#little stage crew critters

[glitterghost]

A Battle of the Bands contest, incorporating all styles of music, but it's actually just Vessel showcasing the multifaceted talents of all genres he can touch on.

[theother-victoria]

now I’m thinking about going to see aventurine perform at a concert thanks to that animated short…

TAGS: nothing but cuteness, use of his real name, not proofread this is pure word vomit, just a little something between studying for finals, can you tell I love writing him as an affectionate loser, 1.3k wc

When Aventurine told you that he’d be performing at the upcoming Robin concert as the lead guitarist, you were pleasantly surprised, to put it shortly. He’s a man of many talents, but how he managed to secure a spot alongside the famous singer is beyond you. 

You don’t even have to ask if you could go. As soon as you’re about to pop the question, he presses something into your hand- tickets to the best seats in the venue and a highly coveted VIP backstage pass that you know people will be fighting to get their hands on. 

In the weeks leading up to the performance, he’s busy practicing. When he’s home, the sounds of him making his way through a difficult passage can be heard, along with the soft meows of your cat critter pets as they gather around him curiously. You’re the one to massage his cramping hands after hours of practice and kiss his weary fingertips that are starting to callus.

(“It’s sounding really good so far. You should take a break now,” you say as you set down some snacks and tea besides him. He shoots you a thankful smile but makes no move to stop practicing.

“No, it has to be perfect. After all, you’re going to be there. I can’t have my darling seeing me at anything less than my best, can I?”)

When the day of the performance comes and you arrive at the venue with a bouquet of flowers in hand, he’s already waiting and greets you with a big kiss on the lips and a grin on his face.

“Darling, you’re here! And so early at that. Are these for me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”

He’s quick to lead you backstage into the dressing rooms, where you see all the performers getting ready. The star of tonight’s show, Robin, is sitting at her vanity doing her makeup, gorgeous as ever. But in addition to her, you also spot a couple of other faces. A Knight of Beauty, the retainer of the Xianzhou Luofu’s general, and a… Stellaron Hunter? 

(From the back of your mind, you recall something about Aventurine telling you that it wasn’t just Robin performing; it was a collaboration with talented people from all over the galaxy. What a colorful cast of performers tonight… seems like that was true.)

It doesn’t take much convincing from him for you to help him with his makeup. You pull a chair up next to him as you begin doing his eyeliner.

“I know I can always count on you, darling.”

The look on his face is smug and you scowl.

“Stay still otherwise your eyeliner is going to end up all wobbly.”

Your face is illuminated by the led lights on the mirror and your brows are scrunched in concentration. He chuckles a bit before stealing a kiss from your lips, laughing when you sharply gasp. It’s a cute look on you, he thinks. But he likes seeing you flustered more. 

One of the stage crew members lets everyone know the show is about to begin. The other performers speed through the last of their makeup or warm-ups before leaving, until it’s just the two of you in the empty room.

With the start of the performance mere minutes away, stage fright is getting to Aventurine, even if he tries to brush it off. He adjusts his hat every few seconds and keeps fiddling with his guitar pick in place of his usual poker chip.

“Nervous?”

“Hah, me? Never,” he confidently declares, but you don’t miss the nervous quiver in his voice. You merely roll your eyes and sigh before stepping closer to him. One hand reaches out to fix his tie while the other reaches behind his back to grasp his left hand clenched into a tight fist. Your thumb traces soothing circles over the skin. The tension dissipates from his hand as he slowly unclenches his fist and lets it fall back to his side. 

“You’ll do amazing,” you say as you redo his tie. “You’ve been practicing so much you could play everything in your sleep at this point. And if you get nervous, know that I’m there in the audience. Just keep your eyes on me and it’ll all be fine.”

You tug at his tie one last time.

“All done now. Look at you, so handsome.” 

“For your eyes only,” he teases back with a wink. 

You pat down his suit jacket and adjust his hat one last time.

“Go and steal the show now, Kakavasha.”

He gives you a cheeky grin.

“No good luck kiss?”

“You don’t even need one considering you were blessed by a goddess. But come here.”

Yes, he demands a good luck kiss before the show begins. Yes, he also demands kisses during intermission where he sweeps you off your feet in an affectionate hug coupled with kisses all over your face.

“How was I back there?” he asks once he sets you down. He doesn’t seem to mind that others are watching with varying levels of amusement but he’s always been unapologetically shameless with his displays of affection. 

“Perfect,” you say. “You sounded even better up on stage than at home.”

But it’s not over yet. He has a solo in one of the pieces during the second half of the concert, and it’s what he’s most worried about.

Aventurine’s eyes wander during the pieces leading up to his solo and he notices a perpetually yellow lightstick glowing in the VIP section near the stage. Robin is performing right now, meaning that almost all of the lightsticks are glowing white. 

He smiles to himself. You really are too supportive of him. 

Robin stops singing and now it’s his time to shine. The spotlight hones in on him and follows him down the stage to the screams of fans. The lightsticks quickly switch from white to yellow, but his eyes are on one person only. 

You scream his name followed by an enthusiastic “I love you!” so loudly that you think you’ve made the people next to you go deaf. His gaze meets yours under the blinding lights and the way he looks at you- you think you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Like you told him to, he keeps his eyes on you. His breathing slows down and his trembling fingers gripping the fingerboard stop shaking. He readjusts his stance and without any further hesitation, dives into his solo.

Many in the audience vye for his attention, smitten by his good looks. They reach for him as he passes by, but his attention is on one person only. Your gaze grounds him, keeps the stage fright at bay, and encourages him to keep going, if only to fulfill his wish of you seeing him at nothing less than his very best. 

His solo is flawless. Perfect. As the last note reverberates through the air to the cheers of adoring fans, his eyes seek you out once more. His heart pounds in his chest, riding off the high of a successful performance- and your loving gaze. 

You watch as Aventurine spins around in place, seeking you out. When his eyes meet yours, you wave your lightstick excitedly and blow him kisses. You see the adrenaline rush written clearly all over his face, but also the joy in his eyes after seeing your pride in him. He pretends to catch the kisses you blow his way before blowing a few back. Your entire section erupts in chaos, but you alone stay put, gazing up at him with a tender and proud look that he always feels like he never deserves.

But tonight, he feels like he does. 

Aventurine is a born actor, able to fool everyone and himself. But in a crowd of many, he’ll always bare his heart for you. 

[pizzabox-box]

Haha hi good morning I woke myself up with this one I was thinking about it so hard. I may look back on this in four hours and have regrets. Hi Peppino I'm taking you up on your offer...

Noise and Doise broke apart and stumbled to opposite sides of the arena. Noise winced as he realized he was one good hit away from collapsing. That was his fault - he hadn't taken his intruder seriously until he had gotten critically wounded. Fortunately, the Doise was in a similar condition. Noise was certain that was because he had been using bombs instead of -

He spotted the rock barreling down towards his head just in the nick of time and jumped backwards. The projectile burst into a cloud of blue-gray dust from the impact, almost blinding him. He barely saw his assailant lunging towards him, narrowly avoiding the final blow. Two figures, completely covered in blood and dust, rolled out of the cloud, trying to get and stay on top of each other to finish the other off. The observers could barely tell them apart - in fact, even Noisette wasn't sure who her Noise was!

Suddenly, one of the figures was yanked off the stage by an unseen force, and with a sickening crack, his neck was broken and he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Immediately, the uncanny tendrils that had covered the studio started to recede, releasing their captives and returning the set to its former glory, if slightly color shifted.

Noisette stepped forward, a little nervous. "Theo?" she asked, shakily. The remaining figure turned to her and sighed with relief. "Noisette, are you all right?" he exclaimed, rushing up to her. Noise and Noisette hugged, and Dougie Jones ran to his master's side and started to heal him. The rest of the cast also gathered around him, generally asking about his well-being. Noise assured them all that all he needed now was a shower, a change of clothes, and some fresh makeup, and he'd be ready to start filming again.

However, the little Noisy was acting slightly odd. He tried to call attention to the body that was lying in the dust not three yards away. Noisette picked the little creature up and hugged him. "Aww, are you worried he's gonna hurt daddy again?" she asked. "Don't worry," Noise reassured them, "I'll make sure nobody ever sees that - that - THING, ever again!" The two decided to return home to get cleaned up and recover, and left the set, with a squirming Noisy in tow.

Later that night, Peddito returned to the studio. Something still felt off about the whole situation. He inspected the blue-gray, bloody corpse carefully, trying to see if Doise could have POSSIBLY faked his death - but no. The body was real, and stone-cold dead. So what felt so wrong? He looked up - and if he could have died again, he would have from the shock.

Standing in front of him was another phantom. He wore the same clothes he had in life, permanently tinted the color of Doise's stones, cape and costume. Under his mask, his face was completely blacked out. Peddito couldn't see his expression, but he could hear him as he asked, "What... happened? Why does my head hurt so much... who are you?" Peddito tensed up and took a fighting stance. "Don't play dumb with me, Doise! You might have followed me into the afterlife, but I'll make sure you burn - "

They were interrupted by a Noisy loudly climbing in through a window. The wee beastie ran straight towards the body and started rubbing against his face, looking straight at Peddito. The phantom gently but swiftly scooped the critter up, exclaiming, "No, don't mess with that! He could still - " he stopped short. If he had had blood left to run cold, it would have. "No," he muttered, barely able to get the word out, "it can't be!"

Pulling the fresh yellow suit on, Doise laid Noise's extensive collection of makeup on the bathroom counter and looked in the mirror as he put on his disguise, laughing triumphantly. The cast, the crew, the bosses, the wife, even Peddito - he had tricked them ALL!

Blind Man's Bluff

OH THIS IS GOOD. Send shivers down my spine, dang! Doise you sneaky little motherf- Oh, Peddito you got tricked, all of you got tricked actually, oh the poor Noisey...

If you're willing to continue to continue the story I'm willing to read more 👀 It has a really interisting premise

Glad that my work inspired others! :D

He doesn't regret anything.

Conveniently your story also answers this ask that has been laying in my inbox for a while.Double thanks! :D

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 1)

‘Twas a misty aftermoon when the sky was crowded with dark grey clouds and the airborne foul soared above the sparkling sapphire waves dancing with the gusty breeze guiding the sails of many a sailing ship, one particularly rowdy vessel was celebrating the successful aftermath of their latest battle with an infamous pirate crew. The leader of this unruly crew was the scrappy, rugged and sharp-witted Prince Charlie of the Dompler family. You’d be forgiven for assuming he was a mere swashbuckler than a Royal. Despite being the heir to the throne of his kingdom he was looked down upon his fellow Nobles for coming off as awkward, bumbling and unattractive. Charlie didn’t give two shits what the overglorified snobs thought about him because he’d rather prefer going on high-spirited adventures beyond the sea with his motley crew of sailors than waste his precious time on some boring luncheon just to get judged for merely being there.

“Damn son, you showed Salty who’s-who THIS time!” Chris cracked up as he raised his stubby hand to initiate a high five from Charlie, who happily accepted the offer. Tomar piped up: “Don’t forget how his little toadie Ketchup immediately ran and cried for his Captain for it once he saw you jump into the crow’s nest with the dagger in your mouth.” Lyle let out a chuckle when adding: “What a wimp.” The gang shared their own retrospective of the event with gleeful laughs. “Oh, I almost forgot-“ Charlie uttered, while revealing a bottle of high quality rum: “I swiped this before I left!” The sailors howled in delight at the treat their friend unveiled. “Charlie you sunovabitch, we love you!” cried Chris who already felt intoxicated by the strong smell reeking from the bottle. Charlie replied with a wink and a cheeky “finger gun” gesture before opening up the bottle and shouting: “Bring out yer flasks, maties!”

On the other corner steering the ship was it’s Captain whom they jokingly called “Mr. Boss”, he was also the closest thing Charlie had to a father since his own parents passed away sometime when the land critter was a merely a homunculi. Mr. Boss’ ears observed the rowdy party singing off-key in unison to a familiar sea shanty, a side effect of hitting the sauce. Mr. Boss chuckled and sang along with the crew as he navigated them back to their kingdom of Gremblonia.

“I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue And it's hey to the starboard, heave hoooooooo!!!! Look out, lad, a mermaid be waitin' for you-“

Charlie, who was a top the ship where the sails where draped, belted out with great gusto: “DOWN MYSTERIOUS FATHOMS BELOOOOOOOOW!!!”

~

Meanwhile, another kingdom below the surface, Meeplantica, the royal family was hosting a special concert in the Palace, peformed by the children of King Steven and Queen Bertha. Who was especially excited for this event was Alan Red, a lobster who was the designated royal composer and King Steven’s right hand man, who stayed up many moons writing new symphonies exclusive to the concert. “At last, I finally get to bestow my magnum opus.”

The anticipating crowd where greeted to the stage opening up revealing three large clamshells, with Alan raising his wand and the band began to play as two clamshells revealed the two eldest siblings, Damien and Amy, who harmonized: “Ah, we are the children of Bertha and Steven, great mother and father who raised us well!"

The third clamshell opened to reveal the youngest sibling…or at least it was meant to. The crowd gasped in shock as Alan has to do a double take in disbelief, Amy was holding back her urge to throw one of her classic primadonna tantrums in front of the crowd and Damien rolled his eyes knowing this concert was gonna hit a snag. Queen Bertha flipped out screeching hysterically while agonizing over where her youngest could be and King Pimling raised his fist and his trident to the sky shouting the name of his youngest in rage: “WHY THAT LITTLE-!!!!”

~

Within the outskirts of Meeplantica lay a shipwreck from long ago which would be collecting a lot of dust if it wasn’t literally underwater. Visiting this once bustling vessel was a cloaked sea critter carrying a tote weaved in kelp accompanied by a green guppy with a protruding snout, The critter wiggled his tail in excitement. “There it is, Glep! Isn’t it fantastic!?” As Glep finally caught up to his energetic and spontaneous friend, he got a good gander at the decaying exterior of the destination his friend had been hyping up all day…and he was disappointed to say the least. In a high pitched nasally gibberish he asked: “Eskewafibbyjibbywo! Jazazebayowozoio? (What a dump! Pim, you brought me all the way here for this?) Pim reassured: “It’s what’s on the inside that counts! Think of all the amazing things land critters have made that are just lying around under appreciated and unused…” he monologued whistfully while gazing through the window as some of his dark pink hair curls spilled through his hood. “I hope you’re not getting cold fins…but if you are I can stash you in my satchel for safe keeping.” Glep wasn’t scared as he was unimpressed, but he couldn’t leave Pim behind since he liked the guy. “Jazazewabozoyoboio. (Thanks, but I’ll stay here and watch out for sharks)” “Alright, this will be quick, I promise!” said Pim as he swam through the window and did a graceful twirl and a soft hum as he browsed through room-by-room. After acquiring some odds and ends like a pair of golden cuff links, opera glasses, a high heel and tons of silver wear, Pim finally came across an orient box gilded in gold. The ever curious mercritter popped the box open to reveal strands of stone beads and chains as well as a figurine of a couple holding hands almost as if they where dancing, just then Pim noticed the key on the back and wound it up, out came “twinkly” music and the couple finally started “dancing”. Pim was so mesmerized he fell into a dreamlike state with a tinge of envy over how both dancers had feet, humming to the ethereal tune. Once the tune stopped and Pim was about to wind the key up again, he heard Glep squealing in terror and immediately looked around crying out: “Glep! Where are you little buddy?!” He swam closer to where the sound was coming from and when swimming to the next sector of the shipwreck, he was greeted to Glep frantically swimming away from what wasn’t a shark but what could only be described as a “abyss demon”. Tall and spindly with what appeared to be a head with horns resembling coral branches and piercingly cold ocean-blue eyes staring into one’s soul. Pim grabbed Glep and swam for a way out of the abyss demon’s sight. Pim forgot the crucial advice from his grandfather from when he was just a little tadpole: “Don’t dive too deep into the abyss…you’ll get lost!” Oh if only he didn’t have a hard time remembering little things like that AND an addiction to thrills. He could hear the voice of his stubborn father nagging at him that he just doesn’t learn or listen. Pim slipped out another window and as the demon followed, only for Glep to slam it shut in his face and blow a raspberry at its squished face as he followed Pim away from the scene.

