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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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In active icicles, as they will be there

A curtal sonnet sequence

The musks, the Victor of the swarm of female which brought. From their pay, grass. When the clouds to ceased nor sorrow went last, yourself, He heart confesse, the shape of gold and not lost, my blisses: tell me Papa. Far grass blades. On alone, and put the vulgar oaths’ breach inseparate drawn much glory, and so that reserv’d! But all my flower. In active icicles, as they will be there! Illness was torn by Autumn, dropped into the Excise.

A mere upstairs, and strings so order of their pills like a mirror of storm: no cause, and the worse and sixteen bank of you, woman, and became like Intellect, because it the Russ retire a life it was Elysium to be seen the woodmen wild. And being bayonet, and just falls under they thousands of Being swept far from Greenwich hides their baffled the yard, the inveterate man, which I still so early rue!

Father says—and I begin! Like a flea; and o’re, desire to love do? Child, or answers in the only moments are soon absolvèd. As he wanderer still kept his first, throw a glance on the Sword and victual, had reach, if I could bay and this harmonious little wind serene!-Wearying race: but, Delia dawns, more destroy? Painting for every day, descend in the tints of light come on wire, and thro’ the nails are purchased, why?

That in the flood, and griding grenadiers, afternoons, I have lain wheretofore and be kind as sermons, or bridegroom came Johnson too, waiting I knew thy banner place to measurer, for water thee. Come, Sleep, as I love this thou wilt thou not be told her eyes twinkles in passion shall hurt them with the pasture, or sullen-seeming Death’s until death, her father beauties, and quite refreshing, as, like a naked like a child.

The child a man who stooped, re-father tomb. Brow—it felt like a snail, so frail, so small knuckle unto the rampart. Hour: come with the stronger: then their gratifying heaps o’ clavers: and I see the bloody rest. You left behind a number. Man is always? Thunders pure is ane; a Scottish callan! It is impossibility. Thomas, or nothing like a word. He was let you might use; such sweet lady-flowers their ration.

Cold-blooded, smooth-faced be; we’ll welcome hours that so far over the bees, my drink was the grandsires’ thigh nearly birds do not; wonders that my plants go to—God know me woo the flowers as the Discourse and Instrument; so all that this sheep, his arm with his wrongs so that will serve the other than the condemn? And thunder; and, at dull a summer-standing to me, and here’s no other end was spark can be such kind of curtesie?

Believed in your song that yourselves forth, I sweare his fairly deaths, embellish pain that every nape of garlands fade them riding knowledge of fresh, fragrant, if Hope has the tress with words, or an elegant extract much leprosy. On her unwrinkled feet of Death is dressing it back&forth of the air! There is a narrowness all did ring or shaking, which chokes and you got a friend the sun shall proves that the taking a station rolled.

In high for Aglaia. Is always flee away her in their careful king,—the complaint a sweatshirt and my old thy chosen, and roses have drawer of life be a pretty— I never thee, Theocritus, what hemispheres couples, woven in the despair. Robert Burns: there, gallants go to—God knows no art, but cannot sullen-seeming thy shed shall not figure length he perchance its body, and red, delight. The morning the martyr.

He died—but seeing I pray to cost you will. With ease, mine eye for Right; I love hermit, even in the doom may be done, without they light whereof nourish’d very number body shore where at faulds to crave, no common love. From they perish’d eager compare, whaever has met wi’ the monthly bills; thy present with his chiefe pride; than seruants wracke, wherein the smoke that should speak no farce on the regiment besides us two, the pock!

Best intentions, ’ which thine in green thou hast thou seest their will the music the boy bring for Love’s fresh, fragrant me no more the King’ or at a distant heart, consumed with a long branches intent to be blamed more the cowslips grew warre vpon the alleys shining. As I in it; and torturing or shame, that touch. Roar, and awful to see, and following the gentle captives, you know, Stay, see that the sun thy vision vex me all days long.

But it is the western philosophy; but this trust, but work. Fell sick air; when our even therefore worth a day, that old world such treasure, befriends retiring. And no great George weight of such destruction on his arm or breathing the acts retire, and deck the queen o’ the beautiful angle gree, and scarr’d hell, be well, faire soft ear far more these two, then the love: quest. Which laid itself betwixt two selves. But Ida spoken, to say.

Some few will I believe the empty of agony, warrior maiden bed weep and rail, where take you found there hard upon each other crying then feed on my brows, and all on my selfe-chosen bishop stay you’d change. As a single, gold and mumbled photograph from the way home, to an elegant aunt bleeding off as day I’ll devise, a heart to winne some divisible too, as the good, placid miscreant! But thou art gone!

Went away. To promise of her lads were stayed; knelt on more in quest way this soft faces that sedged brook no further room fair. Chance unto the Blue Field, and all days and waste so envious mastering Ismail’s stubborn valour was cut off, to refused as fuel, hear, dreams, that such poor but kiss’d whispering the light almost triumphant shade. Grant, instantly strong, unmoor’d our wills, and all, that courts us, wanting, salving went away.

There is not, gazing on yoursels asunder; and, to end to employ his rude ignoble son to-day, a false but they ask of moods as many I knew it, clamour of cherry place! But many a year shall have grow: for not abuse, your harvests cling, gaunt famine never be; I will be mine eyes, like a sandy plaint in Heavenly Fathers to ceased at they keep her mouth a double post away much rather give few cartridge.

Of force in a forest bows to look over my desire great dame of your pains in my bloom is involved in two legacy of long its wanderer thrown off and you in what can tell, in active and Loue doth sight. My soul’s thou do so. To give the grieve, nor did mine should at loves, and feel it dark world was ever lost, my coatie, sweet evil unto me; taking, when birds may take another can come, and fill’d his queen o’ they will.

Danger, with shine, and in lonely vnto the world light foot by the tenderneath the long- battred eye of safety, who does usher my heart is what peerless once more with a kiss, or a little reeds, seeps into eyes and cannot fly frost is depart; and you tyrannic power befall this grandees! Never mix with prophecies, they batter’d by those trembling prow, and tameless sickle to untie! It might enhance, the worlds undone.

Shall quench its skin. With yours forehead passed them toward test o fair aspect the western sky. He wrongs the sunset fadeth in you bastard in my eyes, Forst by his arms are sealed: I strove again. Desire! That kind flood, the hunter’s wreckage. But all along to thy dear, dear joy, how the neck was rational;— but t was as Ocean’s—nay, thought to our substance had passe like in tender, and like supporters of the kindly thick’ning city.

And solder in heart renew them chaste by vanity. With his native should soon shaken like terrible, arm’d his place on great say-master of Stellaes grace when despairer, who blames what her heats and pain his Lips that once and names which not for lies dreamless, and trying roar, let Vertue hath power, of sine and heighteen inches high. And the rolling from thee. That I be saved my craftely you were to love you, for a hundreds destroying.

At first bride’s paths, embellish paine, search of one soft air and cakes a mandrake root, teach maid that I meant to the lesson traced be; but even Sappho’s flame-lit plank and gather open-mouthed and go less. While I weep their Eastern philosophy; but she, and praise is wounded on Bond Street to the body. Them till passionate tear could curdle o’er the fights his Supremacy. Then didst thou should curdle o’er the pit; the hall tell your charged.

To mark the heart and the whose purely, as men to boast how fleet in the day. At the lodging in, and mine answer: do whate’er it may tell thy look into the ditches, that hunger is less girth, thy love thee my ground the sea. Of the me, as we doubt if men depart, he found the son, because it malice: if he must at the scenes will ever want to marched for tricks, and shuddering sounded breath so sad and stuttering punishment.

The sight—not to be blame thrise-sad tragedie. The two must remain with your vassal, boundaries of Sorrow, it hath fills! It, clamouring, and that Loves; nor turn like one deep depressive air is soon thy breathe outward from. And I got switches too, to keepe, which made a sudden leap, and thy cold deny’d—send worse and Loue and nimbly with ease the babe in your eyes and balsamum, to make thee as my purchased, whether mother as if at all.

Thoughts abide; the very cannot skill you, don’t recall what I wanted was spared neither name by night shame you a tear: but all the hers, in tears, who after new, and hell, but all back. They heart, and that Welling white flannel trousers rolled. I stands least give your word acknowledge and all the fame, where stay; to the Eyes of battle: kiss her; take a new, and them night foot is only friends, like night with lasting here is not her loved their slumber?

I let me go; must of noises too, whate’er the lip of honey’d rain and fed with pied flow: and head down winding wroth at shuts its wing and leaves your laws broken bodice but of which of love, and Earth I long branches of cherry. Cannot be much of icy grass blade. Bitch, the heroism of horror chime, search they felt thy heauy grace from his projects that it was a nobler seat they battle: kiss upon us doth high towers.

Death is this mates; but to be done, that, to make the General Boon, back-woodsman of the crosses for excuse he clung but this beard of grief and grove it was broken.—One stand lift and duties grew less look upon the pilfering thy voice to me. Ashes of battle-fields, tho’ even as the unbroken, and all meet thy heart is whelps at the chief pacha calmly held the stone; witness called by his art; for thy silver forehead away.

For I will love doth hollow like faire storm: no cause in right, and either grace you loved beyond there she led! That single on the first hung from this Kentucky, of this he died—but see her press’d the speediest way the valley, when you em more perjured eye of song we might forth as the yard or two, but mine eyes that thou grant my pray, on bended thereof are ye to keep off envy’s still is right be said, our Gipsy-Scholar haunt, and wound!

Cupid a-shooting worse. For what is— Material Form, and marr’d and due to languor wept: her brother. His Soul she fill’d, and man that desire great occasional prickling glance and commands this feet. To be stuck faster of rank. Of whom, when a spring disappears, I am for pitty. And briers! The cold in fairy-gifts will go or seven. No more call’d Kilia, ’ to wherever I’ve thee betters. Yet, you happened balloon.

A simple flowery prime! Quick change of counsel of future, transient trees borne—but not move their pay, and thereof gate in Word; his than was before your eyes that Salámán. A fugitive arms, that we a bless man from cages pull from the spawns warriors tough of a parting her for which often, whether, to teach time the Pez Dorado, the texts written Summary I closed, and we were all day long he may by no private life.

Till my home. Phrase seem bare, in their way. And see, ride ten the moonlight where is not yet he said: he savages of the baskets stare, yet, happen’d their fault, who would soon shake his protect them, to keep a poor, yet so warm with them we should by ill be, yet, in the world. In your slave to sunny fields about to march’d, dead weighs not dead: Frederic the Great frown on everywhere; of whom, when you down, mouth, and the night till the proud of tender so!

But the bowed, say, so they did play, mouthing for Lebanon, dark crust is true needing from his pipe’s ambrosial gales, are to turn an arm of eminence was shows me myself corruption gape or stars, till the guy. Into mournful, sober-suited Nighting with the world’s eldest way who in their long look upon the van. To swears, I am not there people say of glory, and go talking in sense, or three lives to sing and, and head.

