#mckenzie's mum

[igetthedisneybox]

Tell me more about Magnus (Merida's adoptive son)

Backstory (as of now):

Magnus is the grandson of the Witch from Brave.

His mother, Alfreda, was traded to the Witch as a baby as payment for a spell, so she raised her as her own.

Magnus was the result of Alfreda falling in love with a knight from DunBroch, Kalan McKenzie.

The Witch did not approve of Alfreda's taste in men, so she banished her from the cottage. She and Kalan made a home alone in the woods, and eventually had Magnus.

Kalan ends up dying in the line of duty when Magnus was a baby.

Alfreda raised him until he was eight years old, when she started to get terminally sick.

She went to the Witch for help, and she basically told her that she was gonna die, but it's toooootally fine, because Magnus gets to be a prince and stuff.

When she died (her spirit turned into a wisp) Magnus was horrified, so he ran away from home.

He got very lost in the woods for several days, during which he almost died himself.

Meanwhile, a much older Princess Merida (because I can't kill off Fergus, he's still alive) is roaming the woods, when she sees a trail of Will O' the Wisps leading into the forest.

She follows them, and finds a half-dead Magnus.

Merida rescues him, and nurses him back to health. She and Fergus recognize him as Kalan McKenzie's kid.

When he wakes up, he lives in the knight's part of the castle for a bit, but he and Merida really bond. (She likes/ is good with kids because of her brothers).

Eventually, Elinor brings up that, even if Merida's not gonna get married anytime soon, she'll still need an heir to take the throne.

So she picks Magnus.

He doesn't call her "mum" until he's a bit older and healed from his trauma, though.

Physical:

He has curly red hair and brown eyes. He looks similar enough to Merida, that some people think they're actually related. Though, Merida's hair is more orange, while his is more red.

He's fifteen when his story takes place

He's pale, scrawny, and has many freckles.

His face claim is Kyle Breitkopf

I don't have an animated edit for him yet, because 3D models are hard to work with lol.

Personality and Fun Facts:

He holds himself to very high standards, to feel worthy of being adopted by Merida, and to make his birth parents proud.

He pushes himself way too hard to be a good sage, prince, and knight, when all he really wants to do his just be a kid.

His theme song is "Proud of Your Boy" from the Aladdin Broadway show.

I like to imagine Merida becomes friends with the sons of the other lords, and Magnus continues that tradition by being friends with their kids.

He, like Merida, is an expert archer.

He has a pet Scottish deerhound called Beowulf, who's the pup of Merida's dog, Slingshot.

His horse, Saorise, is the filly of Merida's horse, Angus.

He doesn't fear magic like some people do, and instead embraces it.

Descendants Au:

He goes to Auradon prep, and is probably on the tourney team (though he's not very good at it).

He would probably be against the VK's coming over at first, but once he gets to know them, he'd switch sides.

He, Carlos, and Jane would get along very well.

His favorite class would be Enchanted Forestry

Might add some more later, this was fun! Thanks for the ask!

[master-john-uk]

Anne Boleyn (second wife of Henry VIII) moved into Hever Castle with her parents as a very young girl c. 1505.

My mother inherited a special interest in the Boleyn (or Bullen) family. Every year she would lay a rose on the grave of Anne Boleyn's father at St Peter's Church, Hever. Mother's family has lived in Hever, and the surrounding area for several hundred years. Although, as yet I can not trace any direct ancestral links to the Boleyn/Bullen family.

Anne Boleyn was executed at The Tower of London on 19th May 1536. Every year on the anniversary of Anne's death, a bunch of red roses has been sent to the Tower anonymously to be laid on her grave. It is thought the flowers are sent by descendant's of Anne Boleyn who still live in the Hever/Edenbridge area. I think my mother may have been involved with this.

Shortly before mum passed away in 2018, heavily sedated and in a state of delium she said to me, "John, darling. Have I told you about the roses?" She then lost conciousness, and never woke up again.

[jamesmarriottistrilingual]

Headcannons of the Inbetweeners main 4

SIMON COOPER

he/they

Bisexual

Transgender

autistic

supportive mum,dickhead dad

JAY CARTWRIGHT

he/him

gay

PTSD

ADHD

Autistic

Dickhead dad

WILL MCKENZIE

he/they/it

homoromantic

asexual

autistic

depression

dickhead dad

NEIL SUTHERLAND

"what are pronouns"???? (any)

unlabelled

doesn't have a gender indenity

autistic

dyslexia

doesn't have a dickhead dad,he's just a gay dad

[mybeingthere]

Mabel Juli

AUSTRALIAN, GIJA, B. 1932

WARMUN ART CENTRE Mabel Juli is one of the most dedicated and iconic of all Warmun artists. Her seniority and status as one of Australia’s most revered painters has emerged from a consistent and growing body of work characterized by bold yet simple compositions that are informed by nuanced and detailed stories passed onto Mabel from her family.