On an island surrounded with a collection of various discarded “human and land critter stuff”, another pink mercritter was casually chilling out while marveling at a crystal sphere slowly whispered in awe: “Nooooo waaaaaay…” He then heard two familiar voices coming closer to his ol’ swimming grounds. Looking into his scratched-up telescope, his smile turned into a grin as he jokingly shouted: “Yoooo mercritter on the looooose!” While waving his hand to signal his youngest cousin and his friend. Pim squealed back and frantically waved: “Hello Graham Nelly!!” Glep followed suit with a cheery: “Skawabezewayo (S’up bruh)?!” While the green guppy never liked how cold, conceited and haughty the rest of Pim’s family was, he did take a liking in his out-there cousin. He opined in his head: “If only the rest of the royal family where as cool as Pim and Graham”. Pim swam towards the sandy shore of the island where his cousin sat, going off: “You wouldn’t believe the adventure me and Glep had today!” as he opened his satchel and took out each item from the haul.

…

Graham laughed at Glep explaining his POV of the morning recap while he closely analyzed the treasures Pim unearthed, he observed a particularly fancy dinner fork engraved with the initials “M.P.” and declared: “Congratulations, my lucky friends, for you have found a dinglehopper! Actually there are a lot in this bag but this particular one is a certified righteous find.” The ever curious Pim of course asked: “What’s a dinglehopper?” “Dinglehoppers are what land folk use to comb their hair, I’ve seen fancy ones like this used by rich folk, but usually they’re more enlongated than this. It’s perfect to carry around and show off at events like parties and concerts!”

The last word had Pim remember something he was supposed to attend to earlier…but completely forgot which day it was. The small mercritter panicked: “Oh no the concert is supposed to be today! I think….Daddy’s gonna kill me!!” as he grabbed all his stuff and added: “I’ll see you later, thank you!!” Pim swam off in a hurry with Glep tagging along. “Catch you by the tide, kiddo!”

~ Back in the Abyss, the skeletal remains of a whale was permanently beached to the ground, inside was the dingy lair of one such infamous sea warlock who was as short-and-stout as he was also, to put it mildly, kind of a stinky little shitbag. He gazed upon his crystal ball watching Pim and Glep on their way back to the palace while grabbing a bowl of tiny crustaceans and crunching them between his teeth as he waited for the fireworks to light up. “Yeeeees…it’s all coming along nicely….one more piece to fall into place until I strike-“ his slow-witted henchman interrupted with a smartassed remark: “Say Grim, what are we gonna do tonight?” Grim gritted his teeth in frustration and replied: “The same thing we do every night, Gnarly: plot to snatch my deadbeat uncle’s trident so we can try and take over the seven seas!!!”

CHAPTER TWO DROPS NEXT WEEK

[thedo0zyslider]

And The Universe Said - 9k Words

Once upon a time, there was a player

Or: Empires Season 2 endings and some bits afterwards, but with a little inspiration from the end poem sprinkled in

A03 Link

“And the universe said I love you.”

Animalia was bustling that day, and Lizzie was absolutely beaming with joy.

Her tail flicked against the stone roads of her empire happily, watching as everyone set up for the show. She wasn’t sure the exact reason she’d decided to have a show, it just felt appropriate. It felt like the end of an era for the empires in some sense, so why not celebrate? Also, not only were shows fun , they brought in revenue . And she could show off her talented little citizens!

She reached the main area, near where the stage was set up, and observed the final preparations. All of the emperor's friends, minus the ever elusive False, had accepted their invitations. Now all eleven of them were sitting around, talking and laughing. Even some who supposedly hated each other seemed to be tolerant of their enemies presence, just for the night anyways.

Before she moved forward, Lizzie did something she’d thought she’d never do. She reached up to the sides of her face, and unhooked her mask.

The feline wasn’t sure why she’d kept it a secret for all this time, well except for the beginning. Though after a few months keeping the mask on had seemed pointless, yet she'd continued doing it anyway for her own sense of comfort. Everyone could tell she was a cat, despite (in her opinion) the rather good human disguise. Lizzie had ears and a very obvious tail, for goodness sake!

The mayor supposed she was doing it now because no one had seemed to care. They had shown no hint of cruelty that her ancestors had faced, everyone had let her wear the disguise; they’d let her talk about it when she was ready. No one had pressured her into taking it off, or asking questions about why she was so obviously hiding her cat-like face. And now, well she was ready to show it, so her friend’s patience had paid off in the end.

She set the mask inside a spare barrel, fully intending to leave it there and never touch it again, before joining the little group at the foot of the stage.

Fwhip waved her over, his own tail flicking as well, and the mayor hurried to join him. Lizzie took a seat next to her fellow critter, her best friend, and more people began to gradually fill up the little show area. Before she knew it, after about ten minutes of conversation and teasing a certain Sheriff, the show was ready to start. To her delight, her true face was not made into a big deal. It seemed to be an accepted fact that Lizzie had taken the mask off, and that was that.

She watched the wonderful show in the setting sun, laughing as Oli was lightheartedly booed off stage, and as her star Ariana Goatee replaced him. Yep, this was definitely a new era for their little empires. And it felt like it was gonna be a good one.

“And the universe said you have played the game well.”

Joey hummed, watching as the waves lightly crashed into the side of his docks. He was setting up his ship currently, planning to go on yet another sea-bering expedition. He wasn’t sure when he’d return to eversea, but he probably would. Unless something went wrong of course, but Joey was a very skilled pirate! Nothing would go wrong under his watch!

He looked at his crew, most of them beginning to gather on the boat with a tense smile. They were one sort now. A certain first-mate-who-shall-not-be-named was a traitor, and it still stung, even after all these weeks of processing and trying to successfully get over it. Maybe Joey just had to accept that the sting would never go away, and that’s what being betrayed by your best friend did to your heart. Didn’t mean he had to like it though.

Though that day he’d been captured and lost a friend also had some positive sides he supposed. Because that day he’d finally settled his differences with Shelby and Katherine, his two wonderful friends who’d saved him when he thought no one else would. It was nice, the pirate found, having two fellow emperors who actually liked him and enjoyed his company. He still had a little crush on Katherine of course, and so did Shelby, but Joey was learning to handle that better and more….naturally than he had before. He learned that whoever Katherine chose, or if she chose no one at all, that it would be fine, because he would still have friends waiting for him when he returned home from sea.

That reminded him! He’d promised to bring said wonderful friends some shiny treasure back! So he’d best be off soon, these little expeditions could take quite a while. Shelby said she might be leaving within the year, and he was not going to miss saying goodbye to his favorite little witch! Even if she was the only witch he actually knew.

Joey clammored on board, calling out greetings to his crew, and darted enthusiastically for the ship’s wheel. His comrades joined in his eagerness, all them excited to be out at sea after…hell years of being landlocked.

The pirate gave a dramatic tip of his hat to his new first mate, and set sail from Eversea for the first time. His home, his beautiful empire faded into the distance, and he hoped he’d be returning in time.

“And the universe said everything you need is within you.”

Katherine stood at her balcony, staring down at her kingdom with a smile. The curse was lifted, the land was healed, and now her people rejoiced below her. The Princess observed fondly as her citizens mingled below her, enjoying the celebration festival she’d ordered to be set up. It was the happiest her empire had been…well since she was born probably.

Despite her seemingly boundless joy, the Princess of Glimmer Grove still felt like a fool. The solution to her home’s curse had been right in front of her for so long, since her first day ruling in fact. She would’ve never thought the fairies were capable of lifting the disease affecting her lands, and no one else she’d consulted had thought that either. Hell, her own people had never even thought to ask the magical creatures so close by them for so many years. That made her feel less stupid, less, not fully smart. She thinks everyone could’ve been smarter, instead of blaming a poor newborn baby for a curse because she’d been born at the same time. That had just been a dumb coincidence!

Katherine shook herself, determined not to get too sour over that fact. She’d always loved her people unconditionally, no matter what nasty words they’d thrown at her. If she hadn’t then she wouldn’t have wasted so long trying to find such an obvious cure. It wasn’t the first time that wondered if her birth was meant to be an omen, one that she could cure this mysterious curse; and that it had just been very easy to interpret wrong. Though despite that she frowned with a huff, as a part of her did have to wonder what would have happened if she didn’t, if she chose to not fix her lands and focus on other things instead. She was going to get coffee with Shelby in a few days….

Her mother’s voice jerked the Princess out of her thoughts, and her vibrant smile returned in full force. She spun around to meet her parents downstairs, battle axe comfortably resting against her back. Her kingdom being healed didn’t stop monsters from spawning, and after the festival's end she planned to stay up all night slaying monsters! She would have so many stories to tell her favorite little witch over coffee!

Katherine ran down her castle stairs as fast as she dared, and stepped out into the next part of her story.

“And the universe said you are stronger than you know.”

A light drizzle fell over the world, seemingly caused by the presence of a very peculiar witch. She smiled as she flew home on her broomstick, the gentle breeze whipping at her face, running through her pure white hair and the raindrops feeling nice on her face. The Storm Witch always liked to think on broom rides like this.

She thought of how she’d basically become the new Supreme Witch, well technically. Shelby had come second to Scott in the final battle, but that latter had ended up giving away his powers to bring a loved one back to life. She was quite happy that the necromancer had completed his goal, having seen how much her friend had been suffering before. The world of witches had become sort of a mess since the tournament, so when El brought the Supreme’s crown back it had been handed to Shelby for the time being. Until Bertha could be found, she had all the power any witch could ever want.

It was kinda funny in hindsight, how weak she thought she used to be. Back when she first visited what would become the Evermoore, Shelby had been a weaker witch, and probably hadn’t been giving herself enough credit. She had only been a beginner back then, yet managed to shift dimensions and create a successful potion business from it.

Thinking of her first days as a witch always gave Shelby a big sense of nostalgia. She thinks she should visit soon, after this stop of course. The Storm Witch often missed her old stomping grounds, as it still felt like home; even ten years after leaving it for good. Her last proper visit had been….well a good year or two before the tournament had started, so a trip by was definitely a little overdue. Shelby smiled softly as she flew, hearing a crack of thunder in the distance. She wondered vaguely if it was from Joel, just as she did with every thunderstorm that occurred these days.

Speaking of her emperor friends, she wondered how Sausage was doing. The Storm Witch missed that man a great deal, they’d become best friends during those two years after all. Though he kept in contact the best he could, always getting Hermes to send a message and making the boy live up to his name. Or he’d get Joel to strike her house with lightning, which was rude. She wondered if he’d gone to see Fwhip often enough, knowing how lonely the little goblin could get sometimes. She wondered if Scott would be at Chromia this time of year, and if he’d be interested in some of the new shiny things she’d gotten over the past few weeks.

Shelby landed at her destination soon after, ceasing almost all thoughts and memories of her old friends. She’d see them soon enough, but first she had to see her again.

“And the universe said you are the daylight.” (gem)

Gem strolled through the streets of dawn, watching as the street lights began to slowly light up for the night. Behind her the sun was setting into the ocean, and around her citizens were starting to head in for the night. Though a few groups were making their way to the tavern, and the Princess was sure that place would always be filled to the brim with drunkards; no matter who led the kingdom.

She turned to watch the sunset for a final time, and didn’t hate the darkness as much as she had before. It was nice to stand in it, but only sometimes. And she certainly wasn’t leaving this word under the cover of the night. Nope , Gem was gonna leave in full view of everyone, sun reflecting off her wings and everything. Make her last moments in her empire memorable and full of light.

There was a sudden blue spark on the floor, and the princess smiled. At least the darkness made her little wisp friends shine a bit brighter than they did in the sun.

“Alright, alright, I’m going !” She laughed, little blue fires swarming around her feet. Gem walked back to her house as fast as she could with the little guys swarming her, giggling all the way. They were very impatient to get her back on Hermitcraft, it seemed.

Gem laid in her bed, and turned this world's night to day for the final time.

The sun was rising just a minute after it had set, and it wasn’t for the first time the princess wondered if it ever got tired. Though calling herself a princess didn’t feel right anymore, because she was never a real princess. She was still a high elf, deep down. A high elf with two very lovely, but very annoying neighbors waiting for her back at home. Gem shuddered to think at what pranks had befallen her beloved Hermitcraft base during her absence.

She exited her house for the final time, and took a good look around Dawn; the empire she'd built up from nothing. Gem still wondered how exactly she strolled into this world, and why she had. She didn’t regret in the slightest, not at all. These past ten months had been amazing, yet at the same time far too short; though in this world ten months was like, a few years? She wasn’t sure, time worked differently in different worlds. Like timezone, Gem supposed, but extra confusing and weird. All she knew was that in Hermitcraft land it had been a rather standard ten months, and in Empires at least a few years had gone by. Which made sense really, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was any empire here. Though the time stuff had led to some awkward conversations of just how long ago certain events had happened with her fellow emperors.

And oh, her friends! She was gonna miss her friends so much! Gem had already said goodbye to Sausage and Oli, who understandably didn’t react very well. So she’d decided that maybe no more goodbye were necessary. Those two would tell everyone else where she went! Probably. Hopefully . She had told the most…erm, reliable people she was leaving, now had she? Both of them were sure to dramatize it, and the ginger let out an amused huff at the thought.

Distantly, the former princess wondered if she’d see them again in some lifetime, other than False. She knew she’d always keep seeing False on Hermitcraft. And Pearl, since she seemed connected to this world somehow. Part of her had always wondered if there had been some other Gem here before her. She was content not to know the answer to that one, just hoped that if that Gem had existed, that she got out okay. (Even if the current Gem really doubted that, based on the brief history she’d heard from Pix. So not fully okay, just getting out semi-okay would work, she supposed.) Gem began moving through her streets for the last time, towards her nether portal. It felt poetic to disappear in front of there, for some reason. Maybe her people would just assume she went to the nether and never returned if she did that.

“C’mon boy,” She mumbled to her beloved bear, Apollo, once she reached him. “Let’s go for one last ride okay?” Apollo just gave a friendly yet tired huff, letting the ginger clamber onto his back for the dozenth time. She gave him a light scratch behind the ears, and he began slowly moving through the empire, stopping to sniff a fair amount of things. Usually Gem liked him to travel faster, but today a slightly slower pace would do. The wisps, still floating nearby, were seemingly tolerating it. Maybe they understood the sentiment of this goodbye.

They strode through the city at a steady place, allowing Gem to take it all in one last time. She waved at the few villagers as they passed, exchanging smiles and good mornings with the people she’d come to know so well. She was sure she’d remember all their names and faces, even when she was gone. She admired her builds, the beautiful gradient texture of the roofs and the glory of her sun church, which reminded her to stop and return her sunglasses. Regrettably, Gem couldn’t take those with her.

Apollo was left by her bees, because she wanted a glimpse of them and the Beekeepers before she departed. The sweet little bear even got some honeycomb, munching on it as Gem removed his harness and saddle. He wouldn’t have anyone to carry around, now that she was gone, but the former princess was certain Apollo would stay. She ignored the squeezing in her chest at the thought of leaving her beloved companion for good, and knew that she was gonna miss his cute little face dearly.

Gem flew the rest of the way there, using her monarch butterfly like wings one last time. They were pretty, and she was going to miss them as well. Maybe she could customize an elytra to look like them when she was back home. Maybe a future base could have some Dawn inspired architecture. Yep, that sounded good, but in a few seasons; when she wouldn’t miss it quite as much and could get all nostalgic. Maybe she’ll have seen her friends again by that point.

It was hard to leave, but she knew it was for the best. She wasn’t supposed to be here anyways. Just because you could travel between worlds doesn’t mean you should .

Gem stood in front of the swirling, purple nether portal, and vanished back home. To anyone else, it would look like she’d just walked through and never reemerged. She was back on Hermitcraft, back in her castle and an elf once more. The wisps floated around her happily, and she giggled as their flames tickled and brushed against her skin. Well, that was her time on Empires done it seemed.

She didn’t let herself linger on that thought, mainly because Gem was running to her front door, checking for any more new additions to her home. And maybe also getting ready to slay Impulse if he had done any more pranking, for funsies of course!

“And the universe said you are the night.”

A goblin looked on the paper at his desk, hands shaking a little as he glanced over it a few more times. It was a notice of retirement. His retirement. Fwhip was retiring, and he'd be announcing it tomorrow. He would've liked to do it today, rip the bandaid off before he gets too nervous. But it's late, he's spent all night writing this, and he needs a drink. Badly

The goblin ruler, well soon to be former ruler, stood from his office desk. He went over how exactly he'd do the announcement one more time. Fwhip had figured he'd tell the few other goblins that worked with him in the more government-like positions, then let them tell the rest of the people afterwards. That seemed good enough, and he could just retire to his house peacefully and ignore all the questions his citizens might have.

