place... made money by stealing wristbands off orlando theme park visitors, and bridget was p much raised by the community, to be honest. most of her youth was spent scurrying about half naked in cowboy boots and glasses too big for her face. a smol feral child

gilly (referred to as junior) was born four years after bridget, the son of a carpenter and sculpture artist named gilbert “gilly” senior, her moms latest squeeze. whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of furniture or hanging out with the kids who were visiting disneyland but couldn’t afford the hotels on the resort

like her mother, bridget fell pregnant barely out of her gingham print dresses, hair in two plaits down her back, teddies still lining her bed. unlike her mum, she was not box-shipped out to a home for fallen women but rather booked into a clinic, given a pill, just like taking your vitamins.

her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was eleven. they were in the system for a while, before gilly was finally granted custody as legal guardian. the three of them moved to marfa, texas so that gilly could run classes in sculpture and woodworking at the art institute. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicated herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors. bridget likes to believe that she’s an actress, her name in newspapers and her face in a star-spangled dressing mirror.

bridget used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in developing countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so…. and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone. will most definitely have quizzed your character on institutionalised racism whilst inhaling nos at a party and snacking on a big bowl of cheesy wotsits

aesthetic: big military or leather jackets over tiny little sundresses. always in docs or creepers and a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. cuffed jeans, thrifted or stolen. white converse, more grey tbh through years of wear. crop tops and plaid shirts tied round her waist. smudged mascara. glitter smeared over cheekbones from the previous night. cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson.

an aspiring screenwriter. she has a very image-based view of memory and experience. always doing a screenplay or shooting film. her style has a lot of catholic iconography (think virgin suicides style or baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet if it was done on a super 8 camera) bcos catholicism is one of the few things she remembers about her mother. she’s never actually tried to find her mum / find out about her, jst…. occasionally channels that energy into her work.

struggles with self-image and the need to be Loved By All a lot. uses sex as an affirmation of her worth and also kinda manic-depressive (though not officially diagnosed) bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparents refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist and hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at rallies. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

there’s a degree of anger for anger’s sake in bridget. she likes passionate, angry music – particularly garage rock, punk and riot grrrl. she loves the slits and skinny girl diet. viv albertine inspired her to take up bass guitar.

back at lockwood she was working two jobs to pay for uni !! at the bowling alley polishing the shoes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also as a burger flipper at mcdonalds. in amsterdam she’s managed to secure a part-time bar job at one of the hendrix university bars

massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who’re like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies

she spends her evenings in downtown bars willing away her boredom, trying to find something that’ll jerk her out of apathetic lethargy. she toys with the idea of becoming a stripper — it certainly pays better than flipping burgers — but she lacks the energy to dance for several hours a night.

she loves b movies and slasher flicks. at parties, she’ll occasionally try to make a horror of her own, on a super 8 camera in someone’s basement, very paranormal activity, but she’ll inevitably get bored, or too drunk and give up, like she does with most things in her life. she lacks drive and motivation. she’s bright but there’s no hunger in her.

she’s fickle and enigmatic. one moment she could be your best friend, the next, she’ll behave like a total stranger. bridget’s unpredictable because she’s still unsure of her own identity, frequently flitting between different characters, like snake skins, before she grows bored of being bubbly and eager and becomes spiteful again. her core personality traits are probably forthright, impulsive, restless, thrill-seeking, selfish, gregarious, easily bored, childish.

SOME ?MILDLY AMUSING? FACTS

writes shitty poems on the back of napkins and quotes dead philosophers she’s never read. romanticises herself a lot. like will be standing there in a ripped t-shirt and her undies smoking a cig like “hmmm… i bet someone is falling in love with me right now”

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties like that isn’t shit for the environment ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

favourite drink is cherry coke

a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.

sells nudes on twitter. whenever she gets low on cash she contacts one of the seedy old men who used to visit her mom’s club to venmo her $500 in return for pictures

that girl who’s always harping on about body positivity on instagram while wearing cute underwear and looking absolutely bomb

really good at rodeo bull riding. the club in marfa had one so as a youth she got really good at it bcos she was constantly tryin to outdo her friends on who could stay on for the longest. a video of her staying on one for like 4 minutes after downing several jager bombs went viral once.

micro-doses acid for mild depression bcos she didn’t believe in “that CBT bullshit”, thought that therapists, like her, were jst con artists so always a bit spaced out

volunteers at one of the local galleries but mostly just rants to old white dutch men about how cis white men have dominated art for years :/ is one of those SJW-types , like.... have a day off, jameela jamil......

has a pet rat called popeye

takes photographs of dead animals to use in her art and often posts them side-by-side with stills of women in porn to show the shelf-life of female sex workers in a patriarchal-dominated industry or some bullshit idk

big into spoken word poetry, even if its shit. likes savage depictions of femininity

wrote a thesis on art as an act of masturbation that got published

this bitch HATES capitalism and LOVES karl marx

time isn’t real. nothing exists. the self is a social construct. finger guns.

an awful person, really

plots i want that i mostly stole from the tags

muse a tries to stand up for muse b in a bar but unfortunately cannot fight for shit.

muse a (prob bridget cos works in a bar) works somewhere that’s open late and muse b comes in to take shelter from the storm.

‘I got in my car and you were sleeping in the backseat who the hell are you and how did you get into my car’ 

 umm a wlw plot isnpired by san junipero ! esp this post. could have been a former fling that ended sourly !! cos i dont like ship forcing but still?? give me wlw stuff

 “i just decked you in the face because i’m drunk and you were pissing me off but ow my hand really fucking hurts i think i might have broke it and oh look your nose is bleeding and now we’re both sitting awkwardly in the hospital while i glare at you from across the room. but wait are you giving me sex eyes?? stop that i’m supposed to mad at you??”

“platonically sharing a bed until i wake up and you’re curled round me and my nose is buried in your hair so i’ll pretend to stay asleep to keep this for a little while longer” plots

 “highkey want a ‘someone wrote your phone number on the wall of a bathroom in my dorm with ‘call for a good time’ and i just texted you to let you know that i scribbled it out and oh wait you’re actually funny and easy to talk to and now we’re talking every day and i might have a tiny little crush on you even tho  i don’t even know your name’ plot”

 goddamn its another shippy wlw plot apparently that’s all my tag is but this post

“known for being rebels without cause, MUSE A and MUSE B are synonymous to their fast cars, nights out beneath the stars, empty bottles of alcohol, and loud music. they meet by chance one night and immediately click, and embark on a careless adventure after it despite not knowing each other. it’s them against the world: after all, what could go wrong ?”

any of these sad sour unrequited love plots

‘we take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me bc you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ au

‘I accidentally dropped you while you were crowd surfing and you broke your ankle and now I feel responsible so I’m carrying you out of the moshpit’ au

walked in on my roommate and you screwing except i know you from class and i freaked out a little

i was hustling you in pool for money but you were hustling me for free drinks so who’s the real winner here?

bridgot goes to strip clubs n peep shows like every day, cos she’s writing about the history of pornographic film n its basically research for her, so if ur characters would be into strip clubs they might see her there

i feel like she’d be on student council if they had one of those. shes that kind of bitch, turning up like elle woods with a big feather pen or a light-up heart marker, slamming down some truths before upping and leaving to go for her 11am chai latte break

som1 who attended the art institute in marfa for a summer n maybe knew her when she was a bit younger ??? idk

drama. angst. horror. also nice bike rides in amsterdam please

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!

[escapetocanada]

Week One on the Job

I’ve finished my first week at the new job! I’m working on a hospitalist geriatric unit at Vancouver General Hospital. Its a locked unit and most of the patients have some degree of dementia. I’m a causal worker, which means I only work on an as-needed basis but I’ve got this job for the whole month of March. I share an office with two other women and the three of us all work together on discharge planning. The other two women both have nursing backgrounds and they handle setting up all the outpatient care, home care and facility placements (of which there are much fewer, I’ll get into that in a minute), my role is mostly assessing patients and families to see how they’re coping both in and out of the hospital and identifying resource needs. Its a lot less time on the phone than at Hopkins and I haven’t had to talk to any insurance reps, which I don’t miss at all, but its different working primarily with dementia patients. A lot of the patients (not all) have had long, happy, relatively healthy lives and are now just at the end of their life. Its different than working with patients who have been sick for much of their life, or have had very difficult lives, or all of the above. Of course there are still some patients like that as well, but much fewer than what I’m used to.