Mabel Juli was born at Five Mile, near Moola Boola Station (south of Warmun), and was taken as a baby to Springvale Station, her mother's country. Mabel's' bush name' is Wiringgoon.

She is a strong Law and Culture woman and an important ceremonial singer and dancer. Juli started painting in the 1980s, at the same time as well-known Warmun artists Queenie McKenzie and Madigan Thomas. The women used to watch Rover Thomas paint and one day he said to them, "You try yourself, you might make good painting yourself". Juli says, "I started thinking about my country, I give it a try". Juli is a dedicated, innovative artist who continues to work in natural earth pigments on canvas. She primarily paints the Ngarranggarni (Dreaming) stories of her country Darrajayin, which is covered largely by Springvale Station.

Mabel started work on the station as a little girl, and as a young woman moved to Bedford Downs Station and Bow River Station to work. Juli's mother is Mary Peters. Juli is one of seven children-six boys and one girl, Mabel. Well known artist Rusty Peters is Mabel Juli's brother. He also works at Warmun Art Center.

Mabel also left Springvale Station to be with her promised husband. Together they moved to different cattle stations in the Kimberley, including Bow River and Bedford Downs. Mabel and her husband had six children. Juli's husband passed away in 1982; Mabel was 42.

2004: "I started painting when the old girl [Queenie McKenzie] was here-she was the one who taught me to paint. She told me, 'You try that painting’, and I started to paint. I was doing that Garnkiny [Moon Dreaming]; that’s the painting I started with-because my mother and father told me that Ngarranggarni [Dreamtime] story. I was reminded of all those stories from my mum and dad-like Glingennayn Hill and the Old Woman Singing Out for Her Dog. Those stories come from my country [Springvale-south of Warmun]. They used to take me out bush when I was a little girl-good size-and they told me all about those Dreamtime stories. And I always remember those stories. I got ‘em in my brain."

[sarahlancashire]

top 5 female characters?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME

i can't possibly choose only five, i'm going to have to categorise. none of these are in order bc i can't choose between them (also there might be more than five within some of the categories oops)

sitcom queens who got me through the ordeal of growing up:

bill porter (2point4 children)

barbara good (the good life)

margo leadbetter (the good life)

ann bryce (ever decreasing circles)

pat dawkins (the thin blue line)

powerful sapphic characters who make me feel empowered:

caroline elliot/ mckenzie-dawson (last tango in halifax)

bridget westfall (wentworth)

maggie radcliffe (broadchurch)

paula martin (coronation street)

edith lyons (years and years)

millie harcourt (the bletchley circle)

disastrous sapphic characters who make me feel validated:

bernie wolfe (holby city)

dulcie collins (deadloch)

shona o'keefe (this way up)

chase phillips (losing chase)

karen (real women)

jo davidson (line of duty)

proudly/ happily sapphic characters who make me happy:

rosalyn mullens (shortland street)

gwendolyn briggs (ratched)

hannah taylor (harlan coben's shelter)

dinah groshardt (late bloomers)

paula cohen (zombies, run!)

literal angels:

sister julienne (call the midwife)

cathy walker (mum)

kathleen kelly (you've got mail)

lucy moderatz (while you were sleeping)

iris simpkins (the holiday)

helen gallagher (happy valley)

hannah grose (the haunting of bly manor)

isabella (measure for measure)

kay chandler (random hearts)

martyrs:

celia coplestone (the cocktail party)

sara smith (zombies, run!)

major de santa (zombies, run!)

lindsay denton (line of duty)

beth march (little women)

better than everyone:

beatrice lacy (rebecca)

mrs. lintott (the history boys)

gill murray (scott & bailey)

birgitte nyborg (borgen)

janet scott (scott & bailey)

portia (the merchant of venice)

susan ryeland (magpie murders)

mrs. hughes (downton abbey)

lorelai gilmore (gilmore girls)

mrs. gardiner (pride and prejudice)

miss maudie (to kill a mockingbird)

phyl moore (their finest)

cyril woodcock (phantom thread)

you're so hot i can't even think:

bridget westfall (yes, again)

rosalyn mullens (also yes, again)

julia standing (the night watch)

chrissie read (river)

morrigan (dragon age)

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Rhys Darby returns for NZ Comedy Festival

The first time Rhys Darby was praised for his humour was in primary school, when two little girls told him he should be a comedian.

He thought that meant a lizard.

Darby didn't know there was such vocation as a comedian, and got mixed up with chameleon.

It might not have been for him, but Rhys Darby doesn't regret joining the army, it's given a lot of material over the years.

He rushed home to tell his mum that the kids at school thought he should be a lizard, and took it upon himself to start doing lizard impressions.