He'd walked the path to the bar plenty of times, probably too many times to be healthy really. He found the building quickly and easily, and soon found himself sitting on a bar stool; downing the first of probably many drinks that night. The bartender, far too used to seeing Fwhip here, didn't even raise an eyebrow, and would go on to just wordlessly refill his glass as the hours ticked by.

Fwhip sat in silence, listening to the ambience of the bar and thinking of how he failed as a ruler.

His people probably didn't think he'd failed, because he did what they'd wanted. He'd expanded the empire, made it prosperous, and filled the vault full of gold. But other than those three things, one could argue he'd done a pretty horrible job at leading. Probably because he hadn’t even wanted to lead in the first place.

Fwhip had only been appointed as leader because he was the tallest goblin, not because he showed any actual leaders skills. He was the tallest by like, an inch anyways, and in his opinion other goblins; even some shorter ones; were better suited for the job then he was. Well, Fwhip had some capabilities, but his personal flaws outweighed them greatly. His failed allyship with the Sheriff was a prime example of that.

He took another swig of his drink at the thought. Fwhip had been so obsessive when it came to that man, co-dependent even; which stemmed from a list of problems that only gave him a headache when he thought about them. Everything else had become second priority to Jimmy, to his loyalty to the Sheriff, to his…. affection for him one could call it. Goblands was even pushed to the side, and during their partnership he'd spent most of his time above ground, in Tumble Town with Jimmy. Now Fwhip could hardly stand being in the sunlight for long, much preferring the cool darkness of his cave home.

He thought of the damn house he'd built for Jimmy in Gobland. The house he'd wasted precious gold on, that now sat abandoned and untouched by everyone. No citizen wanted to move in, because it was tailor made for someone else; not to mention the sour air that hung over the building.

That whole friendship had been so…well Fwhip didn’t want to use the word toxic , but he couldn’t think of any other word. Jimmy had his own issues, like demanding respect when doing nothing to earn it ever. His misplaced sense of authority. And Fwhip’s codependency had only made all that worse. They’d made each other's worst traits more horrible, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when they had a big falling out. He cringed to think of how horribly he'd taken that, basically acting like a jealous ex boyfriend.

The goblin started on his third drink, now starting to feel just a bit tipsy. If he knew all the hurt that relationship would cause, he probably would've tried to avoid Jimmy, and then failed because his past self found that man irresistible. Now the two preferred to keep this distance, and god weren't they fucking pathetic ? It had been months and they couldn't even give each other proper apologies, just tense truces for the sake of their own empires.

A man sat down next to him suddenly, and Fwhip looked over with a blink. As fate would have it, his seatmate was the Old Sheriff. Jimmy’s honestly sad attempt at replacing his former deputies. Listen, Fwhip still cared about the blonde, but he could do better than a senile, sixty-something-year old man he found in a cave. He could also use someone who'd give a bit of a wake up call, to fix himself and be the better person everyone knew he could be, and Old Sheriff was probably doing the opposite of that. (Distantly, Fwhip was a little disappointed in himself that he couldn't even be that person for his Sheriff. He beat the thought down to the back of his mind.)

"Hey," He grumbled a greeting to the Old Sheriff. The man glanced at him, and Fwhip could tell he'd entered the bar absolutely hammered . He caught the bartender's eye, and gave a slight shake of his head. It was a signal to not give the older man anything else, mainly because Fwhip doubted he'd pay for it.

The other goblin nodded in acknowledgment. They also seemed to sense what kind of conversation was about to occur, one that should not be overheard, and silently slipped into the back. Fwhip really had to remember their name one day, because that was going on the ever expanding, long list of things he needed to thank them for.

"What is it?" Old Sheriff asked, and Fwhip was surprised his words weren't slurred. The goblin king didn't know why he was about to do this, it was probably the alcohol talking really. Yet still, he opened his mouth and got all sentimental to a man he barely knew.

"Can you pass a message on to Jimmy?" Fwhip began, and had to stop himself before he started anxiety rambling.

"Eh, why not!" The man next to him shrugged. "What'll it be?"

Fwhip took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Tell him I've decided to retire as ruler of Gobland, and as deputy," He almost laughed at himself, really he did. He should've done the last one months ago, for both their sakes. "And I have something that is rightfully he is." Fwhip finished his little speech by passing a piece of paper to the elderly man, one with coordinates hastily yet legibly scribbled down.

They were the coords to the original deputy badge, the one he'd stolen. They were also the coords to his old Sheriff shrine. God the shrine . Fwhip had cringed just thinking of it earlier, and almost did the same now.

The Old Sheriff looked at the paper, then nodded. "Yep, got it." He said, and somehow Fwhip he didn't have it and would ruin this.

"Tell him I'm here, if he ever wants to talk." The only response to that was a grunt, and Fwhip drowned himself in cocktails for the rest of the night. He thought it was cocktails, because he woke up the next morning slumped over the Counter with a headache.

He decided around midday, after he'd officially retired, that he'd invite some friends over to celebrate. He'd never done enough of that before, spending time with his friends. Fwhip felt as if a lot of them would be leaving soon, for some reason, so any time spent with them was looking to be time well spent.

The goblin almost reached out to Jimmy with an invite, but decided against it. The Sheriff would come down when he was ready. And for now Fwhip could focus on other things, like enjoying his newly retired life.

“And the universe said the darkness you fight is within you.”

Cogsmeade, an empire most thought had been abandoned by its ruler, still had its mechanical cogs turning. False liked to think they turned in spite of all the nasty whispers about her. Not much had happened to her after that whole Rift fiasco, not really. She hadn’t vanished, just stayed at home a lot more. And by a lot more she meant one hundred percent of the time.

It was a lot to process really, meeting an alternate version of yourself, having her stalk your home for two months, then finding out you're basically a clone of her who had to be thrown away to another world because of violent tendencies. That would mentally fuck with even Sausage , and False knew he’d been through some messed up dimension hopping stuff; despite not really seeing him in almost a year. It kinda became big news when an emperor started messing with the space time continuum, okay?

She was over all that now, really she was. She’d managed to wrangle those um….borderline homicidal urges in. Really she had! She hadn’t tried to kill anyone since Pix and Jevin back during Rift times. Though she would argue past her hadn’t really been trying to kill them per say, just knock them out and give them some slight amnesia. Though she probably would’ve tried if she had the chance. It didn’t matter in the end, because her idea had worked and they remembered nothing of her weird doppelganger stuff. She thought that's what she wanted the two to forget anyways, False was really blocking out memories of that time.

Her empire had grown as well, becoming more flushed out than it had ever been. The inventor was proud of it, so so proud of it. This place hadn’t started out feeling like home, but now it did. Cogsmeade was home , and her life was going better. She was happier, despite all the unpleasant memories, ones that seemed very persistent at popping up today.

No one liked to remember bad times in their lives, and Cogsmeade’s ruler was just the same in that regard. She hadn’t been able to get rid of that head room per say, but she had locked it up. It kinda disturbed her even thinking about it now, which was progress! No longer wanting to decapitate things was good! Really good!

That was really all that had happened, now that False thought over it. All she’d done was better herself as a person, so the time when she’d “gone missing” was time well spent. She was even considering leaving again, going to make some trades. False liked her solitude just fine, but even loners got well… lonely sometimes.

Trades, yeah that’s a good idea. She thought, making her way back up to her house for the day. False felt like she could trust herself around others again, so maybe she’d go see one of her neighbors. Maybe Scott, maybe Joel, maybe she’d even go all the way down to the Goblands if she was feeling real adventurous.

It didn’t have to be tomorrow though, it could be any day. Whenever she was ready.

“And the universe said the light you seek is within you.”

Sausage hummed, sitting at the empty bar, and ran a hand through his now graying hair. Damn, he was old.

He might be at a bar, but he was drinking juice. Apple juice to be exact. Sanctuary’s ruler didn’t drink as much as he used to back in the day. Even if back in the day had been less than twenty years ago. Though back in the day he had more pressing problems, and now he only had to deal with a teenager. Well, a teenager who’s soon to be an adult.

That put into perspective exactly how many years it had been, because back in the day Hermes had been now older than five. Now he was seventeen, going on eighteen, and begging to use his dads old staff of Sanctuary. It didn’t feel like that long ago really, that Hermes was basically a baby and Sausage was off doing, well god knows what he was doing. He didn’t regret it though. The brunette was still the same man as he had been in his younger years, just more laid back.

He was this close to giving Hermes that staff too, because he was weak for his kid. The little guy had always loved Sausage’s stories about his multiversal travels, his many lives; even if some of them hurt too much to be told. But those things wouldn’t happen to Hermes, because he wasn’t living multiple lives, he was just stopping by. And the young demigod had both Sausage and Bubbles, both more experienced dimension hoppers who would look out for him. (Inwardly, Sausage still shuddered at the thought of Hermes finding one of his old worlds especially. He didn’t know… how he’d answer any questions about a demon or an empire full of blood red sheep, or why one kingdom was now a large explosion hole and why all the water was drained. He just had to hope the kid never found that one.)

Sanctuary’s ruler decided to move his thoughts to something else, like when his friends would next visit. Or when he’d pester them first. A lot of them had left, but a good half of the original thirteen emperors still remained. He especially wanted to know when Shelby’s next visit from the Witch’s Academy would be. They hadn’t seen her in months ! Almost a year ! The brunette thought it was fair to say he missed his best friend a whole lot. He really wanted her to see Hermes again, she was always so excited to see the little guy.

Sausage also wanted Hermes to show off a little bit with his old staff, the one he’d be getting tonight. Was that an impulse decision? Yes, yes it was. But he was sure it would be fine! Hermes knew how to be responsible, and would probably be much more responsible (which did not seem like a typical teenager quality) than Sausage himself had cared to be.

He stood with a hum, yet again running his fingers through new strands of gray hair. Blegh , it felt like he was aging ten years by the minute! He waved goodbye to Bruno, the bartender, and walked outside to get some fresh air.

His feet took him to the church almost on instinct, like she was calling him there. Sausage giggled, finding himself near the chapel’s door and standing in a field of sunflowers. He leaned down with a smile, gently picking one. He’d give this to Hermes later, for good luck. And also a reminder of home, and to look inside himself when he needed too.

That last part sounded really cheesy, but it was true! (He was so going to tell Hermes that and embarrass him later!) All of Sausage’s solutions back in the day seemed to be because of him. Those strange memories of sunflowers? Of a woman in a green dress? The answer was inside him all along, in the form of unlocked little memories of….himself. The Evil King slash His Birth Dad problem? The answer had been himself, multiple versions that is. The Evil Sausage problem? That one was solved by literally merging with a different version of him, so in a way the answer was himself again. The brunette knew he was simplifying this a lot probably, but it worked! It made sense to him!

He picked a few more sunflowers, before deciding not to dawdle around the church for too much longer, lest he age and turn to dust before dinner. He had to get to Eddie and Maria’s for a family dinner soon, with the kid of course. And he needed to swing by and grab the staff from the castle before seeing his son again. He could come visit Santa Perla in the morning anyways, like he always did. She shouldn’t miss him too terribly in the meantime.

Sausage waved goodbye to the church with a smile, sunflowers delicately clutched in his hand, and headed back up the path.

“And the universe said you are not alone.”

Jimmy grumbled something to himself, quickly packing up cat food. He was packing because he was leaving. No, they were leaving. Him and the Old Sheriff were getting the hell out of dodge.

If there was anyone still living in this damn town, they would wonder why their Sheriff was leaving them. It was a long time coming really, but in short? Everything had crumbled around Jimmy’s head, then he had pissed off the fae, and now they were taking over his land. Slowly but surely of course, but the little patch of strange blue grass had almost tripled. It hadn’t even been half a day since he found it either. A lot of things had happened in that half a day actually, and his mind was currently whirring as he packed up as much as he could carry.

Besides finding the fae’s corruption that morning, Fwhip had also given him his deputy badge back. Fwhip , the obsessive little nuisance of a goblin, had actually said sorry and given it back. After months of the two just seeming to tolerate each other. The blonde almost couldn’t believe it, he really couldn’t. Part of the Sheriff still wanted to hate Fwhip too, to hate him and blame all his problems on someone else. But you couldn’t really do that if they said sorry , now could you?

Jimmy was also ignoring the part that wanted so badly to stay , to see his old deputy again and be friends once more. He couldn’t stay, he couldn’t fix anything anymore. He’d been damaged too badly, caused too much damage. It wasn’t healthy for him to stay, to be around all these friends of his. He had to leave . The Sheriff had to start over somewhere new.

He sighed, seeing that dusty, newly regained deputy badge resting at the bottom of his bag. Leaving should hurt. Leaving all this should be harder, because this place had been his life; his home; his pride and joy for almost two and a half years now. Leaving it shouldn’t feel like the easiest thing in the world.

Jimmy reckons he’s good at running. Because this feels like running away, away from his problems so he doesn’t need to actually untangle them. He wonders if he’s always been good at running, in past lives; if those exist. Part of him says he always is.

Running was easy because he could remember. He could remember how Joel had taunted him, how everyone had joined the god in taunting him. Bullying him, that was a better term for it. He remembers how horrible he was to Fwhip, how Fwhip was to him. Remembers why the goblin was fired in the first place, for his general life threatening pranks; pranks he played because it was funny. Because putting a warden near a town that had been full of civilians was funny ; was a gift .

Running was so easy because he remembered how Tumble Town had been empty for months. He remembered how he’d driven all his people away. Remembered how Gem, his friend, his ally since the start, who was supposedly a pacifist had pushed him off the Great Bridge. Running was easy because he didn’t have friends anymore. There was nothing left for him here, hadn’t been for a while.

He did have one friend, he supposed. Old Sheriff was okay, Jimmy guessed. He was more senile and spouted nonsense, but he was funny sometimes. He seemed to care when things got serious, so he was alright. Jimmy was kidding himself really, he was attached to the man. Badly attached. It’s what loneliness does to a person, it makes you attached to the first person willing to tolerate you; even if that person is some guy you found in a cave.

The Old Sheriff had started to call for him, yelling about how he had to hurry up before the faeries at them or something. Jimmy huffed in amusement, and made sure his bag was packed with everything he could possibly need. He adjusted his hat, grabbed Norman the cat, and walked out of his old house for the last time. Flick, Norman’s little brother, started trailing behind him towards the horses.

The two rode off in whatever direction seemed best, cats in tow and bags full of as many supplies as possible. Well, Jimmy’s was. There was a ninety percent chance the Old Sheriff had brought liquor, and only liquor. It was a good thing he’d expected that then.

Running was easy, Jimmy found. There was no tug of pain in his heart as he left. The Sheriff didn’t even spare a glance back to his former empire, the home he’d built from the ground up. And why would he?

There was nothing left for him there.

“And the universe said you are not separate from every other thing.”

Joel was having a really weird day. And that was saying something, because as a god he’d had a lot of weird days.

It was weird because some guy, who looked quite a lot like himself, had descended from the heavens like an angel or something. Apparently he hadn’t been a god this whole time. These past few years had been a test, and the brunette had passed with flying colors. Now he was going to be an actual god. He was going to disappear from the mortal realm as well, which was not preferable. But what could he do about that? Joel, despite all his glory, didn’t think he could control that.

So he’d spent his last few hours saying goodbye. He’d said goodbye to Sausage, to Hermes, to his people. He’d found that some people, Jimmy particularly, were gone when he tried to say goodbye. So that was a shame. And now the god didn’t know what to do. He was leaving soon, and he had nothing to do but think.

So think he did.

He thought about his time here, and decided it had been good. He had enjoyed building Stratos, he thought, sitting on the edge of one of his floating isles. Maybe he should’ve been a bit nicer to Jimmy, maybe he should’ve been a better dad to Hermes, spent more time with Sausage. (The kid had said both of them were awful parents, after all.) Maybe he should’ve been less self absorbed, maybe he should’ve done so many other things. But he must've done a few things right, because they were letting him be a true god in the end.

He was proud of his empire, and he was gonna miss it. He was gonna miss his people, the ones who always put up with his great need for quartz and gold, for what sometimes felt like every material under the sun. They were good people, his villagers. He hoped they thought of him well, he hoped they remembered him. The founder of their empire, the slightly horrible, but sometimes kind god of the sky.

Joel hoped the beautiful empire below him would stay, that it wouldn’t die out. He hoped someone would replace him. He hoped Hermes would keep visiting even after his dad was long gone. Maybe Sausage would see to that, because that seemed like a Sausage thing to do.