Ok, now for the nitty gritty social work stuff. Social work friends, this is for you! First of all, APS and guardianship cases are a whole different ballgame up here. I still don’t totally understand everything but basically there’s something called the Adult Guardianship Act that allows a person to be brought to and held in the hospital if they are being abused, neglected or self neglecting and are deemed to be unable to seek support and assistance on their own. There’s a similar act called the Mental Health Act that allows for someone with a mental illness to be brought and held in the hospital in order to prevent “substantial mental or physical deterioration”; they don’t have to be considered a danger to themselves or others. Basically its easier to hold people against their will in the hospital if they aren’t taking care of themselves. Also there are no APS workers like in the US, the social workers at the hospital do the investigation and determine if there is abuse, neglect, or self neglect and arrange for follow-up community care. So there’s no sitting on the phone for an hour and a half describing the extend of an 80lb patient’s wounds to try to get someone to fucking show up and start an investigation. They still have capacity assessments, which are pretty much the same as in the US, and if a person lacks capacity than a decision maker has to be appointed and if there is no surrogate decision maker the court will appoint a public guardian, so that’s all the same, but its interesting to see a system that allows for a lot more power on the part of the healthcare professionals to determine what is best for the patient. There was a recent case in BC where a woman was held against her will in the hospital for a year due to suspicions by the hospital staff that the woman, who was intellectually disabled, was being sexually abused. In that case the hospital also didn’t disclose to the patients family that she was being held in the hospital, so they didn’t know where she was (which is legal) and the hospital denied the patient access to a lawyer (which is not legal). So that’s a pretty bad example of the system over reaching, but on the other hand you don’t have to wait for APS to get around to investigating cases and if someone is self neglecting to the point of nearly killing themselves you can more easily try to intervene. I’ll have to see it in action more before I decide if I think its a better system or not. As someone who leans pretty heavily on the side of patient autonomy I’m a bit suspicious, but I’ll see.

But its not all guardianship and neglect cases, thank god, there’s also your regular discharges. Remember when I said there aren’t a lot of facility placements? Yeah, there really aren’t! They will keep people in the hospital for a few days or even a week in order for them to get enough PT to go home, and you can get WAY more home care services. Like four times a day! And not just PT/OT and nursing, you can also get home care aids. They do pretty much everything short of 24 hour care to keep people out of facilities. Of course that means its hard to qualify for a facility and when you do qualify you often have to sit on a waitlist for several months (unless you can pay privately to go to a non-subsidized facility, its still a two tiered system) but how many times did I have someone tell me they’d literally rather die than go to a nursing home? And there’s no sending people to facilities for IV antibiotics either, they do the treatment in the hospital if they can’t go home with a line. Not surprisingly this all means that length of stay is longer, though I don’t have the actual numbers to quote. But people being in the hospital for a few weeks isn’t a big deal and on a 30 bed unit its considered a busy day when six people get discharged.

Now about those 30 beds. Capacity is a problem. My first day on the unit we had 37 people on what should be a 30 bed unit. They have two to three people in a room unless someone is on isolation precautions. That’s not every unit of course, their palliative unit for example is all private rooms, but it definitely seems like things are more crowded.

The biggest difference, though, is a shocker. Like my jaw almost dropped. Someone had briefly mentioned it in my interview but it was so unbelievable that I didn’t even process the sound. Two words: paper charts. They have paper fucking charts. There are HANDWRITTEN NOTES! Just how impractical is this? Well, only one person can read notes on a patient at a time, and if someone locks a chart in their office on accident no one can read that patients notes or add more notes to the record. Plus, again, some of the notes are hand written, which for all practical purposes means they might as well not be written at all since they are completely illegible (I type all my notes because I’ve seen my handwriting and even I can’t read it and lets not even get started on my spelling). And do you want to find the social work assessment note from three admissions ago? Have fun finding that in medical record! Its truly insane, like going back in time. I’ve been told an electronic system is coming next year, but wow. I have no words.

One more super nerdy social work thing and then I promise I’ll end this post. Folks might remember that one of my favorite things to do at Hopkins was to tell the residents what a Medicaid spenddown is and then watch the horror wash over their faces. They don’t do that here! When you go to a nursing facility you do have to pay a portion of the cost, but the portion you pay is based on your INCOME not your ASSETS. So you don’t have to burn through all your savings when you go to a facility, you just have to pay a percentage (and I think its a pretty high percentage, like 80%) of your earned income, and if that would be considered a financial hardship you can apply for a reduced rate. So people aren’t signing over their whole social security checks to assisted living facilities either. This all applies to government subsidized facilities, of course. Like I said above you can pay privately for services and I’m sure private pay services are often better, but the point is that people who can’t afford to do that aren’t left with nothing. Its pretty great.

Those paper charts though...

[thelifetimechannel]