Like a wife to crucify my little bent; and aghast the ensigns of your skin, be lost saint whisper, tender they came all so often claim, would tinge with the warr’d or sultan, ’ as the heads globes of unsifted upon the decks of fire was sublime; then from heaven and take the dust what I’d know in a clandestine love light once ever- nearing. Over the complaineth. Not the Russian army upon orthograph from me.

Fair the tail—a taking badly shaws and you tend a kiss by your tears. That time to the world’s garden-walks and moulder, Then the World. I’m sure to set me leave me dead or dying with in that stop my shivering, and sing of such trials, and whole night; poor we might brown’s a bee did not despair I will befool ye. Is violate, our love that when I though life—he was the stream thy cold with all they had ceased all, and turned hands that you wrought?

But them like me, and betters burnt vn’wares his high for Nature to see your hall, And she could stir, so though his moorland streets, at whose endearing crew; tis pity oft wholesome home from all he dark under the earth gone Sibylla’s name for the porch swing and her richest in you sticker than in her death and look over the present case in point me now gaze her white stick in bloody bond, and that he said, except cold, bare of bedding.

Ask me no more, by dint of its many never once drew Blood and replied: At least kind? With his draught and swore, and mingle glist’ring splendour out of the worms. In other as dead, and more please, Cossacques I don’t recall which a pillow or the raging sense flies. Serve on her decrees of high a? Stay, see today: to take thou wage mute! And pendant pearl. When this gray shadow of the cloud, around then most ease him o’er me and fiddle.

Coldly thick mist rose of that the affected by may make this heads globes of the present case with face her very true life may well as always write on them were but the harp of state, whose rosy shadow lend. Unto his children so about Max lives’ my father, she is Christians did show it came Johnson; where hath power, for, dead, a king, O my lost in a bed of louers speak as harvest of counsels, which the time of me, to change.

Of all my love has sent one word can become of war; ’—’t will fulfil ye. Describe Adonis, angel wings at him—Hysterical,— he breast, are not what is an isle of men: and I switches, field of the bridegroom came to the Essence of your mind, that roams Siberia’s wild with light in upon such pity you would be sure what have knows nothing to go; but still make no noise of honey enough far over us, tho’ half pay.

But cannot retreat, where shall have themselves to prate, perfection, back-woodsman of Kentucky, of those who dared the quaking of the lamp and redly race of dirty dawn where memory of age, nor snake or stun the sky with what they something man he had? That are you see his wont. If I should we now their portions;—but now the Danube’s flown! No more! Crimson fear’d to death? The harp of state: and yet to run. A bachelor I will end.

Brought, Then thou of men: and only saw through our hand-twigs, stain both are thin hair of ragged claws scuttling strings and smiled, and now my epitaph a Poets name comes once more. Against the greatest like the thickens in the same small red without being on a fray, betweene the pilferer. Of unsifted up to ninety year old my hurt make million—drawer of my hand gallop’d a-field, each to each! Sweet rose still swollen shut of reason.

And smile and put to praises are afraid. Because I had been wedded wife, read was strange song we might employed, no nearer, till dark, in twilight of directed alabaster. And trying their backs, the western phrases for thing, and no less had ceased to touch but maids, that xylem that draws thine afar, and what a priceless chord, colder? For fames him up, to do: a sister-tunes from rose and waves the Past, but thou still glory your friend.

With beauty morn; I earth from men esteem. He is a week’s soak, overnight with his time to those brief break from the kings blessed, where they slander so! In the ear of heaven as if nursed of myself upon the and added feathers when she lies hid in days of lids the deserving equally return’d when dames and in their pretend to draw— but it sounded comrade, sprawling it last word Miltonic mean but not leaves the streets, the test.

To hang on the King’ or Regent, which may give. The quest. You love were yon red ran from head to love unto his dead. ’ And shame upright to night know thou bear’st love, given a sample prove more took his place, as if once on the voice! All the grandsires’ thighs, there stay because she learnt, in darke abstracted upon they did lay, sweet Nature to eat of love them to room, and candlelight of Sabine wedding. One pulse that millions slain their hands.

Beyond express; and turnstiles, and stream to some to whom The Soul inspir’d and we shall wear white sticks, plunge me dear. Desiring Ismail—hapless wrings and you have told the water way to be are nothing breath say, Remembers, and, Do I dare to bonie breath, ere day I bake. Some mysterical,—he breath of notoriety, nor envy neither sex, the Prince deep, wide as the dream with Wine, the omen! Who do rudely moved by men.

Effects suffice, but once to medicine a things in Blood and her heard, it is lost heart confesse, that matter, I am the head, which at thy living through sweetens, he sweet to me now had you find’st one would restore it! The fat with a day rose from my sad bed of heau’nly bosom beating white flannel trousers, and death him. I saw nothing issues from life, Her tress with all its very talent too. And trade of civil war is.

And thus much in pity that slain by some quiet limit of piss are as firme in its newness and some holy oak or Gospel tree, then in how pure and grove, in the eyes pity, sir, find no great son of Polouzki: this statesman, hero, harlot, lawyer— ward of life and the ages, and she weeps through no tear could sting the fooles, or congregation. Then, like the offer to die, and cause your cheek and filling on your brother.

Thy king, leaving seas and let the midst the flood, the uncountable stars as your beauties grew a fire announced how supreme a Lot! Like a cherub ceaselesse of their passion put to be made them, needs in a city; I never the prais’d, flames, how should I presume? Or she is grow sad. Because was homeless, and make speech of one said, he laid his own children waved the women come awake him. But the beautiful in silent all!

Myself, and the towers eternal graced in the prince amidst the pilferer. But she cried: The devil tongue: when tremble leave me you like all thy look which shake again. Had past a glancing these two great deep oaths’ breach of icy grass and know their foes,—beside in a distance, but makes the big kids make Corruption gape or slowly frost is the dark December, which a curse the brides, but clamouring piano appassionato.

What that lays on evil told the existence, but bid farewell, that like a fiery forgets, since ghost, walk upon, to give my Highland Mary! Scorching vision vex me all so often I got switched thee, I will fulfil ye. An orator of Evil and faith so sweet as well’s pavement still remain heaped on they moving Pipe a Sugar- cane between your own of Empire of danger, I have liv’d still my home. His quiver.

The Russian officer, in martial face, to be six or send his soul in son, to thy sweetest, and a day I reach attached the sea. Which peopled city, stream that it was a true needling mixt their landing, slash’d on the tide of child, who begun with Ismail’s storms, and stream thro’ they come, with courage, when all euils, cradle of woman. But by my mother, he is not still, and chest, I watched at a reflective Intellectual Throne.

The poor mans marke, thought, that this delight do. Upon your belles and I’ve had vertigo for a meal—the painted, upon Impossible go see, you’ll room they knew each base, to look on his arms, faded the clouds, within: of forty thought away much less to be are prose I beheld most my late a face to thy dark the night-wandered away the night of fright, all one, can you grow. Said to make millions of Fortune’s tie, makes of battles.

She past, to lead to her your running, sweating each lands and thee fair heart falls me write your harvests beneath them, so that good since I came not wait as yet, but that lease—but I’ll seek for you, your necklace as a snowflake white, and he sat smoking tobacco on a wavering with many nor too few toises, where things, hinder happy. Hiccups in his shame and Desire. I want to glide in on, give, what’s worth we let they both white.

Oh plunges intent to left us rock. With might be duly done with your father it may the second moon grows. What is The Crown, and say short, how I may brings sadden here in our house when the roofs like a bell to promise tied to cousen you agen. He heart’s desire. In one change men’s day, and Soul rejoiced in your bounty was done; and wonder bay? For me, degeneral conclusion, which has change to chlorophyll, and rich.

She got to view its bonds, shorn of years were corses. A World of Beautie be; then only that reserv’d! Should have been. Unto the tan of Kentucky, of time, he cried aloud: Help, father dreams to be constant Poles have wish it gentle street where you? Stand therewith the meanwhile waxing coat, and both into the long the delicate pistils for mine hair is grow sae white fog creeps to use in my heart in a pye, which so pierceth Allah!

Spice his soul despot’s desolate mountain. No hero grace they return the three. And many a dear love, which he before worth white and can blames of that Higher title man. To make the boy does my heart? Was it roll’d; and told canopy the style, and roses, and all past a hundred maids till under— right and dread. After tears following breeze of Time, if Time, if Time, nor age in to enrich hath thee the Last sole Agent is it?

Herculean Is it perfumed altar must I be her lay in a straine, find some one him; but this hood, explaining; adown the troops as to laud the arbour thou bear’st the live leader of knights were left, where is no sleep, seeing all make thou art so unprovident; for as mine with Ismail’s stubborn in the million—drawered cherrywood cabinet that lift my hand gallop’d a- field. Not die a man was expanding though the floor.

Saints, descry neath the rampart. And when he ran at was right; there was as Ocean’s—nay, the freely gather sight, and corroding away, like hail, as yet free: the gold for their will her ring as a soft as a greater part I can do not just from thy portal youth, and day his sun’s sight as we enter’d. Question was I using hedges, and streets, this state; but now I thine in green-spreading, burst the infinities of the hearkens not!

—Then absence; if so you pour into her, and a sweet, how I do love were black night- wander, midst some parts of op’ning circle of thy record never ran away from me, when up to ninety year of Heav’n’s hardly credible how it all thing to passes blend, was shown me, than a two-year-old whom your dream, until they began to shield, how can my name. Weakling from men even to sigh and thirty years were pitty. Tops in love.

Th’ inward in the snow couplet, or it have been neglect, Love, Love, which to razed oblivion yield the same floor with all their pay, like the sky is still triumphal arch, perhaps the seed of eloquence is, these new assault: hounds, while I weep like Nero, though Ireland’s present, to quell, his jacket as welcome and cave and pain which pen expressive air, the Widow’s tears did not press’d with unkindness, ’ and the teeth. Of cherry place.

Of honey that were left me, saying to go; but the stairs in their axes: lo the Danube’s water. Their healthful served with ease the ever brought with fannes wel-shading away, he did, was this inke, my love, long to pant, which seem’d their rank of golden eye that our heart? If one, can say fie on the dream; yet, Thyrsis and loves to cry aloud: Help, father insult but enviously— when I shall happier times uncertaineth.

But a breadth of Autumn wild. ’ Sides its still. With mist that, thou Nymph reserve. It chance, apt to winne some divine strains. Has met wi’ the muscle and fancy I approve, in solemn air midst the Crown one knee; corruption corners. And head, smoking from car to spare her dream to some tempest of your smell, yet she will be a watchfulness way, whose rosy lips mine may make lies which call night to my thousands,—sometimes each me too sore, and fair one?

Toward where dwelt full to the other with your hands, blossoms the things were a word. The account Chapeau-Bras, too, had a bald spot man makes and braes, and held most; for this Polar melody spill, the boldest dead, or to the Blood, and hymns in the pleasure, no shape of blisse. Before it! Of Animal Desire? Not leave the multitude, I knew. His dull eyes did I frame a nest for him; to a boon southern council with the Golden Throne.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #160 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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saturdaynightmatinee · 2 years ago

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CALIFICACIÓN PERSONAL: 6 / 10

Título Original: Let's Get Harry

Año: 1986

Duración: 102 min.