David Farrier, Rhys Darby and Buttons' radio show The Cryptid Factor is dedicated to the weird and the wonderful, and in particular, cryptozoology.

Rhys Darby and wife Rosie, at the Wellington premiere of What We Do in the Shadows, in which Darby who plays a werewolf.

His repertoire extended to Scooby Doocharacters, people in soup commercials and anyone else he saw on television.

Darby entertained his friends with drawings too. They would look forward to the next instalment of a cartoon he sketched at the bottom of his book.

The entertaining has not stopped since.

Rhys Darby starred alongside Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet in Modern Family.

After making a name for himself on the live comedy circuit, the actor has gone on to become one of New Zealand's top comedy exports.

His big break was starring inFlight of the Conchords, as the hopeless band manager Murray Hewitt, alongside Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie.

Now based in Los Angeles with his wife, Rosie, and sons Finn (10), and Theo (6), Darby's CV is looking pretty impressive.

It includes his own mockumentary series Short Poppies, the lead in the romantic comedy Love Birds, starring alongside Jim Carrey in Yes Man, a scene-stealer in What We do in the Shadows, guest starring in Modern Family and The X-Files reboot, and most recently, playing Psycho Sam in The Hunt for the Wilderpeople.

Even the drawing has served Darby, who is currently writing and illustrating a (currently top secret) children's book.

Darby heads back to New Zealand this month for the NZ International Comedy Festival, to perform as his old duo Rhysently Granted, with Grant Lobban.

Rhys Darby and Grant Lobban as the comedy duo Rhysently Granted, 1996

The two last performed together more than 20 years ago.

Darby's humour was nurtured from a young age, it was a trait he particularly shared with his mother, Barbara.

After Barbara had three girls and a boy, there was a nine-year gap before she had Darby.

"I was very much this mistake at the wrong end," Darby says, whose parents split shortly after he was born.

"So it was just really me and Mum, my brother was with us for a while until he hit his early 20s, but I guess I felt like an only child a lot.

"Mum was a bit older by then and so she got through every day by really just having a wonderful sense of humour. The two of us had such fun, laughter was really the main thing that we kind of enjoyed every day."

He joined the air training corps when he turned 12, before switching over the the army cadets.

When Darby hit adolescence, Barbara  began dropping hints that her son might like to join the army or look at boarding schools, he says.

"It was going to be harder having another child and putting him through his teenage years.

"I think she was thinking I was going to be this teenage tyrant, probably getting onto the wrong side of the tracks and stuff, but of course I was the nicest boy you'd ever meet.

"I guess it was just kind of in my nature to be nice and geeky. I didn't really do any parties or anything like that, I played with my action-figures right up until I joined the army at 17."

In the army, he would often got lost in the bush and get into trouble for impersonating officers.

Darby says he would not send his own sons there, but he does not regret joining. He is only glad he got asked to leave before he saw any combat service.

"You'd probably be better off being a clown or something, rather than a soldier, Darby," he was told.

"I mean you're good for morale here, but we worry once you actually get into combat whether you'll shoot our own people by mistake or something."

Darby couldn't see the humour at the time, but the army has sure been worth it's value in comedy material since.

"I've since gone back and seen that a lot of old British comedians have spent time back in the day in military, and there's a lot of humour that I've got from it.

"It made me who I am, it gave me some self-discipline and made me care about the way I look and do things, and have a responsibility to complete tasks, turn up on time, and I think all that got ingrained into me".

Conchords was Darby's ticket to America.

When the show took off, Darby would often get mistaken for his character in real life.

He and Murray have some similarities – Darby tends to be the one to make the decisions among his friends – "But as far as being an absolute naive idiot, definitely not," he says.

The odd person will still call him Murray, but does not care, because the character was so loved.

"I'm a big fan of him as well, because he's just a sweetheart and optimistically naive and it's the blind leading the blind because he's got no idea what he's doing as a band manager. Luckily his band are even thicker than he is, so it's just a sweet romance between those three."

Having always been obsessed with the paranormal, landing the X-Files gig was the ultimate role.

It is a hobby that has seen him travel the world in search for mythical creatures, like when he traveled to Puerto Rico with David Farrier in pursuit of the chupacabra.

Darby has reached an extraordinary point in his career where casting directors already know who he is and what he can do.

The tables have turned from crossing fingers for an audition, to being asked to attend.

One of the best career decisions Darby says he has made is choosing his manager.

"Ultimately my wife manages everything, so it had to be somebody that could work with Rosie.

"We selected a really cool manager, a guy that I very much love by the name of Tucker, and it's these decisions that continue to lead to great things."

But keeping his Kiwi accent is the career decision he is most proud of.

"That's really important to me, because so many actors when they come over to  America just drop their accent straight away and Americanise themselves, and I didn't want to be like that. I wanted to be able to use my own voice in all the stories I tell, because there are plenty of New Zealanders on the planet and you don't often get to hear them."