JAKE: Hello there ms kanaya! KANAYA: Hello KANAYA: Jake Right JAKE: Thatd be me! The one and only! JAKE: Or the one and only now haha. JAKE: So uh... weve not had a chance to talk yet. JAKE: Cool chainsaws? KANAYA: Thanks KANAYA: I Had A Lot Of Time To Alchemize More And Better Chainsaws During My First Session KANAYA: It Was A Good Way To Be Passive Aggressive I Think JAKE: If you displayed them on your wall itd make for one hell of a first impression. Imagine being like the dad in the movies whos sitting on the porch polishing his shotgun when his daughters new boyfriend comes over. JAKE: Though ive never heard of anyone displaying chainsaws in the first place... KANAYA: I Will Install Several Pedestals For That Exact Purpose With Tasteful Backlighting KANAYA: They Are Probably Too Heavy To Hang On Most Walls I Wouldnt Want To Cause An Accident JAKE: I say go for it! I think it sounds like the bees pajamas. KANAYA: I Dont Know About The Fashion Predilections Of Insects But Alright KANAYA: I Dont Think Youll Need To Display Weapons Provocatively To Intimidate Potential Suitors If Reports Of Your Recent Activities Are To Be Believed KANAYA: Our Hope Hero Styled Himself Formidable But I See Now He Barely Scratched The Surface Of The Aspects Capabilities KANAYA: Most Of Which I Accidentally Awoke In Him Anyway KANAYA: Which Is A Lesson To Never Be Facetious If Youre Not Willing To Put Up Your Dukes About It So To Speak JAKE: Yeah i learned that the hard way. JAKE: Sometimes you really do just need to tell your problems to fuck off! Whether or not you actually punch them in the face. KANAYA: I Am One Of An Elite Few Who Has Not Faced Off Against An "Evil Clone" Yet KANAYA: Im Almost Disappointed JAKE: Maybe some day? KANAYA: One Day I Enter My Hall Of Chainsaws Only To See One Pedestal Is Empty KANAYA: I Look Down The Hallway And See An Ominous Shadow Advancing KANAYA: The Shadow KANAYA: Its Me JAKE: Like youll get your own version of venom or manbat or something whos your vampire nature run amok! JAKE: ...i did hear correctly right that youre a vampire? KANAYA: Our Term Is Rainbow Drinker But The Idea Is The Same KANAYA: Im Trying To Reform JAKE: Aha. A vegetarian vam- er, rainbow drinker? KANAYA: Vegetables Are Pretty Great KANAYA: Ive Lived On Donations But The Whole Thing Is Kind Of Ridiculous KANAYA: The Sort Of Arrangement That Looks Intriguing And Romantic In Storybooks But In Real Life Is Kind Of A Pain In The Neck JAKE: Literally! KANAYA: I Walked Into That One Didnt I KANAYA: I Was Hoping We Could Edge Gingerly Around That Obvious Pitfall But Instead We Are Charging In At Full Speed JAKE: You made a dive for the window but alas that spotless pane was stronger than anticipated. KANAYA: Im Used To It KANAYA: The Individuals I Traveled With Would Leave No Conversational Stone Unturned Without Wresting Every Wriggling Wordplay Grub From Its Snug Cocoon JAKE: You were with dave and rose right? KANAYA: Yes KANAYA: And Karkat And Terezi KANAYA: And The Clown JAKE: I cant speak for your fellow aliens but for your human companions i daresay it runs in their family. JAKE: Roxy can do incredible things to typos so watch your spelling around her. KANAYA: Spelling Is An Important Part Of Our Brand On Alternia But Ill Watch My Step JAKE: I mean alien typing quirks is a concept im familiar with thanks to the cherubs. Im more talking about bungling the spelling of the words themselves. KANAYA: Understood KANAYA: If There Are Genetic Similarities Between That Group Does That Mean You Take After Those Dreaming On Prospit KANAYA: I Havent Interacted Much With John But I Did Help Guide Jade Through Her Breeding Session KANAYA: That May Not Be Long Enough To Establish True Closeness But Its My Best Frame Of Reference JAKE: As a matter of fact i do. JAKE: ...though the only time ive seen the planet with my own eyes was a few hours ago and i had higher priorities than enjoying the sights. JAKE: Like not leaving my soul flapping in the wind or beating the snot out of the maniac who stole its original getup. KANAYA: Ill Try To Draw Independent Conclusions Based On Your Behavior Rather Than Trying To Match You Up To Any Of Your Ancestors Or Descendants Then KANAYA: Im Not Used To Meeting This Many People KANAYA: Or Any People KANAYA: Fives Been A Crowd JAKE: A feeling i know very very well... JAKE: I mean i seem to remember you were there when we all came across each other in the dreambubbles! KANAYA: In The Dreambubbles KANAYA: ... KANAYA: You Were The One There When We Met The Empresss Previous Form KANAYA: The One Who KANAYA: Uh KANAYA: Attempted To Defeat Her Ghost In A Bout Of Fisticuffs JAKE: Yes. JAKE: That. JAKE: Haha... man that was embarassing in hindsight. KANAYA: If It Makes Any Difference She Was So Addled By The Revelation Of Her Tyrannical Supremacy I Dont Think She Noticed JAKE: Possibly. KANAYA: Actually It Provided Good Conversational Fodder KANAYA: Any Topic Becomes Stale Given Enough Sweeps To Mull It Over So New Stimulation Was Welcome KANAYA: When Dave And Rose Were Together She Frequently Tried To Draw Him Into Speculation About Your Characters KANAYA: He Never Liked To Engage For Some Reason JAKE: That was the first time id been around that many people in my life! JAKE: So i guess that added pressure to impress in a sense. KANAYA: I Grew Up Alone On An Oasis KANAYA: The First Time I Ran Into Crowds Was During This Game JAKE: Likewise! Except it was an island not an oasis. JAKE: That seems to be a trend doesnt it? KANAYA: Jade Told Me Something Similar KANAYA: Maybe Its Easier To Leave The World Behind Without A Second Thought If You Had Fewer Ties To It JAKE: I couldnt agree with you more though its sort of sad when you stop and think about it. JAKE: The game seems to take a lot of lonely chaps doesnt it? JAKE: Or... maybe it sets them up that way. KANAYA: Believe Me As Someone Charged With The Creation Of Life In Our New World The Prospect Weighs On Me KANAYA: Enough To Take Rose Up On An Offer Most Would Consider Suicidal KANAYA: But Then Most Of Her Schemes Are JAKE: O: JAKE: What is it rose is plotting? KANAYA: Oh Hasnt She Gotten To You Yet KANAYA: She Will KANAYA: Especially With Your Capabilities KANAYA: Im Not Clear On The Details Yet But Im Sure Those Will Come In Eventually KANAYA: Probably In The Heat Of The Moment If Our Other Adventures Are Any Indication KANAYA: Mostly It Involves Defying The Status Quo KANAYA: Which Is What Almost Everything She Has Done Since Ive Met Her Boils Down To JAKE: I mean she did help us get calliope back so if theres something she needs me to do id be happy to help lend a hand! KANAYA: I Believe Shes Intending To Bring It Up To The Group Once Weve Finished This Round Of Discussions KANAYA: So Youll Hear About It Then JAKE: Oh boy more mysterious plots. Look i may be a guy whos always eager for the next adventure or whatever but id like to propose a motion that we at least get a siesta first. JAKE: Three super over the top throwdowns in the space of a few hours tuckers a guy out! KANAYA: I Will Back You Up On That KANAYA: If We Bundle Her Up Well Enough She Will Be Unable To Escape And Will Be Forced To Give In To Relaxation JAKE: My grandma used to do that when i was a wee tyke and didnt want to go down for naps. KANAYA: Good Then Youre Familiar With The Technique JAKE: We just need a person three to four times her size and itll be a snap! JAKE: Oh hey jade can handle that. KANAYA: Now That I Have Restored Her First Guardian Abilities I Will Ask That Her First Action Be Restraining Rose For Her Own Good Before She Hurts Herself JAKE: Sounds like a smart idea but given what ive heard of her im not about to volunteer to be the first in her sights. KANAYA: Would Deaths Incurred Be Heroic KANAYA: Im New To These Rules JAKE: Im... not sure. JAKE: Perhaps its best not to chance it. KANAYA: Hopefully We Can Talk Her Into Taking A Short Break JAKE: Surely even a god tier has to take a load off every now and again. JAKE: Unless rose just runs on anarchic fervor and dreams. KANAYA: I Wouldnt Put It Past Her JAKE: Well calm her down and then help her out with her next revolution.

[spitelout]

As that makes sense, thank you for answering my questions! => Hmm this one might be a weird one but if when the gang have a run in with a new dragon who's breath has the ability to de-age anything it touches for a limited amount of time, how would Spitelout react to his son conning back a toddler again and staying that way for a few days? Espicially if his now toddler son would want/need his attention so often?

He would be unbelieving at first, then angry, it would probably take him a bit to realize Baby Snotlout doesn’t have his memory intact, hes just a baby again….Then he would fall right back into his old dad ways, making silly noises while trying to teach him how to use his bludgeon properly all over.

Because what greater pride is there in the Jorgensen family than to train the young to be just as good as their parents =3

He probably isn’t the most responsible parent, however. I mean…neither was Stoick, they both gave their children deadly weapons as their first gifts.

He was probably rougher than most people, I can see him putting Snotlout with Terrible Terrors to make them play fight and then beaming with pride over any scars the toddler might receive in the tussle.However, I can also see him reassuring the toddler as they cry that this is a good thing, that they will grow into a strong warrior and be able to tell the tale of when they beat a dragon as a baby. (In fact, I think thats where the idea of Stoick killing a dragon with his bare hands as a baby came from…exaggerated scar stories. It probably happened about the same way….with a Terrible Terror.)

Tbh, if such an event occurred, Hookfang would probably have to take over caring for the reborn Snotlout because I just dont believe Spitelout is capable of being a responsible adult with babies, he doesn’t understand how fragile they ARE compared to what they CAN BE.He, among other vikings in the tribe, were probably the type to put several babies in a ring and watch them fight.Vikings are communal - even in parenting, so its possible he often left Snotlout with anyone willing to watch him….The twins parents come to mind - which is probably why they spend so much time together as teens as well, they were raised together.However, its possible Snotllouts mother died later in his life and she raised him until he was able to walk and follow his father around. Perhaps she raised the tins as well - they do mention they’re orphans, but -shrugs- their pasts are pretty clouded in mystery too.

Unfortunately, with this in mind, the twins would probably convince Spitelout to let them watch baby Snotlout for a bit and…I think we can all guess how that would go.

Lets just hope Hookfang isn’t affected by this as well, bc that baby is going to need a guardian angel - especially a five ton angel of fangs and flame

Also , since your ask was so specific, heres a sorta drabble based around it.

————————————————————————

There are few things that can surprise Spitelout these days, very few, but as the small viking - no, chieftain, Hiccup, stood awkwardly before him, he found himself at a loss. Hiccup was always presenting the tribe with surprises, and now, it seemed, he was presenting a very personal one to him.

Curious, and perhaps a bit bemused by the awkward chieftains shuffling he began the conversation, “What brings the chief of Berk to my door today?”

Hiccup scratched the back of his neck as he looked between the ground and Spitelouts gaze, “Uuuuuuh,” He took a deep breath and let it out, “Spitelout…” There was something heavy on his mind and he didn’t seem to know how to get it out.

“Yes, I am he. go on, boyyo.”

“While we were out exploring the islands, we encountered a dragon we had never seen before, it was amazing, it was - - ” Hiccup never had been the best at getting to the point, but Spitelout let him ramble; the lad really liked his tales, Stoick had too….

Luckily, Astrid stepped in, ah, what a great lass, always straight to the point. “What hes trying to say is, we found a new dragon and Snotlout being Snotlout, well,…” she trailed off, biting her lip as she held out a tightly wrapped bundle towards him, a Snotlouts helm delicately placed atop it.

Spitelout felt his brow furrow as his gaze trailed down to the bundle. There was a tightness in his chest that he refused to acknowledge. Had his boy really gotten himself-

He glanced up as Snotlouts Monstrous Nightmare waddled into view, it seemed anxious, but not particularly upset. Strange, that.