He was gonna miss his friends, he thought, running through the emperors in his mind. He was even gonna miss the more annoying ones, like Joey. Or the skittish ones, like False. Joel didn’t get to think of this for long sadly enough, because he soon found himself slowly turning translucent.

He thought that if this place was going to be forgotten after he went, he’d leave something for them to find atop Upper Stratos.

Joel placed the crown down on the grass, right in front of his fountain, and ascended to godhood.

“And the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code.”

A man, a ghostly one, moved through the hallways of some old abandoned ruin. It had clearly been a grand castle once, judging by architecture. Pix would know that well though, because he’d spent the past few years of his life trying to study and restore it. Well, the last few years of his life and a little bit of his death. Being turned into a ghost somehow was funny like that.

He thinks it’s about time to move on though, he’d been here long enough. Pixl could always go haunt some other place, or finally move out of the living world. He just had to write some things first. The history of the world wasn’t the best preserved, so he felt some kind of obligation to do it. No one else was, or else they’d have done it before this castle became all old and dusty.

It took a while, longer than he thought really, to write it all out. But Pix did it eventually. As his friends set out on adventures, ascended to godhood, or even left this realm itself, Pix started a new chapter of his life with writing. He was never one for dramatic beginnings anyways.

He wrote of empires of old, of those twelve original emperors. It wasn’t for the first time he wondered how similar most of them were to most of the current ones, minus Sausage and his patron Saint; who literally were those old rulers. He wrote of how their world ended, of the wars, of the demon and the cod and the salmon. He wrote everything he could, about everything he’d gathered from the Ancient Capital’s library, whose books were equally as old as the building that housed them.

He wrote of his beloved little empire too. He wrote of how it was built from survivors of the Old World, how they’d mixed old cultures into something new and beautiful. He wrote about the monuments they’d made, the challenges they faced, and how they too eventually became nothing. He wrote about how a curious little archeologist came to restore their once glorious kingdom, and wrote everything about that man he could. Pix was a part of history as well, but it did feel kinda funny preserving well…. himself .

He wrote a little of the current kingdoms. He wrote of the small sheriff, picking fights with a god. Of the goblin empire, descended from those long ago oceanfolk, now living underground. He wrote of the city above the goblins, one thriving with animals of all kinds. He wrote of color, of cogs, of swamps and witches, of pirates and of half corrupted lands. He wrote of a weird little bard who showed up randomly some day and never quite left, He wrote of a Rift and the stranger visitors it brought with it, he wrote of a dimension traveling little butterfly. He wrote of sun gods, of sunflowers and how one those old emperors never quite left. He wrote of a sanctuary full of magic and old memories. He wrote everything he could into the few open books he had, and everything he memory’s would supply him. Pix really should’ve kept a journal and preserved things as they happened. Yeah, that would’ve been a good idea.

He didn’t document everything from the current time though, because he was leaving. He wasn’t sticking around to see history play out in full. Pix was off to a new adventure, whatever that may be. He had a feeling that one king from long ago, the one that lived in the desert and kinda looked like himself, didn’t do that either. Though he wasn’t sure what happened to that guy, because records of him were hard to find, even harder than some of those long ago elves.

Pix felt like his friends would document stuff for him, and keep his museum nice and tidy maybe. If only to remember him. That’s what he hoped they’d do, as he set those newly finished books down in the library, a hidden gem amongst all those tattered, old books.

After that, Pixlriffs took advantage of his ghost abilities and vanished, leaving the story unfinished; like most people he’d studied seemed to do.

“And the universe said I love you because you are love.”

Scott hummed to himself lightly, feet falling softly against a worn path. Louder footsteps sounded behind him, and he stifled a giggle at his companions excited stomping. Owen could be a little annoying at times, but mostly his little llama friend was stupidly endearing.

“Are we there yet!?” Owen called, catching up to the collector. Scott was suddenly understanding every parent ever to ever exist, because he was being asked that same question every five minutes or so.

“We’re close!” He said, keeping his voice light. He wasn’t that annoyed, not really, not anymore. A few months traveling with the llama had gotten him very used to Owen’s antics. He was learning how to be well, more human than llama by the day too! Which was good, especially because his friend had finally figured out doors!

So yeah, Owen had his moments of being insufferable, but Scott was sure he had his as well. So overall, the brunette was a good traveling companion, and a surprisingly fast learner. Plus he could talk to normal llamas, ones that hadn’t been turned into people, and Scott liked having a way to communicate with her favorite animal very much.

“How do you know that?” Owen asked curiously, tilting his head. Scott giggled again, and pointed at his yellow eye.

“I can see magic? Remember silly?” He smiled, watching as the other’s face lit up, being able to see Owen actually remember in real time. He didn’t blame him for forgetting. There was no external indicator of that power, and Scott never talked about it much. This was like, the third time it had been brought up in almost half a year of traveling.

“ Yep , mhmm! I totalllyy remember!” Owen nodded vigorously in response, and Scott just rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you do!” He laughed, and they walked in silence for a few minutes, though there was never much silence with Owen around. Scott didn’t mind, because traveling alone and in silence all the time used to get really, really boring .

“Scott?” His llama asked after about ten minutes. He had that semi-rare tone of voice. The quiet one, one that showed Owen had been in some pretty serious thought. “When are we going back to Chromia?” He repressed a smile at that last word, still a little satfisted he’d finally gotten Owen to call his empire by its proper, official name, instead of Llamaland .

Scott looked to his right, fixing Owen with a curious gaze. Ah. He thought. He’s homesick. The collector realized, seeing the expression his friend made. It was one filled with a little bit of longing, and the brunette's two colored eyes were looking off into the distance.

“Maybe in a few months?” Scott suggested it tentatively, softly. He knew the feeling of homesickness well, getting bouts of his own from time to time. Sometimes it was for his original home, where he’f first started his journeying. Though at this point he’d walked so far, crossed so many rivers, he wouldn’t even know how to get back to his old family home.

“But we’ve been traveling for like, seven months already!” Owen pointed out, whining a little. “That’s such a long time!” And the collector supposed he had a point, that was quite a long time. And he had told Sausage he’d stop by at least once a year or so….

“Tell you what!” Scott said, clapping a hand on the other’s shoulder. “We’ll go to this place, and another one after it, and once we have enough goodies we’ll head home! That sound good?”

“Oh that sounds great!” Owen exclaimed, earlier enthusiasm returned. “I can’t wait to see the others again! Like umm, uhhh….” The brunette trailed off, and Scott laughed again.

“You don’t remember their names, do you?” He asked, forever amused by the llama’s comically short memory.

“I do! I do!” Owen argued back lightly. “I just need a little….reminder is all! My brian’s just tired from all this walking! Yeah that’s all it is!” He ended the sentence a little sheepishly, and Scott readily started listing off the names of his beloved llamas back at home. He missed the little guys too, he had to admit

“Well, there’s Crow and Mia at the Great Bridge, but i don’t know if you ever meet them-”

“I did!’ Owen interrupted, a giddy smile on his face.

“Then we’ll have to visit them too!” Scott continued, and the other man fell into a content silence as he listened to the collector go on a little ramble. “Then back at the garden there’s Perry, the little troublemaker! There’s Dan the pond fish. And there’s Violet, and Comet, and Astrid and Eloise..”

Owen cut him off again, talking about how much he missed Eloise. Apparently the two had been close friends, before the former had become Chromia’s resident bartender. Scott listened to the stories of all their little llama antics happily, sometimes chiming with anecdotes of how he’d had to stop them from doing things like breaking out of the garden.

He let Owen talk them both to sleep, deciding to call it a night a little earlier than normal. The ruin they were exploring was pretty deep underground, some old elven thing if he remembered correctly. He wanted an early start on mining the next morning, knowing it would probably take a good day or so to reach the thing. Though now that he had Owen to help, doing things was much faster than they used to be.

Hell, considering what the ruin contained, they might even head home early! He knew Pix was researching some old elf stuff, so maybe this was connected to that. Scott did prefer to keep the treasures he found, but he knew the archaeologist would appreciate much more than he would. Pix would get more out of it too, because he could study it and what not, while Scott was just gonna let it collect dust on a shelf.

He fell asleep that night quickly, Owen splayed out close by like he always was. Scott fell asleep, thoughts of tomorrow causing excitement to course through his limbs. He fell asleep wondering of elves and his llamas back home.

"And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love."

Oli rowed quickly, giggling all the while. He’d just faked his own funeral, and he’d be surprised if anyone took it seriously. It wasn’t meant to be taken that seriously though. It was just the easiest way he could think of to leave.

He was back near the festival grounds before he knew it, and honestly it felt strange. It felt strange sneaking around this world, walking around without his trademark bard’s hat and lute. It was like he wasn’t supposed to be there, because he wasn’t. The universe hadn’t wanted him here, he’d made his own way in. And now he was doing what the universe had probably wanted since the start all those months ago. He was leaving.

He was going to miss it, just a little bit. He was going to miss his empire, which had some of the finest builds he’d ever gone and made. He was going to miss walking around, touring all these beautiful places and playing music; really leaning into the slutty bard persona and just going wild with it really. He was going to miss the newly hatched dragon egg, he was going to miss his friends.

But these weren't his friends. Not really. These people, for all he loved them, were just different versions of his actual friends. And maybe all of them were just different versions of the same people, living new lives. Countless lives that stretched so far back no one could remember the first, but that wasn’t for Oli to know. All the bard knew was that these weren’t his friends, and that this wasn’t his home.

His friends had been in Afterlife, and then they all died. That world wasn’t home anymore, and this one wasn;t supposed to be either. Ya know that saying, home is where the heart is or something like that? Yeah, well Oli’s heart wasn’t in Afterlife anymore, and it certainly wasn’t here in Empires. Honestly, it was getting a little painful to look at these people and pretend he hadn’t known a different version of them.

Well, He thought, eyes landing on the great bridge as he passed by the area. Almost all of them . He thought Pix was watching, maybe felt the other’s gaze on his back. He probably wasn’t, but that man was scarily omniscient at times. Maybe he knew Oli wasn’t really dead, and how he planned on leaving.

The bard scurried his way across the abandoned festival sight, ignoring the pang of sadness he felt when glancing at it. His beloved stands and tents had fallen into disarray, after so many hours lovingly and painstakingly being set up. That shouldn’t matter anymore though, he was leaving. If Oli had wanted to fix it he should’ve done so before today.

He found his way to the Rift. The strange thing was now shattered, like glass, and no longer glowing purple. Expect for one spot, one spot in the side he was inexplicably drawn to. This…the back door of sorts shouldn’t exist, the Rift was supposed to be gone . Gone and never to be opened again. But Oli wasn’t going to question or deny such an easy escape. Maybe one of the Grumbots was holding out still.

He was gonna try and go to Hermitcraft, key word being try . Afterlife wasn’t a viable option anymore, for the bard's old home was empty and full of long abandoned builds. He’d always been an outcast here, in Empires. He was the weird guy who never quite fit in, the one who talked nonsense and never quite fit in, never quite found his place. He wasn’t supposed to be here, Oli wasn’t sure that he was supposed to be anywhere, but Hermitcraft was worth a shot he supposed. Besides, Gem was there, his friend , his neighbor who’d bloody left him for a second time . She was there, in Hermitcraft, maybe they could be friends again.

He knows he’s not the usual sort of person who they invite to that world, but there he isn’t an outcast. Because it’s a server full of so many different people, ones who never quite fit anywhere else and some who do fit elsewhere, they just prefer that weird little group. And Oli can see why. Maybe he won’t be outcasted there, maybe he’ll fit in. They at least won’t kick him out, he’s sure of that. And if they try he hopes Joe Hills and Gem will back him up. Man he misses Joe Hills. He can even see Tiny Tom again, tell the little guy hello from Jimmy and Joel; who have absolutely forgotten about the kid at this point.

Oli steps through the swirling, yet all familiar purple mass of the rift. He thinks he feels it close behind him, and is content to be taken wherever. Unless it’s the void with that stupid , fucking unreasonably long poem being muttered into nothingness again. Anything but there he’s fine with, because you can’t start over again in the void.

“You.”

"You are the player."

"Wake up."

[thequeenofmyownscreen]

Last day at MCM was less tiring somehow...

Yes we got up also at 6am to get ready (still in full Laudna cosplay for me) but it was WORTH IT because when we arrived at ExCel, fully expecting a long queue already, they were just letting people walk into the main stage ! And so we got very nice seats for the Critical Role panel.

The ambiance was incredible, we sat for 3 hours just waiting, but it didn't feel like 3 hours at all. The guy warming up the audience was pretty good : aside from the spontaneous dance party (amazing in itself), at one point he was running everywhere to play "who here went from the farthest end of the planet to see this panel ?" (the girl from New Zealand won), and the best part was when he got people to dance on the stage (French Scanlan if you see this you were amazing, I told you so after).

And the panel happened, and my goodness. It went over so quickly !!! Because they took time answering the questions precisely, and each adding a little something. We got to see Laura seemingly very excited at the idea of a Jester and Fjord wedding one-shot, possibly with Artagan as her maid of honor, possibly under the sea with everyone as mermaids ?? !! Who knows, but I WANT IT NOW

And then the 2nd best part of the day was the Critter meet-up. THERE WERE SO MANY AWESOME COSPLAYS !!! I don't know how or when or even where or if the group photos will ever emerge, we were so many it seems impossible to take one photo. But I was there, Gandalf. I was there somewhere on the picture. And then we did group photos !!! By campaigns first, and then it was much more chaotic as we gathered into character groups. Meeting all the Laudnas was amazing, there were so many variations, and I fell in love with each of them ; and there even one Pâté ! We also did a photo with the Imogens, and the added the Fearnes (Witchy Bitches !!), and then again the Laufnas with 1 Delilah. There were other groups happening all around us : the Mollymauks lying on the ground all around 1 Lucien, the Chaos Crew group, the Calebs & Esseks... All and all an amazing experience, that makes me regret the other ones that happened on Friday and Saturday.

And then it was time for a last browsing of the alleys, and the goodbyes... By some miracle, we found the Critter who was with us at our hostel, in the train ! It was meant to be.

[activatebutterflyshield]

Any room like those is one of majesty

Scratchy of drapery and simple of purpose

An altar to a local thing, whose prayers are few yet devout

Well-worn and well-trodden, wood scratched and painted and replaced

Years upon years of love and of laughter hammered into the very walls of the chamber

Angels hang from above, their bright eyes closed at rest

Ready for the click that might roust them into wakefulness

So they might see the rituals below

Gargoyles sit on perches and ledges, mesh faces blind without sight

They’ll sing and lament at the flick of a switch

A hymn to the priests down below

Curious little critters, beasts with big ears and bigger tails

Run about and report to all who can hear

Candelabras of sorts, sleek, black, and tripedal

Stand at the ready to see what will go down

Their memories long, their gazes crystal clear

Ten seats, or a thousand, set round a high place

So the public may watch the proceedings for a fee

Great singers, and players, and ticklers of strings

Those whose love is melodic and clear

In songs and in speeches, prayers well-rehearsed and well-written

Vestments clean and sharp-pressed, colorful, smart things

And beside them, in black, and wires, and dust

Are priests of the creatures, those that coax the beasts

Whispering their prayers through buttons and through brooms

Gently prodding along the spirits behind the scenes

This dance, or this play, takes place every day

Between stage cast, and tech crew, and players at stands

A performance of a lifetime, and memories to last

-

A sleep-depriving love poem to technical theater, performing arts, and the events of my life these last several days

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Dolls’ Eyes — A Jaws AU

Pairings: established Peggy/Steve, developing Brunnhilde/Carol Rating: T Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the vanished half of the universe returned, but Thanos escaped the battlefield, fleeing into space. Now that he’s virtually powerless, most of the Avengers consider chasing him all over the universe a waste of resources, but Peggy Carter—newly deposited in the 21st century—is determined to finish the job. Brunnhilde and Carol Danvers have the same idea.

When scattered rumours of fresh killings escalate to the death of one of their own, the three women team up to defeat Thanos once and for all.

read the prologue

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen

After everything, Carol wasn’t surprised that Brunnhilde put up a fight over being told to just rest. Carol reminded her that she was lucky to be alive, to which Brunnhilde responded that it wasn’t anything like luck, and went on to list the incredible, lifesaving properties of her fine armour, explain the enhanced durability provided by her Asgardian biology, and enumerate all of the injuries she’d previously sustained that were apparently worse than being electrocuted half to death, and then nearly drowning while incapacitated. Carol didn’t believe half of it, but it was kinda hot when Brunnhilde bragged.