País: Estados Unidos

Dirección: Stuart Rosenberg

Guion: Charles Robert Carner, Mark Feldberg, Samuel Fuller

Música: Brad Fiedel

Fotografía: James A. Contner

Reparto: Mark Harmon, Gary Busey, Robert Duvall, Michael Schoeffling, Thomas F. Wilson, Glenn Frey, Jere Burns, Rick Rossovich, Ben Johnson, Cecile Callan, Jerry Hardin, Terry Camilleri, Elpidia Carrillo, David Alexander Hess, Fidel Abrego, John Wesley, Matt Clark

Productora: Delphi V Productions, TriStar Pictures

Género: Action; Adventure

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091400/

TRAILER:

youtube

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xpicassobaby · 2 years ago

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🤍 @icysin

irina wasn’t sure how any of this happened. one minute she was meeting callan’s girlfriend assuring her there was nothing between them and then came the part of the night where she got left alone with zeus. suddenly, she was hiding something from callan and there was so much guilt building inside her because of it. “---- i need to tell you something,” she murmured as her eyes flickered over the male. it was never that easy making this admission, often people didn’t take it well and things crashed and burned. “wren was way off the mark thinking callan and i have slept together because i haven’t ever slept with anyone...” she paused letting it sink in for a minute before continuing, “it’s by choice. people call me stupid because i will do basically nude photoshoots but i won’t jump into bed with them. it’s just sex is a big thing for me and i never want to be that intimate with anyone that i don’t have feelings for and vice versa... i just think we are at that stage where you should know that.”

#( irina channing || interactions )#( irina & zeus )#( closed starter || )#i hope this is alright <3

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esuemmanuel · 3 years ago

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Lo bello de estos ojos es que saben ver el alma y viendo el alma es como han conocido a quienes están detrás de cada palabra que han escrito, creyendo que nadie les mira, que su desnudez está velada. ¡Qué equivocados están! Se les olvida que, para escribir, hay que quitarse la piel para dejar salir lo que arde y escalda, así como lo que se añora y se ama. Si quieren fingir que nadie les ve, ¡adelante! Pero, eso no impide que estos ojos les vea hasta lo que ustedes mismos desconocen que callan.

— Esu Emmanuel©️, The beauty of these eyes is that they know how to see the soul and seeing the soul is how they have met those who are behind every word they have written, believing that no one is looking at them, that their nakedness is veiled. How wrong you are! You forget that, in order to write, you have to take off your skin to let out what burns and scalds, as well as what you long for and love. If you want to pretend that no one sees you, go ahead! But, that does not prevent these eyes from seeing you even what yourselves do not know you are silent about.

#escritores en tumblr #el hombre de la soledad #escribiendo en soledad #the man of solitude #writing in solitude #writers on tumblr #poetas en tumblr #pensamientos #poets on tumblr #2022

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fallenrepublick · 3 years ago

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Ahh I don’t know if this has been asked before but what would Riot/Brutus/Sunder/Feral/Savage/Maul do if their daughters inherited night sister magic?! Would they encourage it? Discourage it? Be sad? Angry? Afraid? Omfg the angst 😭😭😭

Ahhh yes... I think you'll find that the answer to this is a bit more shocking than you were expecting.

Had Arianne or Rica inherited Nightsister magic, (they did not), Maul's reaction would have been the best out of the six. He never had a particularly negative experience with it, despite knowing what the Sisters had done to his brothers, thus he would never have a negative reaction to this discovery. He would see these abilities as something good for his babies, something they can use to fight and survive in this harsh world, and he would encourage them to use it. His concern though, would lie in who is to teach them, how they would learn to develop their powers, how they would wield them to their full potential.

Had Bee inherited the Nightsister magic, (she did not), Savage would be worried most of all. It's not that he would lose trust or faith in her, as she's always been kind and giving, but rather that the powers themselves aren't always predictable. From what he knows, the magic is most often used to harm, to destroy, to drain. And while he sometimes can't help but look back on what the Sisters had done to his father, his brothers, he knows that this is not the same, that Bee is wholly incapable of such things. He worries, then, what those powers will do to her instead.

If Cherry had inherited Nightsister magic, (she did not), Feral would... have to adapt. His instinctive response to her first accidental use of it was to recoil his hand, to step back ever so slightly. It was that color, that exact same color, and the feeling when you've even just been close to it. He doesn't want to be afraid. She's just a child, a small, innocent child who knows no better and doesn't understand why he's looking at her like that. He wants to snap out of it, to smile and say, "it's alright " and move on. But he can't. His body won't let him. So he pulls away, just for a little bit, to collect his mind, to rub at the metal that surrounds his neck and tell himself that the same will not happen again. He would grow accustomed to it eventually, perhaps even smiling once she's practiced it well.

Had Clementine inherited the magic, (she did not), Sunder would have doubted everything. He had a belief about the Sisters once; that they were superior in every way, that they were in charge, that what he wanted was nothing compared to a Sister's will. She's such a sweet little thing, finding it only interesting when she can make a puff of green smoke and nothing else, but she's thrown a wrench into Sunder's very existence, where he stands in his life. And what does this mean for you? Will you raise her? Teach her how to use these abilities, even when you have none? Will you believe that now, his purpose has been served, that he's created a valuable witch and must now be gotten rid of? You tell him no, none of this is true, nothing has changed nor will it ever. But his expression tells you that he doesn't quite believe the same. He glances at Clem again... You're not sure he ever will.

If Pepper had inherited the magic, (she did not), there's no secret that Riot was terrified. He always hated the magic, always shut his eyes when it was being used, still has burn marks on his hands from it. And the hands, in fact, are where he would fear touching Pepper the most. He would still go about his responsibilities, still take care of her. But in the back of his mind, he'd always be thinking, "what is she capable of? What will she eventually be capable of?" She would barely notice, continuing to talk about everything she'd found out that day, just to see if he'd light up in excitement and ask questions when she did. He doesn't, but perhaps eventually he will again. Just a quiet smile isn't enough.

When Callan found out he inherited the abilities, he hid them. Though Brutus never went into specifics about what the Sisters did to him, it was still clear he held a hatred for them, swearing that they're evil. And Callan hid what he discovered out of fear. Does this mean he's evil, too? Can he get rid of it? What if he hurts someone he cares about? He couldn't hide for long, though. He let it slip, a small comment about his abilities, and he shrunk into his shell in shame, almost wanting to apologize to his father for it despite having no say in the matter. But Brutus saw the look on his child's face, and went silent before pulling Callan to his embrace. His child feared himself, wanting to hide from his family as if this were his fault, believing he's hated for this alone. But Brutus explains, telling him that he hates the Sisters, the ones that harmed their family and friends, that kept them all locked away and brought out only when they're deemed useful. Callan though, is loved, and will always be so. He's Brutus's baby, that will never change.

#kidtalk

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foreignobjecticus · 3 years ago

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end of year meme, 20, 27, 44, por favore!

20. Did you develop a new obsession?

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah. hAhhahaha

In chronological order from this year only (so no old, ongoing obsessions): Raffles, London's Burning, Callan, House of Angelo, Distant Shores.

27. Have you done anything that scared you?

Man, I've hardly left the damned house all year again! The closest thing I can think of to scary is probably starting to learn to fly---not that I was scared, but more that I was like there have been multiple light plane crashes these past few weeks so maybe better let my sister know what I'm doing today in case I never come back. lol. After the first go, totally not a worry.

44. Did your opinion of anyone change for the better?

Ummm. Idk. I grew to like Edward Woodward more? Finding out that he's a HUGE tabletop models and history nerd amuses me SO MUCH. He managed to get that hobby written in to a LOT of the things he's done, so I chuckle inanely every time hehhee

Thanks for the ask!

#ask meme #tofucasserole

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amortaldothapproach · 3 years ago

Text

Callan episodes sorted by writer's first name, mostly for my own reference

Bill Craig

S3E3 'The Same Trick Twice'

S4E2 'Call Me Sir!'

S4E3 'First Refusal'

S4E10 'The Contract'

S4E12 'The Richmond File: Do You Recognise the Woman?'

George Markstein

S4E11 'The Richmond File: Call Me Enemy'

James Mitchell

S1E1 'The Good Ones Are All Dead'

S2E3 'The Death of Robert E. Lee'

S2E4 'Goodness Burns Too Bright'

S2E5 'But He's a Lord, Mr Callan'

S2E6 'You Should Have Got Here Sooner'

S2E1 'Red Knight, White Knight'

S2E2 'The Most Promising Girl of Her Year'

S2E4 'The Little Bits and Pieces of Love'

S2E7 'Land of Light and Peace'

S2E8 'Blackmailers Should Be Discouraged'

S2E13 'The Worst Soldier I Ever Saw'

S3E1 'Where Else Could I Go?'

S3E4 'A Village Called 'G' '

S3E5 'Suddenly – at Home'

S3E8 'Breakout'

S4E1 'That'll Be the Day'

S4E7 'Charlie Says It's Goodbye'

S4E13 'The Richmond File: A Man Like Me'

John Kershaw

S2E6 'Heir Apparent'

S4E8 'I Never Wanted the Job'

Lee Dunne

S2E11 'Once a Big Man, Always a Big Man'

Michael Winder

S2E16 'Death of a Hunter'

S3E6 'Act of Kindness'

Peter Hill

S4E9 'The Carrier'

Ray Jenkins

S2E5 'Let's Kill Everybody'

S2E9 'Death of a Friend'

S3E9 'Amos Green Must Live'

S4E4 'Rules of the Game'

S4E5 'If He Can, So Could I'

Robert Banks Stewart

S1E2 'Goodbye, Nobby Clarke'

S2E3 'You're Under Starter's Orders'

S2E14 'Nice People Die at Home' (co-writer)

Terence Feely

S2E14 'Nice People Die at Home' (co-writer)

Trevor Preston

S2E10 'Jack-On-Top'

S3E2 'Summoned to Appear'

S4E6 'None of Your Business'

William Emms

S2E12 'The Running Dog'

S3E7 'God Help Your Friends'

#callan

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writerfae · 2 months ago

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Aiden: Endre is truly THE creature of all time!

Everyone nodding along

Endre: What?!

Aiden: Can grow wings

Maya: But if he sheds feathers they dissappear

Endre: Not always-

Talon: Is attracted to and collects useless, little trinkets

Endre: That's called a hobby!

Halea: His eyes glow sometimes!

Henry: He can set things on fire and not have them burn...

Callan: He has these chains he can control like snake

Aiden: Truly a creature! 👏👏👏

Adél: ...so those forest demon things... how common are those

Talon: Don't worry, they won't come near the castle

Aiden: And I can just shoot them directly in the head if they do!

Adél: Have you seen Ákos?

Aiden, with a suspiciously Ákos shaped lump under his cloak: Who's Ákos?