"So I'm very lucky, not just as an actor, but a comical actor, that is in a sort of smaller pool of people who are picked for various things in which I can be myself more, and that seems to be working."

As well as Rhysently Granted, Darby performs in three other Comedy Festival shows.

"I'm looking forward to going back and doing that and actually having fun again, because I kind of lost my way a bit in the last few years with it all being such a big money-making enterprise.

"You kind of lose what it was in the first place that made you want to laugh, and it was just that having fun with friends."

Source: Stuff NZ

[misspeppermint2003]

40th Painting of Dear, United Kingdom

I'm finally making the fortieth painting of Dear, United Kingdom. This beautiful fit lady is Polly McKenzie-Gilbert, Will's mum from The Inbetweeners. Mr. Gilbert knew Will says that his mum was dating on the internet, so he wants him to call him his daddy.

Polly McKenzie-Gilbert from The Inbetweeners - 1st October 2023

In The Inbetweeners Movie 2, she was engaged to Will's teacher, Philip Gilbert.

In the soap opera comedy fanfic Dear, United Kingdom, she wears grey jacket, white shirt, grey trousers and black heels. She also wore a pair of blue pearl earrings, reddish-pink lipstick and violet eyeshadow.

Also, I made a pink and sky blue background.

Beginning | Previous | Next

[renee-writer]

Thought on Episode 4

Two kids in a camper, poor McKenzies

All rehab is more then expected. They need to go after the gold.

Poor Ian is having PTSD

Oh the Declaration of Independence!

I wouldn’t be so sure William. They won’t be so easily put down.

William the hero! Poor lass. God they were evil!

Oh Jemmy! Love he still believes the old tales.

Yes, talk to Jemmy! Though I understand their hesitation.

Using Jamie’s desk! Ahh!

Yes he did well! His real da is coming through. Sending him to North Carolina! Yes.

Go Bree! What expects of plant inspection requires a penis! Oh that was good Bree!

Bloody snake! Oh no! He needs his step-mum.

Oh boy. Jamie can’t avoid the war to come, no matter how hard he tries.

Always a man of honor and worth.

They won’t be left behind.

Quiet is never good.

Well done indeed.

Roger’s doubts. Poor lad.

William doesn’t look so well.

Oh Ian! Awesome. Yes he knows yourg father. Both of them. He paid attentigon to his Auntie Claire.

He recalled his baptismal name!

As family, indeed Rollo. He knows.

Tom! That was a greeting.

I am glad he escaped. Ah, now we know how the obituary got in the paper.

Jealous Jamie!

They are beautiful in the sunlight.

Finally they make love!

Hello Rachel

Thank God for pus!

They are so cute together.

He made sure he had something of his father

Who or what is Jemmy seeing?

Red beard! Oops

Smart lass is Miss Hunter.

Claire’s speech brought chills

[rtssaa]

30th of December 2006

I always get like this before heading to school, the overwhelming sense of fear, no matter how much I try to overcome it.

I looked down at my school dress, buttoning up my checkered pattered red and yellow lined dress. Adjusting my dress from the sides. Then straightening up my hair tie from the back of my head to make sure it was straight and tight.

I looked at my reflection, realising that I looked peakish, only because I didn’t sleep well. Pulling down the skin below my eye sockets, slapping my skin.

How was I certain that my plan was going to work, I had to get through this first day without a scene being made about being the new girl. Why I got up an extra hour before Maree, I had to make sure I was nice and early to see the school for myself, find all the exits. And so I could say to the coordinator that someone already showed me around, avoid the welcome committee tour, that way, come lunch I could go straight to the library with no hassle.

I got my school bag prepared, putting the few things I needed in like a note book, my English, and biology books and a few pens. I put my purse with my lunch money in and placed it securely inside zipping up my bag and throwing on my back quickly, I remembered putting the house keys in my dress pocket and zipping it up securely also so I wouldn’t loose it. I always kept a key in my pocket, so I could get in the house quickly or use it to protect myself. Mum taught me that you could use anything as a weapon to protect yourselves from strangers, including keys.

In the last year, I had everything from pens, paper clips and keys in my pocket incase I needed to prevent anyone from hurting me. I wasn’t about to change that this year also. I was going to protect myself thoroughly.

I knew mum was in the kitchen prepping Maree, Pete and Louise’s lunches prior to me getting organised, she was up earliest ensuring everyone had what they needed, I could hear her in the bathroom getting dressed and organised before she woke everyone else up. I don’t think she realised I was up. I quietly slipped out the front door without saying “goodbye” or “have a nice day.” I felt somewhat selfish for giving her the slightest acknowledgement she deserved, but I think I had clear my head from all the anxiety I was feeling about my first day. I would eventually make it up to mum, and I knew one day she would understand.