He became plagued with wary curiosity.

“Hes a bit…shorter than when we left this morning,” Astrid continued at last, a light chuckle in her voice,

He took the bundle in one burly hand and gingerly unwrapped it with the other.

He looked back up at the pair, who continued to watch him warily and awkwardly at the same time, he furrowed his brows deeper, trying to decipher what sort of game or joke they were playing at. He looked to them fr answers.

“Spitelout, this- this is your son.”

Spitelout chuckled heartily,  it was just some game they were playing, strange, he always assumed they were different from the twins. “I only ave the one, boyyo, don’t think I could handle anotha.”

“No, Spitelout, that is - this is Snotlout.” Hiccup insisted. “the dragon he battled had this strange…” he struggled to find words, “venom, I guess is the best word for it, that, when inhaled, reverses the aging process and turns people back into younger versions of themselves.”

Spitelout critically searched their faces for the lie, then stared down at the child in his hands, it looked back at him with familiar grey eyes.

“Gothi says theres a cure, but we have to find all the parts.” Hiccup hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Until then, you need to take care of him…”

“Alrigh, Ill play your lil game, ” he sighed good-heartedly. He found it hard to believe such a thing could really happen, “But if ye needed  babysitta, all ye had to do was ask.”

Hiccup began to protest, but Astrid stopped him, pulling him away with one last wary glance behind her and leading him to their dragons.

Spitelout shook his head as their shadows vanished in the horizon, it seemed the pair still had a ways to go before they became parents of their own. He looked back down at the child and wiggled his fingers near their face making silly noises as he did so. The child gripped his fingers tightly, and a seed of doubt entered his mind.

—————

He was angry at first, pacing the room as the Monstrous Nightmare coiled itself around the child and watched him carefully he didn’t doubt that the thing would light the entire archipelago on fire just to protect Snotlout, but he wasn’t concerned by its low rumble.

“Ow could you go an be so brash!” he scolded loudly, “I ave told yew time and time again, ye cant jus rush in blind!”

“Now, Look at ye! Reduced to - to this! Well I ave news fer yew, Im not changing that diaper. Yew can change it yerself!”

The child sniffled, a cry beginning to bark from their throat.

“Oh don’t start yer cryin, Ive told ye about this before. Were Jorgensens! We don’t cry! We make other people cry!”  he tried to sound harsh, but there was a softness edging into his voice as tears streamed down the childs face.

The Monstrous Nightmare was growling now, a full fledged snarl that bared every single dagger-point fang in his head.

“Oi don’t ye start! Where were yewwhen this happened anyway?”

The dragon bulked at the accusation and simmered back into a low rumble.

Spitelout sighed as the childs screams ripped through his home. He wasn’t angry, he was frustrated, frustrated at himself.

Freya help him, he couldn’t raise a child alone.

Ignoring the dragon he plucked Snotlout from its coils and sang him the Jorgensen lullaby.

————————————————–

“its just wee scratch,” he reassured his son as the toddler screeched and flailed away from the terrible Terror. “Hopefully it will scar and then yewll have a story to tell when ye get older!”

The baby sniffled unconvinced, but curious. 

“Ye can tell em you got it grappling a berserker who tried ta kidnap the prodigy of the Jorgensens!”

The baby lit up as his father articulated this cheerily with his hands.

“But no one kin take a Jorgensen from the place he calls home, no one!”

————————————————————————

He was happy to play father again, really he was, up until day three had passed and neither Astrid nor Hiccup had returned.

He was a busy man, incredibly busy, and also incredibly tired.

Did babies normally cry this much?

Spitelout did his best to comfort the babe, but it didnt seem Snotlout understood how great it was to be a Jorgensen, couldn’t see what a great warrior he would be one day….had been….

———————————————

There was a ruckus upstairs, a series of dragon shrieks and the smell of burning wood. There were startled screams and the screams of a woken baby.

Spitelout rushed upstairs, ax at the ready as he prepared to defend his son.

the screaming stopped when he got halfway up, the house became eerily quiet, and chill went through him followed by a burning in his gut. Whatever was up there better have prayed to whatever god they believed in that no harm had come to his son.

Voices reached his ears, soft but with an annoying edge to it, the twins.

“Hes so cute now that he cant hit us~” Tuffnut purred as he let the small Snotlout play with his braids.

“Yea, and now that he cant talk!” Ruffnut laughed.

“Oh, hey, Spitey” Tuffnut noted blankly, unapologetic in the damage they had caused. “Mind if we take Snotlout out for a midnight flight?”

————————————–

Edit: Annnnnd sorry but I ran out of juice here. -shrugs loudly- Its 1 am, I spent too much time on this as is. X3

[117--087]

Two Hundred And Four Reasons

Spartan-117 & Spartan-087

[Preface] // [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Part 5] // [Part 6] // [Part 7]

With this past month marking the 4-year anniversary of this blog, I was somewhat at a loss as to what to do to commemorate the occasion...until I remembered there was one more thing I could post as an addendum to my essay series chronicling the development of John-117 and Kelly-087′s relationship throughout Halo canon. There were a few additional pieces of media featuring SPARTAN-II Blue Team that were released in the wake of 2015′s ‘Halo 5: Guardians’ that I think are worth taking a quick look at in regards to how they carry on the tradition of highlighting the bond between a certain Blue-One and Blue-Two.

Through All These Years

The first of the two is an animated miniseries (though more akin to a motion-comic) that loosely adapts the content of both the novel ‘The Fall of Reach’ and its comic book counterpart (which I’ve previously discussed). Like the comic before it though, this miniseries includes a few minor details that differ from the original source text in interesting ways.

The second is a short story from the comic anthology ‘Tales From Slipspace’, called “On The Brink”, and features some panels and dialogue that I feel are very relevant to the content I’ve analyzed so far in regards to Kelly-087′s character and her dynamic with John-117.

We’ll start with the ‘Fall of Reach’ miniseries. Most notably, the animation is bookended by a rather touching scene involving Blue Team returning to the glassed surface of the planet Reach (some time in between late-2557 and mid-2558) in order to hold a private memorial for Samuel-034. But I’ll get back to this after looking at the body of the animation’s content.

To preface: it is worth noting that the animation includes Fred-104 and Linda-058 in events at which they are not canonically present - mainly the “ring the bell” exercise as part of John-117′s team, and as participants in the assault on the Unrelenting in 2525. This was done in order to better familiarize a general audience with them as characters and the roles on Blue Team they would eventually come to fill in the years after the Spartan-IIs’ training in actual Halo canon.

Unlike the comic book version of ‘The Fall of Reach’s events, this miniseries does make sure to include the crucial lesson that John-117 learns from Chief Mendez after putting himself first during the trainees’ initial obstacle course exercise.

“You don’t win unless your team wins.”

Much like in the novelization though, Kelly in particular takes a stand against John’s selfish behavior before he proves he is willing to make amends for his mistake and commit to being a team player.

After the young members of Blue Team reconcile, we are then shown the Spartan-IIs’ wilderness training exercise that takes place two years later. And, in a new addition to this part of the story, we see Sam make a pit-stop to carve the symbol of an eagle and a lightning bolt (which would later become Blue Team’s insignia) into a tree in commemoration of the group’s friendship as John and Kelly look on and consider their next move. As described in ‘The Fall of Reach’, Kelly is noticeably taller than John as a child, which is a small detail I appreciate being included in the animation.

From here things follow the comic adaption pretty closely through the augmentation procedures and the Spartans’ first official mission to Eridanus Secundus to capture insurrectionist Colonel Robert Watts. A few nice asides are made throughout the entire animation where the members of Blue Team casually converse like normal teenagers (making jokes, encouraging one another, offering advice, invitations to do activities, etc.) when not directly engaged in mission-relevant dialogue. So it is good to see this kind of additional humanization of the S-IIs based off of what has long been established about them in Eric Nylund’s books.

Finally the last section of the miniseries is narrated by Kelly-087 herself in flashback (with Michelle Lukes reprising her role from ‘Halo 5: Guardians’), which covers the Spartan-IIs receiving their first sets of MJOLNIR Armor and Sam’s death at the hands of the revealed alien Covenant.

Without quoting every line she says, I will simply say this portion of the animation is well worth watching just for Kelly’s commentary. After Blue Team is outfitted with their suits of Mk. IV armor on Chi Ceti, we come to the Spartans’ infiltration of the Covenant ship Unrelenting. In a small departure from the novel and the comic book, Kelly is actually pulled aboard the vessel by John just as she is about to fly off into space - and though I doubt it was intentional, I find it is an interesting reverse-parallel to what we see in the ‘Halo Legends’ animated short “The Package” all the same.

