#professor elemental fan art

[misterparadigm]

A fun little project for my good friend, Professor Elemental.

#professorelemental #geoffrey #fanart #professorelementalfanart #fatherofinvention #apequest #giddylimit #indifferenceengine #skating

[the-east-art]

Hi Thank you for coming to my TED Talk about how I dont like the Grid Method for drawing

I think most people in their life have seen the grid method for copying a piece of art - if you haven’t seen it you can probably at least get an idea of it pretty quick. The grid method for art requires you to break a piece into a series of equal squares, and then transfer those squares onto a blank piece of paper divided into the equal squares of the same ratio. Conceptually this idea is very sound - rather than biting off the entire picture, you focus on each section. Theoretically, if you can make square A1 look like square A”1, and so on and so forth, you should finish with an identical drawing to your picture. I, personally, have a strong distaste for this method. It teaches bad habits - especially to younger and newer artists. (If you are a big fan of this method please read all of my rant first or at least scroll to the end where I will reiterate some of the perceived positives of the method)

The best way to discuss this is to start with a general idea of how we go about drawing something - especially something from a reference! I will try not to riddle this rant with disclaimers, but not everyone will draw using the same or similar methods, but this is the way that I was taught and when discussing with other artists they usually follow similar ideas: When you draw you go from big to little - from general to specific. Getting too specific too early is detrimental. This is an art rant, so let’s chat about this with some pictures. 

Here I have a picture of a square and a circle. Next to it I have my blank piece of paper, and I want to draw it EXACTLY THE SAME on the paper. To do this - whether consciously or not - I will start taking mental ‘measurements’ of various aspects of this composition. How far are these objects from the edges? How much space do they take up? And I will compare these objects to each other - which object is bigger? Where do they connect - is their point of contact halfway up the square or a quarter ways up the square? In the previous questions I am specifically focused on circle in relationship to the square, so it’s worth noting that if my square isn’t placed correctly then everything else will be placed incorrectly as well. Early on in a piece you want to keep lines light, ready to be changed if need be. One of my professors used to say that you wanted to avoid falling in love and getting married to a line as long as possible, because once you fall in love with your lines you will be reluctant to change them. 

Here I have a square and a circle - although maybe these have a little more details going on in them than our previous square and circle. Now maybe this is overwhelming, but remember we want to start from general and then get specific - our process for drawing this should look much the same as our previous painting! Starting with the outline and general shape! This brooch technically isn’t a circle - it’s scalloped on the edges - but before we put that information in we want to make sure we have the placement of it correctly both on the paper and in reference to our other elements - the square. When we feel confident in those elements, we can start SLOWLY adding the other information. A lot of art is about training the eye - we’re looking between the picture and our drawing, trying to see visually what the difference is and correct it. 

Naturally, the more complicated the piece the more complicated this process becomes. If we, for instance, have a person, thats’ a lot more to deal with. We once again want to work outside first. My professor was very big on outlines and shadows first and details slowly after that - so I would likely want to work on the external form, and some lines, and then work in blocky shadows, and fine-tune it from there. Once again let’s ask ourselves what will happen if we just start with the eye - and we spend HOURS drawing the perfect eye - only to realize that it isn’t in the right place in reference to everything else. We’d either have to erase that eye and all our work, rework the entire rest of the drawing, or leave it to look offputting and wrong. When you start art you can get preoccupied with features, when in reality they should be one of the last elements you definitively put in. 

There’s one last part about this that is relevant to my dislike for the grid method, and it’s the idea that when we’re looking at a piece we find commonalities along lines to help guide our art. For instance here we can see that one eye lies horizontally on the same plane and the back of the dogs head matches with a place on the coat - these can help guide us in making sure things are looking right! The grids may help us to see these things, but not necessarily.

Okay, back to the grid method. As I’ve stated earlier the grid method can be used well and the principles behind it are good - our neat squares provide an easier visual way to do the exact same stuff we were doing earlier - how far is the object from the edges and from each other etc etc. However these squares actually can encourage the artist to focus too closely - again either a square at a time or a feature at a time. In addition they narrow the focus of the artist away from the whole - instead of seeing how everything lays on the entire page, you focus on how things are lying in that specific tiny box. Art is usually a dance of in and out - close and far. Taking a step back. The grid method discourages this. 

I say this again aware that many people are extremely successful using this method - young auteurs who draw a giant portrait hyperrealistic. Leyendecker would use a grid to make his smaller drawings bigger (although I would argue he first had an understanding of the previous methods for the intiial drawing, and used the grid more for enlargement of the previous piece). People do this method and do it well… just more people learn bad habits from it that they have to fight against to progress. 

The last thing I want to say is about how the flaw, always, with the grid method is that it has to be something that you can place a grid on - you become confined to the paper and ruler. While the earlier method was taught to be through still life drawings, measuring with a stick, it was clear that this eye training and method was versatile, and could be used for anything you placed in front of me, the grid method becomes a shackle. And I know I know I know, but other artists have found ways around such a block - the perspective frame for painting has been used by many artists over the years, including Vincent Van Gogh - places somewhere to make the process of copying the real world easier - but why let yourself be confined willingly? If you are a big grid believer I would beseech you to AT LEAST try and expand your studies in addition to the grid formula - a healthy diet of many different kind of studies and practices and eye trainings is what we do to hopefully, one day, be able to put the designs in our head down onto paper accurately. 

Additionally, using the grid method provides no room for your to be using your instincts to help. I’ve been reading through ot3’s personal philosophy of composition and I found the line in the introductions where they discuss the idea of following your instincts very important. Part of my philosophy firmly believes that people understand art ephemerally without the need of words first, and overtime the act of art is becoming more aware of the words and phrases of certain concepts, so that we gain the ability to use and manipulate them purposefully. 

Anyway there ya go! Let me know your thoughts!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You unfurl the strip of legal pad, marked with Professor Halfdansson's messy and pointed writing. The usual scribble that has you squinting at your returned papers. He must be the only instructor in the college that still handmarks his assignment.

Like much of his style, his slanted cursive is chaotic. Often, his lectures or spiraling tangents about his trips to Norway or some mythos unrelated to the topic at hand. He is a well of knowledge, but one which is often overflowing and bottomless.

The subject is far from your first choice. You prefer history with a human subject. Your intrigue is those events which truly occurred, people who once walked the same earth as yourself. Mythos and belief is a human creation but it hardly captures your imagination.

Along your search for title jotted onto the scrap, you find several other books to sate your personal preferences. A book on the Beothuk and their demise and another illustrated index of Renaissance art. Finally, you find the rear corner of the store, the mythology shelves nestled behind Spirituality and New Age.

You hover your finger before the rows and lean in, squinting through your lenses as you search out the rather Nordic-sounding name. You sense a shadow at the end of the aisle but do not look over. You'll just be on your way once you-- there it is.

You pinch the spine of the deep blue tome and slide it out. The cover is stamped with gold runes and lettering, a viking helm the central image. You double-check that it matches the professor's scrawl, however you can never be sure as his Fs look like Ss.

You set it flat on your armful of book, balancing the weight with the rest as you crumple the scrap and tuck it into your pocket. It's a bit more than you want to spend but it will be useful in maintaining your average through Halfdansson's course.

The shadow comes closer and you shift out of the way for the approaching customer. You sidle away as they huff, a breath that fans around them. He leans into the shelf and you sense his head shift and his gaze follow your slow retreat.

"Ah, you are a fan of vikings?" He asks, stopping you in your tracks. "You must've watched the show, hm? Cute series but not very accurate, you know?"

You blink, taken aback but his tone and his assumption. It isn't the first time you've met the attitude in your chosen discipline. When it comes to military history or the lives of vaunted men, there is often an intonation towards female scholars. You have been dismissed more than once.

"Never seen it," you lie, "you seem the type though."

You note his snow white hair, a peculiar shade, drawn back into a half pony, and his blindingly pale eyes. He wears a tunic better housed in the closet of a LARPing club and looms with an air of indignation. He puts a thick hand on the shelf and leans, no doubt used to towering over others.

"Funny, that is the very book I came for," he intones.

"Oh, what a coincidence."

HIs jaw ticks and he snorts, "seems you've found quite the lot--"

"I have. A whole trove."

You go to turn away and hear his sole clomp down behind you, "surely you can grab another encyclopedia. I really need that one."

"Uh, no, this is what I need."

He follows you down the aisle as you keep a quick step, uneasy at how he trails you so fervently.

"Maybe you should grab another one."

"I have all the others. I've been waiting months for that to come into stock," he insists.

"Well, you can find a kiosk and order one in--"

"On a three month backorder," he interjects and grabs your arm. "I'll pay you--"

You spin back to face him and hit his chest with your books, "don't touch me."

"Well, just..." he retracts his hand, "hold up. I'm trying to talk to you. To barter--"

"I'm sorry, but I need this book for class," you hug the books and back up, overly aware of the tingliness from where he grabbed you. You don't like being touched. At all. You can feel your heart pumping.

"Does the school not have a library, little girl?"

Your mouth falls open. Little girl? This guy just can't help himself. You haven't been rude, maybe matter-of-fact, but he's been downright mean.

"Not for sale," you push your shoulders up and back away.

You twist on your heel and speed away. You weave between the shelves and discount tables and join the winding queue at the counter. You don't look back and sway in your boots, waiting your turn.

"I could give you several recommendations for an alternate text," the man appears at your side, crowding you inside the black cords that rein in the queuing customers.

You ignore him and turn your head away. You wish he'd just take a hint. If you heard a single please or any sort of respect, you might consider it. He's only been a jackass and judging at first glance, he's too old for that.

"You don't need it–"

You move with the line and he growls, shifting with you.

"Look, girl–"

You snap your head back and give him a glare. He sucks in one cheek and exhales heavily, "miss, I am asking you nicely–"

The associate at the counter calls for next and you take your cue. You quickly cross the space and put your haul onto the wooden ledge. You hear the pushy stranger snarl something under his breath. You refuse to look back as you hand over your membership card.

Men like that are the very reason you despise the general public. Hard to fathom how you can be so intrigued by the human condition when you can hardly bear to be around other people.

[oldsport1]

So I’ve been drawing Steve Saga fan art for a VERY long time and today is the day I finally share some of it. (Be aware these are all my own take, some characters are more accurate than others, no hate pls!)