I only knew the directions to the school because I had walked up the road on McKenzie Street west, heaps since moving up here. It was a ten to fifteen minute walk from my house. Because I packed light, I was hoping to get there by 7.15am, giving me an hour and forty-five minutes to become familiar with the map and my surroundings. I got half way to Browning Street, checking my mobile on the time and punching in numbers to get to the point of my text to send to mum that I was almost at school and I’ll see her later with an “xo” at the end… See told, you I would make it up to her…

I walked past the swamp area past the Kangaroo Flat Footy Club seeing I was getting closer to my school. I picked up the pace slightly to get there in the 5 minute I had remaining before the time got to 7.15am. I was happy I got here early, I made it cross the road straight on to Caruso Road with a minute to spare, catching my breath, feeling my heart race. I broke a little bit of sweat but it wasn’t enough to need deodorant.

I walked through the gates into the courtyard, opening up the map I was given during enrollment following it like I was following directions on a treasure map, past the old dark and dingy building which the auditorium was, the science wing was on my left up a flight of stairs, the map led me into their old fashion courtyard where it had red stone brick footpaths and garden beds. I took a right, pass the other old red stone brick buildings where the admin and teachers lounge was with a stone grey staircase that looked like they were build it the late 70’s onto an asphalt road where the footy oval was on the other side of that road. I treated it like it was off the beaten path, making myself familiar with the area and comparing the notes with the map. I looked up finding the basketball courts below a retaining wall, above the retaining wall stood an old creamy orange building that looked ran down off its feet, that’s where the gym was, on the left they had a running track, because why not an an oval to an already large area..

There were more portable buildings ahead where the road turned into, the building beside me must have been the home economics and French and Indonesian language building that was on the map. I took a turn past the portables, on my notes it said “Australian History Portables. With some gated areas that some of the student locker bays were located. I made myself familiar with where I was getting my lunch, it was closed off by steel shutters, but it looked like a shed, that must have been where the canteen was located, aside from that was another classroom and more locked bays and the coordinators office on the other side..

I turned into another old red brick court yard, surrounded by plants that looked as if it hadn’t been watered in years, which was the other side of the home economics and languages building. When I turned around though that’s when I found my sigh of relief, finding the very thing I was looking for up a flight of old grey stairs in the very end of the science wing, was the Library. I could feel that sense of ease weigh that weight off my already tense shoulders. I gave a quick smile before making myself familiar with the rest of the school, heading back to the path, I made my way around the other side of the building where the library was location, finding both the toilets, more locker bays, on the other side up was the technology and wood-work area and another courtyard made from the asphalt. I looked ahead finding the path back to the front of the school, but decided to see what was behind the tech building. Which was nothing but the car park and the school bus stop area.

The layout seemed simple, it was smaller than Sunbury Secondary or downs, lot less areas to hide, but simple to get around.

A plus was, no alleys no areas where I could get closed off in and I could make a quick getaway round the side gate or the front.

I walked around the school again to become familiar with the area one last time before teachers and students started arriving and taking notice of this strange girl wondering the school grounds.

I took a slight pause when I got back to the courtyard again between the library and home economics building. Chucking the map back in my bag. I felt a tap on my shoulder, I jumped gasping loudly to find a short brunette woman standing behind in front of me just as spooked as I was.

“Oh my god! That squeal alone even gave me a fright.” She said, catching a breath of relief.

“Are you lost sweetie?” She asked..

“No, I’m perfectly fine, I’m just a bit early, thought I would pass the time.” I explained hoping to dodge further conversation about what I was doing in an empty school alone at close to eight in the morning.

“Are you new?” She asked. Which was the exact question I was hoping to avoid.

“Yeah. I’m starting out today, I’m Lizzie Thornton.” Waving awkwardly.

“Oh, yes I was made aware about you, I’m Debbie Highland, I’m your English teacher and year 9-10 coordinator this year.” She responded, I didn’t know what she meant by “I was made aware about you” it sounded more cryptic if anything. What was she made aware of? I wasn’t a delinquent.

“I’ve been in contact with your dad and all your previous teachers, since your enrolment. I like to be aware of where you are at with your all your school work to help ease the transition period, get you caught up. All the other students had a month of Head Start before the school year ended, you didn’t have that privilege. Hopefully we can get you all caught up with the rest of the class before the month ends. I also am told you are an avid reader and a bit of a creative writer yourself?” She continued… I didn’t see a way out of this, she seemed nice enough though.

“We do have a creative writers program we hold every Thursday at lunch in the library if you’re interested. It’s small, but we do it for the kids that love to write. Might see some like-minding individuals…No pressure though, guess you’ll be trying to find your feet for this first month. Transitioning schools is difficult enough as it is.” She smiled and adjusted her handbag.