From here events proceed in general accordance with canon, with Sam’s armor eventually breached by a plasma bolt after being shot while pushing John out of the line of fire. Once Blue Team makes it to the ship’s reactor, they hold off a few waves of Covenant while reading the bomb they brought with them to destroy it. John and Kelly work in tandem as Blue-One and Blue-Two; and in an amusing exchange of roles at one point, we see Kelly take charge of the situation and sprint across the bridge to shut the doors leading to the reactor room while ordering John to complete the work on the nuke.

“I’ll seal the door. John, finish arming that warhead!”

“I remember thinking that no matter how dark the future, we could face it as a team.”

However, as we all know, things reach a breaking point when Sam admits that he has to stay behind on the ship due to the irreparable damage to his armor. This part of Nylund’s book always struck me right in the heart, and the scene here is no exception. This moment is then bolstered by Kelly’s reflection on how this first loss in battle deeply affected not only her and John, but all of Blue Team.

“I know Spartans don't cry...but for once, I was glad for the helmet.”

“We thought training, augmentation, armor made us untouchable, invulnerable, immortal. Blue Team. But we were wrong - we were children. This was the only thing John was ever afraid of: losing one of us. And we knew we weren’t finishing this fight, we were just getting started.”

The animation then ends with the Spartan-IIs visiting the same place Sam originally “carved their mark into the world”. They take a moment to remember their fallen friend and reflect on the meaning of his heroic sacrifice, as the Chief sincerely asks his remaining comrades if they will continue to have faith in him to lead them through whatever lies ahead.

“Last time we were here, I asked Sam to trust me to take us home, to follow me. Will you trust me now? Will you follow me?”

...which plays perfectly into the next section of this write-up.

"On the Brink” is a short comic featuring Blue Team that was relased as part of the ‘Tales From Slipspace’ anthology book in the fall of last year. It takes place in 2558 and is a fairly self-contained story about one of the Spartans’ many exploits after their reunion in 2557. Specifically, they are looking to stop a Mammoth that has been hijacked by some splinter-Covenant from running into a UNSC nuclear reactor. Once again the events are overlayed with a narration by Kelly-087.

The 12-page comic can be viewed in its entirety here. And while it is brief and rather straightforward in terms of the story’s content, there are a few panels that I would like to take a closer look at. Most prominently, this section where Kelly muses on the steadfastness of the Chief’s leadership.

I love How Kelly notes that even though she’s dog-tired and in the middle of a violent firefight, hearing the voice of her best friend is all it takes to renew her focus, confidence, and determination to complete the mission - in a way nothing else can. For his part, John continues to rely Kelly to back him up and talks to her throughout the operation even as her discovery of some civilian scientists aboard the Mammoth forces him to make a risky evasive maneuver in order to save them. And honestly I don’t know what could speak more for the strength of the bond that these two characters have and the kind of trust they have in each other.

After the massive vehicle finally comes to a complete stop, the reactor remains intact and some extensive property damage to the surrounding area is the only fallout of the Covenant attack on the UNSC base. This does not appease the site’s foreman however, and he confronts Blue Team. John keeps his cool while Fred reacts angrily in turn to the man’s disrespect and thankless attitude. Kelly looks on, and can’t help but wonder when John will finally grow weary of the tumultuous and unsure environment the Spartan-IIs have found themselves mired in in the wake of the Human-Covenant War.

The end of this story presents us with quite the conundrum from Kelly’s point of view. Because while she will always support John and believe wholeheartedly in his ability to triumph over adversity, her final thoughts reveal that she does indeed recognize that for all the ways he’s remained stalwart he still has limits too. Just like the rest of them. Which once again works to emphasize how human these characters still are.

These pieces of media continue to paint the same picture of these characters that we have gotten for the last 15+ years: two people who have grown together over a lifetime of experiencing all manner of hardships and yet they maintain a healthy mutual relationship based in respect and honest care. How this may come into play later in the series after the events of ‘Halo 5: Guardians’ remains to be seen, but for now it is good to at least have a few more moments to add to John-117 and Kelly-087′s catalog of positive representation.

[stacks-reviews]

New Releases 7/24/27

Happy New Release Day!

In Books --The Backstagers volume 1 by James Tynion IV and illustrated by Rian Sygh “All the world’s a stage...but what happens behind the curtain is pure magic literally! When Jory transfers to an all-boys private high school, he is taken in by the only ones who don’t treat him like a new kid, the lowly stage crew known as the Backstagers. Not only does he gain great, lifetime friends, Jory is also introduced to an entire magical world that lives beyond the curtain. With the unpredictable twists and turns of the underground world, the Backstagers venture into the unknown, determined to put together the best play their high school has ever seen.”

I love everything about this. I hope it’ll be as good as it sounds. I mean, a magical boy band. Or at least a boy band that will travel to a magical world. What’s not to like.

--Daughter of the Burning City by Amanda Foody The Gomorrah Festival is a traveling carnival of debauchery, catering to the strangest of dreams and desires. Sorina has spent most of her life on the borders of the festival as an illusion-worker, the only one to be born in hundreds of years. She creates illusions that you can see, feel and touch, that even have personalities. Sorina’s creations are like her family even though she knows that they are not truly real. At least until one of them is murdered. Desperate to save her family Sorina will venture into the most sinister corners of the Festival to unravel the horrifying truth.

I started thinking about Cirque de Freak by Darren Shan the moment I read the description. Purely because of a creepy carnival. I’ve never read that series by him but I have read a few books of his series The Demonata. 

I’m really enjoying Sorina’s illusion powers. I like how she can make them touchable. I’m already debating if she might somehow be summoning her ancestors, maybe even pulling people from other dimensions, or just being so creative that she can create almost anything and make it real. Or even unknowingly putting a bit of herself into each creation, giving them life that they may grow and develop on their own. Either way it sounds like it would be pretty good. I’m curious to see what all powers might reside deeper in the carnival. And just what kind of power is able to kill illusions.

--Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju volume 2 by Haruko Kumota Yotaro has been accepted as Yakumo’s apprentice and a member of his household. Taking in this young man forces Yakumo to confront his past and promises that were left unfulfilled. He thinks of his friend and rival, Sukeroku. He remembers growing up in a Japan changing after the war. And of a woman named Miyokichi.

The second volume of the manga that the hit anime of the same name is based on. Although this series is about Yotaro and Konatsu (a woman who would like to perform rakugo but is stopped by her legal guardian; Yakumo, because he believes in the old style that prevents woman from peforming rakugo) learning rakugo and performing. It is also a tale of Yakumo as he confronts his past.

--Fairy Tail volume 61 by Hiro Mashima “The meaning of family. As the most powerful wizards of Fairy Tail face off against the remaining members of The Twelve, their hearts, relationships, and skills will be put to the test. The battle between Erza and Irene reaches an emotional conclusion, Gray shows how far he’s willing to go to save his dearest friends, and the love of a father sparks a shocking revelation from August. As Natsu and Zeref’s showdown approaches, both enemies and friends must ask themselves who their true family is!”

Honestly, I have fallen behind on Fairy Tail. The last volume I read was 54. I’m slowly trying to catch back up. It’s not that I don’t like the series anymore, although I don’t know if I could still call it one of my top current favorites. I had to cut back due to when I left one of my part-time jobs. Although the one I kept had fewer hours, it allowed me to focus on college and my homework more. I don’t really know what is going on currently, except for the fact that it is near the end of the final arc. I want to be all caught up by the time the final volume; 63, comes out. 

--First We Were IV by Alexandra Sirowy “It started for pranks, fun, and forever memories. A secret society - for the four of us. The rules: Never Lie. Never tell. Love each other. We made the pledge and danced under the blood moon on the meteorite in the orchard. In the spot we found the dead girl five years earlier. And discovered the ancient drawings way before that. Nothing could break the four of us apart - I thought. But then, others wanted in. Our seaside town had secrets. History. We wanted revenge. We broke the rules. We lied. We told. We loved each other too much, not enough, and in ways we weren’t supposed to. Our invention ratcheted out of control. What started as a secret society, ended as justice. Revenge. Death. Rebellion.”

The first time I looked this book up, I wasn’t too crazy. Labeled it as a maybe. I don’t know if Goodreads had a different description or if I just liked it more the second time around. It sounds like it could be a pretty good mystery. My guess right now, is that by creating IV they might have gotten the idea from a old group who called themselves the same. And somehow in the process maybe committed some kind of magic ritual that maybe activated some old ghosts from the previous group. I hope it has something to do with an ancient civilization.