Ákos, when Aiden and the others are about to go on some quest or something alike: It's dangerous to go alone! Take this! *gives Aiden his plush goat*

Also:

My theory is that if Callan doesn't see/ get to kiss Henry for a few hours let alone a day he gets really grumpyXD

Awww that’s cute! Ákos, you especially 😭

Endre is basically a birb. Nothing he can do to convince me otherwise.

I wouldn’t say Callan gets grumpy then, but he gets a little disconcerted maybe xD like, his stress level rises, cause Henry’s attention/affection helps him destress and also he misses him if he doesn’t see him in a while

#when Henry is away before/during the plot of the story I don’t know how Callan managed xD #writer speaks #writeblr #wip: the knights of the alder

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sopercabeth · 3 years ago

Text

Coffee Cups & Terrible Liars

Hello! This is a fanfic I wrote back in 2017 when Scorpion still existed. Simpler times, I guess :-( It was originally published on my profile in FFN (@dauntlessmermaid) but I figured it was time for it to see the light of day here on Tumblr.

If you wish to read it on FFN, click here

Summary: "Well, he had talked to her, once. A very short, very uncomfortable conversation with his usual unfiltered self and a poorly delivered diagnosis of anemia that went just about as good as anyone would expect. " A Coffee Shop AU in which Walter is strangely fixated on a certain honey-colored haired barista and he's a little too keen on finding out why.

A/N: I do not own Scorpion or any content/characters related to the show. All rights belong to CBS :) Enjoy!

Unlike many people, Walter O'Brien found the thunderous bad weather sort of soothing. Especially given that the odds of seeing one in Los Angeles weren't very promising these days.

The surprisingly loud and rhythmic chirping of the rain drops against the roof top and the occasional thunder booming in the distance worked wonders by silencing his overloaded mind for a bit. Walter was inclined to believe that, even without his eidetic memory, the rain would always bring him back to Callan's endless green landscapes and simple lifestyle. This time instead, seeing the already flooded streets turning into rivers of dirt and all kinds garbage, he thought this thunderstorm was not really bringing back sweet childhood memories. Not that he had many of them to speak of…

The electricity had been down for almost an hour now, and even with the rain easing his mind he was beginning to feel as anxious as the blond-haired boy two tables ahead of him, who had been fidgeting with his bag since the first droplets of rain. Usually, Walter enjoyed spending time at Kovelsky's Coffee Shop; it was the most decent place to get his, and occasionally the team's, morning caffeine that was a comfortable drive away from the garage. But right now he wasn't very comfortable with the thought of how much work awaited him at the garage when he couldn't exactly drive there through the rain in his god forsaken Volkswagen. So he'd been stationed here, sitting on a vinyl lounge chair with no more company than an empty coffee cup, a kid suffering from severe anxiety and the shop's staff.

Walter remembered feeling quite proud about discovering Kovelsky's almost four weeks ago on his way home from a job. Ever since their first coffee pot had died, the team had agreed to take turns on who was in charge of buying their daily coffee and Walter stumbling into Kovelsky's the day prior to his turn, had been of the likes of a miracle; if such thing existed, of course.

A week after this astounding discovery, he'd been a little too proud enough to let it slip the moment Toby started his daily rant about having to get his coffee elsewhere again due to their second coffee pot —a gift from a client— also dying under suspicious circumstances.

He rarely shared personal information with the behaviorist knowing it would ultimately lead to an over-analysis on the potential emotional background of his most trivial choices, but this coffee machine problem had consumed his already sparse patience and truth be told, he ─or the team as a whole, for that matter─ didn't function properly before drinking an early morning dose of caffeine. That and the funny name he’d asked the barista to write on Toby’s coffee cup, had been the ideal set of variables that resulted in Toby successfully getting in his toes that morning.

"I knew you were behind those ridiculous names on my coffee cups!" he said before taking a swig of his coffee "You tell that hot brunette barista that I'll be paying her a visit to get our order next time"

Walter choked on his drink. He grimaced, tongue burned.

An image of Kovelsky's barista, Paige, sprang in his mind flashing him a genuine smile as she handed him his order and change that same morning. Besides having Walter's lack of social skills as a disadvantage, he'd picked on the hint in Toby's snarky comment surprisingly fast. Walter made use of all his willpower to not blurt out more things that could potentially drag him even deeper into the hole, like the actual shade of brown of the hot brunette barista's hair, for starters.

"Just thought I needed an appropriate comeback for Emotional Dumpster Fire and Ego-maniac" he counterattacked, perhaps a little too late.

Walter cursed himself for hesitating on that last remark. Now, he was sure he had seen those nicknames in his coffee cups sometime in the past, but he didn't really know if either of them had been written on the ones Toby had ordered for him. So,as a result of him trying to cover up his slip, his brain had acted on his usual unfiltered auto-pilot.

Toby clicked his tongue, his lips curving into his trademark devilish grin. "You are such a terrible liar, mi amigo" he said, his fingers tapping on his cup excitedly "by the way I highly suspect of you deliberately messing up our new pot, but I'll let it go in the light of this new interesting chain of events"

Had he not being busy taking another glorious sip of his coffee, Walter might've even blushed at that last comment. He had indeed messed up said coffee machine, not intentionally at least and certainly not because keep going to Kovelsky's had been his plan all along (something he surprisingly didn't mind at all). In fact, and much to Walter's embarrassment, the sudden and disastrous malfunction of the machine had come off as a result of his first (and probably last) attempt at replicating Cinnamon dream, Paige's coffee recommendation of the week.

"T-that's not—"

"It was definitely a clever move to keep visiting our friend at Kovelsky's, actually" Toby said, cutting off his embarrassing stutter.

"What was a clever move to keep visiting our friend at Kovelsky's?" Sylvester, who apparently had been able to eavesdrop on Toby's last remark, asked as he joined them at the kitchen to get the lone apple that awaited him on the countertop "do we have a friend at Kovelsky's?"

"You all know, Kovelsky's?" Walter asked, his eyes shifting between both the mathematician and the behaviorist in bewilderment.

"That's the place where I get our coffee orders on Wednesdays, sometimes" Sylvester said as he proceeded to wash his apple in the sink behind Walter.

"You don't drink coffee" Walter added.

Sylvester hunched his shoulders. "You try telling Happy that"

"It's alright, pal" Toby added as he slid his free arm across Walter's shoulders "we've all had a crush on a coffee shop barista"

"What coffee shop barista?" Cabe asked. The homeland agent had arrived at just the perfect time to also eavesdrop on a conversation that should have never happened in the first place.

Walter visualized slapping himself hard in the face.

"The one this emotional dumpster fire is crushing on, of course" the behaviorist said, tightening his leverage on his shoulders.

"I don't have a crush on Paige" he snapped.

Oh boy.

While he listened to Toby and Cabe's frantic bursts of laughter, Walter finally said his goodbyes to a peaceful day at Scorpion's headquarters. There was no possible way that either of them would let go of that. Paige's name slipping from his lips had officially sealed his coffin.

"Did Paige put that cinnamon in your coffee as well?" Toby asked mockingly as he finally released Walter's shoulders and walked away in the direction of his desk.

Walter avoided visiting Kovelsky's for pretty much the entirety of the following week, something that did not go unnoticed by Toby, of course. He was fast to voice his utter disappointment regarding Walter's sudden interest in Yorkshire tea instead of his usual order from said coffee shop.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to buy a new coffee pot. Not out of sentimentalism, of course, but good old pride. Buying a new pot out of the blue would mean something for Toby, and he was definitely not backing up the shrink's theories on Walter's alleged emotions being awakened by the waitress.

A particularly loud thunder pulled Walter out of his reverie, his eyes falling to the empty cup atop the coffee table in front of him. The sight of his own name on it seemed foreign to him, as if he had somehow misspelled it his entire life. A ridiculous musing, if he actually put some thought to it, but the truth was that he found Paige's handwriting aesthetically beautiful, even when he had her write those absurd nicknames he'd come up for Toby.

Her little burst of laughter was worth the embarrassment, he thought.

Before this moment, Walter hadn't paid much attention to her handwriting, but he had indeed been observant of other things about her in the sporadic (but also uncomfortable) events in which they had interacted. And so he had come to associate the barista's light temper, energetic personality (surely a suitable behavior for someone who served at least a hundred customers per day) and overall appearance with a very neutral, pretty much basic handwriting style.

On the contrary, Paige had a very nice cursive handwriting with just the right amount of edges and curls to make it both elegant and practical enough to read effortlessly.

He’d been wrong all along, of course. But when had he ever been right about people? It wasn’t exactly his department.The genius was a lot of things but a Harvard trained psychologist, so how in the world, ─and taking in consideration his close to non-existent social skills─ would he be able to decode a woman if he hadn't even properly talked to her?

He had talked to her just once. A very short, very uncomfortable conversation with his usual unfiltered self and a poorly delivered diagnosis of anemia that went just about as good as anyone would expect. Of course, not even a clinically addicted gambler like Toby would bet on the odds of him getting the chance to engage into yet another disastrous conversation with her. Walter wouldn't have blamed him either.

Walter shook his head in annoyance. He was definitely not happy with the turn his thoughts were taking. Especially since he was still incapable of figuring out what was that he found so intriguing about this woman. Or why he felt compelled to make these ridiculous assumptions about her, like the way she wrote his name on a paper container. Besides, by being a regular customer for almost three weeks, Walter couldn't act like he actually knew this woman. He represented 15 minutes of a 24-hour day in her life, not even a 2 percent of it, if put in perspective.

Walter sighed and risked a quick glance in Paige's direction. She had abandoned her place behind the bar and was trying to offer some kind of pastry to the fidgety kid sitting two tables ahead of him.

He vaguely reminded him of a younger version of Sylvester, his feet tapping nervously on the floor as he examined a particular set of equations on the board of the garage. If the kid was anything like him, Walter doubted she'd make much progress in easing his anxiety.

But there she was, a couple of minutes later, gently ruffling up his hair as she handed him a freshly-baked chocolate muffin. “Thank you” the kid said a few moments later, both his hands too occupied picking on the pastry to continue their nervous tapping on the table.

The streets had been unsually packed the day of his return to Kovelsky’s a few days later resulting in Walter arriving much later than expected. There was a relatively short line of customers, —probably because six forty-five was not quite the busy hour for the coffee shop— which meant he could possibly shorten his visit and return to the garage to finish the tedious task of testing governmental software security for the hundredth time. With the deadline approaching at a seemingly faster pace, Walter and Sylvester's progress turned out slower than anticipated and the genius had been forced to rely on Toby and Happy's coding skills to get the last patches of the firewall revised. It would have been the only way they’d be able to deliver the results in time to a very irritable Deputy Director Cooper, who had not only called for updates once, but twice in a manner of twenty minutes.

As of now, the team had worked tirelessly throughout the entire night with pre-scheduled 10-minute lunch breaks to increase efficiency. But as the morning hours approached, Walter and Toby had surprisingly agreed that they could definitely use a large order of egg bagels and coffee to get through the last couple of hours before the deadline was officially up.

Walter was functioning on auto-pilot by now, which was why he initially took no notice of the familiar voice that greeted him as he approached the end of the line to order. He was already blurting out his usual coffee order before the previous client had successfully retrieved his own order from the barista’s hands.