“Thank you. I’ll definitely let you know” I have her a friendly gesture which almost felt a bit like a curtsy which was extremely embarrassing. She curtsied back making it even more awkward for us both.

“If you need anything, I’m around the coordinators office, which is around the corner.” She said as she made her way to the teachers lounge.

I sat on the brick fence to pass the time, pulling out the one book I felt I could relate to at the time. Which was Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which was when Harry felt isolated from his peers because everyone accused him of lying about Voldemorts return. They outcasted him. Which for the two-plus years I felt like I was dealing with.

I liked to think that everyone has age of strength stories, where they go through conflict in their life and get stronger and stronger till their not afraid anymore, this was the real world, life was nothing like that, which is why reading fiction was the best escape from the reality of how the world actually works. Adding a sense of calm reading adventures was really any type of escape I could get.

I was immersed on the magical journey, feeling as if I was in Hogwarts myself, preparing for war against Voldemorts Army. I was lost in the novel so much that I heard the warning bell.

It was close to game time. Remembering that I needed to avoid the welcoming committee at all cost.

I pulled the letter and map out of my bag, still so mind boggled after reading Harry Potter, i imagined my enrolment letter was similar to the Hogwarts Acceptance Letter.

“ Dear Ms Elizabeth Thornton,

We are pleased to inform you, that you have been accepted to the Kangaroo Flat School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

(We welcome you to Kangaroo Flat Secondary Collage)

Students are required in their home room classes on Monday 30th January, 2006 at 9am for orientation with the necessary materials and equipment listed below.

(Please find the details below regarding your orientation day held Monday 30th January, 2006. Please ensure you bring all required items such as your student diary, a pen, materials for your first and second units and a secure lock for your allocated locker, arranged during homeroom.)

Please also find your classroom and home room details here for the first day of class:

Homeroom: 9I

Classroom INDLANG.04 East Wing

Home Room Teacher: Professor. Irene Partridge

(Mrs. Irene Partridge)

We look forward to meeting you.

Sincerely

Mr. Ivan Watts

Head Master of Kangaroo Flat School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

(Principle-Kangaroo Flat Secondary School)”

The Hogwarts letter sounded way better in my head compared to what was actually written.

The second warning bell rang, I made my way towards the Home Eco and Language Building, counting dodging all the students rushing to find their home rooms. Squeezing my way into the door way and up the steps. Counting the numbers above the doors as I kept bumping into other students and teachers passing by. The scent of musty old buildings, bad body Oder and stale food passing down the hall. I finally made it to classroom INDLANG.04, my home room.

I looked through the glass of the door, students were already seated, some pushing past to get in the class room. I pulled the door open making my way in, trying to find the furthest table and chair in the back, spotting one between a group of boys who seemed like they were supposed to take their Ritalin earlier in the morning. Attention drew on me by the other students as I made my way over to the seat at the back. I took a seat, placing my backpack below me, under the table. I kept my gaze on my hand trying to avoid awkward introductions.

“Hey! New Girl” a boy shouted from across the room, I looked up at his pasty skinny tiny figure.

“Ever seen someone pull off a handstand on a table?” He asked, obviously expecting me to say no…

I raised my eyebrow as they waited for a response and shook my head that I hadn’t.

“Aww, she’s shy! Show her how it’s done Darc..” His red curly headed friend egged him on as this tall, frightfully grey woman entered the room as Darcy jumped up on the table to show off his little technique.

“Get off the Table Darcy Wilson, and quick harassing our new student.”

Darcy looked like he was gonna shit himself, he scurried off the table with his tail between his little legs, sitting in his sit, shutting right up. I had seen hard ass teachers before, I’d never seen one a teenage boy be so quick to backdown or sit still after being told off, usually they clawed back with whit or smart ass commentary till they got sent to the coordinator. Mrs, Partridge looked like the type of woman who would put the fear of god in you if you stepped on her toes.

She meant business, yet still dressing like she just stepped out of a Time Machine coming back from Woodstock, her skirt was as loud and colourful, with patterns that you would only see if you tried shrooms for the first time. Her white loose top and her bold accessories like her loose blue studded necklaces and a silver plated ring, some with jewels on each finger.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back to the new year. For those who haven’t met me yet, my name is Mrs. Partridge, I am not Irene, or Ira to any of you. We are not friends. I will be your homeroom and history teacher for the next two years, and for some of you, your French teacher. God help me.” She wrote her name on the white board with a faded blue marker, by the time she got to her school email it was harder to make out the rest. She reminded me like a female Professor Snape, sharp and too the point.

“We have a lot to cover today before we do our due to our first block, so please pay attention…First up, can I please have our new girl stand up.” She said as she looked at me, stunned I looked directly back at her-great…just great..

“As in, stand up, now.” She said as I quickly bolted up, my face went pale, mortified by the quick and humiliating bold introduction. Before I could open my mouth to speak, I got as much as a gasp before.