--Generation Witch volume 1 by Isaki Uta One percent of the population is made up of witches. Some look up to witches, some envy them. But these abilities can sometimes be more of a curse than a blessing, as any witch knows. Growing up requires a lot of luck and effort for a teenager, so what happens when you throw spirits, magic, and broomsticks into the mix?

I couldn’t really find any information regarding this manga other than the description. It appears to be pretty new. It sounds like a cute coming of age story and it kind of makes me think of Flying Witch; which I have neither seen nor read but I would like to, and Kiki’s Delivery Service. In terms of a young witch trying to learn her craft throughout her day to day life. 

--Strange Practice (paperback) by Vivian Shaw Greta Helsing uses her family’s highly specialized, and highly peculiar, medical practice as a doctor to the undead. Keeping the supernatural community not-alive in London has been the Helsing’s specialty for generations. She treats vocal strain in banshees, arthritis in barrow-wights, and entropy in mummies. It’s a quiet, supernatural-adjacent life Greta’s been groomed into since childhood. Quiet until a group of murderous monks appears, killing human and undead Londoners. It’s up to Greta to use her unusual skills to stop the cult if she hopes to save her practice and her life.

I’m a fan of seeing supernatural creatures just trying to live their lives. Where not all of them are necessarily evil. Some just want to live. I’m gonna point the blame at Inuyasha on this one cause I think that’s the first place I ever ran across the idea of not all monsters are evil. I think. Plus, I just like seeing the twist of a Helsing helping supernatural creatures instead of hunting them.

In Movies --Gifted A story of a man raising his very intelligent niece after her mother died so that she may live an ordinary life. His mother finds out where they live, believes her granddaughter’s talents are being wasted, and tries to gain custody of her. 

It was a really cute story starring Chris Evans. And Mckenna Grace was adorable as Mary. I loved their characters relationship in the film. It was a very touching movie.

--Ghost in the Shell This entry will contain some spoilers at the end about the end of the movie. You have been warned.

The live action adaptation of the amazing manga, anime film, and anime series. On IMDb the description of the live action version is as follows: “In the near future, Major is the first of her kind: A human saved from a terrible crash, who is cyber-enhanced to be a perfect soldier devoted to stopping the world’s most dangerous criminals”

Really just putting this up because I’ll be getting it someday to be able to finish my collection. That’s about it. The effects of this movie were very well done. I really appreciated the fact that there were references to each form of this series. I remember seeing scenes that I know were only in the manga, some scenes that were in the original film, some scenes from S.A.C., and some nods to Arise. I had some issues with what they did to the story. I love GitS. The anime is easily one of my top favorites and I have a lot of respect and love towards Major Motoko Kusanagi. I tried my very best to see the movie as its own universe. Easy enough since each form has been its own universe. But there were just some things here and there that I couldn’t get past. Which I could go into all the details but that should probably be on a post more dedicated to it. But I will mention that I was slightly disappointed that she was not shot in the head at the end. In each other version, that happened at least once. And they ruined my OTP. Due to plot, I gathered that the Major is really aged somewhere between 16 and 18. While Batou looks like he’s in his 30′s. I can’t approve of it. They ruined my ship in this version and for that I will never forgive them.

[luminescentlyricist]

∞ The Anarchist ∞

"I wis)( t)(at I could be t)(ere wit)( t)(em. I could argue t)(at my fate, being stuck in t)(is cod dam violet )(ive, is so muc)( worse t)(an t)(eir dead session. As wrong as I'd be, it'd make for conversation... t)(oug)(, I doubt any of t)(em would agree wit)( me on t)(e subject. I'm a spoilt brat, and I s)(ould know t)(at I )(ave absolutely no rig)(t to say anyt)(ing on t)(e subject, but I'm just so, so sick of everyt)(ing. Posessing no freedom turns out to become more stifling t)(an it seems at a first glance. I )(ave everyt)(ing I could ever want, except for freedom."

She grumbled as she stared at the blackened screen of her husktop, a cleaning cloth clutched between her fingers as she rubbed at it. Cirlun was often prone to such rambles, especially when she was feeling isolated. Of course, she felt this way constantly, as she was isolated from the majority of civilization. Her Trollian didn't even have any contacts on it yet. She was cleaning the screen of her husktop because dust had settled on it, due to the fact that she really had no use for it if her Trollian contact list was empty. She preferred the proper books in the library when it came to research.

She sighed softly, the noise barely moving past her lips at all. Cirlun knew that she'd never be able to meet the expectations that had been placed upon her, and she intended to rewrite and reform those rules and expectations when she ascended to the throne. It was only right. She couldn't live up to what the world intended, so she knew that she had to make the change. For now, she'd be doomed to suffer in silence. And that was how it had always, always been. Her intent to change would have to wait until she worked up the courage to... She couldn't even think of killing Astril. The mere notion was upsetting, especially because she was so young. It felt immoral. The violet dyed across the fabrics of the hive, visible at her every twist and turn, was important to her. Although she loathed her advisor, in essence, and all-too-commonly felt hatred strong enough to drive her to murder, she didn't. Not yet. The thought was always in the back of her mind, as much as she protested her fated ascensions. She didn't want to commit matricide at all, as the violet blood - and memories of the violetblood - would stain her conscience for the rest of her sweeps.

It was Cirlun's fate, though, and she couldn't argue with that. She knew that the day would come wherein she was forced to kill her advisor to take the throne and lead her subjects into a new era of prosperity. Her hands shook now, that much was clear, and it scared her beyond anything else she'd ever had to experience. The thought of killing Astril haunted her, just as the woman's soulless, rage-filled ghost would undoubtedly do the same. She cleaned the screen in front of her, swallowing harshly as she felt vomit rising in her throat. All she could do was choke it down and continue.

So she did, with no regards to the dark, looming thoughts that plagued and threatened to consume her. Her eyes then swept to the book on the desk beside her, a small frown etching itself onto her lips within seconds. She was overthinking everything. The stain on the cover wasn't even purple, but her thoughts wandered. Old blood could fade to brown, she realised, and that was the colour of the mark on 'Doomed - Stories of the Third Earth'. It, of course, was just one of the many expansive books she was utilising to study the sessions of Earth A, B and C, though that one focused on Earth C.

Envy wreathed around her. Oh, how she wished to be there. She wanted to live with the trolls that were recounted in those pages, the ones that were yellowing with age. She traced the writing on the page that she read, noting the script that she knew very well. They had written using the quirks they donned to distinguish each other on Trollian, the very same program that lay open on her husktop. She knew that she had no contacts on it, but didn't bother. The twelve trolls had their own legacies, and that was one thing she'd never had - and would never have - herself.

She had no idea that Eridan, Gamzee, Feferi - her own role model in a different time - and the rest of the twelve were still 'alive', of course, due to the ageing that appeared on their 'first-hand' accounts. The books had been enchanted ten times over so that any hope the young heiress might have had was appropriately and immediately crushed. She had seen the Amporas at meetings, of course, but had shied away from the aristocrats at every opportunity she had. In the meetings, she was always insignificant and unnoticed anyway.

She traced her finger over the script of the famed ceruleanblood Vriska Serket, whose eight-dominated writing style she had learned to decipher as easily as reading normal Alternian scripts. It was easy enough to get used to, in any case, as it was simplistic. She had noticed that she had adopted a sort of 'quirk' that she was going to use in her own Trollian-type, a part of which was unintentionally similar to Feferi's. She muttered the words as she read, and she stayed in a trance-like state of reading through the dust-coated tome for hours.

As she read and muttered to herself, though, her thoughts darkened even further, causing her to rub her eyes in irritation and close the book. Her mindset had completely and utterly shifted for the worse. For the better of herself, and herself alone. She realised just how much was being kept from her, and rage began to take control of her actions. Finally, her fuchsiablooded tendencies of anger were awakening, and her treatment at the hands of her advisor would only serve to foster that nature. She stood, fists so tightly furled that they cut into her palms.

Cirlun had realised that she was only going to suffer if Astril took the throne any longer. She hadn't wanted to kill Astril a few hours ago, but that had changed. Everything was going to change if she had her say in the matter. She would. Within a mere second, she had donned her hunting outfit. Her specibus bubble wand was in her hand, and when she blew one, the large, golden double-edged trident was contained within it. With a satisfied smirk crawling onto her lips, she took it and slotted it into its place in the back sheathe.