So, in spite of Carol’s efforts, Brunnhilde kept getting up the second her back was turned in order to haul bodies off of Thanos’s ship. As they started to fix everything Carol had broken (including a patch job of that hole in the roof), a scan of the local environment informed them that almost all of the life on this planet was aquatic. They left the stack of corpses on land. Whatever water critters were around, they didn’t need toxic eyeball goo leeching into their habitat.

Carol caught Brunnhilde shaking out a twitching arm and made her sit to do electronic repairs rather than manual labour. (Carol had that handled anyway, plus, she knew where all the bodies were because she was the one who’d left them there.) Brunnhilde protested that she was the captain. Carol came way too close to saying not of this ship, but stopped herself. Instead, she suggested Brunnhilde do like any other captain would and let her underlings take on the grunt work. That got a smile, if not verbal agreement.

Thankfully, Peggy was a fast learner; Carol explained the basics of what she’d done to wreck something and Peggy quickly understood how to walk back the damage. They worked their way through the ship, staying at neighbouring stations so Carol would be there if Peggy had questions, and Peggy would be there if (when) Carol had messed something up so badly that it needed four hands to fix.

“Maria would’ve been great with this,” she said without thinking, holding up a fistful of wires while Peggy tinkered beneath.

“Maria?”

It was easier to talk about her than it had ever been before. Like with the repairs, she could tell that Peggy understood without Carol having to do much more than gush over how good Maria had been at fixing stuff, how thorough she’d been with the plane she’d kept in the hangar on her property, how reliable, how trustworthy, how patient…

“Yes,” Peggy told her with a smile. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

“She was.”

But when the two of them had finished their circuit of the ship and Carol went to tell Brunnhilde they were good to go, she wasn’t there. Carol panicked, worried that Brunnhilde had overheard all her praise of Maria and somehow missed the tone of a person who was in the late stages of grief, who had accepted the worst and was keen to keep living, maybe even loving.

When she couldn’t find her on the ship, she jogged down the ramp, intending to look for her outside. The second she turned to face the water, she spotted Brunnhilde coming towards her from the escape vessel. Carol ran out to meet her.

“What’s all this?” she asked in a tone of amusement, because Brunnhilde had her arms full.

“Food, Peggy’s jacket, a couple beers that didn’t get smashed when Thanos rammed us, uh…” She tried to examine the rest of the pile she was carrying, but it teetered and slipped; laughing, Carol scooped a few things out of her arms before they could end up in the shallow water.

“I thought you might’ve taken off on us,” she said lightly.

“I didn’t think you thought I’d be capable of that after getting zapped.”

“I was just…”

Brunnhilde walked close, pressing her arm into Carol’s.

“I know. I would’ve been the same way if it’d been you.”

“I don’t even know if I can get electrocuted,” Carol said.

“I’m not gonna recommend trying it for fun,” Brunnhilde told her. “Anyway, I used all my discs on Thanos and I dropped the remote in the water somewhere… You’d have to go to Thor with your request, ask him to bring the lightning down.”

“Straight to Thor?!” Carol laughed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Or you could just stand around outside in New Asgard during a storm and wait for it to happen naturally.”

“And why would I need to be in New Asgard specifically?” Carol asked in a teasing voice. “I could get struck by lightning anywhere.”

She watched Brunnhilde flounder but couldn’t get an answer out of her, not on the way to the ship, not while she was distracted with Peggy asking her a slew of health questions, and not while they were trying to figure out how to get this humongous spaceship off the ground with a crew of only three people.

As they made their rocky assent, Carol was too busy to wonder whether Brunnhilde had heard her talking about Maria before she’d left the ship to scavenge from the escape craft. They had just broken through the atmosphere, blue sky giving way to black, when Brunnhilde spoke.

“Love’s like war.”

It was so sudden that Carol snorted a laugh.

“Ok, poet,” she said. She was tempted to devote some time to getting Thanos’s ship to play her music, if only to put on ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ for Brunnhilde. To let her know what had been said on the subject already.

She smirked to herself when Brunnhilde continued, clearly not giving a shit about her interruption or joking criticism.

“It is.”

“What do you mean?” Carol asked more seriously.

Brunnhilde shifted in her seat, engaging different protocols for outer space travel. Carol noticed the tremor had gone from her arm.

“You do better in both because of experience,” Brunnhilde said, looking straight out the viewport. “Anybody who can’t appreciate the benefit of falling for someone who’s been in love before is a fucking idiot.”

“And you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“I hope that isn’t a question.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. They flew in silence for a while.

“When we get back,” she said eventually, peering shyly over at her captain, “I owe someone important to me a visit, but then I’m coming to see you. Just a heads-up.”

“Vaguely threatening.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Brunnhilde told her, grabbing her forearm to get her full attention, “I liked it.”

Heat raced up Carol’s neck until she was blushing as bright red as her suit, or the dumb acid burn on her arm.

Just then, Peggy’s agitated voice came from the other end of the wide flight deck.

“Someone’s coming right at us!”

Before Carol had the chance to say what the hell? or who? or again?, an incoming message threw a distantly familiar face up in front of them, hovering in the form of a hologram.

“Hey,” Carol greeted. “Small universe.”

—

Peggy had never thought to imagine what Gamora might be like. She’d had an account of Peter Quill’s affection for her from Rocket, but had recognized that a portrayal of the woman that crew had known—the woman Peter had loved enough to forfeit his life in the quest for reunion—couldn’t be fully accurate. At best, the Gamora they described would be one layer removed from the real person. The Gamora they had known and the one whose hologram had just appeared before Peggy, Carol, and Brunnhilde were a handful of years and a thousand experiences apart.

It seemed absurd to Peggy that this woman may wish to harm them, but she really ought to have considered it.

“Was it your distress signal I picked up?” Gamora asked flatly, eyes locked on Carol in the pilot’s seat.

“Umm… yep.”

“And you still require assistance?”

Carol glanced at Brunnhilde, then over to Peggy, who nodded. They certainly had worked wonders, she felt, in getting this massive spaceship off the planet, but who knew how many things could go wrong between here and Earth? Peggy doubted either of her shipmates had told her the half of it. They were simply short-staffed, too few fingers available to plug any metaphorical leaks they might spring on the journey.

“Yes please,” Carol told her.

With a nod, 2014 Gamora went from unknown quantity to ally. Peggy sighed in relief.

The three of them were transported directly from Thanos’s ship to Gamora’s. The process was quite indescribable, Peggy thought. Tingly, quick, with a bit of a lurch as she rematerialized on an entirely different flight deck from the one she’d just left. Had the transfer been instantaneous? Had she, perhaps, ceased to exist for a moment or two? She was full of questions but unsure to whom she should direct them.

Gamora, while welcoming in deed, was somewhat inscrutable when they met her face-to-face. Standoffish. Unsure of herself, Peggy realized. Immediately, she warmed to the woman. She had been in her place herself once, sort of, if not precisely in her intimidating boots. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been ferried through time to find the world completely changed. What Gamora needed was a reason to trust them the way they were trusting her.

“I take it you killed my father?” Gamora asked plainly once they were aboard.

Oh dear. It seemed they weren’t off to a very auspicious start.

Brunnhilde stepped in front of Carol, who’d just been opening her mouth to speak, presumably to claim responsibility.

“I was the captain,” she stated. “Thanos was killed on my orders.”

“Uh, no, not explicitly,” Carol argued.

“Anyway,” Peggy piped up, “I’m the one who shot him in the head.”

“And he was only vulnerable to that because I electrocuted him to within an inch of his despicable life and his helmet fell off,” Brunnhilde countered.

“On a planet I flew us to,” Carol reminded them.

“We’ll be sharing the blame,” Peggy informed Gamora on behalf of her crewmates.

Gamora cocked her head consideringly.

“And if it’s approval?” To their universal silence, she explained, “I know what he was capable of in my time, and I saw enough of Earth to get a general idea of what he was set to accomplish if he wasn’t stopped.”

“Were you out here hunting him too?” Peggy took a step towards her.

Directing her gaze away from them, Gamora blinked rapidly, looking momentarily confused and upset. In the next second, she’d hidden any outward hint of those feelings.

“I should’ve been,” she said, “but I’ve never been able to stand up to him like I should have. After I left your planet… for a while, I wasn’t looking for him. But I began to see signs. And then Peter Quill came.”

“Peter!” Carol said. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Rocket never said—”

“No. I just watched. I followed him for a while. I knew he was looking for me. He was so… loud.” Gamora made a face. “Leaving word for me everywhere, telling traders and transports that he was my boyfriend. He was an idiot, but an entertaining idiot… I barely noticed that I’d stopped keeping track of Thanos until he just showed up…

“I was a coward,” Gamora went on. “I saw my father intercept Peter’s ship and I knew what would probably happen, but I couldn’t put myself between the two of them. Was I supposed to stand up for this guy when I’d never been able to stand up for myself? I was raised to be cruel, to think of myself, that attachments formed to accomplish anything but the acquisition of power make you weak. I know Thanos killed Peter. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Peggy stood in front of her, refraining from placing a reassuring hand on Gamora’s shoulder when she gave her cagey eyes.

“It’s not,” Peggy told her firmly.

“I only heard your distress signal because I heard Peter’s first,” Gamora said. “I went onboard after my father had left; it was days before I could force myself to do it, maybe longer. I used his communications system to speak to his crewmates on Earth.”

“You must’ve just missed us leaving,” Brunnhilde said.

“That’s what he told me. He said three more morons had left the planet, on their way to hunt down Thanos.”

“And you’ve helped us,” Peggy said, tone insistent. “If you do feel any responsibility for what happened to Peter, then surely you should also believe that you’ve redeemed yourself by saving our backsides.”

Gamora’s eyes squinted as though she were in pain.

“I owed him more than this and I hate it,” she said, jaw clenched. “He was no one to me. He knew someone I’m never going to become.”

“Shhh. I know,” Peggy said soothingly.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Have you ever had someone tell you they love you when it feels like it’s impossible that they even know you? That whoever they loved had to be a different person from who you are?”

Peggy’s shoulders fell. She could feel the bittersweet smile on her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Gamora appeared surprised to have been brought up short in such a manner.

“Do you have any advice?” Peggy urged softly.

For a minute, Gamora was quiet, staring hard at the wall. Peggy could feel that the others had backed away, giving them time and space when Gamora’s stream of information had been diverted by the confusing grief she was obviously experiencing.

“Whatever lengths he goes to because he thinks you’re better than you are…” Gamora finally said, turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Try to be worth it.”

“Got it.”

Peggy folded her hands together, pressing her right palm to her wedding ring.

—

They were about to get underway, their new crew of four on a significantly smaller, though sleeker, ship. (Brunnhilde didn’t mourn for the one they’d left in the shallows; it had served them well, first the Asgardians and now the team responsible for the death of Thanos.) However, staring out the viewport from the seat in which she’d been installed as the effective second-in-command, Brunnhilde didn’t feel right. The sight of Thanos’s ship just hanging there in space unnerved her. It would be better if no trace of the Titan remained.

“Let’s blast it,” she suggested to the deck at large.

“Thanos’s spaceship?” Peggy checked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Carol said, “we aren’t near anything. There’s nothing for the debris to hit…”

Brunnhilde smiled slightly and looked to the captain.

“Gamora? Do you have any weapons on this ship that could do the job?”

“There is one thing I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Gamora said, gaze fixed on Thanos’s ship. “First, we’re going to need to get clear.”

She piloted them away—away from the planet, away from the ship. Part of Brunnhilde wanted to request the honour of launching the torpedo Gamora was setting the coordinates for, locking it onto her late father’s final vessel, but she was already satisfied with the role she’d played. Let Gamora take this final, symbolic step. It was like Thor’s hideous couch; Brunnhilde had helped him lug the thing into the open air, but permitted him to drop the match (once she’d soaked the cushions in lighter fluid, just in case it wasn’t sufficiently saturated in spilled beer). She would content herself with watching it go up in flames.

And it did. It was an impressive explosion, scattering wreckage in a wide perimeter Gamora had kept them outside of. They were briefly silent as jagged hunks of metal twisted in the void.

“That’s one way to get the stink of dead bodies out,” Carol noted, and Brunnhilde turned to her, shoulders shaking with laughter Carol quickly joined in on.

They flew for some time, and it was good just to relax, to stretch in her seat and tilt her head from side to side so that her neck cracked horrendously and Peggy said things like “good lord!” while Carol laughed her ass off. Brunnhilde remained alert though. She couldn’t help it. In the old days, with the Valkyrie, there’d been a certain relief when the battle in which they’d been engaged was done, but they’d only known true rest once they’d returned to Asgard. Home. The last time she’d been on a ship bound for Earth, the atmosphere had been one of intense grief, muffled weeping in the corridors. They’d known Earth as Midgard and had little admiration for its country of Norway, chilly with fog and swathed in the bleak colours that reflected their inner emptiness. Nothing they loved was there—not their people, not their gleaming towers and soaring statues. How could it ever possibly feel like coming home?

Brunnhilde had honestly believed she’d lost her ability to experience that feeling, that, without her sisters-in-arms, the sensation was lost to her. Yet, despite the tension she still carried from the fight, she felt it easing. She felt herself longing for home, her little house at the water’s edge. For the chance to return to her people as their king and announce a great evil defeated. Maybe this tension was only anticipation after all.

In contrast to the fruits of her own contemplation and revelation, Gamora’s private thoughts had left her expression mournful and roving. Brunnhilde exited the deck to relieve herself and find something to eat in Gamora’s stores, and when she returned, she addressed her.

“You’re not taking us all the way to Earth, are you?”

Gamora flicked her gaze sideways to assess her. Brunnhilde knew there was no judgement to be found in her face, so she stared back calmly.

“I’m taking you to Quill’s ship. Thanos, in his infinite arrogance, didn’t damage it. Maybe he thought he might like to return to it some time and claim it as part of his fleet. It’s a tribute to how much I continue to feel my father’s influence that I planned to do the same. Not build a fleet, but go back. There’s something about that ship… I find it comforting.”

Brunnhilde frowned thoughtfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it and leave this one for us?”

“No. What I felt when I was onboard, examining it and… and removing Quill’s body for space burial… that was just a feeling of, I don’t know, another life. There’s a group on Earth for whom that ship means something. And it’s the only thing they have of him. I couldn’t keep it.”

“One of those people is your sister,” Brunnhilde said carefully.

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t like me very much. I don’t blame her,” she added as Gamora gave her a wary look. “She was upset.”

“Nebula is at her most dangerous when upset, and she’s always upset, so she’s always dangerous.”

“She was upset about Peter’s death. But I think also because, without him, no one was out here looking for you.”

Gamora stiffened.

“If she really wants to find me, she can come look for me herself. I’ll be ready.”

“She doesn’t want to fight you,” Brunnhilde said. “She misses you. I think. It’s really none of my business.”

“Why would you wish to get involved in our family affairs?” Gamora’s voice was more curious than accusing. “Besides murdering our father, of course.”

Brunnhilde sighed before answering.

“I’ve lost many people I cared about. I don’t have a family anymore.” She glanced over to see Carol and Peggy bent over a screen together, Carol’s sudden snort infecting Peggy until they were both laughing. “I mean,” Brunnhilde corrected herself, “I didn’t.”

When they arrived at the Benatar and Gamora transported Carol and Peggy off her ship, Brunnhilde motioned for Gamora to hold off a moment on removing her.

“If we don’t meet again,” she said, sticking out her arm for Gamora to grasp.

Gamora gripped her tightly and nodded.

“I think we might though. I thought about it and realized it’s easier for me to find Nebula than for her to find me.”

“I may have left you her coordinates.” Brunnhilde released Gamora’s arm. “Enjoy Missouri.”

She joined Peggy and Carol on the Benatar, pausing to bend over Carol’s seat to surprise her with a deep kiss before she took up her own position. She brushed stray strands of hair back out of Carol’s dancing eyes.

“I’m going to have to redo your braid,” Brunnhilde told her.

“Oh, we’ll have time. We’ve got quite a road trip ahead of us. Luckily… Peter left us his tunes.” Beaming, she started up a song with a bright beat.

Brunnhilde smiled and went to her seat, fastening herself in as Carol readied the vessel for launch.

“You know,” Peggy said thoughtfully, slinging her jacket over the back of her chosen seat, “before all of this, I was actually quite afraid of outer space.”

Carol laughed.

“I can’t imagine why.”

