#screening britannia

[drtonykeen]

A few snippets of news from the world of me.

[madseance]

worst thing about being on european time is that it's always Too Damn Early for whatever bullshit the Americans are doing

[youryurigoddess]

Aziraphale’s wine

It is a truth universally acknowledged in the Good Omens fandom that an angel in need of a drink turns to his secret stash of Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the back room. He picked up a dozen cases in 1921, and a whole century later there's still some left… for special occasions.

Just to put things in perspective, a standard case contains 12 750ml bottles, for a total of 9 liters of wine. A dozen cases equals 144 bottles, or 108 liters of wine. That’s quite a lot for a single purchase, so Aziraphale — the established sherry and sweet drinks connoisseur — must have had a good reason for it.

One potential explanation is the aura of grandeur around this particular wine. The papal connection, rich history of the region, and recognition of high quality products give Châteauneuf-du-Pape wines a very luxurious status, considerably influencing their price tags. And Aziraphale is known to have standards.

Another one is the way in which their taste differs from Aziraphale’s usual choices: Châteauneuf-du-Pape reds are often described as earthy with gamey flavors that have hints of tar and leather. The wines are considered tough and tannic in their youth, but maintain their rich spiciness as they age.

Since everything in Good Omens has a meaning, it never hurts to run through a quick Strong’s Concordance search whenever a date pops up in a dialogue or, even more importantly, somewhere on screen. More often than not the result seems to match the researched topic, as it’s the case here:

1921: to know exactly, to recognize.

Provided examples: I come to know by directing my attention to him or it, I perceive, discern, recognize; I found out. The general usage of the word usually refers to knowing someone aptly, properly, thoroughly, even biblically. Which might be either a wishful thinking on Aziraphale’s part or just another layer of subtext in this already romantically charged scene. The table dressing, multiple candles, and focus on the lamps with Auguste Moreau’s Young Lovers statues in the background seem to successfully communicate what the angel left unsaid.

Too bad that Crowley remained so adorably oblivious for the next eighty years. At least when he finally came to the realization, he responded with an attempted temptation to another vintage red wine @vidavalor already analyzed.

But back to Aziraphale’s wine. To be exact, it’s a 1921 Châteauneuf-du-Pape from the domaine de Baban. An actual French vineyard from the Rhône region that still exists to this day, even though a few decades ago it got merged with another estate into what is now known as domaine Riché-Baban. According to the local guides, the 11 hectares on the estate are located in the Châteauneuf-du-Pape designation area in the Bois Lauzon and Mourre de Baud districts. At the moment 90% of the wines produced there are sent to wine dealers.

1920s were quite an interesting time for this region, but not because of the flapper cabarets or drag shows usually associated with the era on the Old Continent. To the horror of European oenophiles, right after World War I the whole of France found itself awash with fake wine. One of the worst outrages was the use of lead that magically transformed cheap, acid wine into something deceptively rich and sweet on the outside and one of the most powerful neurotoxins on the inside. People were already well aware of its effects — the poisoning from drinking sweetened wine probably made Handel go blind and Beethoven go deaf, but it shows how desperate for sweetness they were before sugar became available to the masses.

Admittably, it wasn’t a new practice. Far from it — the Romans liked it so much that they even advised to pack lead pans on travels to boil local wine in them to make it sweeter, especially in colder provinces like Britannia. But Aziraphale didn’t buy twelve cases of counterfeit wine for the sake of some good memories of Rome and its many health hazards. No, the fussy angel made sure to get the actually good stuff from the other side of the English Channel.

Henry Tacussel, whose name is mentioned on his wine label, was a French viticulturalist and a close friend of Baron Pierre Le Roy of the Chateau Fortia nearby, a trained lawyer and fellow winegrower from Châteauneuf-du-Pape who established the Winegrowers' Union of the Rhône Valley. Together with the Baron he became one of the founders of Appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC), a labeling system intended to protect regional products and technologies that is still in use in France and serves as an inspiration to similar solutions worldwide. Their efforts were deliberately centred on Châteauneuf-du-Pape because with such a beguiling name even in comparison to other labels it seemed to attract an undue share of fraudsters at the time.