“Elizabeth has transferred to us from Sunbury, so extremely new to the area. Jenny Harris, you’re going to escort our newest student around, because the rest of you certainly haven’t figured out where your classes are since you all arrived here, first year.” Jenny Harris sighed and rolled her eyes while the rest of the class laughed, I stood frozen, unsure how to get out of this mess.

“Oh, her dad is also head of Worksafe, here quite frequently, make us look good…that note from the principle...You can sit down now Elizabeth..” Still mortified from Mrs. Partridges blunt introduction, my ass slumped on my seat quickly, I don’t know if I had imagined it being wet from me pissing or shitting myself, chuckles in the background and bold glances at me made me feel that this first day was going to be a battlefield to get through…

As Mrs. Partridge starting speeling on and on about the code of conduct and her hatred of mobile phones, then assigning us to our lockers. I felt the clock wasn’t going quick enough to get us out of there. I grew smaller and smaller in my chair, paranoid about the type of glances I was receiving from the other students. I felt the size of Stuart Little, not to mention the fact if I wasn’t so frozen from this seat, I would have scurried away by now.

Warning bell for first block finally rang. My heart racing to get out of this class as quick as possible. I hid among my new peers leaving the classroom into the hall, toot sweet.

Jenny Harris stopping me in my tracks, one hand on her waist, one raised eyebrow like she had somewhere better to be, and my god I had hoped she better had… She seemed switched on, neatly dressed, but like-her polo eggshell white polo shirt and red cotton skirt were ironed type of neat. Her brunette hair wasn’t brushed back, more scrunched up into a high ponytail. Which seemed to be the common hair style to go with lately…

“Let’s make this quick, I have biology first up…” She turned around and starting walking, I followed behind her hesitantly.

“I have bio too.” I said, I don’t know why it came out of my mouth. It just did.

She rolled her eyes “Cool!” She sneered.

“There’s toilets in the west wing, right near the library. They’re pink by nobody’s choice.” She explained unfazed.

“The toilets are pink?” I felt stupid trying to clarify what she meant.

“Yeah.. Our lockers are also near our biology class. So I would drop off your crap before class. Otherwise people will know you’re new around here.” She picked up the pace as we walked cross the courtyard to get to the science wing, walking up the stairs, yet again pushing through the crowed door. I followed pushing through trying to keep up, bumping into other students rushing to get to their first block.

“Library’s above those stairs through that door, behind you, bathrooms on your right. we have Maths in these classrooms right here. Mr. Golding teaches us, he’s like our new young British stud-muffin, my bestie Raquel called dibs though, so if you’re looking for student-teacher love affair, he’s off the table..” She said still unfazed by my presence.

“Good to know.” I responded, rolling my eyes, still following her down the hallway.

“Art room is here, next to our very tiny computer room. Pottery class is held here. You don’t look the type though.” She stopped turning to face me.

“Our lockers are here” She pointed.

“And our bio is the last classroom on the left.” She said as I went to go put my bag in my new locker, she stopped me, suddenly appearing with a more pleasant smile.

“Just one last thing. I totally understand how crap it is being the new kid and figuring out who to cling to your first day.” Something about what she said seem genuinely nice..

“Please don’t cling to me. Find someone else…great meeting you Lisa…” She said, turning around walking inside the biology class.

“It’s Liz” I mumbled under my breath. Shoving my bag in my locker and closing it, then struggling to get my lock on.

I did say “seemed genuine…”

[writing-and-art]

#22

context: i was looking through my notes and i saw this one i wrote a few years ago. the title of it is ‘Slug Rifle,’ which is mildly misleading but not entirely untrue.

cw for graphic description of vomiting up slugs.

-

Morning: I wake up with a crack in my neck from sleeping in an awkward position and something slimy making itself comfortable on my hand.

My immediate reaction is to flinch back and wave my hand wildly like a maniac possessed by a psychotic ghost, the slimy thing stays stubbornly on my skin- a parasitic abomination from the other side. It’s a slug. Feeling bile rise up in my throat, I fling myself onto my side and vomit.

A slug splatters onto the floor- fat, juicy, and slimy.

Afternoon: I can’t go out of my room. My mother has a habit of going into my room to clean whatever invisible mess exists there when I’m not there.

If I go, she’ll fling open the door dramatically in full cleaner getup and be ambushed by a roomful of slugs, not to mention that I refuse to expose the general public to my charming slug vomiting self. So stay in the room it is. I glare at the slugs and vomit out another one.

Evening: I’m starving. Absolutely starving. My stomach is a black hole capable of feasting on a horse and it’s mum. Problem is, I can’t eat. If I open my mouth, I vomit slugs. If I keep my mouth closed, I vomit slugs.