(Also be aware some of these are much older than others, two are up to over a year old, so no hate)

I also do have more than this so if you would like to see more lmk ❤️

I’ll try to group them up by character ❤️

Time Steve and Elemental Steve 🕰️🔥

Genesis 💚

M ❤️

Professor Red 🥼 (the right photo is a more recent concept art rather than a fanart)

Assistant Steve and Hypno 🤖👁️

[artdcnaldson]

for someone who isn't the biggest fan of frat guys irl, frat!art has a hold on me. i might be projecting but i can envision an enemies to lovers where he tries to corrupt you. you're this studious goody two shoes virgin and clearly out of your element at the frat party. your friends dragged you there and it's obvious you were sheltered growing up. the way you fluster so easily when he flirts with you like you've never had any male attention before makes his ego skyrocket.

i remember one time you said art would be the kind of guy who fails a class just to get closer to you. i'm imagining the professor appointing you to tutor art because he's failing and you begrudgingly accept. you'd never say yes otherwise unless you were being forced to. arts so annoying the entire tutoring session, just using it to flirt with you. you almost leave but he proposes an idea, where in exchange for tutoring he'll help you get experience. give you your own lessons... art coming up with convoluted ways to get nerd reader who hates him to fuck him bc he's so fixated on corrupting her after she rejected/insulted him at a party one time 😭😭 is it giving cruel intentions a little..?

OHHHHHH I love it!!!

Corrupting you AFTER you’ve already rejected him is soooooo yummy <3

Bc you’re so fucking embarrassed about your lack of experience. You feel like a fucking child while all of your friends are fucking around and doing the stuff you’re *supposed* to do in college. Meanwhile you’re a virgin who hates the taste of alcohol, has never been high, and has never even been flirted with before Art. Of course you thought it was a joke when he approached you— smacking his gum and smiling all smug down at you. It felt like some cosmic joke that a guy that hot would use you as a punchline.

But Art does want you. He finds your innocence intoxicating. He watches you blush and fumble your way through conversations with a guy from the swim team and he knows you’re still completely untouched and pure. It’s like finding a unicorn.

It feels like punishment when you get assigned to help Art out with his class and boost his grade. Art, who shows up late with Taco Bell and cinnamon gum he sticks on the lid of his Mountain Dew so he can finish it after. Art who gets distracted staring down your shirt and peeking at your girlie little bra.

“Does your boyfriend know you’re my tutor?” He asks, leaning in close so you can smell the spice of his deodorant and the cool mint of chewing gum.

You look down at your paper and huff. “Don’t have one.”

“I could fix that.”

And you just flush and look away. “Stop making fun of me.”

But he could. He could fix that. He could fix your awkward, unapproachable personality. Teach you how to smile pretty and dress so it didn’t look like you were ashamed to have a physical form. He’d teach you how to act, how to speak, how to kiss and fuck and moan pretty like boys like.

“‘M not. Just offering,” he says. “That swim guy? I know his type. He likes my sloppy seconds.”

And you grimace. “If you think I believe that if I… if I sleep with you he’ll date me, you’re an idiot.”

He grins. “I’m just saying I know what guys are into, and I really know what he wants. I could show you the basics sometime, teach you how to get a guy. We can trade lessons.”

And fuck, if that isn’t convincing.

[stuffforthestash]

Modern Academic AU pt3

All this because I couldn't stop thinking about what kinds of classes Professor Raphael would teach... He's laughing up at me from hell, I just know it.

part 1 and part 2

------------------------------

Kagha (by request!) - Environmental Science. Will only teach courses about political lobbying and activism. She's also a militant vegan and active member of PETA, and won't shut up about it.

Dammon - College of Engineering. Teaches "Advanced Manufacturing Processes" and "Finite Element Analysis", and runs the machining shop. Also teaches a metal sculpture class when there's room in the Art School's budget. He's one of the faculty liaisons for several LGBTQA+ orgs on campus as well, and is completely oblivious to the fact he has a fan club (which is for the best, really)

Zevlor - Campus Security. A retired Green Beret who refuses to talk about his time in the service, he's well liked by most faculty and known to be a bit of an old school charmer. LOTS of rumors and speculation about what kind of injury got him discharged, and how he got it.

Barcus - College of Engineering. He teaches classes on Thermodynamics and Process Design & Safety. Has no idea how popular and well-liked he is by both students and staff.

Wulbren - Chemical Engineering Dep't Chair. He's brilliant, but also an asshole, and is constantly trying to weasel more grant money for his research into ethically questionable chemical compound modifications. Also makes his TAs teach all his classes for him.

Lorroakan - English Dep't Chair. Thinks he's hot shit for it but really no one else wanted the job. He makes his TAs teach all his classes AND do all his admin work, so he can spend all his time (and the department's money) on schmoozing with alumni and donors.

Blurg - Environmental Science. Isn't that great of a teacher but it's required for keeping the research grants coming in. Thankfully his passion and enthusiasm for topics like Sustainability in Agriculture make up for his shortcomings.

Omeluum - They're actually Bluurg's research partner and not technically a member of faculty, though they also act as his unofficial TA because otherwise Bluurg's course work interferes with their research timelines.

Nine-Fingers Keene (by request) - School of Business. Her classes are all advanced level and titled things like "Gaining The Competitive Edge". She also runs an entrepreneurial outreach program for young women seeking to start their own businesses.

Dame Aylin - VP of Diversity and Inclusion. She's very passionate about her job and a VERY vocal advocate for social justice issues like inclusivity, diversity, and accessibility. Completely incapable of keeping her personal life separate from her professional one, as she's a devout believer in leading by example.

Isobel - School RN. Is fiercely protective of students right to medical privacy and access to judgment free care, but is much better known on campus for being Dame Aylin's wife.

The Emperor - Board of Trustees. Outwardly just an ordinary Trustee, generally pleasant to interact with and actually rather good at rubbing elbows with students, faculty, and admin alike. There's just something off about them, enough that they've had multiple audits and inquests over the years despite nobody ever being able to find any actual signs of misconduct.

------------------------------

Sorry this set took a bit longer to figure out. A bunch of these characters were a real challenge to fit into roles that actually exist in reality, and I had to do a bit of research to find out wtf kinds of classes or departments certain fields of study even have. Ah, the things we do for the blorbos, amirite?

[litas-writings]

Die Edelstein-, Silber- und Vergissmeinnicht Trilogien sind miteinander verbunden (und Wolkenschloss irgendwie auch)

//!\\SPOILER //!\\ Für alle oben genannten Buchreihen!

Das habe ich schon früher immer gedacht, als ich Silber gelesen habe, was ja genau wie Rubinrot in London spielt. Da habe ich mir immer vorgestellt wie Gwendolyn in Tempel durch die Zeit springt, während Liv in Hampstead lustig durch Träume spaziert.

In beiden Roman-Reihen ist nicht so recht klar, wo der magische Teil aka das Zeitreisen und die Traumtüren eigentlich herkommen. Natürlich gibt es den Grafen von St-Germain in der Edelstein-Reihe, der den Chronographen entdeckt und die ganzen Prophezeiungen schreibt. Die Frage ist nur: Warum gibt es überhaupt Zeitreisende? Wo kommt der Chronograph her? Der Graf hat ihn zwar entdeckt aber nicht gebaut! Wo kommt er also her? Woher wusste der Graf dass dieses Teil mit Zeitreisen verbunden ist? Ähnliche Fragen kann man sich auch bei Silber stellen: Warum können Liv und die anderen sich gegenseitig in ihren Träumen besuchen? Die ganzen Rituale stellen sich ja als kompletter Schwachsinn heraus. Nichtdestotrotz gibt es diese Traumtüren und eine Erklärung zu ihrer Existenz bekommen weder die Figuren, noch der Leser.

Und dann kommt Vergissmeinnicht um die Ecke: im ersten Teil gibt es einige Easter-eggs zu Rubinrot und Silber. Zum Beispiel der Wasserspeier Bax der von Matilda mit Xemerius verglichen wird. Oder der Saum, den Menschen nur in ihren Träumen betreten können. Im zweiten Teil wird das alles natürlich eindeutig, mit Professor Cassian, der in London von der Geheimloge der Wächter erzählen möchte, dann aber von Fee unterbrochen wird; oder eben Matilda die mit Bax' Hilfe ihre Traumtür entdeckt und somit in den Saum gelangen kann. Und schon hat man eine Erklärung für die Unerklärten Dinge der zwei früheren Trilogien: Zeitreisende haben einen Ursprung, nämlich aus dem Saum. Beziehungsweise sind sie entfernte Nachkommen von Saumwesen. So erkläre ich es mir jedenfalls. Denn in diesem Fall haben sie keine Lentigos, die in Vergissmeinnicht alle Nachfahren haben. Aber vielleicht haben die Zeitreisenden auch eine Art Lentigo und wissen es nur nicht. Schließlich hat Gwendolyn ein Muttermal in der Form eines Halbmondes unter ihrem linken Auge. Möglicherweise sind die Zeitreisenden mehr Mensch als Saumwesen, weswegen ihre Lentigos sich im laufe der Generationen mehr und mehr zu etwas weniger magischem entwickelt haben d. h. ein etwas ausgefallenes Muttermal. Gut, Gideon scheint kein ausgefallenes Muttermal zu haben, genausowenig wie Lucy und Paul und die anderen Zeitreisenden...

Dennoch ist seit dem zweiten Teil Vergissmeinnicht klar, dass die Zeitreisenden auch dort existieren und dass sie den Saumwesen wie Cassian bekannt sind. Also müssen sie in irgendeiner Weise mit dem Saum verbunden sein. Eine Zufriedenstellende Erklärung kriegt man jedoch für die Traumtüren und Korridore aus Silber, denn man erfährt, dass diese dem Untergrund angehören, welcher ein Teil des Saums ist.

Was Wolkenschloss betrifft, hat dieses Buch deutlich weniger Verbindungen mit den drei anderen Reihen, was größtenteils daran liegt, dass es weniger fantastische Elemente dort gibt. Dennoch gibt es auch dort einige Parallelen, zumindest zu Vergissmeinnicht. Das ganze Hotel scheint seinen eigenen Willen zu haben, denn es hilft und rettet die Protagonistin Fanny an mehreren Stellen. Aber besonders auffällig ist der Concierge des Hotels, Monsieur Rocher, der angeblich nicht älter wird, wenn man dem russischen Oligarchen Viktor Igorov glauben soll. Laut ihm ist er Monsieur Rocher schon als 12-jähriger in diesem Hotel begegnet und dieser scheint seitdem nicht gealtert zu sein. Auch sonst wird Monsieur Rochers Alter nie genannt und Fanny bezeichnet ihn als alterslos. Monsieur Rocher könnte also ein Arkadier aus dem Saum sein, da diese unsterblich sind, was erklären würde warum er nicht älter wird.