When she did this, she noted with a sadistic glee the way the gold arced through the light and caught it in flashes so bright it could blind. She'd do far worse than blind, of course. She'd make her 'mother' pay for the pain she had caused. Her breathing was heavy but her steps made no sound against the floor as she moved, light and quick as a shadow. Cirlun could slip away into virtually nothing, due to knowing every shadow and shade in the library. Her isolation had paid off, as she knew every escape.

Many were to be found in the expanse of the palace, and she was grateful now for each and every one. The trident remained in its sheathe. Her snarling lips revealed sharklike teeth that she only possessed due to the fact she was a seadweller. Her eyes swept around, pupils narrowed, seeing everything as if the darkness wasn't beginning to fall. It'd be no fun, she decided, if she were to murder in the dark. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted each and every seadweller she'd rule over to fear her.

Her tyranny was only the start of the ruination, though. She hadn't forgotten what she had to do. How much she had to mould and shape into her own. Violet sickened her. She tore down every draping, every banner, every decoration with the colour of the rest of the seadwellers. The only way she would like the colour was when she smeared it down the walls and marked the murder and the rise of the new empress both. Humming gleefully, far too brightly for what she was going to do, she approached the hall, stepping out into broad light.

"Your comeupance greets you now and forever, mot)(er."

She hissed, eyes dark and full of hatred for the being in front of her. She knew that Astril wouldn't reply; the Empress was far too busy herself doing whatever she needed to do. Her kingdom would be swept up into chaos soon. A soft laugh came from Cirlun's lips, and she walked up to her mother. One thing she had learnt that was different from other trolls was her use - or overuse - of decidedly human mannerisms. For this reason, she embraced her 'mother', hugging her and pinning the royal's arms to her side.

"It is so g∞d to see you, as always, Astril."

She muttered, her voice sweet as syrup. It had always been that way when she had addressed the Empress, and she didn't see why it had to change. She felt the royal stiffen under her arms, and she frowned in faux alarm. Nothing was wrong, surely? She then changed to massaging Astril's tense shoulders gently, her smile remaining as she dug her nails into the flesh of her shoulders. Cirlun's nails gouged into it, and Astril made a muffled sound of discomfort. That was all. She thought nothing of it.

"Relax. All of your stress can melt away. I'll take care of everyt)(ing, and you don't need to move a muscle."

She placed her trident at her side, taking a few deep, slow and calming breaths. She was by no means calm, and wouldn't be for quite a while, but she did it to help herself concentrate more than anything else. Cirlun continued to make her maternal guardian feel as comfortable and pampered as possible in that short amount of time. She didn't want to make her mother's last moments bad ones, as it meant she'd just be an annoyance later on, or her screams would attract more attention. Cirlun bought her trident to the woman's throat quickly.

"I'd rat)(er you didn't move at all."

These words were followed by a quick slash, and that was it.

[samanthasroberts]

Aaron Schoenfeld: the striker who quit MLS and found success in Israel

The lanky striker found life tough in Columbus. But then he moved to the Israeli Premier League, started scoring goals, and has been linked with an Israel call-up

To Aaron Schoenfeld, this right here looks and feels like a rest: Tel Aviv, Israel, to eastern Tennessee. Columbus, Ohio, to Georgia. Parents. Friends. Colleagues. Grandparents. Short stops in familiar locales after a whirlwind first half of the year. A hello here, a goodbye there, as he attempts to cram in as many close ones before the itinerary takes him back to the Middle East. The 26-year-old Knoxville native has barely had a rest since December 2014, and this is it: flitting between states before pre-season training starts back in Tel Aviv on 5 July.

Its been an intriguing 18 months for a striker who was until recently a seldom-seen figure. Indeed, given his job description, his goals even less so. A bit-part player at Columbus Crew, there was little tangible evidence, on paper at least, for what was to come. In 2015, he made just one start and a number of substitute appearances, contributing a single goal for the Black and Gold. Previous campaigns, too, portrayed a similar level of return.

Then there was January. And, of all soccer outposts, Israel. The scene was set. Schoenfeld, fresh from a Florida vacation with teammates and the offer of a contract renewal from Columbus on the table, rolls up in the Holy Land at lowly Maccabi Netanya. The Israeli footballing public is bemused. The goalscoring stats, it seems, dont lie four MLS seasons, 51 appearances, 14 starts, five goals. Who is this impostor? Just 18 minutes into his career in Israel, after emerging off the bench for his first appearance, the eyes of several of Netanyas rivals start to turn in his direction. But for what? Still there are no goals. Netanya lost. Yet barely given time to blink, before he has even acclimated to a new league and new country, he is purchased by Hapoel Tel Aviv, one of the most successful clubs in the Israeli Premier League. They see something. On the outside, the befuddlement persists. Before heading for Hapoel there were another 90 minutes for Netanya, and still no sign of Schoenfeld on the scoresheet. So goes the superficial eye.

He wasnt to go without a goal for long. The first came in a baptism of fire, his debut, the Tel Aviv derby. From there to the end of the season in May, Schoenfeld went on a minor goalscoring blitz. He managed eight goals in 12 games by the close.

Crazy, remarks Schoenfeld. After 18 minutes. Unheard of. His quick transfer from Netanya, he explains, owed to a need for cash at the club in the face of financial difficulties. But there had been a few suitors. In addition to Hapoel, bitter city rivals Maccabi Tel Aviv were also among those interested in getting him to put pen to paper. Eventual league champions Hapoel Beer Sheva inquired. In the end, he went with Hapoel Tel Aviv under the belief hed have a greater chance of starting every week.

From one vantage point, all bizarre perhaps. Schoenfeld, a lanky striker at 6ft 4in, understands the initial wariness among local fans and media. His record did not look great. But, sprightly and direct, he offers an alternative angle with which to view his sudden rise to prominence.

I found form, he tells the Guardian. As a striker, once you have confidence and you feel comfortable somewhere, its no pressure. And I think the goal I scored in the derby changed everything. Because obviously there was a lot of questions of me coming in there. I knew the fans didnt really understand: How could a player who only scored one goal last year come in, why would we buy him? But I think if you knew the situation at Columbus with me, it was because Im playing behind the best forward in the league [Kei Kamara], whos a freak of nature.

I think I was ready to play. I feel like I developed a lot last year. I just needed the minutes. If you look at my records, I didnt really start much. Probably less than 10 starts in the league. Even last year, I had one start for 90 minutes. I had a total of 220 minutes total. That was it. And one of those games was for 90. So if you take that out its 130 minutes over 17 games, about five minutes of a game left. You run around for five minutes, so I think it was tough. I understand why there would be concerns but I feel like once I get in training and people can see what I offer, it changes things.

The goal in the derby against Maccabi Tel Aviv a club Schoenfeld knocked back and for which there is no love lost among the Hapoel faithful was a watershed moment. The media took notice. In a press conference after the Tel Aviv derby he was asked if hed paid much heed to the more negative press coverage that came before, to which he tersely responded with a stoic visage: Well I cant read Hebrew so it helps me keep away from that stuff. In the same post-game press conference, he was then asked if his joining Hapoel might effectively rob Maccabi of the title. Schoenfeld was cute, telling the reporter he was focused on Hapoels struggle near the Israeli Premier League basement. The record shall state Maccabi missed out on the title and Hapoel survived.

Still, that easy ability to deflect is not unusual in modern sports players schooled in the art of public relations. But theres a breeziness in Schoenfeld that might speak to the chains in Columbus from which he was freed. He referred to the man who stood in his way at Crew, Kamara, as the best striker in MLS. Few would disagree he had a job on his hands wrestling a starting spot from the prolific Sierra Leonean. At Hapoel, he himself quickly became something of a similar focal point in attack. He credits his athleticism as an asset in a more technically adept local scene to the one he was used to in the US.

Such was his form, his name has been mentioned in connection with an Israeli national team call-up. American-born, Schoenfeld comes from a Reform Jewish family. He went to Israel through the states right of return law for those of Jewish ancestry. He continues to pass through the citizenship process, currently possessing a temporary passport. To play for Israel, there may be Fifa hurdles to surmount, too, because he didnt obtain his citizenship through a blood relation. He is in no hurry but welcomes the prospect of turning out for the country. Which raises the question: with the kind of form he showed last season, and were it to continue, what if the US national team set-up came calling?

Its tough, Schoenfeld answers. Obviously if you ask me on the street, what is your nationality? Id tell you Im an American. I identify myself as an American. But if it happens and it comes down to it, its a very tough decision. Both offer completely different things.