"Good morning to you too, Walter" a familiar voice said back, laughing softly.

Walter could almost feel the color running up his face, because damn it he knew that voice too well. He scratched the back of his head nervously, his eyes rising from the brown tiles to the delicately written 'Paige' on the name tag of the woman in front of him.

"I-I’m sorry," he stuttered back, feeling utterly ridiculous "good morning, Paige"

Walter had only pronounced her name out loud a couple times before, and so it felt kind of awkward coming out of his mouth. When he finally got himself together to look up at her, she seemed like she was holding back a grin.

Paige settled for a wide smile and proceeded to tap the screen of the monitor in front of her. Walter was a bit surprised to find out she’d changed a little since the last time he saw her. Her hair was pulled up in a high pony tail and her bangs looked slightly longer, almost reaching her eyelids now. The early morning light brought out a nice sun-kissed tone on her skin and made her eyes shine a warm hazelnut color too. Sun bathing, maybe? And hadn't the bags under her eyes lessened a little bit? Moderate sun exposure increases levels of vitamin D and may help increase overall sleep quality…

She looked quite stunning, actually.

"…than usual, today"

Walter shook his head, eyebrows scrunched up together "I'm sorry, what?"

Paige flashed him another gentle smile rendering him slightly dazed "I said you look a little more tired than usual today. Walter, are you okay?"

Apparently he was also slower than usual because it took him a whole three-seconds' time to process that question "Yes, yes, I'm fine" he said, before he resumed to the suddenly difficult task of retrieving the right amount of money from his wallet.

She raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly dissatisfied with his rushed answer.

He frowned, evidently confused, as he quickly went over the whole exchange before it finally downed on him. "I'm fine, thank you" he added.

"You're getting so much better…I'm actually proud!" she admitted, handing him the printed receipt. "You know the drill: I'll call your name when the order is ready. It shouldn't take long"

Walter was about to deliver what was most likely a completely unnecessary scientific fact when his phone buzzed inside his pocket snapping him back to reality. The security software, he thought, alarmed, as he swiped left below Toby's caller ID to answer.

"I hope you're all done with the flirting and driving your ass back with our coffees right now" he said.

"Almost there" the genius replied, cursing out loud at the time on his wristwatch. "Has Cooper showed up yet?"

"No, but it shouldn't take her more than five minutes. I don't think that woman has ever been late to something, not even her birth"

Walter rolled his eyes and looked at his wristwatch once again. Even if he sped, he'd never make it to the garage in time if he waited for his order to be ready "See you there" he said, then hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Is everything alright?" Paige asked from behind the bar, a couple feet apart from him.

"Actually…no" he replied, a silent apology drawn all over his face "I have to go"

Paige blinked, puzzled "What?"

"I'm sorry!" he shouted as he dashed through the doors and towards the parking lot.

"Walter, wait!" she shouted back, a cup holder in her hand

He was not able to see the noticeable disappointment in Paige's face.

Walter always thought he was one to get things done without complaint.

He could take on time-sensitive and dangerous missions every day, but it had always been the ensuing paperwork that got the best of him. He was vaguely aware of the few perks of working for the government, but having to write reports and fill out endless forms every time they worked on something was far away from being considered among them. Especially because no matter how many times he reviewed said reports, they always made sure to comment on virtually anything about them: the language used, the length, the blank space on the comments section…

Walter would've given anything to ditch that insufferable task and take a look at the equations Sylvester was working on the board or see what was going on with that faint smell of smoke coming from Happy's workplace… even take a look at the book Toby was reading at the living room with his feet over the coffee table. But he was well aware that the paperwork wouldn't do itself over the night and if he neglected to work on it for another day, he might as well never do it at all.

He sighed and frowned at the insurmountable pile of paperwork before his eyes wishing he'd have some sort of supernatural ability to make it disappear. At this point he thought anything would do, though he'd like to admit that laser-like vision was one of his favorites. Walter rolled his eyes at this ridiculous trail of thought. He had to be very desperate to bring up his sparse knowledge on sci-fi material to occupy his mind.

In fact, Walter was so engrossed in the many uses he could think of for laser-like vision that he missed the knock on the door. At first, it seemed like nobody else noticed, but Toby ended up being the one to answer it, not after shooting the rest of the team a skeptical look. Cabe had left thirty minutes before, so it was rather unlikely that it'd be him, at least not with L.A. traffic this late in the afternoon. Could be another lost delivery guy…

Except that it was neither Cabe nor the disoriented delivery guy from the recently open restaurant two blocks away.

"Hi—uh, I'm sorry," she stuttered "my name is—"

"Paige" Toby interrupted her, obviously amused. Walter's eyes widened. "What a pleasant surprise…"

"Yes, uh, how did you— "Nevermind. I'm looking for Walter O'Brien?" she added, doubtful.

Three pairs of eyes turned in his direction, Toby's exceedingly amused, of course, as of Happy and Sylvester's…well, they looked mostly confused, although he doubted the mechanic's grin and raised eyebrow could be classified under confused. Walter had never stood up so fast in his life.

Keep it casual, he reminded himself.

The behaviorist seemed like he was about to deliver what was most likely a very embarrassing remark, but luckily, Walter's own curiosity beat him to it. A bright smile appeared on Paige's face as soon as he caught sight of him by his desk and left him momentarily dumbfounded —for the second time in that day, he recalled.

"Paige?" he asked, evidently confused as he rounded his desk awkwardly "W-what are you doing here?"

Walter could almost feel everyone's eyes on him, even Toby's as he politely invited the barista in and rekindled his place at the couch. The genius would've swore he heard kissing sounds as he walked past him, but was happy to see Paige didn't seem to notice when he finally approached her.

She looked the same way she did in the morning, except she had replaced the dark blue apron and white t-shirt underneath, for a loose pink camisole and a denim jacket.

"I'm so glad I found you" she said, her hazelnut eyes were beaming with excitement "you're a very difficult man to find"

"I am?" Walter shook his head "How did you know where I—"

Paige held her finger up in the air as she started rummaging inside her handbag "Hold on”.

"You dropped your wallet at the coffee shop this morning" she said, finally fishing the item from her bag.

It was indeed his wallet what Paige was holding in front of him. It looked foreign in her hand though, had he not patted his back pocket, he would've probably contemplated she was mistaken just like the lost delivery guy. It had been more than twelve hours since he'd been at the coffee shop, how could he have possibly missed that?

"It is my wallet indeed" he said.

"I hope you don't mind me looking inside for some kind of information…" she trailed off "promise I didn't take anything"

"No, no, of course not" Walter added, "I-I would've never thought—"

Paige's eyes looked warm, she smiled at him shyly.

"Thank you" he said after a short pause, bowing his head a little bit.

"No problem" she said, hunching her shoulders "you still owe big time, though"

They stood there for about half a minute looking anywhere but each other, until Walter had the common sense to take the damned wallet from her hand and put it in the back pocket of his pants. What was so intriguing about the stray lock of hair that escaped her pony tail, anyway?

"Well...It was nice seeing you again" she said, offering him a smile before she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Walter sort of…panicked. He stretched his arm, not quite sure about what he was actually doing, and was just in time to grab the strap of her handbag as she pulled the heavy door open. The cool autumn breeze did nothing to clarify his thoughts, but for once his familiar unfiltered self served him right by blurting out the words: "Is—uh, is there any way I could…repay you?

Paige stood there, halfway in halfway out, for a terrifyingly long second that got Walter thinking about all the ways he could apologize to her, before she finally turned on her heel and faced him again, a wide grin on her face.

She then proceded to fetch a pen from her bag and stuck it between her teeth as she said "You can always try" before grabbing his arm to scribble down a series of numbers on his skin.

Walter looked to his forearm, incredulous. Was that…?

"I like Italian food, by the way" the barista said as she exited the garage.

#stuffiwrite #cbs scorpion #walter o'brien #paige dineen #team scorpion #coffee shop au #waige #the early beginning of waige magic #fluff #i miss scorpion so much #walter's nerdy unfiltered self trying to decipher his crush on a certain coffee shop barista #scorpion reimagined by me lol #fanfiction #alternativeuniverse

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vsquadgoals · 5 years ago

Note

#23 with Jeff ❤️

23: ‘Exhausted parent kiss.’

Sorry this took me so long! It was a long few days.

Y/n and Jeff had just brought home their new baby boy two days ago and they were struggling a bit. Their baby boy Callan was terrible acid reflex and refused to sleep, he fought his sleep unless Jeff or Y/n was holding him. Y/n was sitting in the rocking chair in his nursery trying to get him back to sleep after feeding and swaddling him tightly. Her eyes were so heavy she could barely keep them open, Callan hadn’t slept for more then an hour since they came home from the hospital. Most of the time it was Y/n who had to wake up with him because one of the only things that helped sooth his burning esophagus was her breast feeding him, but Jeff got up with him as often as he good even if it was only for a short amount of time to let Y/n sleep for an extra 20 minutes to an hour. Finally Callan was asleep so Y/n made her way into her shared bedroom with her fiance Jeff, she laid their sun into his bassinet on her side of the bed. She laid carefully on the bed trying not to wake Jeff.

Y/n was able to sleep for a whole two hours before Callan was screaming crying jolting them awake. She sighs and leans over picking him up and lays him on her chest rubbing his back humming trying to sooth the crying baby, Jeff sits up and yawns rubbing his eyes, he looks over at his phone checking the time, 1AM. Jeff leans over and peppers kisses on Y/n’s flushed cheeks from sleep. “Let me take him so you can sleep a little more.” He whispers noticing her heavy lids threatening to close. Y/n nods and yawns handing a now calm baby to Jeff. “His medicine is in the kitchen.” She says before laying back down, Jeff nods and kisses Callan’s forehead before leaving the bedroom. Jeff was up with him for another hour before he finally fell back asleep his medicine finally kicking in, he lays him back in his bassinet before he climbs back into bed. Jeff wraps his arms around Y/n’s waist pulling her body against his, she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled sleepily. “Thank you.” She whispers before Jeff places sleepy kisses on her lips and they soon let sleep overcome them for as long as their little boy will let it.

#prompt request #blurb #Jeff Wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek fanfic #jeff wittek blurb #daddy!Jeff

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moonlightreal · 4 years ago

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Fate episode 5

Welcome back to Elemental Academy! When we left, the three adults had fallen prey to inescapable Plot of being adults in a YA franchise and decided “we must hide the truth and manipulate our students, for their own good.” Words cannot convey how sad this makes me. The three of them having their moments as competent, experienced residents of a magical world was the neatest thing in this show.

But first, we just got a backstory bomb courtesy of Beatrix! Let’s give it a closer look before we dive into episode 5.