Als großer Fan der Edelstein und Silber Reihen habe ich mich sehr gefreut, Anspielungen auf die beiden Trilogien in Vergissmeinnicht zu entdecken. Außerdem habe ich das Gefühl, dass mit Vergissmeinnicht Fragen beantwortet werden, die man sich in den anderen Reihen gestellt hat. Wenn Kerstin Gier also weiterhin Verbindungen zwischen Vergissmeinnicht und den anderen Reihen herstellt und somit womöglich ein einziges Universum erschafft, wird das meiner Meinung nach richtig interressant und ich kann es jetzt schon kaum erwarten den dritten Teil von Vergissmeinnicht zu lesen ^^

[atwas-gaming]

People who complain that Sonic's character is "static" must have never played Unleashed or Black Knight. Or they did, but they didn't understand them.

I think one of the reasons why Unleashed and Black Knight are such fan favorites and stick in our memory so well is because the entire theme of both games is about taking Sonic out of his element, taking away things that he has relied on for so long- speed, jumping, spindashing, boosting, homing attacks- taking all those things away from him, and seeing how he does.

And he still shines. Even without all the abilities that he has relied on throughout his entire life, he still manages to beat the Big Bad.

(Please note that I haven't finished either game yet and I'm just drawing from what I've been spoiled on.)

As the werehog, Sonic is not able to curl into a ball at all (we're ignoring the mobile games for this post), and his greater height and weight, probably due to a larger bone structure, as well as heavier, thicker fur, keeps him from being able to run as fast or jump as high as he's used to. He now how to resort to fighting styles he has never used before, including several forms of martial arts (aided by his Dark Gaia-powered stretch abilities). Perhaps the most unusual of all is how he has to get down on all fours to run.

In addition, Sonic describes his werehog form as "pretty ugly." Sonic thinks of himself as good-looking, and this is a part of his personal identity, which is part of why he was upset that Amy didn't recognize him (no matter what feelings he may or may not have for her). The werehog form also seems to be physically uncomfortable and taxing on Sonic's body due to the heavier weight, as the werehog idle animations include Sonic stretching in an exaggerated way and forcibly rotating his shoulders (motions I, myself, have learned to use after years at a desk job that has ruined my neck and upper back). Sonic's idle animations also include him being jumpy and looking around every few seconds- basically, the werehog never fully relaxes.

All in all, Sonic is very uncomfortable as a werehog, and prefers not to be seen in this form. But the reason why is not fully evident until he thanks Chip for protecting him and keeping him from turning evil. To this, Chip replies, "I haven't done anything, Sonic. You're too strong to lose yourself."

On top of this, Amy doesn't have a problem with Sonic's appearance. She still loves him. Tails also doesn't care what Sonic looks like. Neither does Professor Pickle. Neither does ANYONE. Even if they're startled by the werehog's appearance at first, they all seem to go, "Oh, it's just Sonic. This is just what he's like at night."

The entire story of Unleashed was about Sonic coming to realize that he is not who he is because of what he looks like or how he is built.

Black Knight takes this a step further. In Unleashed, Sonic wasn't able to run, but he was still able to use his body as a weapon. In Black Knight, Sonic can run again, but nowhere near as fast as his normal speed. All of Sonic's abilities to fight with his body are stripped from him, and he is forced to use an actual weapon, instead. And Sonic hates this. He even says it: "I wish I didn't have to use this dang sword!"

Sonic has never used a weapon before in the games (as far as I am aware, anyway). His weapon has always been his own body: his feet, his fists, his whole body via spindash and homing attack. Now he's having to train himself to fight with something outside of his own body. This requires not only the creation of new muscle memory, but also a complete shift in the way his brain processes information to fight. He always has the option to just crumble and say, "I can't do this, it's not what I'm used to, I give up." He never does that. He complains a bit at first, but eventually rises to the occasion and excels at swordfighting.

Please bear in mind that I haven't ever gotten past the King Arthur battle. I presume Sonic is forced to kill him, and then I believe there's another half a game after that. But so far, it seems that Sonic's character arc in Black Knight is about him learning that he is not who he is just because of what he can do.

What makes Sonic Sonic is not what he looks like or what he is able to do, but about who he is inside. Sonic is someone who cares, someone who is strong, someone who doesn't give up, someone who sees a difficult situation and, no matter how much of an inconvenience it may be, turns it around and finds a way through.

[toydrill]

ULTIMATE CBS MASTERPOST

(or, a general hub to answer a few questions that my followers who are here for other things that are not my passion projects might be curious about)

recently i've been really pushing hard into working on this revival project, so i thought it would be helpful to have a nice big post with links to all of my stuff inside it!

"what is care bear stars?"

care bear stars was a 2008-2009 fanime created, drawn, and animated by joshua click (known at the time as jcstars5). here's a general synopsis:

Care Bear Stars follows the story of Terry Rogers, who meets a magical anthropomorphic bear named True Heart Bear. She gives him a magical talisman, and with it, he transforms into Tender Heart Bear. Along with the other Care Bear Stars, they work to protect good feelings and love among humankind and fight the evil Professor Coldheart, alongside a rogues gallery of otherworldly foes.

for those who don't know exactly what a fanime is and what it entails, here's a good definition from TVtropes:

Fanime (a portmanteau of “fan” and “anime”) is a type of Web Animation typically created by young amateur artists that originated on YouTube around 2006, a year after the site's launch. ... In the past, many fanime were animesque cartoons based on pre-existing anime, especially Tokyo Mew Mew and other Magical Girl shows. Tracing was also common. Instead of using animation software, creators would usually draw frames in MS Paint or Photoshop and composite them in Windows Movie Maker. ... As fanime was predominately created by very young artists inexperienced in animation in the beginning, it gained a reputation for being bad. ... Following the mainstream popularity of Nyan~ Neko Sugar Girls, this type of fanime dominated the community for a long time, but creators attempting to create genuine shows still remain and the community has grown increasingly talented and creative throughout the years.

care bear stars was received pretty well for its time for fanime, receiving a decent amount of fanwork and discussions on websites like deviantArt. though it was far from the only fanime at the time with its premise, its generally considered one of the pillars of first generation fanime alongside series like elemental goddess, and stood out for having full TV length episodes (something that was unheard of at the time for fanime).

the project was cancelled in 2009 after the creator received a cease & desist letter from then (now defunct) owners of the care bear stars franchise, cookie jar group.

for a more in depth write up of my knowledge of CBS during its active period, joshua click's thoughts looking back on the series in adulthood, and where many of the VOs in the project are now, you can check out this document i've worked on and off on for 8 years

"why do you gaf?"

autism

i met some really great friends from the fanime community and now i've imprinted on this show in my mind more than any fanime that i'd ever watched

i love care bears

autism again

as a testament to said autism: here's a collection of all the care bears stars fanart i've ever found

"okay so what is care bear stars r?"

exactly what it sounds like. it's just a 1-to-1 remake of the premise, characters, etc with what i could find of the original project + what i would have done if it were me

for an in-depth (but WIP) write up of my revival, CARE BEAR STARS R, you can click here

you can also find all of my art & write-ups here , and all of my friends' fanart here , and all of the references for them here

other resources

my twitter thread that i consistently update

my tumblr tag for posting about care bear stars

the original series in chronological (series) order

thank you so much for reading!

[short-wooloo]

Star Wars saga full of Jewish references and themes. Did you know Yoda was Jewish?

Like so many of you, I am anxiously awaiting the release of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens.

A long time ago in a galaxy far away…1977 actually…we were introduced to this most amazing epic, and appreciation has only grown over the ensuing years. The characters have become embedded in American culture.

For most fans, Star Wars is great entertainment, and it is definitely that…and much more.

The Star Wars series is eclectic. It combines many religious, philosophical and historic themes taken from a wide array of religions, including Zoroastrianism, Taoism, Stoicism, Nihilism, Christianity and also Judaism. A student of any of these religions will find something of their own faith somewhere in Star Wars.

College level classes have been taught on the mythology and symbolism that are so much a part of Star Wars. There is even a book entitled “Star Wars and Philosophy: More Powerful than You Can Possibly Imagine” which is a compilation written by various college professors.

Most prominently, the conflict between “light” and “dark” sides of the Force comes almost directly from Zoroastrianism and their intertwining connection certainly is a reflection of the yin and yang of Taoism. And there is much more.  The strong ethical element to Star Wars bears a direct connection to various ideals of Buddhism and Stoicism.

The virtues the Jedi shares with the Stoic sages are patience, commitment, seriousness, calm, caution, benevolence, and, of course, wisdom. Given all these virtues, Yoda is what the ancient Stoics described as the sage, the ideal person who has perfected reason and achieved complete wisdom. Speaking of Yoda, students of Hebrew will recognize several choices of names in the films as having Hebrew roots. Yoda most obviously comes from the Hebrew word Yodea, meaning one with knowledge.

Both Judaism and Christianity are reflected in Star Wars, philosophically and historically. Particularly concerning the depiction of the eternal conflict between good and evil, students of Judaism will recognize the yetzer ha-tov vs. the yetzer ha-ra, the opposing human inclinations present in every person. There may even be a connection to the Dead Sea Scrolls, one of which is entitled “The War of the Sons of Light Against the Sons of Darkness.”

The struggle between good and evil in Star Wars seems closer to the Christian concept where good and evil are competing and independent powers battling over the domain of creation. Judaism, of course, sees everything as emanating from a single Creator. This includes evil that has no independent will of its own to oppose God, but is also under God’s domain, as is portrayed in the Book of Job.

Judaism teaches that the source of Light and Darkness are One and the same, as it says in the prayer book: “Blessed art You, Eternal One, our God, Ruler of the Universe, Who forms light and creates darkness, Who makes peace and creates all things.” The source for this line of liturgy can be found in the Hebrew Bible, Isaiah 45:7: “Who forms light and creates darkness, Who makes peace and creates evil; I am the Eternal One, Who makes all these.”

The ever-present and overarching theme of Star Wars is that of the Force that endows these films with their undeniable spiritual orientation. The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It binds the galaxy together.

Call it what you like; it sounds like God to me.

The expression “May the Force be with you” is emblematic of the Star Wars legacy. This line is invoked by at least one character in each of the Star Wars movies. To those familiar with the Catholic Mass, these words seem to directly reflect Dominus vobiscum, the Latin phrase meaning “The Lord be with you” – the ancient salutation and blessing traditionally used by the clergy in the Roman Catholic Mass, and several other Christian denominations.

In other ways, the Force has taken on Christian overtones. In “The Phantom Menace,” Anakin Skywalker (Darth Vader as a boy) is supposedly the result of a virgin birth.

And there are suggestions of Messianism as well. The idea of a foretold “Chosen One” who would restore balance to the Force is a theme running throughout the Star Wars films.