[sammiknowss]

On my last post, the trait I gave Fitz actually belongs to me. I have a habit of writing things in my notes that aren’t necessarily prevalent to the class. As such, I present to you: AOS characters (really just bus kids + May and Coulson) as things I have written in my notes that aren’t notes.

Pt 1

Skye - “Trucks ‘Beep! Beep’” - “I’m so cold… Brr.” - “Look up high waisted Kylo Ren”

Ward - “I got dehydrated once, I hallucinated popsicles floating around my head”- my BYS 119 Professor - “One of my favorite things about genetic variation is talking about dogs!”

Fitz - “Performing w/ snake on their shoulders - snake poops all over the stage. Finished show w/ snake poop everywhere. Scary Clown crew has to clean up before next band’s turn. Scary clown number 1 barfs, which causes scary clown number 2 to barf and so on. Audience is barfing, everything is chaos. - Example of a positive feedback loop” - “Dad’s Mitochondria goes *fart sound* at fertilization” - my BYS 119 Professor

Simmons - “Fiber in cellulose is good for us because it helps us poop!” - “mysterious little critter” - “Color code = Pink!” - *during a math test* “Leave me alone. I’m a biologist, I got it.” - my BYS 119 Professor

Coulson - “Did you already eat? Dinner in the cafeteria at 7:30?” - “Here’s the guitar solo” *plays air guitar in silence* - my BYS 119 Professor - “Do we have any bread?”

May - “It’s goo. You made goo.” - random drawing of a bunny in a backpack

These are notes from just one class! Let me know if I should do this again!

[whackmewithwhump]

Intro to The BoxCutters

Okay guys, for once I promised something and I'm gonna deliver. This is a band of OC's that I created and very much would like to put into compromising and fun whumpy situations. This is a brief overview of the band members, and their personality, but I do have quite a bit of worldbuilding and other details all in my head about this stuff. So without further ado, meet the new crew, and don't hesitate to tell me what you think!!

Chante: (26, asexual, panromantic) okay so Chante is our lead man. He sings and plays lead guitar, but sometimes he plays the keyboard, or will hop on and surprise the crowd with some other instrument.

He actually has a degree in engineering, but has always loved music. Many people would describe him as a bit of a prodigy, he's the sort of guy who can pick up and play most instruments, but the credit goes to his hard work more than anything else. He's dedicated to his craft and it paid off big time over the years.

He's incredibly friendly and open. The sort of guy who sees a room of strangers as a room of future friends. He's great at networking and making connections for the band, and is well loved by most people. He can be a little bit of a control freak sometimes if people aren't taking things as seriously as he is, and can also wear himself down by not knowing his limits.

He absolutely rocks crop tops, is a total morning person, collects guitars and treats them like his babies (can unintentionally be a bit of a snob about it), and he gives music lessons as a side hustle.

Keiko: (25, straight) Keiko is our bassist, she's a huge stoner, and an original member of the band. She's a pretty good songwriter, and has written a lot for them over the years. She's got a wicked sense of style and a wicked sense of humour. Probably the ultimate memelord of the group. She's messy in all senses of the word, gets distracted and ends up in drama. She's not afraid to stand up for herself or for others, but is very much a sweetheart. She's just a sweetheart that is incredibly blunt.

Keiko makes herself at home wherever she is. She can get comfy and take a nap anywhere. She's incredibly artistic, and usually has several projects on the go. She's got big ambition but little follow through. She has two pet rabbits, Peter and Apple Juice, and she would die for either of them and gives them the best life possible. She's a big lover of animals, including all of the critters that people are generally scared of, and would scold anyone who dare even think about squishing a bug. She's got a tattoo sleeve inspired by the Great Barrier Reef.

Lastly, she lives in a house with Tyson, they've been roommates for years, along with a rotation of various strangers. The two of them are the big trouble makers of the group, and often have a rather annoying friends with benefits thing going on with each other while they're bored. It doesn't even cause friction, because they have zero romantic interest in each other, but it's definitely not the best use of either of their time.

Sadie: (26, lesbian) Sadie is a guitarist and singer and the newest member of the band, introduced to them by Chante after he'd graduated from university. It was the two of them that really got the band up and running again. She's incredibly organized, and with Chante's executive skills, they whipped thing back into shape.

She doesn't usually sing lead, but on occasion she will. Whether she's leading or being a second vocalist, she has a really powerful and beautiful voice that brings a lot of texture and life to the sound of their music. Out of the group, her stage presence is the most different to her everyday personality. On stage she unleashes this monster of a performer, and always gives her all to put on a show. She'd be the most likely to stage dive and crowdsurf.

Otherwise, she is the most subdued and lowkey of the gang. She's not quiet or shy per se, but she has lots of intention behind what she says. Sadie is also a massive flirt, and a bit of a hoe, but we don't slutshame her. She's always getting with the ladies, and has many short term relationships, but things never get too serious before she sorta gets scared and dips.

Her style is very simple and clean cut (my drawing is kind of extremely casual compared to what she'd usually wear). She's the sort of person to iron all of her clothes, and buttons her shirts all the way to the top. She makes this very put together look seem incredibly edgy, but the mullet helps with that. Unlike Chante, she doesn't collect guitars, but has two that are reliable and that she cherishes and will use till they're falling apart. (Oh and she's a total lightweight)

Tyson: (25, bi) Tyson is our drummer. He has been a percussionist since a young age, and ended up being quite the band geek in high school because of it. He loves to mess around with the toys (percussion toys, you sickos) but his passion has always been drumming in its various forms. He gets to whack things, what's not to love? The Boxcutters were his idea, and it was his humble garage where the band got its start as angsty teens. A classic origin story.

His parents were mostly happy for him to be engaged in anything that kept him out of trouble, since he has ADHD that leans very much towards the hyperactivity side, as it often does with males, and he struggled a lot throughout his childhood with being quite disruptive. He is very competitive, and sometimes takes things too far because of this, and will never turn down a dare. Fortunately his friends are around and are pretty good at reining him in when they need to. Being the third out of four children in his family, he's always felt the need to get attention, which he usually tries to get by being a class clown sort of character, but he often doesn't know when is the right time for that stuff. On top of it all, he's a chronic oversharer. He unintentionally is rude a lot of the time, or can sometimes snap and be mean, but he almost always is willing to accept responsibility and apologize once he's cooled down.

He's great at a party and fiercely loyal, a sweetie that sometimes tries to be tough but it just ends up being very funny.

[ducktracy]

184. the woods are full of cuckoos (1937)

release date: december 4th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (owlcott, walter finchell, milton squirrel, wendell howl, fox, raven mcquandry), tedd pierce (ben birdie, tizzie fish, andy bovine), sara berner (polly gillette, canary livingstone)

this cartoon gets the honorable award of possibly being the most dated warner bros. shorts in its vast repertoire of cartoons. not to worry! this will be a fun cartoon to unpack—i love delving into the shorts that involve extensive research. learning something new is something that‘s very rewarding to me, and i hope it is to you, too!

a giant ode to the short lived radio program community sing (lasting from 1936-1937), the short chronicles a woodland radio show hosted by a variety of caricatured animals putting on various acts.

iris in to the ringing of a bell. a pudgy, bespectacled owl rings it as he stands illuminated by the moonlight, preaching to all of the woodland critters, ready to start the show. he introduces himself as “owlcott”, a take on commentator alexander woollcott. he “blandly announces” (his words, not mine) the introduction of the master of ceremonies, ben birdie--a bird caricature of radio personality ben bernie, “the old maestro”.

birdie’s caricature is not new to audience’s eyes. the caricature, along with a handful of others, is reused from friz freleng’s the coocoo nut grove from 1936, a short that is very similar in vein to this one. tedd pierce provides birdie’s suave, velvety vocals as he introduces the program, only to be interrupted by the nasally cries of mel blanc. out pops walter finchell, a caricature of bernie’s faux-enemy walter winchell, both of whom carrying a notorious (and fake) feud in the radio-verse. it was common for winchell to interrupt the smooth-talking bernie, either throwing pranks or remarks his way, to which bernie dismissed every time. indeed, a signature tashlin upshot angle reveals finchell dropping an egg on top of birdie, who blocks it nonchalantly with a handy umbrella.

art loomer’s backgrounds for the cartoon are absolutely gorgeous. they’re vibrant in color, very lush and painterly, but remain playful and sophisticated at the same time. they certainly serve as a highlight to the short. and, as always, carl stalling’s scores are a blast to hear--his sardonic, wah-wah rendition of “cause my baby says it’s so” is a jolly juxtaposition to the prior score of “love is on the air tonight”, the latter being the song’s cartoon debut. it would be reused in cartoons such as the daffy doc, whereas “cause my baby says its so” was heard previously in rover’s rival.

birdie introduces a clever squirrel caricature of milton berle, whose routine gets interrupted by a little parrot named polly. polly is a take on eileen barton’s character, little jolly gillette, who was portrayed as the daughter of the show’s sponsor. polly and milton go through their act together, polly bluntly (yet innocently) announcing “my daddy says ya gotta let me sing ‘cause he’s a sponsor!” you can listen to real recordings of their banter here!

volney white’s animation of milton and polly is lively and jovial, constantly moving. milton energetically introduces us to our next star, pointing in the wrong direction and fixing it last second as he gestures towards a bird caricature of country singer wendell hall.

even if viewers don’t recognize the bird’s counterpart, they will most certainly recognize his voice--mel uses his foghorn leghorn voice for wendell “howl”. of course, foghorn wouldn’t debut for another 9 years, but that’s another story. the animation of the raucous bird is fun to watch as he extends his neck and wraps it around in coils around the microphone stand. random? yes, but fun nevertheless.

perhaps even more commendable is the staggering crowd shot that succeeds wendell’s scenes. the crowd is mirrored horizontally, but that doesn’t lessen the blow from how claustrophobic it is. wendell asks the audience to get out their songbooks and turn to page “22... no, page 44. uh, no, uh, page 28. uh, 42, uh, 36, uh, 45...” 

wendell is transformed from an entertainer to an auctioneer, spitting out numbers at rapid pace as his crowd frantically tears through their songbooks. finally, he concedes. “oh, never mind. we won’t use the books.” off screen, the crowd roars in unison: “OH YES WE WILL!” with that, wendell is generously showered with a barrage of books, buried in the pile of rejected papers. the timing of the scene is comedically sharp and energetic, one of the more entertaining acts of the cartoon.

now, for the real song number, lead by goat and bear caricatures of billy jones and ernie hare (would a rabbit caricature be too on the nose?) respectively, animated by volney white. they march out onto the stage--er, tree trunk--and open the curtains to reveal a sing-along to the eponymous song. thus, the camera pans into the lyrics as everybody bursts into the all-too-earworm-causing song number. 

as the crowd, ben birdie and walter finchell all lend their voices to the song, a fox caricature of fred allen sings “swanee river”, clashing with the unity of everybody else. in a nod to friz freleng’s toy town hall where the same routine was executed, a little bunny excitedly coos “ohhhh, mr. allen! you’re singing the wrong sooooong!” the fox bursts into everybody’s favorite Mel Blanc Yell as he repeats a frequent ‘30s catchphrase: “WHY DON’T SOMEBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS!?”

featured in the song is a seemingly interminable cast of celebrity caricatures, all introduced as the camera pans across the screen, each lending their voice to part of the song. some puns require more effort than others (dick powell as “dick fowl” rolls off the tongue better than al jolson as “al goatson”). caricatures include: 

eddie cantor as eddie gander, sophie tucker as sophie turkey, w.c. fields as w.c. fieldmouse, dick powell as dick fowl, fats waller as fats swallow, deanna durbin as deanna terrapin, irvin s. cobb as irvin s. frog, fred macmurray as fred mcfurry, bing crosby as bing crowsby, al jolson as al goatson, ruby keeler as ruby squealer, lanny ross as lanny hoss, grace moore as grace moose, and finally lily pons as lily swans.

speaking of grace and lily, they’re both highlighted as they fight to out-perform each other, seeing who can sing the highest note. tashlin pulls of a rather intriguing camera move: as the pan settles on the two of them, the background changes. it’s a subtle maneuver, but smart thinking nonetheless--especially since the camera extends into a vertical pan. as both women fight to sing the highest note, their necks extend, both of them scaling high into the night sky, harmonizing on one final shrill note. they both crumple back into the stands, exhausted by their efforts. some fun exaggerated animation for sure--one wonders how much further this would have been pushed had this been tashlin’s second stint at WB rather than his first. his speed often rivaled, if not out-performed, tex avery’s.

birdie and finchell have a brief interstitial together before making way for a raven caricature of haven macquarrie (raven mcquandry). his sequence is almost jarringly short, but full of fun drawings and poses--the pose of him standing curtly with his arms crossed is awfully reminiscent of izzy ellis’ work under tashlin and later bob clampett in the mid ‘40s. mcquandry asks “do YOU wanna be an actor?”, parotting the name of his real life counterpart’s show so do you want to be an actor? the audience shouts “NO!” in unison, causing mcquandry to do a take and shrug dubiously. though the scene is only a few short seconds, the animation brings forth some much needed vitality.

next is a penguin caricature of joe penner, singing a hilariously out-of-tune rendition of “my green fedora”. the animation is reused from the cartoon of the same name (notice how he doesn’t have penguin feet!), which was also used in toy town hall. not a complaint, but more an observation--this is by far the most humorous performance of the song yet, sung by blanc rather than tommy bond.

another fun scene with some vivacious animation is a sequence featuring a mule caricature of martha raye (dubbed moutha bray), singing a cover of “how could you?”, which has been featured as an underscore in cartoons such as porky’s badtime story and its later remake, tick tock tuckered. raye’s large mouth served as prime material for caricatures, as we see here. the animation is snappy, fun, and vivid--she finishes her song by “swallowing” the camera, an old trick that beckons memories of the harman and ising cartoons of animation past. 

an interesting trend in the ‘30s WB cartoons is the trend of playing with the iris, whether it was the closing iris out or an iris in between transitions. tex avery would consistently play with the final iris out on his cartoons, whereas directors such as friz freleng and bob clampett would use one as a transition between scenes. here, tashlin uses the “swallow the camera” technique as a segue for an iris in, tedd pierce’s falsetto squeaking “hello folksies!” as we’re introduced to a fish caricature of tizzie lish, a character played by bill comstock on al pearce and his gang.

though tizzie has long faded into obscurity (as has the entire community sing radio show), it’s still quite easy to appreciate pierce’s vocals and mannerisms as he portrays the character. it’s always a joy to hear him doing voices for cartoons--he’s never been my favorite writer on the crew, but he was an excellent talent as a voice actor. his squeaky deliveries, matter of fact deliveries “mix them up... are you mixing? my friends say i’m a good mixer. are you? or aren’t you?” as tizzie haphazardly dumps food items and their respective utensils into a bowl and prepares the meal are nothing short of hilarious. the timing is very well executed and can be appreciated regardless of background knowledge.

after humming a pitchy rendition of “the lady in red” while waiting for her concoction to bake in the waffle iron, tizzie removes the homemade waffle and discards it, instructing the audience “now take the ‘wiffle’ out and eat the iron. you must have iron in your system. or should you?” thus concludes tizzie’s act, certainly heightened in hilarity by pierce’s vocals and timing.

for the final act, ben birdie introduces a possum caricature of louella parsons, the host of the radio program hollywood hotel, which served as a way to advertise upcoming movies by featuring guest stars enacting some of the scenes. here, we have caricatures of jack benny (as jack bunny, the first of his many reoccurrences), mary livingstone (canary livingstone), and andy devine (andy bovine).

tedd pierce voices andy bovine, whose voice burlusqued not only in this cartoon, but to a greater extent in friz freleng’s my little buckeroo not even a year later. devine, a western star, was notorious for his scratchy, shrill voice which was rife for comedic opportunity. indeed, this scene here with pierce’s vocals is nothing short of hilarious: 

the trio chronicle the prodigal’s return, in which bunny and canary coo over their baby son. out of the bassinet pops incongruously large bovine, who shrieks “HOWDY MAAAA! HI PAAAA!”, the sheer volume of his voice enough to blow both of his parents away and out of the scene. and, with that, the scene ends, red curtains colorized from porky’s romance marking the sequence’s end. short, sweet, to the point, and hilarious.

ending right where the cartoon began, the owl caricature of alexander woollcott bids us farewell, the iris closing in on the bell he rings as he exclaims that all is well.

like so many other cartoons i’ve reviewed, this is one that i slowly warmed up to upon rewatching it and typing out the review for myself. i didn’t entirely dislike the cartoon upon my first watch, but it’s undeniably dated and deserves its title as possibly the most dated cartoon. without further research, some of the jokes and caricatures (if not all of them) are difficult to appreciate. the animation has bursts of energy throughout the short, the highlights being the scenes featuring raven mcquarry and moutha bray, but otherwise remains relatively simple and conservative. tashlin does incorporate a few intriguing camera angles throughout the cartoon, but many other entries of his are far more cinematic.

however, despite all of that, this cartoon is not without its bonuses: art loomer’s backgrounds are stunningly gorgeous and rich, and as someone who loves the lush, painterly backgrounds of the 1930s, this is heaven to me. and, as i mentioned previously, tedd pierce’s scenes are great--the tizzie fish and andy bovine sequences are undeniable comedic highlights.

so, if you’re willing to dedicate time to put in the research for this cartoon, you’ll find it’s quite fascinating! i’m certain this was a much bigger gut-buster in 1937 than it is in 2020, but even then, this is a good cartoon for people such as myself who love to learn more information and seek out facts. as a result, i’d recommend it to people who fall into that category. if you’re just someone who wants a good laugh and a leisurely watch, there are more interesting cartoons that lie ahead. you won’t miss much by skipping it.

with that said, here’s the link!