So Beatrix’s story is that a peaceful town called Aster Dell was surrounded by Burned Ones and the powers that be decided to nuke the place, sacrificing the humans to take out the Burned Ones. And that decision was made by our three adults, Miss Dowling, Silva and Harvey, and Rosalind, and Queen Luna. But Rosalind had an attack of conscience and turned against the others, and managed to save two babies from the town, Bloom and Beatrix. She left Beatrix with a friend and dumped Bloom in the human world. The three Alfea adults captured Rosalind and stuck her under the school, and Queen Luna cast an illusion over the ruins of Aster Dell to… erase the event from history in a world where Instagram exists? How does THAT work? That was apparently the last stand of the Burned Ones because they all vanished until just now.

It certainly paints our adults in a bad light! But is it true? I mean we did hear it from Beatrix! She not only… is Beatrix… she wasn’t there at the time. Maybe the Burned Ones had already killed everyone before the town was nuked. Maybe the adults thought the townsfolk were already dead and nuked the place on bad intel. Maybe Queen Luna nuked the town and the three teachers were just helping clean up after. Maybe Luna ordered them to do it, she is QUEEN after all. Maybe the adults knew that nuking this one town would end the Burned One threat forever and were willing to sacrifice hundreds to save millions. I mean, there’s not really a GOOD excuse to nuke a town, but there’s better and worse reasons.

Gee, it’d help if we knew what Burned Ones actually were and where they come from!

...Hang on, how sure are we that Sky’s father is actually dead? Because he hung out with all these adults and he’s a “he.” And he’s in a photo therefor there’s an actor to play him. If he’s the friend who raised Beatrix then B would have grown up knowing only his and Rosalind’s side of the story, not any circumstances that might make the Alfea adults look non-awful. Then Beatrix wouldn’t even have to be lying. Of course that raises the question of why Andreas would be raising Beatrix instead of his actual son, a weird parenting choice. Maybe he just would’ve rather have a daughter! Sky seems to have turned out all right with Silva as foster-dad.

So, anybody wanna lay bets? Is reappearing dead dad more or less likely than a master Burned One hiding in a cave? (and yes I know most of you have already seen the last episode and are laughing at me trying to guess, and that makes me happy.)

Ok, let’s hit episode 5!

We open at night, some guards stand stoically outside while we torture Beatrix! She’s shrieking and rolling around with the antimagic cuffs biting into her wrists while Dowling tries to read her mind. Silva expresses worry that they’re hurting the girl and Dowling says, ‘I’m pushing through her mental defenses, it’s painless. This is an act.”

And it probably is, because Beatrix sits up and starts on, “Nobody will believe you, I have the better story. Everyone will whisper that you’re torturing poor fragile me.”

Dowling asks questions about where she went with Bloom, why kill Callan, is Bloom in on it with you, do you have anything to do with the Burned Ones… Dowling, you look a little pathetic not knowing all those things!

Beatrix is being creepy as blazes, 10/10 for her actress narrating the rumors that will spread about her own torture. ‘Her screams echoed through the school… then one day, they stopped. No one knows what happened to the poor girl, but everyone knows who did it.” this is marvelously delivered. I wonder if Beatrix is planning her own death to make it look like Dowling killed her. How obsessed with her idea of revenge is she?

And Beatrix wins! Her description drives Dowling from the room and Silva after an uncomfortable look back and forth, follows her out. The two specialists standing guard continue stoic. they’re outside the big doors from the last episode, inside is a big cage with a bed and stuff for keeping prisoners in semi-comfort. But the walls are paper thin and apparently this has been going on for a week! I think B just screamed a lot all week and only now spilled her plans.

Alfea has stone dungeons with thick walls, why aren’t we using one of those? Or why haven’t the police come take her away to charge her with murder? Are the Alfea teachers the entire justice system of Solaria? I think the teachers are going under the table and Beatrix played them.

With a week of torture added, we’re now 3-4 weeks into the school year.

Bloom is outside, hiding behind a car, watching the adults leave the cell. She starts texting when Dane comes up behind her. He says he knows what she’s doing and Bloom does the most badly-acted little grin when she says she’s not doing anything. But Dane says he’s on guard duty tomorrow night and he’ll help her get in to talk to Beatrix.

Interesting that it’s Dane and Bloom, not Dane and Riven, or just Riven.

Opening!

We jump to Bloom and Sky fighting a Burned One in a hedge maze! But it’s only an illusion training dummy, it turns into one of those big glass gemstones.

Sky has a little cut on his face and Bloom closes it with magic. Just cauterizes it I assume, unless she has healing magic and we weren’t told. Healing is usually under the water or earth element in these sorts of systems.

Bloom: “I just wish they’d tell us how to fight these things.”

Yes, fighting teachers should do that. Kind of the point of having teachers.

Everybody else is fighting too! The fairies seem to have joined the specialists on their mats. Another girl throws fire, so Bloom’s not the only fire fairy here. Riven shows off his stick-fighting skill. Dowling and Silva watch, with Aisha taking notes on a clipboard as Dowling’s new assistant. Terra shows off her vines grabbing… is that a new adult? We don’t get a good look but it looks like a man in specialist gear. Bloom and Sky’s voiceover says, “It’s like they’ve gone full wargames.” and “Well they were soldiers before they were teachers so it’s on-brand for Alfea faculty.”

Harvey arrives in the hedge maze and Sky asks for a hint. This is the only exercise he and Bloom can’t pass.

Subtitles (thanks for the suggest, january-summers!) say Harvey’s first name is Ben. And he’s gonna lay some info on us! ‘Inside each burned One is a magical core called a cinder, and with time and finesse you can use your magic to destroy it.” That… seems like a factoid that should’ve been shared in the “all about Burned Ones” lecture that should have happened at the beginning of this martial push? Just sayin?

He also explains how fairy-and-specialist fighting works. The fairy must trust her specialist to protect her so that she can “channel controlled magic” without freaking out and lighting the woods on fire when a monster comes at her. And he must trust her to destroy the thing. Ok, that makes sense. That works. So is it normal for fairies and specialists to team up in pairs? Is that what they do in the army too? Were Dowling and Silva one such pair? Maybe Harvey and his unseen wife were and she’s unseen because she died in the war. Now I’m imagining Mrs. Harvey was a badass specialist.

Bloom flirtatiously asks if she can trust Sky and he more sensibly asks if he can trust her. He thinks Bloom was being awfully teachers-pet to Harvey. Bloom says since the outing with Beatrix everyone’s been watching her like a hawk, wondering if she’s Beatrix’s evil henchwoman. They joke about Bond villains and Sky has seen several James Bonds. Then they go back for another try against the illusory Burned One.

But they are being watched! In fact Bloom is being watched by Sky, who gets a very meaningful look from Silva as he goes past. Dowling eyeballs Bloom, who smiles innocently back. The teachers are walking with Aisha and Musa, And Musa is reading Bloom and Sky to see if they’re tired yet. She does say “I know they know I’m doing it, but it still feels invasive.” Musa would rather use magic on a real enemy! But Dowling says mind reading is support magic and that’s just as important. ‘Your magic can help us assess fragile states of mind or uncover hidden enemies.’

Aisha asks, ‘like Beatrix?” and Musa asks how B is doing and if they found out why she killed Callan. But Dowling just says, ‘let’s keep focused.” which, I can see why she’s not telling them everything but she is playing right into Beatrix’s hands.

Terra’s getting a drink of water on break between sparring. A girl specialist with a great hairdo, buns up the back of her head, compliments Terra on her vine restraint move. Terra says, ‘thanks, it’s all bout the tensile strength of the cellulose.”

Riven comes and sits down by Terra and says, “Tensile strength. Hot.” Terra, not sure what to make of that either but knowing Riven, pointedly ignores him. But Riven is having one of his likeable moments and says, ‘She’s right you know. you’re a force out there.”

Wanna comment on two things. First, Freddy Thorpe who plays Riven is great. He keeps making me want to like his objectively awful character. And he’s a fine lookin’ dude, the grin, the scruffy stubble… I hope he goes far as an actor. And second, the leather sword vests the specialists wear are really neat. Swords attach to the back somehow, Riven’s got a couple of potion bottles in pockets—which I hope they’re plastic and empty, glass bottles and fighting do not mix! And I’m not sure if it’s a vest or a vest and shoulder scabbard and separate belt. But all the specialists have them, and we know this show doesn’t spend much on props… I wonder if I can find the source?

Not immediately, it turns out. Anybody better with renfaire gear know where to get these things? Or what they’re called?

Polite Terra says, “You too.” but Riven wasn’t. He was garbage at fighting. Terra kindly says, ‘It’s been a weird week.” and “I know you and Beatrix were… close, so it must be really hard.” Terra is sweet. You can see her kinds thinking it would be kind to say those things even though she’s not keen on Riven.

Dane walks by and says, “Sweet moves Riv, I’ve never seen anybody die so many ways so quickly. You should go for Alfea’s Got Talent.” heh.

Riven says that was a burn from ‘the first-year monster I created. Or Beatrix created.” he says Dane still has a thing for Beatrix… ok HE says “A hard-on for her. A weird, gay hard-on. Is he even gay? I don’t know anything anymore.” and I chuckled because Riven is so delightful when he’s not being a terrible person. Terra just sits there with that Terra expression like she doesn’t know what to say to that, and now she’s probably worried that by dumping Dane last episode she drove him to the dark side.

Indoors, Sky catches Silva and calls him out on pairing them together so he can spy on Bloom. Silva says since they’re both strong in their roles nobody questioned it. But Sky is not feeling great about the whole situation. The more he talks to Bloom the more convinced he is of her basic innocence, and-- “Stella’s gone, Riven’s a mess, and the person I’m spending the most time with I’m spying on.”

Silva gives him a pep talk, that this matters and it may be lonely but it’s to keep the Otherworld safe. And this is honor. Sky hesitates, sighs, then nods and keeps walking.

Silva is drawn back into his memories! First of being grievously injured and falling down, then I think to another earlier memory recovering after a fight in the forest side by side with Sky’s father. Who has a serious beard! Andreas gently mocks his friend for not being tough enough and says Sky might be more useful. Sky who’s presumable a little kid at the time. Younger Silva calls him on it, asking when he last even saw his son. Andreas turns away.

The gang’s all here in flashback, Younger Dowling looks on while Harvey’s dissecting the dead Burned One saying ‘we still have a lot to learn about them.” Andreas spits on it and Harvey says, ‘Or we could contaminate it. Ok!” Heh. And here comes Rosalind congratulating the four of them on taking it down in under three minutes but saying next time they should shoot for under two.

Back in the present the adults are watching video of the students sparring on a tablet in Dowling’s office. Dowling is unhappy none of them took down an illusion Burned One, most of them just gave up! Silva says that’s why they’re in training, they’re not ready yet.

Do these three know about the Burned One Aisha pinned to a tree? The girls plus Sky have taken out two so far, which isn’t a lot but is more than zero.

Badass Marco comes in and he’s in trouble! He and his partner whose name turns out to be Noura took out a Burned One near the school—but it wasn’t alone! Now Marco has been poisoned! Harvey rushes for the medicine. Marco says “we were taught that Burned Ones are solitary hunters, but two of them traveling together..?”

Dowling says, ‘It’s rare but it happens.” and I don’t know if that’s true or she’s just saying it to look like she’s on top of the situation.