I do not believe that George Lucas set out to create a science fiction universe intended specifically to reflect Jewish history. Nevertheless, the allusions are apparent to Jews.  Darth Vader and company are Nazis and Storm Troopers – the embodiment of all that is evil and destructive.

Since it is Chanukah, I should add that the heroes of Star Wars, the members of a “rebel alliance,” are the few against the many. They could be the Maccabees in outer space, the small band of determined fighters who struggled against the overwhelming power of the Greek Syrians, or they could be the partisans and defenders of the Warsaw Ghetto who did all that they could to resist the Nazis.

This brief essay actually is only scratching the surface. Stars Wars is so much more than science fiction. On so many levels, it is a serious endeavor dealing with universal human concerns that are confronted by all of the world’s religions. Its universalistic moral themes, as much as its originality and cinematic genius, are what endows Star Wars with timeless value.

[eternaltae7]

Hani (Fox)

BTS 8th Member

Background:

~Full Name: Hani O’Riordan (한이 오리오던)

~Stage Name: Fox

~Birthday: June 22, 1998

~Nationality: Irish-Korean

~Birthplace: Ireland

~Moved to Korea: When she was a baby, so she has spent most of her life in Korea.

~Family:

•Younger Brother: Currently attending college in America.

•Father: A professor.

•Mother: An artist who teaches art, specializing in painting and pottery.

~Languages: Fluent in Korean and English, with a soft Irish lilt when she speaks English.

~Heritage: Celebrates both Irish and Korean cultures, combining traditional Irish melodies with K-pop rhythms.

~Role in BTS: vocalist, dancer, and song writer

Personality:

~Creative and Playful: Loves to incorporate her Irish heritage into her music and performances.

~Intelligent and Strategic: Known for her quick wit and being a strategic thinker in games or challenges.

~Calm Under Pressure: Provides a grounding energy during intense rehearsals or tight schedules.

~Loyal and Protective: Fiercely protective of her BTS family.

~Warm and Mysterious: While she may initially appear reserved, she is deeply caring and supportive.

Appearance:

~Height: 167 cm (5’6”)

~Hair: Auburn, often styled in soft waves, giving her a striking, unique look that complements her Irish-Korean heritage.

~Eyes: Hazel-green, reflecting her Irish heritage.

~Style: Unique mix of modern and traditional Korean and Irish elements in her outfits.

~Stage Presence: Known for her captivating, mysterious stage persona with a sharp, intense gaze.

Talents:

~Singing: Rich, soulful voice with a slight rasp.

~Rapping: Occasionally delivers precise, impactful rap lines.

~Dancing: Known for her fluid, graceful dance style with flexibility and power. Grew up learning ballet.

~Instruments: Plays the piano.

~Songwriting: Incorporates personal experiences and cultural influences in her lyrics.

~Artistry: Influenced by her mother, Hani has an eye for visual aesthetics, and she enjoys painting and pottery in her spare time.

Quick Facts:

~Nicknames: “Fire Fox,” “Han”

~Favorite BTS Song: “Spring Day.”

~Hobbies: Hiking, painting (even though she’s not good), reading, and occasionally helping her mom with pottery.

~Favorite Food: Jjajangmyeon and Irish stew.

~Signature Move: Her “fox smile,” a mischievous grin she uses to tease the members.

~Fan Interaction: Engages with international ARMYs in both English and Korean during livestreams.

Relationships with Other Members:

~Namjoon: Intellectual conversations about books and philosophy.

~Jin: Shares a love for food and cooking, often talking about opening a restaurant together.

~Yoongi: Spends long hours in the studio with Yoongi, discussing deep topics.

~Hoseok: Her calm balances his bright energy.

~Jimin: Playful banter and intense dance rehearsals.

~Taehyung: Artistic collaborations and shared creative interests.

~Jungkook: They have a playful, competitive dynamic, frequently challenging each other in games and athletic activities. Jungkook is protective of her but enjoys teasing her since she’s the youngest.

Stage Persona:

On stage, Fox is enchanting and mysterious, with fluid movements and captivating eyes that draw the audience in. She brings an emotional depth to her performances, often weaving in her cultural influences.

———————————————————————————

#bts #bts8thmember #foxofbts #btsimagine #btsscenarios #kpop #RM #Namjoon #Suga #yoongi #jhope #hoseok #seokjin #jin #jungkook #v #taehyung #jimin #bangtan

[take-the-hidden-paths]

HIDDEN PATHS: A Celebration of the Smaller Tolkien Canons

Hello, and welcome to Hidden Paths, a fortnight-long event dedicated to the celebration of smaller Tolkien canons!

We all know and love the tales of Tolkien's Middle-earth, but the Professor's creative and academic endeavours didn't stop there.  However, fanworks for smaller Tolkien canons (such as Farmer Giles of Ham, Mr. Bliss, Leaf by Niggle and more) are much rarer than works inspired by their Middle-earth counterparts.  This event was created to be a low-pressure, low-commitment opportunity to explore those lesser known works, and create and share fanworks based on them.

Define “smaller Tolkien fandoms”. 

Basically, any Tolkien canon or text (including academic works and translations) that is not explicitly set in Middle-earth and is not based on The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or The Silmarillion and closely related histories.  This includes, but is not limited to:

Beowulf/Sellic Spell

Farmer Giles of Ham

The Fall of Arthur

The Father Christmas Letters

Finn and Hengest

The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm's Son

The Lay of Aotrou and Itroun

Leaf by Niggle

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

Mr. Bliss

Mythopoeia

The Notion Club Papers

Pearl

Roverandom

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Sir Orfeo

Songs for the Philologists

Smith of Wootton Major

The Story of Kullervo

Tolkien (2019 film)

Tolkien's essays, poems, letters and non-ME artwork

We also accept fanworks based on The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (because it collects a number of poems that were not originally intended as part of the Middle-earth canon) and The Book of Lost Tales (because it differs so significantly from later versions of the legendarium), and/or centring characters or concepts that only appear in extremely early drafts of The Lord of the Rings (e.g. Trotter).  

We know that this leaves a bit of a grey area, but ultimately, we will trust and accept the judgement of fanwork creators.  Act in good faith, and assume that others have done the same. 

How does it work? 

At the start of the event (14th February) the mod will post seven optional prompts to inspire you.  There will be a thematic prompt, a character-based prompt, a setting-based prompt, a text prompt, a visual prompt, an audio prompt, and a wildcard prompt.  A second batch of prompts will be posted on the 21st. 

If you like the prompts, then use any or all of them to create and share a fanwork based on one or more small Tolkien canons.  If they don't speak to you, then please feel free to do your own thing – the prompts are there to spark creativity, not impede it! 

What types of fanworks do you accept? 

Anything you like.  Fic, poetry, meta, art, edits, vids, podfic, craft, cosplay, rec lists, playlists, compositions, interviews with fellow fans...it's all good. 

Are there any minimum requirements? 

No, none.  Want to write a six-word story?  Be our guest. 

Are crossovers permitted? 

Yes!  We accept crossovers with the Middle-earth canons, and with non-Tolkien fandoms.  We only ask that one of the smaller Tolkien canons plays a significant role in your fanwork. 

What do you consider a significant role? 

We don't.  The event is intended to be low commitment and low stress for both participants and the moderator, and we trust that people will act in good faith.  We are not going to police fanworks or apply an arbitrary definition of “significant” - we leave that up to the creator to decide. 

Does actor RPF count? 

For the purposes of this event, no it doesn't, unless you are also drawing on elements from a smaller canon (e.g. Liv Tyler encountering the Shadow-Bride).

Where do I post my fanworks? 

We have an AO3 collection, but you may post your fanworks anywhere you like.  We'd appreciate a link back to our Dreamwidth or Tumblr page, though, to spread the word about the event! 

Are there any restrictions on rating or content? 

Nope.  Tag and warn appropriately, as you normally would, but make whatever your heart desires. 

Can I post fanworks that were inspired by or created for another event, or created prior to the event's inception? 

Yes!  The goal is to celebrate and increase content for the smaller Tolkien fandoms.  Please feel free to share your creations and add them to the collection, regardless of whether they were created specifically for this event. 

I want to take part but I don't know anything about the smaller canons.  Help!?

Tolkien Gateway has helpfully collated a list of Tolkien's writings, and some of the articles reproduce or link to the actual text.  This is a great place to start browsing, and to find out more about a text before you invest in your own copy.

Have a look at fanworks for some of the smaller canons and see what appeals.  Innumerable Stars and TRSB both have several works for the smaller canons in their collections, and many of them can be understood with no prior knowledge of the source material.

Lists of characters appearing in the various texts and canons can also be a useful jumping off point - like this one for The Book of Lost Tales.

Many of the smaller canons are just that - small!  If you can get hold of a copy from your local library, book store or from a fellow fan, they are generally quick to read and digest.

If anyone has any other ideas and resources for folks wanting to dip a toe into the smaller canons, please get in touch so they can be added to this list. 

When does the event run? 

Officially, February 14th-28th.  Unofficially, as long as you like; the prompts will stay up and the AO3 collection won't close.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "A Story Told at Last"

This short three shot was my first offering for the second @cssns event in 2019. I had a really lovely time using a more grown up version of Henry out in the "real" world, as well as keeping Violet (who I always liked) in the picture. I got to use my love of literature a bit in this one, making it Henry's profession, and I took my first early stab at a ghost story element for the supernatural. I think the main thing to bear in mind is that, while Henry is our Henry in personality, he is not Emma's son. Emma and Killian exist in a whole other time - the one he is studying... ;)

If you missed this one originally, I hope you will enjoy this offering. And if you did read it before, I'd love to hear if you enjoy your revisit!

Thanks once again to @branlovestowrite who did the cover art at the time for the event - I still simply adore it!!!

{Also available on AO3, if that's your preference

I've put all 3 parts in this post for reader convenience}

Summary: Historical Literature Professor Henry Mills has the chance of a lifetime before him. He might finally uncover the truth of a folktale that has intrigued him for years. But, when the whole story comes to light, will he be able to accept the story that needs to be told?

~Prologue~

The young man moved quietly through dusky shadows in the long-abandoned building, brushing aside cobwebs with a grimace of distaste, his flashlight trained well in front of him, and walking with slow care, trying valiantly not to disturb anything more than necessary in his path. Henry Mills was still holding his breath more than a bit in awe that he had finally been allowed the permits and permissions, not to speak of the grant money which had brought him here and allowed him to focus solely on his research, and that he was standing within the deserted tower ruins of a long vanished kingdom’s outer borders. He had dreamed of seeing this structure’s remains since the legend had first crossed his desk, unfounded but also unforgettable until he explored it for himself. Drawing in another steadying breath and squaring his shoulders, Henry moved forward once again, anxious to see all that he could before he lost the last bit of evening sun.