[awriterfox]

Thoughts That No One Asked For

With the huge and overwhelming support and success of the Critical Role Kickstarter, I just felt as if I had to get some thoughts about it out into the universe so they stopped bouncing around my head. I have been following Critical Role closely since the beginning of campaign two and have watched all of campaign one since then, but I in no way state that I am an expert on the show, cast, or community. That being said, I felt such a huge swell of pride and giddiness when they reached their goal in under an hour and the total continues to climb. No where near the amount of pride and giddiness that the cast has felt, not even close, but still it was there. Then I stopped for a moment and thought about why I felt so connected and so proud of this project, unlike when another one of the fandoms I inhabit does something monumental. Here is what I came up with. The first thing that struck me is that this cast, for better or worse, is so freaking genuine in everything that they do. I am not saying that they are exactly the same off the camera as they are on it, or that they are perfect, but they don’t have that polished presentation that other actors seem to have, even if they are doing an Instagram Live video. It is evident in their show and every time they are together that these nerdy ass voice actors, truly and genuinely, love one another. Honestly, half the fun of Critical Role is seeing the actors have so much fun while also weaving this wonderful and compelling story. I personally feel like I lose something if I just listen to the episodes because you miss the facial expressions and chaos that is happening outside the events of the game. You feel like you’re one of their friends, watching their game right there with them, when you watch the show. There isn’t a member of the cast that I wouldn’t want to grab a drink with or hang out with. To see people who are passionate and in love with what they are doing succeed is heart-warming. Sometimes the good guys don’t finish last. The second thing is the amount of work that the cast and crew have put in since the beginning of the show. From the late nights that the camera and sound people put in when the stream first started to the crazy schedule that the cast keeps as they run their own business and do other voice over projects shows dedication not only to their work, but also their fans. The Critters see that dedication and wanted to give it back, as seen in the fanart, convention halls filled, and support for the actors favorite charities that pour in constantly. Also, no one can tell me that the cast didn’t put in their own money, especially Matt, for the minis, battle maps, and other things needed not only for the show but also the behind the scene production. They love what they do and they work very hard at it, usually showing up to some of their commitments with little or no sleep beforehand. That brings me to the third point, that they have given their fans over five hundred hours of entertainment without them needing to pay for a second of it if they didn’t want to. You never needed a subscription to watch Critical Role, the episodes coming onto youtube in a timely manner if you couldn’t watch them live. Even Talks Machina, which wasn’t uploaded onto Youtube, could be streamed live without a subscription if you didn’t mind missing the after dark segment. I remember that when they first started, a few wish lists were out for new stage lights and microphones, but the cast has never made anyone pay for the joy of watching their show. I think that leads into the community throwing so much support out when they are given a way to monetarily support something that has meant so much to them and other people. Not everyone can draw or craft, but most people can throw $5 or $10 in a pot that doesn’t penalize those who can’t.  

It is that feedback loop of dedication and love, I think, that also made the Kickstart success feel more personal than it probably should. The cast loves the fanart that pours in of their characters and sometimes themselves, which lead to them holding a freaking art gallery for fanart, which is pretty unheard of. When some of the community complained that other mediums don’t get the recognition that the fan artists get, the cast addressed this in a thoughtful response, and then went on to make a show that focuses on tapping into everyone’s creative talents with Pub Draw. There is this cycle of love and support that really drives the community in a way that you couldn’t put a price tag on. However, apparently it is more than 5.2 million, if the Kickstarter is any indication.

So, basically, I am so happy and pleased that the animated special, now series, is going to be made and that the cast and crew finally understands just how dedicated their fans really are. Now, if they could release a pic of the Trinket plushie so I can figure out if I need to drop $200, that would be great.

[lindoig4]

Glaciers and Ice

Glaciers have become an unexpected focus for me!  Hundreds of them!  Everywhere you look, there are several.  We saw one that has an 11km calving front and most are probably 30 to 50 metres high at the face, but possibly hundreds of metres thick in the circ or neve (further inland, the ice is several kilometres thick!).

They are eye-wateringly glaring white, although they contain quite a bit of rock and other debris collected during the inexorable march to the sea.  We were told that most move up to about a metre a day, but some can move more than 20 metres a day.  We have been Zodiac-ing around in front of some, always a few hundred metres away, and seen many examples of calving.  Usually it is just a boulder or two or a few tons of ice falling into the water, making a noisy splash and a small series of waves, but we have also seen many thousands of tons come crashing down, sending deadly shards of ice flying hundreds of metres in the air and creating a surging wave more than 2 metres high right across the bay in all directions.  We can often hear the ice grinding away from the front, rumbling, grumbling and growling exactly like rolling thunder, interspersed with rifle cracks like lightning as the ice slips and splits into crevasses, chasms and serac towers, often portending a huge calving a minute or two later.  Some blocks of ice at crazy angles seem ready to fall in an instant, yet remain poised while neighbouring chunks collapse into the sea with a thunderous roar and surge of water that has had our Zodiac drivers fleeing flat out to put extra space between us and the onrushing tsunami.

On one occasion, I was looking at a crack in the ice where I thought a bird had flown when the crack opened and lengthened and a few hundred tons of ice fell into the sea – but most times, we hear the crash after the event and only see the later stages of the calving.

Once the ice is in the water, it often breaks into a number of icebergs of various sizes, that turn and twist and tumble until an equilibrium is reached and they drift off away from the face of the glacier to float around until they finally melt and disappear, months or often even several years later.  We have cruised around in our Zodiacs, in and out of areas of ice – with icebergs as small as tiny slivers and as big as a small fleet of B-Doubles.  We haven’t seen any giant ones like we see in photos from Antarctica, but we have been very aware of it being the Arctic as we are surrounded by some of Nature’s most exquisite sculptures.  Individual bergs come in every conceivable shape – and many that are really not conceivable at all.  It is hard to understand how particular delicate shapes could evolve.  Some are like pancakes, often undercut for metres at sea level so there is just a crust surrounding a great bulk of ice in the middle. Some are just big lumps of ice. Others are a junkpile of boulders, blocks, rectangular solids, weird shapes, all set at crazy angles to each other so it is impossible to imagine how they could form like that.  There are large areas of slush that the Zodiacs simply glide over or through, and even quite large ice-rocks simply slide aside to make way for the progress of our little exploratory craft.  It truly is a Wonderland, usually still and quiet except for the background whisper of trillions of popping air-bubbles, trapped under immense pressure inside the ice, bursting free as their millennia-long prison melts slowly in the weak sunshine.  It is magic to just sit still and silent waiting for the next majestic calving to occur.  And often there is an accompaniment of tinkling, sometimes a mini-roar as waterfalls of meltwater drip or pour off the larger bergs.

We have also spent time on board grinding through pack-ice.  In some areas, the sea is an endless white pancake, somewhat uneven from the pressure raising some plates over others or breaking them up to stand erect and refrozen in the distance.  This is where we have found some clues as to how the amazing shapes might form.  Looking down over the bow, we see the ship cracking through the floes, buckling and breaking the pancake, sliding plates over and under other parts of the floe, redistributing the weight, buoyancy and pressures to create something of a chain reaction for quite a few metres around.  We hear the ice rumbling and grinding against the hull, harsh and angry. Sometimes the thickness or density is such that when the ship encounters a berg, there is a sudden deceleration or a swerve to port or starboard that reverberates throughout the ship and we are reminded that there are forces far greater than just liquid water outside.

The ice also exhibits a surprising array of colours.  Freshly calved glaciers tend to be quite blue due to the compressed air under immense pressure inside, but this fades to dazzling white over time.  It means that watching the bluest areas of the glacier-front gives us the greatest chance of seeing an event as it happens.  Most times, we hear the initial crash of ice hitting the water and we just see the end of the calving – but for all that, what we have seen has been quite awesome with sometimes thousands of tons of ice tumbling into the sea.  Algae also grows on the surface of the ice so we have seen many areas of red, green, orange, grey and black ice – as well as many areas of just plain dirty ice where dust and debris has blown onto the ice and become embedded – or ground into the sides of the glacier as it scratches and scrapes it way across unyielding mountains on its rendezvous with the sea.  Looking into icebergs, we are often able to see quite large rocks or areas of dust laid down perhaps thousands of years ago, ready to drop as sediment or scree as the ice melts.  The sea near glacier fronts appears quite murky compared with crystal clear pristine water further out to sea.  And walking across a moraine is very difficult where the ice has retreated and left trillions of little round stones or a cacophony of slightly larger ones set at every angle to their neighbours.  Finding a safe foothold or trudging through a sea of pebbles up to our ankles takes its toll on one’s energy.  The icebergs themselves are quite beautiful, usually as sharp and white as can be imagined, but a wonderful delicate turquoise glow under the water, not so easily defined as the depths blur the edges.  Some are opaque white ice, some are crystal clear, many more are a mix of both, streaked with vivid blue or just plain dirty from the embedded detritus.

We have seen lots of movement among the bergs with quite large ones turning turtle and breaking up or large chunks of ice emerging from under nearby bergs and surprising us as they leap up next to our Zodiac.  This is as a result of disparate melting, causing the centre of gravity of the iceberg to shift and the internal pressures created over centuries suddenly creating new points of equilibrium that result in dramatic movements of great volumes of ice within a second or two.  And remember that all we see is the tip of the iceberg – 90% or more of it is hidden in the depths and we frequently drive over the most exquisite blue or turquoise sea beneath our Zodiac.

Local critters

The entire focus of the expedition for most people is Polar Bears.  We have seen several, but always at a fair distance.  They appear as dots in most photographs and people watch from the bridge for hours hoping to see one swimming between ice floes or snoozing on the ice.  For me, watching a fur rug sleeping on the ice a kilometre or so in the distance is interesting for a time, but hardly enthralling.  The ship has spent a lot of time hunting bears with some success, and I would like to see one a little closer (not too close) to satisfy my curiosity, but other beasties are just as interesting for me.

We saw a few Arctic Foxes, not up close, but certainly close enough to see them clearly and watch as they hunted around the tundra for a bird to eat or some eggs to scavenge. We have seen both the blue fox (bluish brown-black) and the more common morph (yellow-white and brown) and they move very smoothly across the rocks and snow in their search for food.

We have seen quite a few seals of various species, some on ice floes, but mostly just popping their heads up out of the water near the Zodiacs to see what these strange humans look like.  More exciting are the walruses.  We saw one haul-out of about 70 to 100 at quite a distance one evening, but we went ashore this morning and approached another herd of about the same number to the closest legal proximity of 30 metres (with the Governor’s Police auditing our activities at a distance).  They were very courteous when we chatted with them on our return to the Zodiacs – the Politi that is – the walruses ignored us.  They were very bad-mannered in fact, constantly burping and grunting, waving their flippers and displaying their bums to us – quite rude really.  But it was amazing to get so close to these wonderful huge animals and see them in their natural habitat.

There are not that many species of birds here.  A book in the bridge indicates that, including rare vagrants, Svalbard’s complete bird list stands at 81, but perhaps less than half those are regularly sighted. My list currently stands at 21, including perhaps my favourite for the trip so far, the Ivory Gull.  There are some other special birds though – another is the Arctic Tern.  I need to do some more research once we get Internet access in Reykjavik or Canada, but I think I have seen 6, possibly up to 8, species that are new to us – ‘lifers’ in the twitching world.

On Board Activities

Mainly eating – with visits to the bar, the bridge and the rigamarole of preparing to go ashore and ‘un-preparing’ when we return to the ship.  It is liberating to free one’s poor feet from their gumboot prison.

But there have been a couple of briefings, a cocktail party (buy-your-own-cocktails) to meet the Captain and some crew, and a few very interesting lectures.

The lectures have been by specialist staff.  One was on Ice and Rocks by Ulliana, a glaciologist, one on Mammals and Birds of the Arctic by Roger (odd bod researcher of various things that make him think he is an expert on everything), and one on Polar Bears by Chris, a naturalist and probably the most impressive mine of knowledge on board. All have been fascinating, almost too information-rich, but very entertaining and provocative even if not much of the detail lodged on my memory-bank.

Then there was the Polar Plunge, a traditional event in which demented passengers and equally insane crew are invited to leap into the ocean without breaking any bones on the ice. Nine intrepid jumpers took the plunge this trip, several had done it on previous expeditions, but I think they must all be crazy.  (Mind you, Heather decided against it, but wants to do it on the Greenland leg.)  It is simply a few seconds in the 1 degree ocean then back into the 2 degree air with a wind-chill factor that probably makes the ocean feel decidedly bath-like.  Not for me, especially not with a gallery of about 60 people making sure I didn’t chicken out – as I am sure I would.

More about Ice

An iceberg that is 250 metres square and a mere 20 metres high (and we have seen quite a few up to 90 metres high), containing a few tonnes or hundreds/thousands of tonnes of accumulated moraine has about another 10 times as much underwater as is visible.  A few rough calculations puts this little ice-block at a over 7 hectares in area or 12.5 million cubic metres in volume.  Given that each cubic metre of ice weighs a tonne, the Titanic really didn’t stand much chance taking on a piece of ice that possibly bulked out at 20-100 million tonnes or more.

When we were all out on deck last night enjoying our ‘funny hat’ barbecue dinner, the ship was cruising along with icebergs drifting past at maybe 11 or 12 knots, we were very glad of the skills of our Russian crew in avoiding a collision with any of them. It was a truly amazing sight to be enjoying a meal and drinks with a parade of giant ice-towers marching past 25 metres or so to either side of the ship.

One thing that surprised me was the manoeuvrability of the ship.  In the Zodiacs, we just zap along, skidding over most small icebergs or turning on a sixpence around bigger ice blocks with only the larger ones offering any real resistance.  But I assumed that the ship would be unable to change course fast enough to avoid anything.  It has amazed me to see the skill of the helmsman weaving between most of the larger floes, sliding past with just an inch or so to spare, occasionally bumping one gently aside with only the solid pack ice challenging the ice-strengthened hull.  The skill of our Russian crew is truly outstanding.

And just a definitional point...... I have referred to icebergs quite often, but technically we have seen very few.  To be officially designated an iceberg, it must be 5 metres high and 15 metres long (or 200 square metres).  This means the part of the ice that is visibly above the waterline.  Somewhat smaller chunks of ice are called Bergy Bits (yep, true scientific name) and anything under a metre high are called Growlers - and hundreds of them have growled along the sides of our ship.

I thought that true icebergs are more common at even higher latitudes and in the southern Antarctic where calving is even more dramatic, but we saw some awesome icebergs around Greenland.  Maybe more later – with pics!

[magicalgirlagency]

Okay, so I've seen a couple of posts you've made about repurposing different characters for your magical girl lore and i was curious about the story these guys are all for? The details you give are really interesting to me and I'm always down for more magical girl/boy content so I was hoping I could learn a little bit more about it?

It’s good to know that you enjoy my brainstorms!

Okay, so its premise is about a universe that was abruptly reset after two goddesses have bent the rules; one goddess BARELY changed things and contribuited to a hurtful cycle, and the other one went insane and changed everything to fit her selfish and petty ideals (does that description rings a bell to you…?)