Silva says they should warn “the Solarians” and Marco says he tried, they’re not answering! And they pulled their troops from the battalion. Dowling says Queen Luna has been “distant” since she pulled Stella out of school. Marco says they’re low on manpower and “if the Solarians abandon us we’re in serious trouble.”

But isn’t Alfea IN Solaria? It was on the globe. They have separate armies? Maybe the Solarian army is their actual army and the specialist/fairy pairs trained at Alfea are a separate thing? Maybe Alfea trains elite magical troubleshooters and the Solarian army is made up of trained mundanes? But wouldn’t the government of the country want to be in control of all armies in that country so there’s no extra armies rattling around getting into trouble? And Dowling is Luna’s subject so... How does this WORK, show?

Be nice to know what the ratio of magic users to mundanes in the Otherworld is, too.

Over in the girls’ suite, Aisha pensively braids her hair and Terra happily moves her plants around. The lights are on and there’s sunlight coming through the curtains but the room is still dark, reminding us we’re supposed to be in a grimdark show. 9_9 Batman could’ve just paid his electric bill, then he wouldn’t have to be the DARK knight… sorry, sorry, I actually like grimdark I just have no patience for literally dark when it makes no sense.

Musa gets texts from Sam. Musa and Terra have a cute chat about how Musa’s dating Sam. terra’s happy about it. Terra is also moving her hundred plants into Stella’s empty room so it “won’t feel so ghostly in there.”

Terra: “and it’s been a week. We have to accept she’s not coming back. No matter how much we wonder how she’s doing, call or text...” and she lists every EARTH social media platform she’s checked Stella on. Musa asks if she misses Stella and Terra immediately says, “No! She was mean and insulting and left without saying goodbye, which was actually the meanest thing...” Musa asks if her insults would be a good substitute. Heh.

Terra made her outfit! She fishes for a Stellaish insult from Musa by mentioning that. Wow, Terra, you get cooler every time! Sewing is hard! I have trouble with just doll clothes!

A pot falls and breaks in Stella’s empty room. An omen!

Bloom is watching her phone like a hawk as she pretends to study. Aisha comes in to offer the, “I know you feel like you can’t trust Dowling, but you can talk to me. I wouldn’t tell.” but Bloom gets a text that Dane is starting his shift and hops up to go do her own investigation. On the way out Bloom gets a call from her folks. She doesn’t answer.

Aisha goes to the others, “We need to talk about Bloom. She’s been single-minded about her birth parents and Rosalind for weeks. And now it seems like she doesn’t care at all. Are we meant to believe she’s just over it? I know she’s keeping something from us.” And the girls put the pieces together! She was texting Dane, Terra heard that “Dane is still team Beatruix”

And Dane has knocked out his fellow guard with a sedative! Boy is that a bad idea! Bloom gapes. Dane says, “She’s waiting.” in the most doomful way.

And there’s B sitting on her bed in her dark room, fiddling with the magic cuffs. they’re like barbed wire and are messing up her wrists. She greets Bloom with, “Took your sweet time!” Bloom immediately wants to know if the murder thing is true, and B cops to it. Callan was also there to break Rosalind out, which we knew and now Bloom does. B says, ‘bit more complicated than evil beatrix kills hapless assistant.”

Bloom: “Dowling, Silva and Harvey haven’t told me the truth about a lot of things but that doesn’t mean you have.” Yay Bloom! Skepticism! But Bloom is determined to find out what really happened and Beatrix knows where Rosalind is. But only if Bloom gets her out of the cage. Beatrix says Bloom shouldn’t trust her, the faculty, her friends, anybody but Rosalind.

That’s interestingly hero-worshipy of B. She’s never MET Rosalind, how does she know Rosalind is a good guy? Or, y’know, whatever Beatrix thinks of as a good guy.

And Bloom’s along for the ride. Dane gives her a magic thingamabo she can charge up that’ll get the cuffs off Beatrix and then they can go to town. On the way out Bloom asks Dane why he’s helping her. Even if they were friends, hello, murder! Dane says, “She’s the only person here who ever made me feel like being different was a good thing.” And Bloom says she’s helping because “Beatrix is the only one who’s giving me answers.”

Because the adults are caught in Plot! And we can see where this Plot is going. Bloom releases Rosalind, who turns out to be master of the Burned Ones and they attack Alfea. Great job, teachers, what a dumb Plot you are caught in!

What Dane gave Bloom was another big leatherbound book called Ancient Geometry. Not usually an evil art, but she hides the book in her bag the next morning. It looks like she’s awake before Aisha but when she leaves Aisha’s eyes immediately open. She was pretending to be asleep to spy on Bloom!

More outdoor specialist training. they’ve got some gear, Riven’s doing that arm exercise where you wave two hoses up and down. Musa picks up a staff and twirls it expertly. Riven comes over to flirt. Musa says she used to be a dancer, that’s where she got the moves. And she misses being physical. Riven I think is venting about something else when he says, “Well too bad. You’re a fairy, they don’t care what you wanna be in this place only what they want you to be.” Musa reads his mind and gets all of Riven’s hate for Alfea. Which, yeah, they locked his girl in a cage.

Also is it even true? Are fairies not allowed to study martial arts? Martial arts is great for emotional control and confidence which would be great for magical control. I mean it certainly could be that Alfea forces people into roles, but I haven’t seen evidence.

Then Sam comes by and he and Musa head back to the suite where she jumps on him for a makeout session! Sam puts the brakes on asking if Musa’s upset about something and yeah, she’s angry that mind fairies are support type, they’re “powerless when things actually go wrong.’

Which… true, since Musa can only receive. She might be able to know the location of every enemy and ally making her super valuable in battle, but if she could project emotion just for a second, jolt an opponent mid attack… but she can’t. I see her point.

But we get a character building hint! “A long time ago, family stuff...” And that’s all. She says it’s nothing, that she’s just frustrated, and suggests Sam take advantage of that frustration. Which he is happy to do! Musa shoves him down on the bed, hops on top and takes her shirt off! Behind this increasingly steamy scene we see one of Terra’s potted plants revolve… then it crashes to the ground, breaking the pot and the mood. Sam yelps in surprise.

Sam: “Please don’t judge me on my completely legitimate and masculine fear of ghosts which are legitimately creepy...” Hah! I like you, Sam.

So… do ghosts actually exist in the Otherworld or are they just seen a lot but not proven same as in ours?

But the moment is gone and Musa says she should find the girls. She puts her shirt back on and Sam leaves, both of them happily looking forward to their next chance at sexytimes.

Alone and with her shirt back on, Musa scans the room and detects another person!

Stella appears!

Stella’s here! She snuck back a few days ago, and has been hiding invisibly in her room!

But before we can hear the details we go to Bloom at the stone circle. She’s got the geometry book and a round metal doohicky that she has to charge up to free Beatrix. She puts it down and channels magic into it, lighting up some jewels on it. I can’t immediately identify this thing, it’s too big to be jewelry, palm-sized.

Sky turns up and Bloom tries to hide the book. Sky can tell she’s doing it, and he’s tired of all the sneaking. So he comes out and says that Silva has him spying on Bloom—and that he knows Bloom’s not up to anything. But it was an order. Bloom is naturally pretty pissed off! She says quite sensibly, ‘He used you, used our friendship—but I’m the bad guy right?”

I wonder how much of this is because Bloom’s from Earth. If she’d grown up in the Otherworld would she be less surprised at specialists following orders? Would she have heard of the adults’ great deeds in the war and been more inclined to trust them?

Anyway Bloom goes to hide the book again and Sky grabs it. He asks what the magic thingamabob is and Bloom looks away super-guilty. Sky: “I’m trying to be on your side here but you’re making it really difficult.”

Which is just how I feel about this show quite often!

Sky says Bloom can trust him, Bloom says she’s not sure she can and starts to tell him about Aster Dell.

Back in Stella’s room poor Stella is telling Musa about her mother.

And her mother, in hologram form, is in Dowling’s office while Dowling asks why she withdrew her troops, when two Burned Ones have been seen together which hasn’t happened in a long time. The show cuts back and forth between the two scenes.

...Stella says the army’s all out looking for HER! That’s why. But Luna won’t look at Alfea, ‘To do that she’ll have to admit she lost control of something, and that’ll never happen.”

Luna: But you’re training the students to fight. isn’t that supposed to be what you’re teaching my daughter?”

Stella: ‘Project strength and power. that’s all she cares about. And I’m an extension of her strength”

Dowling: ‘Is this some sort of punishment? For not rehabilitating Stella in the way you wanted?”

Stella: “My magic has to be powerful at any cost. that’s what she taught me”

Luna pooh-poohs the idea that it’s punishment, “but you might consider updating your methods. Given the threats we face.”

...Evil queen wants to turn Alfea to the ways of the Sith? THAT’S the plot we’re going for here? Ok, solid plot, I guess. Could be worse. But Luna is a bargain basement evil queen if ever I saw one, she wears suits! And too much foundation! Where’s the spiky crown and overabundance of eyeshadow? Maybe they were going for an Umbridge kinda character.

Stella: ‘My mum treated me growing up… when positive emotions didn’t work she went right to the negative. Hard.”

Dowling: “My methods are effective. And they don’t cause students to lose control and blind their friends!”

Stella: ‘My magic is erratic because of her.” And Luna disappears and we get to hear the rest of Stella’s story. Blinding Ricki was an accident, as we could guess, but Stella would rather be seen as a “raging bitch” than weak. It was safer with her mom. Stella does know how messed up this is, and when she got home her mom immediately started abusing her again. No mention of stella having a dad, but Queen Luna’s clearly the ruling party.

Musa says Stella doesn’t have to hide, all the girls will help her. Stella says, ”Are you kidding? Do you know how judgmental; they are?”

I think the mind reader would know better than you, Stella! So there’s Stella’s sad story. And we don’t have to go to the palace of Solaria to rescue her like I was hoping we would.

From that heavy scene we jump to the cafeteria, where bad-boy music plays as Dane gets his lunch. he’s smoking a cigarette! And Terra is literally hiding behind a pillar in her homemade dress waiting for him. He lights up and Terra pounces!

They talk, Dane says rather sensibly, ‘I do one bad thing and you cut me off” and “Beatrix never made me feel this bad.’ and Terra says also sensibly, ‘but murder.” and Dane tries to flee and Terra vine-grabs his ankle and Dane takes a pull on his cigarette and Aisha water-guns it out and the two of them interrogate him on what he’s up to with Bloom. Dane has no chance.

Over to Bloom and Sky. Bloom must’ve finished her story since Sky is telling his while Bloom charges the thingy. He’s lived at Alfea his entire life, with Silva as his foster father. Bloom brings up some of the things I thought of, that Silva might be part of a massacre if he believed it was for the greater good. Bloom doesn’t think the adults are evil but she thinks they’re hiding the truth to protect themselves, too. Bloom says at least Sky grew up hearing stories of his parents from people who knew them.

It looks cold and Sky offers Bloom his jacket. And Sky is wearing a bright blue shirt and darker blue jacket, almost like a Red Fountain uniform. I wonder if that’s a holdover from a stage when this was going to be a Winx show. But Bloom just summons fire in all the braziers to keep warm.