He would be back tomorrow of course, with his team and full daylight, and all the equipment needed to properly identify, catalogue, and preserve anything of historical value or interest they might find. Still, he couldn’t resist the chance to get a first look at this place that had held his curiosity for so long, especially when he only had to share it with frogs, cicadas, and the droning gnats. Soon enough this site would be buzzing with other historians, researchers, and anyone else on the approved team, and Henry yearned for a moment on hallowed ground, beneath the crumbling walls and mouldering ceiling, in the dreamy half-dark when it could be his alone. He didn’t know what treasures they might find, or if they would unearth anything new at all, but the storyteller’s heart that beat beneath his grey henley and respectable historian’s facade couldn’t help sensing that the very walls around him were holding their breath as much as he was, anxiously awaiting the right explorer to at last reveal their secrets.

Regardless of the venture’s outcome, Henry still found it hard to believe he was in Italy; seeing the world, traveling on his own quest for knowledge and adventure, just as he had always known he was meant to do. He was still considered quite young for a history professor, and this would be the first field mission he had led. Granted, to most folks who weren’t history buffs or fans of Renaissance literature and its roots, the remains of the stone structure around him that they would catalogue and examine in the next week would not have been delighted enough to go without sleep just dreaming of the treasures and tales they might find, but Henry Mills had never been one to do as most others would.

The particular result he hoped to achieve was to find some sign or proof of the princess Emmaline, the protagonist of that tale which had sparked his interest nearly four years ago. History had at least partially buried her existence, or much knowledge of her beyond the ranks of myth and legend. But, if what Henry had learned was true, she had once been imprisoned by the same walls he was standing within. A younger sibling had ascended the throne in her place, and Emmaline had disappeared from all records of the kingdom which had eventually become extinct itself.

The story Henry had uncovered told of strange happenings beginning to occur around the beautiful golden daughter of King David and Queen Margaret of Misthavia once the young princess reached her sixteenth year. Injuries to those who might have slighted her, accidents and damages - coincidences all, but their frequency had reached the point that her involvement could no longer be hidden, and her people had begun to fear her. It seemed that Princess Emmaline had even been deemed a witch by some, and at last the king and queen had been forced to hide their daughter away for her own safety.

There had also been - at least as related in several varied sources - a handsome young lieutenant in the Misthavian royal navy who had long been in love with the hidden princess. This young sailor had vehemently protested the decision to lock Emmaline away, much less the eventual denial of her birthright. So the story had gone, this lieutenant had eventually left the king and queen’s service due to the rift, and as incongruous as it sounded, turned pirate in her honor, as he left with a ship to seek her in exile and rescue his love.

Still, by any account Henry had been able to locate, whatever had truly happened, if Princess Emmaline had existed at all, she had never taken the throne of her kingdom. The rather tiny Misthavia, along the Tyrrhenian Sea had been subsumed into the rest of the larger country and ceased to be a separate entity in the modern world. To his scholarly, and curious, mind however, what became of the lost princess, hidden in her tower, remained an irresistible mystery.

For the moment he was not willing to risk discovery and be banned from the site before his official work even began, so Henry did not linger. He closed his eyes, breathing in the somewhat musty air that somehow, to his mind, also brought hints of spring rain, apple blossoms, weathered wooden planks, leather and sea salt. Shaking his head at his own ridiculously detailed imagination - now bringing him scents even, as well as hoped for sights and stories - Henry turned to carefully make his way back out of the rocky rumble, avoiding an overturned settee frame with bits of ripped upholstery clinging to it and a few floorboards, whose soundness appeared debatable. Watching where he was placing his feet and the path back to the entrance in the beam of his flashlight, he failed to notice that materializing behind him, wispy white and hazy against the deepening gloom within the old walls, two shadows, almost corporeal but not quite, were silently watching him go…

~***~

~Part One~

By the time Henry had returned to the Universitá di Bologna housing,where he and his team of advanced grad students were staying for the duration of their research trip in Italy, he was more than a bit anxious to reach his temporary quarters and go back through the copious research notes he had taken and goals he’d laid out in preparation before finally standing within the crumbling skeleton of his historical site - what remained of the once-stunning tower. Having now glimpsed it with his own eyes in the still shadows and dying light of evening, Henry was almost breathless with excitement and the desire to compare what he had seen with the numerous possible finds he had deemed likely. Already, he was itching to return at dawn’s first light with his team and equipment.

The heavy feeling in the air of another presence - of not being alone in the ruins, though his logical mind knew he must have been - had been easily shaken off once he returned to the city from the more remote location. The sound and bustle of the modern world - phones, cars, the press of crowds - melted away the icy shiver that had traced down his spine and put it well out of his thoughts. For several minutes now (nearer to three hours in point of fact, though his mind, caught up in more interesting details, had lost all track of time) he had been leafing through his reference manuals, maps and notes, packed and then unpacked again meticulously upon arrival, when a soft rapping on his door roused him from the fevered state he’d slipped into.

Shaking his head, and hazily pulling himself back into the present time and place, Henry drew a steadying breath, reminding himself that he was a skilled and credentialed professor of historical literature, not the teenage fanboy he’d once been and currently felt like again; he should show a bit more composure to whomever waited to speak with him in the hall. Opening the door, however, his eyes widened momentarily, in spite of his recent resolve, to find his brightest and most accomplished research assistant facing him.

Violet Clemens had actually graduated from the university’s history program two years before, but knowing the particular interest she would have in this research opportunity, Henry had contacted the museum he knew she now worked with when there had been spots left to fill in their group. Violet, with her pale, dewy complexion and ebony hair shining as it rested on her shoulders, not to mention her effortlessly elegant and tasteful way of dressing and carrying herself in a sea of her contemporaries wearing shirts cut so low and pants and skirts so tight that they left little to the imagination, had always stood out and seemed a bit of an old soul out of her time. Despite her keen intellect and quick wit, Henry had always been glad her degree focus leaned more toward historical art and architecture rather than his historical literature. While her complimentary knowledge would serve well in this venture to supplement his own, he had at the time feared becoming completely charmed by her if he’d had her in class on a regular basis.

Trying to shake all those thoughts from his frazzled and rather unfocused mind, Henry gave her a curious but friendly smile before speaking. “Miss Clemens, what can I do for you this evening?”

Violet flushed prettily, her cheeks pinking as her gaze fell to her toes for a moment before glancing back up to meet his. “I’m sorry, Professor Mills. I know it’s late. I was just wondering...I mean…” she finally blurted the rest out in a rush “...you went out to see it already, didn’t you? What was it like?”

Henry truly couldn’t hold back his wide grin at her question. Another person who held the same enthusiasm for the princess and the ruin of her family’s legacy, was not someone he came across often, and a part of him basked in having someone to share the thrill with - someone who just might understand. “You’re not a student anymore,” he offered with a self-deprecating chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Professor. But, to answer your question, yes I’ve been out there and it was incredible. Even with the light failing, it took my breath away.”

Violet merely nodded, taking his words in with an awed smile on her lips. “Oh, I can’t wait to see it for myself,” she murmured. Then a twinkle of mischief flitted into her eyes as she added, “but if you no longer want me to call you Professor, then you’d better just call me Violet.”

“Deal,” Henry affirmed, reaching out a hand which she took to shake on their agreement. The moment their hands were clasped together, a tremor of awareness caught him off guard, running up his arm with a heat and intensity that surprised him. Though he’d heard of such reactions to another many times in the books he’d read and stories he loved, he had never experienced anything so arresting in real life.

“Well, then, Henry,” Violet added, taking her hand back, though he didn’t think he was imagining the sudden breathiness of her voice and the way she shook her head as if to refocus, causing her dark waves of hair to shimmer. “I guess I should leave you in peace for now. We want to get an early start tomorrow after all.”