In this new universe, magic is everywhere and everyone can see it; but only those who are considered worthy can properly use it. The Magical Guardians (or Magis, for short) are humans blessed with superpowers, assigned with the task of protecting Earth from an ancient outworldly threat, the Incubators (yes, I have no qualms in making my hatred towards MadoMagi public)

The Incubators’ goals are still the same: to gather energy through acts of entropy. However, they seem to have evolved and adapted as the time went by (let’s not forget that they have been around Earth since the beginning of the times in the original series). Their cute critter forms is now nothing but a disguise to fool innocent people and steal their energy; when a Magi discovers a Incubator, the alien transforms into a unusual looking monster. Their monster forms tends to vary; they can look like cartoony inanimate objects (like the monsters in PreCure), feral mutants (like the corrupted Gems in Steven Universe), or weird humanoid monsters (like the several monsters from 90′s Sailor Moon).

The aliens’ target are still young women; however, they are very bigoted in their perception of what makes one a woman (in other words, if you are trans, genderqueer or whatever else, they won’t target you).

The Higher Beings thought they have been gone for good when they reseted everything, but it seems that they were wrong. Afraid that history may repeat itself again, they decide to train and recruit pure-hearted and heroic humans to fight them.

The Magis can be anyone you know, no matter the age, sexuality or nationality. They are given the options to start their training at a early age or late if they want (as you can see, they work on the same vein of a Pokémon Trainer). There is also types of Magis, known as Lumi, that are born with magic within them; these types are very rare, though.

Some work in groups, some work alone. Some have mascots, some don’t. Some are young, some are old. To identify a Magi, you must look closely in their eyes; if you see stars in them, you’ve successfully spotted a Magi.

Most Magis are young women fighting to earn their space in a hurtful sexist society, and male Magis (vulgarly known as Magical Boys) are rare due sexism and humiliation, but they surely exist.

Their standard henshin speech is “Magia Transform”, and once the Magi says this, they are magically scanned into their magical persona (think of the scanning halo in the transformation sequence in P&SwG).

They are equipped with a magical compact that act as communicators, radar and GPS, and disguise materialization, and their standard powers are crystalomancy, light projection/molding and ribbon materializing (think of Happiness Charge PreCure and DC’s Green Lantern).

A Magi is trained into magic and/or fighting; some are fighters, some are entertainers, but they don’t falter from their original duties of kind-hearted helpers. They can be whatever they want to be (a warrior, a witch, a robot, a fortuneteller, a ninja, and many other aesthetics), and mascots can graduate into Magis themselves as well (like how some PreCure fairies and mascots can become Magical Girls themselves).

Planet Earth is stage to many stories, with diverse protagonists; however, the main character of the show is a young woman born surrounded by mystical energies and her unusual yet magical friends (I’m still in doubt on how many teammates the main crew should have, though…), who have decided on building a business dedicated on helping others with their magic, no matter how big or how small the task may be.

The Magis have a hub world where they can be assigned to their missions, or simply just hang out, named Wondaria. This magic dimension is a solarpunk society, constantly evolving for the good of their inhabitants (it has become a haven to safety to Earth’s minorities, as of late). Being a Magi is a job that pays in this world, too.

In the heart of Wondaria, there is the city of Artemundo, where is located the Magi Headquarters (a.k.a The Gaia Division), where Magis are sent to their missions through Warp Pads (in the same vein as Crash Bandicoot and Steven Universe). After the job is finished, the earthlings are paid with small crystals known as Credits (or Creds, for short). They can be converted into regular money for one’s convenience, too.

The plot thickens as a rebellious runaway princess comes into the scene, who has traveled through many dimensions and wants to implant a system to expand the magic dimension of Wondaria into multiversal heights by pin-pointing other dimensions and meeting ever-growing casts of non-Magi heroes, and create bonds with amicable monsters, making them allies to the Magis and protectors to the humans.

My story is basically a product of spite and self-indulgence; I wanted to throw loads of shades and jabs at edgy Magical Girl stories (specially at MadoMagi and Raising Project). Other inspirations include OK KO, Kids Next Door, Kingdom Hearts, Pokémon, Super Smash Bros., Happiness Charge PreCure, Boku no Hero Academia, Little Witch Academia, and Jump Force (scheduled to be released in February 2019).

I also want to subvert some tropes in the Magical Girl genre, and some other non-MG series. I want to do the job that Steven Universe and Voltron have failed to do.

I want a story about breaking the norm, unwavering optimism and righteous anger, having zero shame in self-indulgency, defying fate, second chances to those who truly deserve it, gradual healing, self-discovery, love in every form and aspect other than just romantic, proper development and growth, fun and exciting adventures with zero consequences and punishments for wanting to be heroes, and misfits and underdogs getting their happy endings.

I mean, I would make it if my skills weren’t so limited. If someone wants to make a collab with me, hit me up anytime.

[tobinweeks5-blog]

Straightforward Actions To Aid You Far better Understand Hobbies

If you are searching for one thing to do with your cost-free time, it truly is a very good notion to just take up a pastime. No matter what you happen to be intrigued in, you can uncover a hobby that works for you. Right here is some data about hobbies that can help you locate anything really worth doing with your time. If knitting is not your cup of tea, but you adore to perform with wool, why not try a piece of crochet. It is mentioned to be a lot less complicated than knitting, and nonetheless as progressive when admiring the end consequence. From attire to granny squares for a blanket, there is a good deal that can attained employing a crochet hook. If you have put in a good deal of time functioning on a counted cross-stitch project for your residence, bear in mind to think past the completed item. All needlepoint justifies to be admired by every person so permit income in your price range for framing. A professionally carried out framing task can make all the distinction if you desire to hold your piece up on the wall. Attempt utilizing specialist color palette for your interest initiatives. It can be difficult to choose shades that go effectively collectively. Rather of reinventing Orange Essential Oils , try out utilizing some color palettes that are experimented with-and-correct combos. They can make your initiatives seem much more eye-catching. You can find these in paint brochures at your regional paint retailer. Do you get pleasure from working exterior? If so, then gardening may be a wonderful interest for you to undertake. Regardless of whether you choose to expand a vegetable backyard or a flower backyard garden, you can relaxation assured that you will commit heaps of time outdoors experiencing the new air and the warmth of the sunshine. If you enjoy doing work on pcs, you may want to take the subsequent stage and flip computer programming into a pastime. This is one of people hobbies that can pay off (practically) in the long run. The more you teach yourself, the more marketable expertise you will when looking for a work. Plus programming can be a lot of enjoyable way too. If you already like football, make it a pastime. Fantasy soccer is a passion that will get you in the game without possessing to stage foot on the football field. Just get your close friends together, decide out some players for a crew, and then see how they're able to execute throughout the year. Do you enjoy generating your property search beautiful? Then property inside design and style may be the best interest for you. Several men and women do not realize that they can use residence interior style as a passion. You can make quilts, paint wall hangings or construct a new bookcase to showcase your pastime. Nature viewing is almost certainly the ideal passion if you appreciate the all-natural setting, do not want to spend money and just really feel like calming. Get a blanket and sit down at the park or in your backyard. Take be aware of the birds, chipmunks, squirrels and other animals that encompass you. You will be stunned by the diverse critters that you see on a everyday foundation. Lots of individuals enjoy the passion of taking part in game titles on the web. These online games are so included that it's simple to get rid of by yourself in them. You may get pleasure from gaming online if you have a whole lot of spare time in your working day to working day existence. If you journey usually, you could start a selection of items from your travels. There are a lot of products, such as spoons, postcards, or wine bottles, that are effortless to accumulate. No subject what is in your assortment, these provide as reminders of your different vacation encounters. Choose up that aged guitar and discover a handful of chords. You never have to grow to be the up coming Eric Clapton, but you can surely gain from studying about an instrument. Guitar enjoying is a soothing pastime and it delivers you the ability to convey your feelings anytime you come to feel the need to. Getting up a pastime can assist you uncover a hidden enthusiasm or talent. If you are truly fascinated in getting up a distinct hobby, you should do it. You can in no way be certain what you will uncover out about by yourself and your personal abilities and abilities till you try out some thing new. You could even find some thing much better that you want to go after skillfully. Did you know that some hobbies can be environmentally helpful, plus save you some significant funds? Numerous people fret about shelling out funds on a passion because they feel the money could be far better expended on basic requirements. If you choose gardening as your passion, you can decrease squander by composting and employing it as a fertilizer to grow healthier veggies. Expanding your very own vegetable can help you help save funds on grocery costs. One issue that many men and women do not consider when thinking of hobbies is workout. Excess weight education, biking and walking are all superb hobbies that enable you to enjoy the outdoor even though getting in condition. An additional exercise alternative that is considered a passion is swimming. Swimming enables you to continue to be great while enjoying the outside. Be positive to remain nicely hydrated while you appreciate your interest. Whether Nag Champa Incense are actively playing a recreation of soccer or toiling away on a carpentry project, when you are properly hydrated, your mind will work as envisioned. You are going to make greater choices and continue to be safer even though you perform or perform. Parents can support produce their kid's intellect and learning abilities by acquiring them fascinated in hobbies at a younger age. Children love to understand about issues they are fascinated so tie academic factors to the interest or interests that your little one by natural means has. This will have wonderful positive aspects for your child for a life span. Begin listening to and studying about different types of songs for your next passion. There are several on the web sites that make it cheap, if not totally free to hear to all types of issues. When you know the artist, commence understanding about their lifestyle and how they got to be exactly where they are today. Now that you have had a chance to study this article, you have a lot of ideas and information. Think about which Lemongrass Essential Oil look most exciting to you, and then get out and do them. Time is your most essential possession, so make confident that you pick a passion that you can really enjoy.

[thebmatt]

Character Layers: Oldman Franks

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: “Old Man Franks. Or just Franks if you want. The actual first name’s Aleister, but….ain’t no one but the departed wife called me that in a long time. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Still hurts a little to think about her”

Eye Color: “They’re a kinda blue. Always heard the shade was called ‘Steel blue; though I can’t claim to understand why”

Hair Style/Color: “Yeah, my hair’s been white for quite some time...as for the style, well...never put much stock in what it looked like. Sometimes I’d take a brush to it if the...well sometimes I’d brush it if the occasion called for it. Jandelaine showed me this style, though. I try to maintain it, cause the guy did a lot of work for it..”

Height: “6 and a half fulms tall. I’m told that’s on the upper end for Highlander men by people who care about that sorta thing”

Clothing Style: “I had a bad few years where...well, let’s just say I wasn’t able to to put much effort into looking all that great. But I got a second chance, so I put a good amount of work into looking the best I can. Bein able to make my own clothes, puttin stuff that’s both functional and stylish, certainly helps with that”

Best Physical Feature: “I...look remember when I said I had a bad few years? Let’s just say my body kinda went to hell at that point. I don’t wanna say much more’n that. LIke I said...second chance. I’m real happy with what I’ve got now. So...all of it, I guess. Have to ask someone else if you wanna get more specific”

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Your Fears: “....losin’ everything. Goin back to the way things were for me. Or...waking up and realizing that everything since settin foot in Eorzea that first time was all a dream.”

Your Guilty Pleasure: “I ain’t feelin a bit guilty about it, but everyone thinks the Warriors of Light are just constantly fightin’. More of our days are calm than not. So I reckon people’d be shocked at just how much time I spend readin’ or tinkerin’ or buildin’ stuff.”

Your Biggest Pet Peeve: “Selfishness.”

Your Ambition for the Future: “All those things I do in my downtime? I’m fightin for the time when I just do those. When all I do is build or create”

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

Your First Thoughts Waking Up: “Either goin over the list of stuff I’m doin today, or whatever I didn’t finish the previous day”

What You Think About the Most: “Just how....good my life is, really. I know that might seem weird, always havin something I gotta fight to save the star and all, but honestly, all those bad years I talked about...lets just say this is better. I have friends, real friends, a home, and the opportunity to do more than destroy and ruin everything around me.”

What You Think About Before Bed: “How much I miss those I had to leave behind.”

You Think Your Best Quality Is: “I spent a lot of my life as a farmer. It’s hard work, but it’s mostly physical. Never really studied much in the way o’ higher learning, shall we say. Then durin’ my…bad years, I learned some magic but…lookin back on it there was more study and application of theory than I realized, but at the time it just felt like a matter o’ will. Focusing all your anger until sheer stubbornness manifested your will. Now that I’ve left all of that behind, I’ve realized just how much more of a gift I have for these intellectual pursuits. It’s been hard to accept but it’s somethin I’ll never take for granted.”

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: “Call me old fashioned, but I prefer t’spend time with someone I care about one-on-one”

To be Loved or Respected: “I’ll take ‘loved’ any day of the week over just respected.”

Beauty or Brains: “If there’s one thing I learned in my long life, it’s that beauty is not universal. Someone out there is gonna find ya attractive regardless of how ‘conventionally beautiful’ or not ya might be. Me, well, I find intelligence pretty attractive. Someone who’s self possessed and at the top of their field.”

Dogs or Cats: “We had some barn cats at the farm. They were pretty great. Always preferred cats. They took care of themselves for the most part.”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: “....Yeah. Don’t like to do it just casually, you understand. But sometimes you need to motivate someone...or help em avoid fallin apart at that particular moment. They can be mad later when they’re safe. ”

Believe in Yourself: “Not easily. But I’m learnin’, since coming here. Since meetin’ the other Warriors and the Scions. My friends. They’re....they’re helping.”

Believe in Love: “Yeah. Can’t miss it this much if you don’t believe in it, I guess.”

Want Someone: “I’ve found a number of folks attractive here. But actual deep want? Only once. Give anything to have her back. Haven’t felt anything like that since”

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: “Nah. Don’t like the spotlight.”

Done Drugs: “Nah, never had the occasion. I know you’re probably thinkin that’s what I got into during the bad years I mentioned but that wasn’t it. Since comin here the last thing I want to do is hurt my body worse than just moderate drinkin”

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: “This is definitely somethin I did during those bad years. Don’t know how much of it was my choice, lookin back, but at least part of it was”

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Color: “Always been kinda partial to natural shades o’ green. Still prefer wearin’ black tho.”

Favorite Animal: “Weird story, durin’ my not-so-great years, I had a few friends. One of em was a master of beasts. Guy could tame almost any wild critter into worki’n together to hunt and fight. He had this really big cat. Beautiful creature, but it was mean. Territorial. Hated all of us except for him...and weirdly, me. Don’t know why, but that thing would be downright affectionate with me sometimes. Dunno why, but I’ve had soft spot for big cats since then..”

Favorite Food: “Don’t ask me how this happened, but during my bad years I lost my sense of taste. I just ate whatever for nourishment. Now that I’ve...gotten past that, every new thing I try just tastes amazing. So yeah, don’t really have favorites nailed down yet. Everything tastes too good to choose. Even spicy stuff. It’ll probably be seafood in the end. Damn good to be in Limsa a lot of the time”

Favorite Game: “I like card games. Or really intense board games where there’s a lotta strategy involved.”

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: “Tell you a little secret? I don’t remember. I think it’s on record at the Adventurer’s Guild as bein’ the 5th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon, but I honestly just kinda pulled that outta my head at random. They marked the days different where I’m from and I ain’t ever bothered to figure out the conversions. Even then I don’t know that I could remember it.”

How Old Will You Be: “That’s a damn complicated thing to answer. So much so that I ain’t gonna say”

Age You Lost Your Virginity: “My late wife and I got married early in our 20s...but we fooled around a lot for the couple years we dated. Heh. Take of that what ya want”

Does Age Matter: “Maybe I would’ve said so a long time ago. Now, it’s complicated, thanks to the strange as hell life I’ve led.”

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: “Someone whose wit, joviality, and kindness can make me smile and I can forget my struggles even for a moment.”

Best Eye Color: “Definitely silver.”

Best Hair Color: “White with silver highlights that shine in the sunlight…”

Best thing to do with a Partner: “Staying up late into the night just talking about anything and everything, sharing every secret so your hearts are laid bare.”

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “My friends.”

I feel: “Determined. This is my second shot at life and I’m going to do better this time”

I hide: “A lot about where I come from and what really happened to me. Just...the world ain’t ready to know a lot of it. I prefer to let what I’ve done recently and what I’m doin’ now speak to who I am, not what came before.”

I miss: “Like I said earlier, all those I left behind”

I wish: “I could bring back those I’ve lost and bring here the ones I left behind.”

(Thank you to @earthlystar​ for this! If you’d like to fill it out, consider yourself tagged to do so! I’m gonna see about filling this out for the rest of my crew in the future!)