He has a similar posture toward his club level future, perhaps mindful of the vicissitudes of soccer. He is happy at Hapoel. Theres the Columbus experience. He has also absorbed a different side of life. Israeli culture. Tel Aviv city life. On another plain, religious devotion in Jerusalem, an awakening moment for him. On another again, on a road trip for an away game, Israeli border life near Lebanon. Not to mention, Schoenfeld is tired.

His agent knows the script. Ive left it at last time we spoke about everything. I was, Look, I want to take time to vacation. I want to clear my head, its been a long run. Because I havent had a break since December of 2014. Because in MLS you had these mini-camps before the season. So by the end of the year, I was mentally fried, my body was fried. When I come back from vacation, well see whats going on, well start evaluating next season. I plan on staying. Well see what happens.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/08/21/aaron-schoenfeld-the-striker-who-quit-mls-and-found-success-in-israel/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/aaron-schoenfeld-the-striker-who-quit-mls-and-found-success-in-israel/

[viralhottopics]

Dont tell me its going to be OK: diary of a Latino teenager in the age of Trump

Angelina Alvarez fought pro-Trump graffiti by wearing a Dump Trump shirt to school. After he won the election, she kept a diary about her life and feelings

When anti-immigrant, anti-Mexican, pro-Trump graffiti began showing up around their California high school, Angelina Alvarez and other Latino students fought back with Dump Trump T-shirts.

After Donald Trump won the US election, the Guardian asked Alvarez, 17, to keep a diary about her life and feelings in this new era.

Election Day 8 November

Trump won I dont even know what to think. Im just scared, I want to be with my grandma right now and just hug her. My grandma that came here as an immigrant, who worked hard, who was able to buy a home, who sent her kids to college, who later became documented. How can people hate someone like her?

Im looking at my friends Snapchat stories and seeing that even a few of my friends are excited that he won. I ask them why they hate themselves. Unsure how to answer, they delete their stories. Im just thinking about all of the families that are going to be affected by this. I pray that we all stay strong and do not back down to any of the obstacles we have ahead of us. It is such a disappointment. Our country is a disappointment.

9 November

It was so uncomfortable at school today I had my classes that have the biggest Trump supporters in my school. They were surprisingly dead silent, all of them. They didnt look at me and I didnt really look at them. I wonder why they were so quiet though, it scares me honestly but I dont know why.

My sister and friends told me that they saw a lot of people wearing their Trump gear and congratulating each other. I didnt want to be there, I just wanted to go home. My stomach was uneasy and I didnt even want to eat lunch. I couldnt think in class, I couldnt stay focused. I wanted to run home and just lay in my bed.

One of my friends that Ive known since I was in kindergarten, whose mother is undocumented, saw my sister and broke down sobbing. And I just read a post from another friend, she and her mother were taunted by junior high kids yelling Trump and Go back to Mexico. This is happening here, at my school, in my neighborhood. Is this really my neighborhood or am I an intruder?

10 November

This morning I got a message from a teacher that we were having a meeting to talk about everything thats going on with Trump. I love that our teachers care about us and how we are feeling. In reading all the posts that people are putting up I feel sad that they are alone and wish they could join us.

I took a couple of my friends to the meeting. At first, there were only about 10 people 15 minutes later there were about 100 of us. I felt so liberated and happy seeing everyone walking in. My heart was beating so fast I wanted to cry, I wanted to hug everyone. Seeing everyone in solidarity made me so proud, it made me feel hopeful.

About 10 students spoke up and talked about not being scared, to unite and to prove the Trump supporters wrong. I wanted to get up there and point out that its not just Trump he has all these followers behind him that are capable of worse things. I want to compare our situation with what the Jews must have felt when Hitler went from being a joke to being their leader. The pigment of our skin and the accent in our voice is like the star on their clothing.

I want to say so much but I cant. I dont want to disrupt the unity in the room and the hopefulness that is being shared. I wish we could have another meeting so I could share all my thoughts and emotions. Im upset with myself for staying quiet. Its not the time to stay quiet, Ive been silenced enough.

11 November

I am so glad we were off from school today. I feel drained, so tired, I feel heavy like I dont want to do anything. I feel anxious like I am worried something is going to happen. I dont want the TV on or any kind of news. I asked my sister not to play music loud. I dont want my mom to listen to hear political shows. I want a break from the elections, I need a break from all of it.

12 November

My mom told me about a huge rally in Los Angeles put on by an organization I know, Union del Barrio. I begged her to go, I had to go, I had to release my anger and frustration. I needed to feel connected to other people. When we arrived we were shocked to see thousands of people!

There were people holding up flags from different countries, different struggles, different identities, it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We were all chanting loudly, holding our fists up for justice, and showing love for one another, forming a rhythm together with our voices. Even though I arrived with anger in my heart, I couldnt stop smiling from all the love and unity I saw around me.

We watched as more and more people joined, we listened to speakers call out for action, telling us not to back down. I held my moms hand, I told her I couldnt believe this was going on. I looked over at her and saw she was crying. I hugged her because I knew how she was feeling. I told her that this was just what I needed. We were unstoppable and unafraid.

13 November

Part of me wanted to go to a rally in Santa Ana today because it is local and I want to show support, but another part of me didnt. I read the rules for this rally, which made me uncomfortable; its a respectability politics kind of rally. I have gone to rallies like this before, where they criticize youth who get too radical.

Those kinds of views are what got us Trump in the first place. I dont know, maybe it was a great rally but I dont want resistance to be criticized. I stand by all people who protest; whether its peaceful or not, we all have the right to feel, we have the right to react, we have the right to be angry. Please dont tell me its going to be OK, you dont know whats going to happen so stop saying that. We, youth, ultimately, have to face the consequences, we have to live with decisions we had no control over.

I told my mother I would rather hang out at the house. I want to rest; I want to feel normal again, whatever that means. I noticed that when Im out at the store, I am constantly wondering what people are thinking of me. I wonder if they voted for Trump, if they dont like me or if they will say something to us.

24 November

Hmm Thanksgiving was super uncomfortable for me. We spent the day with extended family, some of who are white. I honestly have never really felt comfortable around them.

After our Thanksgiving dinner, we were all in the living room talking. My cousins made a remark about the grandpa looking like Bernie Sanders right away they all seemed disgusted when they heard his name. My cousins kept saying how Bernie Sanders was the best and my extended family kept saying Well he didnt win, he didnt win. Pretty much insinuating that Donald Trump is the best since he won. Then my cousin asked them why they like Donald Trump and they just stayed quiet.

I looked over and saw my grandmother, my uncle and aunts, all who were undocumented at some point in their life, who take pride in their culture, their language, and their customs and wonder if they feel the tension in the room. I can tell my grandmother wants to go home. I want to go home too. But I would also defend them if anyone tried to insult them. I dont want to feel like this in my safe space on this special day.

8 December

Trump has named Scott Pruitt, Oklahomas attorney general, to head the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency). How does that even make sense? Even I, a high school student, know thats bad decision. Its like having narcos lead the war on drugs.

9 January

People are salivating just waiting to see people being arrested and deported on TV. The same people whose relatives immigrated here years back but for some reason think they are the True Americans. The same people that stereotype immigrants as being Mexican criminals but dont know that Mexicans are not the majority of immigrants in the US. The same people who are not aware that the majority of those immigrant people never committed a serious crime. The same people that will root for unborn babies pro choice and at the same time for root for children to be separated from their parents.

My heart hurts for my undocumented Daca brothers and sisters who may be at risk starting next week. History repeats itself, get ready for another Operation Wetback.

16 January

Today I had basketball practice, then got to spend the day with people who practice Martin Luther Kings teachings every day. I was so annoyed seeing people post about MLK, sharing his quotes when they just recently were in support of Trump or criticized BLM. How can they not see the hypocrisy in that? Its like they have selective discrimination they discriminate when its popular.

Sometimes I wish I didnt know so much maybe then I wouldnt feel pain when I hear stories, but other days I am glad that I am 17 and woke.

We finalized our plans for Inauguration Day I am excited and angry. Excited that thousands of people from all over the world will stand against Trump and his fascist ideas, yet angry that this day kicks off his plans to harm people.

We are going to start the day with thousands of people in Downtown Los Angeles, then join an evening protest with mostly young people in Santa Ana. The following day Saturday January 21 we will be joining women in Orange County for a big march standing for womens rights. Standing up against Trump is important and I hope other people join, it is to show him and his followers that we will not back down and we will resist hate. May the universe help us.

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