“That we do,” Henry agreed, seeing her to the door and hoping he wasn’t smiling wide enough to make him look giddy. Once she was gone, he leaned back against the solid oak, shaking his head in disbelief.  It would seem this adventure was going to bring about more than one incredible discovery.

~~~~~~~~~~~***~

The next morning dawned all too early for Henry’s taste; his alarm waking him from such a solid sleep that for a full minute he was too bleary to remember where he was at all. Between the jet lag and staying up another two hours pouring over notes and manuscripts to be certain he was prepared for their first day cataloguing finds onsite, he wasn’t sure he would even be able to pry his eyes open without coffee. It was almost funny to think back now on the days when he used to laugh at his mom and stepdad for their need to have a hot chocolate and black coffee respectively before they could face their days. He understood all too well as an adult.

Once he got himself moving, saw himself down to the continental breakfast provided on the first floor, and was waiting at the van to make sure all his assistants and fellow scholars were on time for the ride out, Henry did begin to feel more awake and alive. It wasn’t long before their small group had gathered, all had been accounted for, and they were loading onto the van. Rolling out of the city proper and into the Italian countryside, Henry began to lay out his game plan for the day, and the rest of his lethargy was swept back by excitement and purpose. 

When they reached the ruins, gathered the tools, instructions, and research which would guide them, they all stood a bit awed, gazing up at the remnants of the tower walls before them, quite possibly full of clues to be discovered. His travel mug providing a further jolt of caffeine as he took a last sip, he then stepped forward to begin directing the tasks to various assistants.  Those with him moved out with care through the ancient, crumbling bricks and mortar, leftovers from an exiled life, off in the directions he had indicated. Undeniably, her felt more than a bit of pride wash over him at the gravity and industry his little group displayed in tackling their assignments. The members of his team were clearly well-chosen.

He wasn’t, however, too selfless to have left one particular team member for last, to work with him one-on-one. Henry firmly fought down the urge to fidget with the hem of his shirt or stutter nervously as Violet edged closer to his side once they stood relatively alone. Her eyes were shining as they drank in the sight before her, more than a bit stunned and affected if her hushed voice was any way to judge. “It’s… splendid…” she nearly whispered, clearly struggling for the right words.

Henry nodded wordlessly, then turned to explain what he hoped to get her help with, just as Violet looked up to him and they bumped into each other awkwardly, both stumbling away a step and chuckling. His hand darted out to catch her elbow, not wanting to knock her to the ground, and Violet wavered closer at the touch unconsciously.

“Oh, Profess - Henry… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

He waved her off gently, “No apology needed. I bumped into you just as much… Vi...olet…” His tongue tangled on her given name as if he were still thirteen and worried about it squeaking. “I mean, there’s no harm done. As long as you’re alright?”

The young curator flushed prettily and nodded with her reassurance of “Absolutely, I’m fine. What did you intend for the two of us to work on?” She was clearly anxious to shed her embarrassment - and to explore this place they both had fallen in love with before even reaching, but for a moment Henry was stymied. He couldn’t speak or think, so struck was he by the intelligence and enthusiasm shining in her eyes and the classical beauty of her face. He wondered helplessly how visitors to her workplace could appreciate any of the art hanging on its walls with Violet standing before them.

Her light touch on his forearm finally brought him back to the moment as she asked again, “Henry? Was there someplace in particular you wanted to start?” Even as those curious words escaped her, Violet’s chocolate-y brown eyes widened noticeably, this time unmistakably also feeling the same jolt of electricity that ran along Henry’s skin where her fingers touched.

Valiantly seeking to ignore the attraction fighting for his attention, Henry redirected his focus to the curious detail he had noticed the evening before, leading his partner toward what still stood of the column that had once been part of the support to a vaulted ceiling. It seemed obvious to him, again if the details of the legend he had heard were true, that this tower had once been an incredibly lovely haven - even if to its inhabitant it had proved a gilded cage. Which was why an oddity in the surface had caught his attention upon first look. There appeared to be a spot where the join between the two sides of the arch didn’t match up - a strange and careless anomaly in a building that otherwise had the look of careful and exquisite design in the other parts that remained.

Pointing up to the spot he had seen, Henry directed Violet’s eyes to the same strange seam that he had noticed. Hearing Violet’s surprised little intake of breath and the way she immediately stepped forward, tracing careful fingers along the obvious malformation in curiosity, told Henry he had indeed been onto something. Soon Violet nodded to herself, drawing closer yet, both hands now up to help in her exploration, and seemingly forgetting Henry, the bustling site, and everyone else around in her rapt focus. 

“Often times,” she murmured lowly without looking away from the movement of her fingers on the old stone, now gingerly but determinedly probing and prying, “in buildings of this age - especially ones which would have belonged to families of importance - an inconsistency like this might often indicate…” she paused for a moment, wedging her finger into the impossibly small opening she had managed to pry, the very tip of her tongue peeking from between her lips in concentration adorably (to Henry’s mind at least).

“Ah ha!” she exclaimed in a breath of triumph, the arch giving enough for what appeared a hidden panel to fall open and a still dully glistening bronze object to fall into her open palms. “As I was saying,” she continued proudly, “might indicate a hidden compartment for items of value.”

Beaming with excitement, Violet held her prize up for Henry’s inspection. In her hands lay an ornate, yet solidly constructed compass on a chain. The piece appeared to have some definite age on it, and yet its quality and beauty still shone through. It looked like an instrument which would have been used for ship navigation on sea voyages prior to the advent of modern navigational systems, and Henry’s thoughts could not keep from flying to the princess’ lieutenant of the stories and tales. Might this artifact serve as his first major proof of the legend that had captured his imagination?

His gaze lifted from the compass to meet Violet’s expectant one, ready to speak his hopes. But, even as he did so, the sound (or so he could only imagine) of a sword at someone’s hip as they moved and the creak of leather arrested Henry’s ear. He turned, startled, at such an incongruous noise for a research site, only to find that no one stood anywhere near he and Violet, as if the sound had come from nowhere beyond his own imagination.

Uncertain eyes flew to his companion, who looked back at him in concern, but Henry forced himself to swallow the strange impression he’d had, sure he would sound crazy if he brought up what he’d heard. Instead, they wrapped and catalogued their find properly for transport back with them, talking about what it could mean… and to whom they both had to wonder if it might once have belonged.  Even in the elation of success and discovery, the feeling of lingering over his shoulder did not leave Henry easily, staying with him for the rest of the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~***~

That evening after dinner, once more in his quarters for the night, Henry’s thoughts were still on the compass as he plunged back into his accounts and stories, all the information on the Princess and her legend, and though he had mostly committed to memory all that was before him, he still pored over the details in hopes of a mention of the compass they had found in order to confirm his suspicions.

As the team leader, items discovered and picked for transport or further research had been logged and stored with him. And though Henry attempted to reason the need away, tried to convince himself that there were no details he had missed, nothing else to see, and that he needed to go to bed, to not spend another night with too little sleep, and instead be rested and well-prepared for the next day’s work, he was still impelled to stand and go over to take out the compass once more; the need would not be denied.

Once the instrument was cradled in his hands, the weight of it steadying to a surprising degree, Henry sunk down on the side of his bed, scrutinizing the relic with focused curiosity. What was he still missing?  Several deep breaths, a few pounding heartbeats, went by as he pondered the instinct guiding him.

Then, with a disconcerting effect that shook him and sent a tremor down his spine, the air around him seemed to waver, undulating dizzily and clouding the borrowed room before his very eyes. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Henry blinked, in hopes of clearing his sight, only to find his perception unchanged as they opened again. The lightheadedness forced Henry to lie back on his pillow, a rather clouded grey beginning to close in on his awareness, vision tunneling to his fingers still clutching the compass tightly - until it was all he could see.

His eyes closed, as surely as if he had been suddenly put to sleep, and then he felt as though he were floating, moving through space even as he knew he was lying still. And then, though he couldn’t fathom how, he stood in the tower of his dreams - whole and shining new as it had not been for some hundreds of years - unseen and right next to a stunning, golden-haired woman who could only be Princess Emmaline…

“Killian, go! You must be away from here before they come with my evening meal,” her voice is quick and urgent as she tries to push him toward the window of her cell, through which he had climbed not even an hour before. “If they catch you, you’ll be arrested. You’re wanted for piracy.”

The dark haired young man, lean and strong, despite appearing more long haired and less neat than he had as a royal navy lieutenant stands firm, well-muscled enough from days spent steering a ship through wind and rain and all other obstacles besides, impossible for her to move unless he allows it. He has waited too long to see her again, and he is not anxious to relinquish the sight of her beautiful face now that it has been restored to him.

“Easy, lass, easy,” he soothes, looking for all the world as if soldiers and guards, arrest and punishment, holds little concern for him.  In truth, he would face those and more as well for her sake, but he has also changed much in the months since his flight from royal service. He is a captain now, not the uncertain, eager-to-please junior officer he had been. Now he gives the orders, his crew (those loyal few who’d followed him into exile) follow his lead and go where he sees fit. “I’ve plenty of time yet… and...I wish to spend every second that I can with you.”

Only here, when addressing his true feelings for his princess, his first and only love, does he show a moment’s hesitance and a lingering sign of the shy young man he once was. Truthfully, he does not know whether or not there is a price on his head, or if he is being sought after diligently; Emmaline’s parents themselves did not agree with the steps taken to hide their daughter away. Whether they truly view him as a dangerous criminal to be apprehended, or more of a rebel with the freedom to act where they could not, Killian Jones is not sure. The King and Queen are constrained by duty to all of their people, where he is loyal first and foremost to his Princess above all others.

Unfortunately, their time is drawing to a close. He can hear the muffled tread of booted feet hurrying up the winding staircase, and knows that soon those who stand guard over Emmaline’s safety, but also make sure she remains in her prison, will reach her room. Much as he loathes leaving her behind again, he knows she is right. He dares not remain and have to fight people who are on the same side, compatriots in service of Misthavia, even if they interpret their orders much differently than he.

Turning to her once more, taking Emmaline’s hands in his, and gazing into her wide, green eyes and her tense face full of worry for him, Killian voices the question he has asked every time he steals back to her side in this long year past. “Come with me. You don’t have to stay locked away here. We could sail the world and be free.” It kills for her to be trapped and alone, paler with each visit he manages, dark purple bruises from sleepness beneath her eyes. Though he knows what her answer will be before he finishes speaking, Killian still has to ask.

His brave, bright angel shakes her head, yellow-gold hair flying around her like a halo, even as a slow tear makes its slow trek down her cheek. “You know I can’t, Killian. My place, my destiny, is here. Though my people fear me now, they need me… My parents need me… I can’t desert them.”

Much as he regrets it, Killian knows her honor will allow her no less. Sadly, he bows his head over their joined hands to kiss the back of hers, murmuring, “As you wish, my Love,” against her skin. Before he turns to climb into the window frame and grab the rope he had used to climb once more, he presss an object into her grasp - the compass he had received upon his naval promotion to lieutenant. “Hold onto this for me at least, aye?  As promise of my return.”

His Emmaline nods tearfully, letting him go and stepping back, but pressing the compass to her breast. “You always return, Killian,” she replies. “I know that.” 

His blue eyes brighten the smallest bit at her faith in him, allowing them both to hold onto hope. “And I always will,” he vows. Then he grasps the rope, swings from the window, and is gone.

~ Part Two ~

Henry came back to himself the next morning to the sound of anxious pounding on the door of his room. Sitting up slowly, blinking and struggling to regain his bearings, he began to hurry toward the sounds only when he also heard Violet’s worried voice through the wooden barrier, calling out with concern for him.