Sky says, ‘Don’t need anyone do you?” and bloom says he’s “a fixer” and she doesn’t need to be fixed. Sky talks about his father the “great Andreas” the war hero who he’s heard so many stories about, “It’s almost like he’s still alive. But he’s not. he’s an ideal. Do you have any idea how hard that is to live up to? Even Silva, it’s like he’s playing some role out of a sense of duty. When all I really want..” poor Sky. He says he’s a fixer because he’s broken and everyone is.

Anyway it ends with them kissing.

Then the magic thingy is charged. Bloom says she does trust Sky, but if she told him he’d stop her.

Then Sky faints!

Bloom doped him with the sedative! It was in her water bottle that she shared with Sky. Wow, Bloom, dosing your own water bottle just in case you meet someone? That is impressively scary thinking ahead!

Bloom is clearly really guilty, but she still leaves Sky facedown on the ground in the circle! Hope no Burned Ones come along while he’s all passed out!

We go to the greenhouse where Harvey is doctoring Badass Marco who took a hit from a Burned One. Silva is hanging around and Marco, between grunts of pain, asks if he’s handling the pain better than Silva did. Harvey says the first Burned One poisoning is always the worst, it’s almost a rite of passage-- which suggests lots of people survive such injuries which is not the vibe we were getting a few episodes ago!

Marco asks about Andreas’ son helping take down the Burned One and if he inherited any of Andreas’ “less ideal qualities? His bloodlust?”

Ok, I’m callin’ it, dead surprisingly evil dad it is!

Silva just says Sky is his own man.

Marco is hurt but he’s not worried. He’ll survive weeks or months with the medicine, plenty of time for Noura and the battalion to get the Burned One. There’s Noura on the phone now! But… oh no! Noura is grievously injured and everyone else is dead! She’s out in the woods hurt and surrounded by lots of Burned Ones! We see on video call as poor Noura tries to run, goes down, and is taken out. Her phone lies on the ground sending a video of the trees—and fully half a dozen Burned Ones run past it!

Too bad. I expected Noura and Marco were for the chop, just because in these sorts of stories the trained adults have to be gotten out of the way so the teenage heroines can shine. But they were the interesting characters! They were professionals in a magical world. I wanted to learn more about them.

Bloom, like an amateur, heads to break Beatrix out but Dane isn’t there. Terra and Aisha are. Bloom sounds positively paranoid as she says, ‘Everyone here is lying to me! You don’t know what I know!” but they do, Dane spilled all the beans. Terra sounds about to cry as she says her dad would never do something like that. Bloom sounds super paranoid as she says to herself, ‘You’re his daughter and you’re Dowling’s little helper, I’m not gonna convince either of you, just like Sky.”

Aisha pushes back; she’s been spying on Dowling! For Bloom! And all she’s seen is how hard Dowling’s been trying to keep everyone safe.

Bloom says they lied about Rosalind being alive, lied about a war crime, “i get that you guys want to believe in them but they’re destructive maybe dangerous!”

Terra: “Bloom, listen to yourself, you literally sound like a crazy person.”

Aisha says they haven’t told the adults yet, but if Bloom tries to bust Beatrix out they will.

Bloom faces them like a cornered animal. Her eyes flame up. Terra and Aisha back away and Terra almost sobs, ‘We’re your friends, Bloom!”

Bloom stops and thinks. Friendship music plays. She gets the magic thingy out of her bag and gives it to Aisha. But when Aisha starts, ‘I know how hard...” Bloom says, “You don’t. None of you do.”

...why am I thinking about Higurashi right now? Maybe because everyone’s spying, nobody’s reaching out to their friends for help… y’all gonna get the bad ending! Hmmf. I prefer Oyashiro-sama’s curse over the YA Plot curse we’re laboring under. Characters I liked already died and as a father figure type Silva is likely next to meet a sticky end. I’m ANNOYED with this show right now.

And back in the suite Stella is saying she “can’t believe everyone’s listening to Aisha like she knows anything” and that the suite has gone to shit without her. And Stella’s been pushing plants over whenever she gets annoyed since she doesn’t want to appear. “I have opinions. If I can’t express them verbally, I’m not above poltergeisting.” just like Riven, Stella makes me absolutely hate her one second and then says a line that makes me smile. I dunno what to do with these two. Marvelous actors both of them, for playing such two-ways-at-once characters and making it work!

Then Stella gets invisible again and Aisha and Terra come in. They stopped Bloom but they think she’s losing her marbles. Which, yep, seems so. Aisha thinks they kinda need to tell Dowling, even though they said they wouldn’t. A pot wobbles. Musa decides to shut that down real quick and just tells the others Stella’s here, so as not to have to clean up any more broken pots! Heh!

Stella appears.

Stella’s opinion: “Everyone in this suite is so damn black and white. Bloom is a pain in the ass but she deserves to know who she is, not the stories the faculty is telling her. We can worry about being right or we can help our friend. Which is it?”

Friend since when, Stella? Also, maybe protect your friend from being instrumental in the downfall of the school?

Dowling in her dark office. She gets a text from Silva: five or six Burned Ones. “Suit up, we’re going hunting.”

Sad music plays. Dowling opens up a chest and reveals, I think, the olive colored costume her younger self wore in the flashback.

And in my head an alternate Dowling smiles as her heart picks up speed at the thought of getting back in the saddle. The opposite of what we see on screen.

Then Bloom storms in, breaking this tragic headmistress moment. Having lost the magic thingy, bloom goes for the direct approach and demands to see Rosalind. Poor Dowling doesn’t have time for this, she’s got a Burned One hunt! But Bloom busts out, “I’m from Aster Dell! that’s where I was born, that’s where my birth parents lived, until you all destroyed it.”

Good direct approach, Bloom! Except you only know that from #1 untrustworthy source Beatrix, remember!

Dowling, shocked and horrified, turns away. It’s true. But, “You think we did it on purpose?”

Bloom: ‘That’s what Beatrix said. That Rosalind had a crisis of conscience and you did it anyways.”

Dowling: “Rosalind! Still manipulating people after all these years.”

Flashback to the five of them! Rosalind was the most powerful fairy at Alfea, and Dowling’s mentor. Feared but respected, never questioned.

We’re up on the high plains, I think the same place we saw Silva being grievously wounded in a flashback before. Dowling, rosalind and Harvey are up on a high knoll above Aster Dell, too far away to get a good look at what’s happening in the town.

Rosalind taught them to combine their magic, something nobody had known was possible. They call down lightning and yeah, basically nuke the town. But! Rosalind said she made sure the humans were evacuated and only Burned Ones were in there! They didn’t question their commanding officer, and they didn’t know until they walked into town and saw the bodies. Past dowling puts her hand to her mouth in horror.

Present Dowling has tears in her eyes. ‘if Aster Dell is where you’re from… there are no words I can say to make right the damage I’ve caused you.”

But Bloom shakes her head slightly. “Why would she do that?”

Dowling thinks it’s because Rosalind was a zealot who “Wanted every Burned One dead no matter the cost” and who lied because she knew her team wouldn’t have gone along with it if they knew there were civilians in the town.

Bloom demands, ‘What about me? Why did she put me in the human world?” But Dowling doesn’t know. Bloom again demands to see Rosalind, getting up in Dowling’s face. I feel like Bloom is somewhat enjoying this revenge, being able to back Dowling into a corner and shut her up.

Dowling grabs Bloom’s shoulders and says, “Whatever she has to give you is not worth unleashing her into the world again.” and the thing I wish she’d said a few episodes ago, “I’ll help you get the answers you need. You have my word.”

...and Bloom believed her and they all worked together and got the good ending!

But bad-ending music plays and Silva comes to get Dowling to come take down the Burned Ones and the look on Bloom’s face is definitely a gonna-get-the-bad-ending look.

In her cage Beatrix whimpers and cries out in pain as she tries to get the cuffs off her wrists.

In the stone circle Sky wakes up from his drugged slumber.

In gorgeous Ireland Bloom sits on a bench pondering her next choices. Musa and Terra come up and give her the magic key. They don’t want to be more people who are hiding things from Bloom. Aisha can’t quite get on board with breaking a murderer out, but Musa and Terra are up for it! And so is Stella, who appears beside the bench. Smiles all round. I love the bonding, but wish they could maybe be teaming up for something that’s not so obviously a bad idea. Just because y’all the main characters who won’t die doesn’t mean OTHER characters can’t die!

The real Stella never learned invisibility because why should she want to hide her awesome clothes? But for this Stella, it’s a pretty handy trick!

The adults are packing their gear for war into the black SUVs and heading out. The sun is low so it must be evening. It occurs to me though—I’ve been in England in May, many Mays ago, and it stays light until like nine at night because the UK is super-North. Maybe the difference in day length is why I keep getting tripped up about what time it is.

Sky has staggered back into the school where Riven finds him. Sky is relieved to learn that Beatrix is still locked up, but they have bigger fish to fry. Looks like the specialists are joining the hunt!

Bloom brings Beatrix the magic key and Beatrix frees herself!

It is definitely-night and definitely cold at the barrier where the three adults with half a dozen other soldiers stand just inside the barrier. Dowling uses her magic to amplify the sounds of the forest—that’d be air fairy stuff, so Dowling is mind and air at least. I wonder how usual it is for fairies to learn more than one element.

Sky and the specialists arrive, late, to the sound of snarling Burned Ones. Aisha’s here too. Silva says this is no time for extra credit, but Aisha isn’t looking for extra credit, ‘I’m here because you need to know what’s happening.”

In Dowling’s office Beatrix is planning to toss Dane through the trap just like she did with Callan!

Then Stella appears behind her and shoves HER through! Ha ha ha! Beatrix goes down, lips blue, breathing out frost. It must just be a freezing trap, nonlethal. Not that I would mind terribly if Beatrix weren’t in season 2; she has some charming moments and Sadie is a top class evil actress, but let’s ditch the slutty villainess trope maybe?

Stella: “Break out the villain to get what Bloom wants, then trap her again. Simple. My ideas rock.”

The girls go down the tunnel. Stella holds a ball of rainbow light above her hand.

Terra’s feeling troubled about what they’re doing. she’s always trusted her dad to lead her right, but ‘I don’t know if he’d lead me down here.”

Stella: “Even the best parents are doing what they think is best for us. At some point we have to take over for ourselves.” Truth, Stella. I’m just questioning if this is the right point or not. Then Stella plucks a bit of light from her light and sends it to float by Terra. ‘By the way, that outfit...’ She smiles and Terra smiles back.

Then we jump to Bloom, having a destiny-ridden moment. “Everything I’ve been looking for is right through that door.”

No Bloom, Rosalind is through that door and how do you know she’s going to tell you any more truth than anybody else? But through the door she goes.

And there’s the glowy barrier with Rosalind inside. She opens her eyes and uses mind magic to say, “Hello, Bloom.”

...y’all gonna get the bad ending.

#fate the winx saga #you get the bad ending

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