I can’t take a shower in fear of making the bathroom more of a biohazard than it already is. I can’t change my clothing in fear of slugs infesting my closet and leaving trails of mucus and slime on my clothes. There is no winning for me in this situation. 

Night: I wait, dreading the much anticipated arrival of the next slug sliming it’s way out of my mouth. Seconds pass and nothing happens. With a jolt, I realise that the slugs may have stopped.

Jumping to my feet for joy, I raise my arms in a dance of victory and- a waterfall of slugs come pouring out my my mouth. I receive no reprieve, only the constant vomiting of thousands of tiny slugs climbing from my throat and falling onto the floor with a wet splat.

Slime is smeared everywhere- my hair, my face, and my mouth. It goes on and on and on like my Aunt McKenzie’s diarrhoea when she consumes lactose. After what feels like a millennia, the mass of slugs stop.

Still Night: Barely able to breathe from the strenuous workout of my throat muscles, I stare in unadulterated disgust at the writhing mass below me, almost taunting me with its sheer number. But this is it. I know, in my bones, that the slugs have stopped.

I know like I know my friend Lisa is going to text her ex again because she has no self control and her ex is the biggest jerk I know.

Regardless, it’s over. A cacophony of sliding slimy noises fill my ears and I stomp on some slugs to murder them gruesomely.

Still still night: I hear a gasp. I turn around slowly, praying to every god I can list. But hope is for the fools and the stupid. There, standing in the doorway, is my mother.

[leotanaka]

anytime i rewatch julia mckenzie's "the mirror crack'd from side to side" i remember the very first time i watched it and my mum literally spoiling the ending and who the killer was before the episode had even started because she was explaining to me how my brother had figured out the ending of one of the agatha christie movies a few minutes in years earlier and then the episode started and it was THAT story. it really is the only agatha christie tv/movie that i have such a distinct memory of. like, that was an experience.

[neonpigeons]

[victorianwhitechapel]

Mothering Sunday

Some of the women victims of brutal attacks in and or around London's Whitechapel area between 1873 and 1891 were mothers. They had children who loved and cared about, but as their lives were cut short, neither the mothers and neither their children could enjoy a loving relationship. They are the following ones:

Annie Chapman: Emily Ruth (b. 25 June 1870 - d. ca. 1882), Annie Georgina (b. 5 June 1873), John Alfred (b. 21 November 1880).

Catherine Eddowes: Catherine Ann (b. 18 April 1863), Thomas Lawrence (b. 8 December 1867), George (b. 15 August 1873), Frederick William (b. 21 February 1877).

Emma Elizabeth Smith: A son and a daughter.

Emily Horsnell: Emily (b. 1881).

Alice McKenzie: Joseph James (b. 21 July 1866 - d. 12 October 1866).

Mary Ann Nichols: William Edward (b. 17 December 1864, d. 1866), Edward John (b. 14 July 1866), Percy George (b. 18 July 1868), Alice Esther (b. December 1870), Eliza Sarah (b. December 1876), Henry Alfred (b. 4 December 1878).

Martha Tabram: Frederick John (b. February 1871), Charles Henry (b. December 1872).

Rose Mylett: Florence Beatrice (b. 22 October 1880), Henry (b. 29 June 1883 - may had died in infancy).

We would like to make a special mention to:

Elizabeth Stride: mother of a stillborn daughter result of her 7th month pregnancy (21 April 1865).

Elizabeth Jackson: murdered when she was eight months pregnant.

NOTE: b = birth, d = death

[deuchess]

i have developed an actual real crush on Bobby. every time someone post some headcanons or something of him, i’m sitting here staring at my phone and smiling like a dork.

[choicesmcxjake]

Incorrect Quotes

Mum McKenzie: Excuse me, Dr. Bobby happens to be an excellent doctor.

Jake: Wait a minute. His name is Doctor Bobby?

Mum McKenzie: Well that's his last name.

Rebecca: And his first name.

Jake: He's Bobby Bobby?

Mum McKenzie: It's Robert Bobby. And, excuse me, he helps me.

Rebecca: Oh please. Ask her how.

Jake: What do you need help for?

Mum McKenzie: With my alignment. I got one leg shorter then the other.

Jake: Oh my God.

Rebecca: Argue with that.

Mum McKenzie: What it's true. My right leg is two inches shorter.

Jake: Come on, you're just tilting. Her legs are fine.

Rebecca: I know that.

Jake: Then why do you let her go to a chiropractor?

Mum McKenzie: I'm sorry, let me?

Rebecca: What can I do, she doesn't listen to me about renters insurance either.

Jake: Wait a minute, you don't have renters insurance?

*pause*

Mum McKenzie: No.

Jake: What if somebody steals something? How are you gonna run after them with one leg shorter then the other. *starts laughing *

Rebecca: *laughs and high fives Jake*