“Henry? Henry, are you in there?” Several more sharp raps against the hard surface followed, just before he could reach the doorknob in his befuddled state. “We got worried when you weren’t downstairs to meet the bus, Profess - “ Her words cut off abruptly as Henry finally managed to turn the knob and swing the door open to face her.

While he hadn’t really considered the rumpled mess of a picture he must present, the way Violet’s mouth fell open in surprise, and how her hand reached out as if to either feel his forehead or offer him support somehow before quickly pulling back, said quite a lot. Her prettily rosy cheeks paled as she stuttered anxiously, “H-Henry...are you alright?”

Feeling more than a bit awkward and embarrassed standing before her in the previous day’s clothing and obviously late for the group’s scheduled departure time, Henry shuffled from foot to foot before clearing his throat and attempting to smooth his sleep-disheveled hair back into lying calmly on his head. Violet, as was her way, looked impeccably neat and professional in sturdy khakis and a pale lavender sleeveless shirt that he knew must have a matching cardigan or jacket somewhere in her suitcase. She didn’t look judgemental in the least though, only concerned for him, despite his growing embarrassment. 

“I’ll be fine, just a little off balance,” he offered uncertainly, already reaching behind him to begin shoving necessary items into the satchel he carried with him on their excursions. “Would you just, please, make my apologies to the others, and our driver? Ask them to give me five more minutes, and I’ll be right down.”

He was scrambling by then, to find his shoes, locate his keys, and get dressed almost all at once, so that he didn’t realize Violet had not left yet after agreeing to his request. She had instead taken a step forward into his room, one more question of if he was really alright on the tip of her tongue when he whipped off his old T-shirt, ready to pull on the clean one he’d found.

Her startled gasp arrested him in the midst of raising his arms to pull the new shirt over his head, turning wide-eyed to face her and already flushing red in his cheeks and well down his neck and chest. Slowly lowering his arms, and the material down to cover his bare torso as well, he couldn’t dismiss the hopeful idea that Violet seemed unable to stop staring at his chest, even once again clothed in one of his usual tops, and that she was swaying just the slightest bit toward him, as if drawn by a magnet.

The odd moment broke at last when Henry stepped forward, just as Violet did the same, and they nearly collided. Both jerked away again, Henry already apologizing and bringing a hand to his stinging chin, even as Violet rubbed her forehead where they had made sharp contact.

“It’s alright, Henry. Truly. It’s fine,” she assured softly, reaching out to clasp his wrist with gentle pressure and calm his rapid flow of words.

Her former professor’s deep brown eyes raised to search hers hopefully, clearly easing as she nodded in added confirmation. “Honestly,” she added with a small smile, patting his arm before releasing her hold. “I’m really just glad to see that you’re okay.”

Catching her hand before she could retract the soft, delicate fingers completely, he squeezed back with gentle gratitude. Shaking his head ruefully, Henry let out a low chuckle and confessed to her honestly. “Alright might be a bit of a stretch, really. In fact, you may think I’m downright insane when I tell you what’s happened, Vi. But, let me get ready before we make everyone else even later, and I’ll share on the way.”

She nodded, stepping back to go so he could change and be ready to leave for the site as soon as possible. Yet, before she slipped back out the door, with one last promise she added, “Whatever you say, Henry. But, just know this… whatever it is that’s going on...I doubt I’ll think you’re crazy. I believe in you.”

Henry’s breath stalled at her admission, and he turned toward her to thank her, to express a similar faith, but Violet had already fled the room. There was nothing else he could do but hurry to rejoin her; her words and his excitement at his vision too, driving him onward so as not to disappoint her galvanizing confidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~

By the time their bus had reached the crumbling remains of Emmaline’s tower once more, Henry had told Violet all he’d seen and heard in his vision. To his utter astonishment, though wide-eyed and stunned, she had taken every word as truth and believed him. 

Once they were at the ruins, she still seemed a bit overcome - Henry couldn’t say that he blamed her, as he was more than a little disbelieving himself - but they piled out of the van as everyone else did, perhaps even more anxious to know what else they might learn or see after his midnight vision. Violet did, however, turn back to look at him once they were both on solid ground, a light touch to his upper arm to convey her concern as she whispered low enough that the others bustling around them couldn’t hear. “You’re sure, that you’re alright to be out here, aren’t you, Henry? I mean… you aren’t disoriented or lightheaded or anything like that?”

Even if he were, there was no way that Henry Mills was letting his last day in this scenic escape, this place of legend at which he had worked and scrimped and saved to arrive, be lost to a weird dream or a strange bout of vertigo, whatever it was that had come over him. He was careful of course not to seem impatient with Violet though; her care for him touched him greatly, warming and thrilling him inside much more than he would like to admit. Instead, he merely shook his head slightly, hoping to assuage her worries by appearing unfazed and moving forward with this last day’s exploration of their site. “Thanks, truly. I appreciate you checking,” he offered, “but I’m fine - no lingering side effects.”

As he spoke, they neared the last vestiges of the archway where they had discovered the compass the day before. Henry could tell that Violet ached to explore further, to make sure there was nothing else of note, to study the intricacies of design and execution that were more to her interests than his, but that she was equally reluctant to leave him after the strange stupor in which she had found him just a short time ago.

Good naturedly smirking at his own odd behavior, Henry urged her to see to what she wished. “Vi, really, go on and have another look. It’s not like this opportunity comes around every day. I promise, I’m not going to keel over.”

She shook her head at his lighthearted teasing, all ready with the stubborn reminder that he didn’t get the scare of wondering what had happened, worrying whether or not he was alright, but she bit her tongue in the end. Bickering wasn’t going to make him see his health as more important than their find, and it would probably only make him feel badly to know just how concerned she had been at the pale, unsteady sight he had presented when he first opened his door to her that morning. Plus, it would waste precious time, and so instead she moved off with a nod of begrudging consent and one more gentle press of his hand.

Henry, meanwhile, when he had made certain that Violet wasn’t holding back on his account, moved carefully toward the crumbling frame of the window in an outer wall still partially standing some feet away. It was slow going for the bits of stone and splintered, weathered furniture scattered in the way between, but he picked his way through the detritus without falling himself or destroying anything which might be of value. The niggling feeling that the window he stood before was the very one he had seen in his vision, the one from which the rogue lieutenant visiting his imprisoned lover swung to escape the princess’ guard, and he could hardly fight the need to touch it - see it - for himself, as if he could somehow derive the rest of the story, what had happened next, from the space he had seen in that reverie.

And though as much as he had promised his concerned protegé that all would be well, Henry still felt a bit off balance and unsettled, as if whatever presence or power in the air was still lingering from his encounter that morning. No sooner had he neared the wall, than he was reaching out to rest his hand on what would once have been the window sill, now loose and partially eroded by time.

Taking a moment to look more closely at the cracked stone and dusty grooves, Henry curled his fingers into a gap curiously, the piece of rock still in place shifting to the side and allowing his fingertips to slide deeper into the opening. For a moment, he felt nothing, just empty space and a disorienting sensation of brushing up against a wide open void, then his grasp caught against an edge of paper or leather, almost like the corner of a book. Straining to reach just a bit further, he managed to grasp the item and clutched tightly to draw it out.

Several more bits of debris and rubble fell away as Henry attempted to carefully extract his treasure. Once free of its hiding place, however, the mystery was revealed as indeed being some sort of leather bound journal or logbook. Brushing off the cover the best he could, despite the determined cling of years and years of cobwebs and mildew, Henry held his breath, hoping the pages wouldn’t crumble to dust, that they were still legible. It might contain the proof and the answers he had been seeking.

Ever so gingerly, Henry carefully opened the cover to find a flourishing if faded script scrawled across the opening page of the book in his hand. And even before he could locate the author’s purpose or name, he felt his surroundings begin to swirl and fade to grey once more, for the second time in one day, he was seeing the tower as it had been and the princess within it long ago…

“What have I done?!?” Emmaline’s tormented wail echoes in the thin air of the tower’s height, as her sword clatters to the floor from her suddenly nerveless fingers. The guard she felled is clearly not dead, as his chest rises and falls steadily even in unconsciousness. Still, though her father had trained her well in swordplay, until her technique and form was nearly as flawless as his own, she had never before actually struck someone with such determined intent. To stop them - and even end their life if necessary, rather than see her lover caught and killed.

Turning at that, her eyes still frantic at the blood that runs from the slice across his cheek beneath his eye, all too close to putting out the brilliant blue light forever. Her lip quivers, and Princess Emmaline struggles to bite back the ridiculous show of weakness and emotion, even while stumbling toward Killian at the same time.

He catches her in his arms, smoothing her wild hair back form her damp brow and whispering reassurances that she only did what she had to, that she isn’t cruel or evil, only a brave woman taking her stand in an impossible situation, and - if possible - he loves her even more, “bloody brilliant” she is in his adoring eyes.

However, the stolen moment is not meant to be theirs for long. Shouts from below remind them that the man they have felled to make their escape was not the only one, and unless they wish to be forced to do even more damage, they must go - immediately. Pausing a mere second longer, Emmaline snatches up a small brown book from a desk in the corner of the room. Pressing it to her mouth as if imprinting a kiss in its surface, she hurries to the window where her sailor stands waiting to spirit her away - from her family, her kingdom, her duty - but also to freedom and a life, something it has become clear she will never regain locked away in some gilded cage.

Working loose a part of the masonry, she slips her private diary into the aperture created, hoping against hope that it will be found. That her parents and her brother will be able to read it and know that she has discovered a way forward, even if it isn’t what they had always planned. She hopes she will see them again someday, but if not…

Looking up to meet her rogue lieutenant’s pained but knowing gaze, she is relieved to see she needs give no explanation. He understands, just as he always has. 

Then, with a final backward glance around her prison, she is swinging over the side with him, his steady presence next to her helping as they begin their descent on sturdy ropes, toward the ground below where horses wait to take them to his ship in the harbor....

Henry jolts back into his own place and time more immediately with this second vision. Already anxious to read the book still clasped in his hands, his heart thrums with excitement in his chest at knowing just what it is he holds. He gulps in air like a fish floundering on the docks, but it doesn’t slow his haste or enthusiasm. This is it; the evidence he had always believed he would find. Princess Emmaline existed, she was real; her story had happened just as it had been said. And now, at last, he could show the rest of the world the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~

Six months later ~

Hand in hand, Henry Mills and Violet Clemens stand in the sacred space once more - the site that drew both of them halfway around the world, but also to each other. Since their research venture to the Misthavian ruins, there has been widespread recognition that the tiny kingdom did exist and that its lost princess had been a real, living being of flesh and blood. Though it was asking a bit much for the reigning historical and scientific community to believe that she had been locked away due to a fear of her magic, as detailed in her diary, it had become accepted knowledge that Princess Emmaline had been held in the windswept and isolated tower they had explored, she had been denied her birthright and crown, and had - much like her homeland - vanished almost completely from history… if not for the tokens Professor Henry Mills and his team had discovered.

They are now both published and much-lauded experts in their field; both already had been experts, it was just a matter of the rest of the world realizing it. More important than glory and fame though, to both Henry and Violet, was that now they could return to this place, so close to both their hearts, and perhaps offer closure to two souls who had been awaiting it much longer than either of them.

As the couple stood at the small display which had since been constructed at the scenic overlook near the ruins, there was an absolute sense of accomplishment. It was just a small podium with a guest book for tourists and visitors to sign and a protective case allowing the compass and diary to be returned where they belonged, but still available for the curious, the lost, and the lonely to see, to read, and to learn from the Princess’ story and take heart again. It was just how Henry had wanted it and had fought against various museums and universities to have it be displayed - as he could only hope the long ago royal would have approved.

Looking lovingly to the woman at his side, Henry smiled unabashedly as the sparkle of her engagement ring caught his eye and he simply brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss the back of hers. He could still remember that first dim evening, when he had ventured within the tower’s remaining walls with cautious reverence. He had sensed that he was not alone, the presence that - while not threatening - had still sent a shiver skittering down his spine. Violet had long since talked with him of a similar awareness as they worked within the aged structure, and it was what brought them back now, to say one final farewell before embarking on a joined life together, to bid another lingering pair of lovers rest at long last - impossible as that quest might seem.

“Do you think we’ll know if they’re here?” Violet whispered to him, her eyes wide and half-hopeful, half-worried.

“I’m not sure what to expect,” he answered seriously. “It was just a feeling I couldn’t shake when we were here before. I don’t know whether to believe it will be more or less this time around.”

They waited, breath caught between nervously bitten lips in silence, before Henry stepped closer to the preserved ancient stone walls rising around them. “If you can hear me…” he started, tentative but determined, hopeful, and in a voice gaining strength as he continued with Violet’s reassurance at his back. “Princess? Lieutenant?...The world knows now, about Misthavia and about you.  That you were real, that you existed, and about your love for each other. No one believes Killian stole you away against your will anymore. And though most people of the modern age don’t believe in magic, they know now that you were wrongfully imprisoned, your Highness. They understand that though Misthavia ceased to exist as a separate nation, you never had your chance to rule to try and save her. And…” Henry paused here, swallowing a lump that took him by surprise as it formed suddenly in his throat… “and, though we can’t for sure know what became of either of you, it is known that Lieutenant Jones saved you, Princess Emmaline. That you loved him and he loved you. And I’m going to choose to believe in a happy ending for you both… that you sailed until you found a place where you could be together, come what may.”

“I do too,” Violet echoed into their still surroundings, offering him a gently affectionate smile as she gazed up into his intense and open brown eyes - the moment stretching powerfully between the two of them, cementing their faith in each other and their bond, whether or not anyone else bore witness.

Then, surprisingly, Violet’s eyes widened as she looked off to Henry’s side. “They - they’re here…” she breathed, almost too stunned to speak at all in the quiet evening around them.

Peering in the same direction Violet was, awestruck, Henry was slowly able to discern two clouded white shapes in the murky grey dusk, becoming ever more solid and opaque as Henry and Violet stood watching. Though far from corporeal, they were two human forms, one slighter with almost an outline of a medieval, bell-sleeved dress and what appeared a flower crown upon its head; the other taller and wearing what seemed to be a sword at its side, with broader shoulders.

Though the apparitions seemed to turn toward Henry and Violet, as if offering their gratitude, they came no closer, and merely hovered in place as the two historians held their breath for fear the moment might vanish. Soon enough as it was, the two cloudy shapes, once princess and pirate sailor, appeared to bow in farewell, then move toward the overlook, as though seeing the bright horizon and the waves far below that they had been separated from for so long. Just before the modern couple’s eyes, their ghosts began to fade into nothingness, gradually losing consistency, as if finally slipping the tether that had held them to the ruin. Vindicated at last, and free to move beyond, they set sail for peaceful shores. 

Tagging a few who might be interested: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@laschatzi @iamstartraveller776 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica

@stahlop @kday426 @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda

@belovedcreation @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @bdevereaux @shady-swan-jones

@goforlaunchcee @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @drowned-dreamer

@undercaffinatednightmare @myfearless-love @winterbaby89 @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan

[tisorridalamor]

Kurayukaba and Kuramerukagari

Watched these movies over the weekend and didn’t see too much discussion on them in the tags so wanted to out my two cents out there!

TLDR: Both are fun, short 60 min films with underground tunnels, steampunk contraptions, cool action sequences, and really pleasing art that reminds me of slightly more anime Professor Layton style. They have implied overlap through settings, themes, and minor characters, but can be enjoyed independently and in any order! There is a manga version of Kuramerukagari ongoing and I saw rumors of novel spin offs. I’m hopeful for more from this setting/series in the future!

No major spoilers below :)

I discovered these movies on tumblr through hearing that Kurayukaba was a detective film dealing with mysterious disappearances and an underground society, which immediately intrigued me as someone who’s a big mystery fan. Kuramerukagari on the other hand is about a young mapmaker in a mining city who makes a living charting new roads, tunnels, sinkholes, and territorial disputes.

Of these two summaries, I was a little let down with Kurayukaba as specifically a detective movie - I still enjoyed it!! But it felt more like an action / adventure starring a detective rather than a true mystery, so I want to be upfront about that with any mystery fans who are likewise intrigued by the teaser I wrote above. However I found that what it lacks in meaty mystery it makes up for in world and visuals. Both of these movies have such fun settings, and maybe it’s cause I’m still on my Tears of the Kingdom kick but traversing through secret caves and tunnels is so fun. These aren’t new concepts but they’re given a lot of character that makes you want to go out hunting for passage ways to underground cities yourself.

To touch on a bit of criticism with Kurayukaba, I must say the movie had two flaws in that it’s hampered by its short length and I think that contributes to a rushed ending. Maybe it’s just cause I’ve been watching older, slower anime recently, but this movie felt like a mile a minute from the get go and yet didn’t have time to properly set up the conclusion. Now I don’t mind a fast paced story or lots of quick dialog, but more time would have allowed for some breathers and to conclude the ending clearly. from what I’ve read online I’m not the only one who didn’t quite get the movie’s ending reveals. But oddly, because the movie felt less like a true mystery to me, the ending being kinda confusing wasn’t that big of a disappointment - I still enjoyed it, enjoyed seeing the characters act and react, and may even rewatch the movie someday to figure out if it’s a little clearer the second go around. I did wish I had known ahead of time to not expect overlap between Kurayukaba and Kuramerukagari though, as I was hoping some more explanation or more explicit connections between the movies after Kurayukaba’s ending.

I watched Kurayukaba first, then Kuramerukagari immediately after. My assumption that the two movies were majorly connected was pretty quickly proven false, but I was able to let go of those expectations and fall into the new movie without dwelling on that. There’s actually a lot less tunnels and no underground city in this one, but the action and above ground city was every bit as good. I really can’t emphasize how much fun this was to watch! I LOVED the crazy library as well. The “Japanese city with mild steampunk elements” is a very fun aesthetic, and the art was once again such a treat :)

Now as for my criticisms with Kuramerukagari, the plot didn’t have any major confusing elements like Kurayukaba, but unlike Kurayukaba it did include scenes and characters that didn’t seem necessary to the overall story. While I liked the police chief lady and Candy Shop, neither of them provided much more than exposition we could’ve gotten elsewhere or we did get elsewhere. I fully expected Ms. Chief to recruit one of the mapmakers, but her story of gets sidelined by the neighborhood turf war. I believe Kurayukaba needed more time to properly flesh out its ideas, but Kuramerukagari had time it could have used to strengthen its story and unfortunately gave it away to two characters that don’t contribute much to the main plot. I really hope the manga continues after just adapting the movie and we see them more involved, otherwise I’d be pretty disappointed that they were included even though I really liked their designs, dynamic, and voice acting

From my understanding, these titles were both part of a crowd funding campaign. I don’t entirely know the details of it, but I wonder if rather than making two good, shorter movies with similar themes if the creators could have pooled their resources and instead made one great, longer film? In the end though, I’m still happy with what I watched. Both movies have some fun ideas and are easy to watch in one sitting, so they’re worth checking out if you want something fun and quick to watch. I think it’s a success if a story (or stories in this case) leaves you wanting more from the characters and setting, and I definitely got that here. I really do hope that the Kuramerukagari manga gets a translation someday, as I can’t find any official or unofficial English release yet, and what I’ve seen of the art looks stunning ✨

[beehunterkisser]

fav pnf episodes and or songs? (love your art 🙏 keep it up)

THANK YOU SOOO MUCH i had to take a long time to think about this becuase it is to this day one of the hardest questions to answer ever maybe.

Sorry im about to yap so much. youve enabled me anon

MY FAVOURITE EPISODES I always immediately think of the s3 AU episodes. particularly tri stone area i remember i was watching it on discord with my GF and the experience was basically me pointing at the screen and going THIS IS PEAK the whole time. its really good. The s4 one also steampunx i am fond of specifically because i think steampunk is still cool and also it has professor elemental in it which means Steam Powered Giraffe has a phineas and ferb number of 2. steampunx 2 in season 6 will have them i just know it

Always the specials are my favourite. I remember PNF star wars i also watched it with my girlfriend and it also changed our lives. i am not even a star wars fan but it is such a peak point of pnf. summer belongs to you. night of the living pharmacists etc i feel like i dont need to talk about those though because they are so good and everyone knows that THE first christmas special is super cute too. the ione with kelly clarkson the songs the characters get are so good

i always enjoy a good buford episode if theres some thing to know about me i am the guy they make the buford episodes for. buford confidential when worlds collide bully bust bully code etc etc etc. all made for me becuase it makes me smile..!

and just for scattered ones i love no particular order im too enthusiastic for that.

wizard of odd becuase its cute.. remains of the platypus. knot my problem. escape from phineas tower FERB TV I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVED FERB TV. I LOVE FERB TV. monster from the id.. isabella and the temple of sap..etc etc etc many such cases. ive talked too much about episodes im sorry ok SONGS

Ok. immediately off the top of my head my favourite songs... runnin from love. ferb latin. gordian knot. home on the road. chupacabra ho. lonely vampire. everything is probable. whalemingo..non reaction song. aerial rug. robot love song. i could go on forever i was actually doing an all pnf songs tier list a while ago but i got distracted maybe i should get back on that. ANYWAY there you go i hope this very long answer satiates you

[giantologist]

Hello professor!

My husband is a huge (literally) fan of yours, and is quite interested in humans! He loves reading your findings, and hopes to one day have as wide an audience as your own! He does have a question for you, however. He’s asked me to ask you due to his nervousness, so here we go:

Have you ever seen an elemental type of giant? A frost giant, fire giant, stone giant, etc? And what do you know about such giants?

Sincerely,

Benjamin Frost-Mills

((Ooc: my friend [Benjamin’s husband’s creator] does actually love ur blog :] he’s just a tumblr lurker)

Hello to you!

I have come across a few during my travels, although I can tell you that they are not a natural occourance. One would not find an elemental giant somewhere of neutral magical standing.

For example, I once met a fire giant who had set up home in what he thought was a regular mountain. I am not at all well versed in magic, but something to do with powerful energy fissures and magma transformed his body in much the same way as radiation might transform ours, albeit with less harmful effects. Ashy skin with smoking fissures, a strange glow about the eyes and hair, and resistance to (and even rudimentary manipulation of) fire were his main characteristics.

Unfortunately, such individuals find themselves ostracised from their communities, as they are known to be unpredictable to their own kind, and downright evil to ours. Such opinions are due to their elemental nature being inherently destructive, which only worsens as their loneliness grows. Of course, I have never been one to shy away from such things, and although the magical arts continue to elude me, I am striving to research such phenomena.

I do hope to, in the near future, find some semblance of a cure, or at the very least attempt to connect those suffering with people who may ease their isolation.

Professor J Finch