Soon after Aziraphale’s shopping spree, the local wine producers led by Le Roy and Tacussel began a very long campaign to establish legal protection for the wine from their commune. The delimited area and the method of wine production were finally awarded legal recognition after a decade, in 1933, but it wasn’t the end of the criminal activities on this front. An undercover investigation by The Sunday Times discovered that most of the “Châteauneuf” in the 1960s Britain was actually blended and bottled in Ipswich.

One question remains: was it a purely human affair, or maybe one requiring a demonic or angelic intervention?

[smthfunnyhappenedonthewaytor3]

Suzaku: Lloyd, check into their cameras. Lloyd: Oh sure, let me just load my "tap into every security camera in Britannia" app. Lloyd: *taps the screen* Lloyd: I’m sorry if that sounded like sarcasm. It wasn’t. I am in.

[lazyofficer]

HERE IS WHY SHIRLULU IS LEGITIMATE SHIP -PART 7

Warning: I'm not a writer and English is not my native language. So kindly bare it or DM me about it. Criticism is welcomed not hate.

Continuation

GOLDEN ANIME STANDARDS FOR THE LOVE INTEREST -

There are numbers of shonen animes were the female lead and love interest are aren't the same and the love interest doesn't get much screen space.

Eg. Yu Yu Hakusha - Boton always accompanies the hero but Keiko is the love interest.

Shirley was created to be his love interest and unlike Kallen and CC, her entire character story is based on her relationship with Lelouch and how she handles it.

Shirley was chosen to be Lelouch's love interest to show his human side, to show his struggle to strike a balance between his goal and his feelings.

Reasons

1. Nickname

Shirley is the only person to ever give a nickname to Lelouch, "Lulu" and except for her, no one calls him that. 

2. Discovering his identity

Usually anime, which consists of a hero with a double life, The love interest is the first one to discover his other identity. 

First person to discover about Lelouch's identity as Zero and even after losing her memories she still discovered that he is zero and knew it till the end of R1. (she had a lot of potential).

3. Romance

ShirLulu has their own story with romance , angst and comedy. Their moments are explicitly romance.(explained in part 1 -part 6)

Angst element - Lelouch killed her father, and Shirley gets to know the truth and how both of them deal with their emotions, respectively.

A small backstory with Shirley's dad was added to catalyze their story. This gives a green signal for Shirlulu and also hints at Lelouch's feelings for Shirley.

RomCom element - Lelouch, who can turn situations around and accomplish the impossible, is a total dummy when it comes to romance and handling Shirley.

It's hilarious how he doesn't have a chance against Shirley.

4. Parallel with Nunnally

Lelouch is promising to fulfill Shirley's wish, like he did with Nunnally.  Lelouch has always been sweet to Nunnally and Shirley.

These parallels make it seem like Shirley is the next important person after Nunnally.

Ironically, both of them have the least interaction with Lelouch, yet they are very important to him

5. Crossroads

Almost all Shonen animes have this classic scene where the hero ha to his loved ones without forgetting his purpose. He would be at a crossroads and ultimately manages to save both.

R1 stage 08

Shirley, Nina, and Milly were kidnapped by a Japanese gang.

The narrative was like how will Lelouch would manage to save Shirley while still being against Britannia, typical like a hero at crossroads.

6. Kidnapping

Another classic is the heroine getting kidnapped by the antagonist, and the hero has to save her. Usually, the kidnapping is done to show the importance of the heroine to him and also to level up the hero.

 R1 Stage 14

Mao confrontation -he had to save Shirley from mao

7. Geass

Shirley is the only person to be geass-ed thrice. Twice by Lelouch and once by the emperor and also got the Geass cancelled by Jeremiah.

8. Hints

Lelouch has Nunnally, Suzaku, CC, and Kallen, yet It's Shirley's death that emphasizes Lelouch path of solitude. 

 Lelouch killed Euphy with a gun, and Shirley got killed by a gun. Suzaku lost his love due to Lelouch, and as Karma Lelouch has to lose his.

Even after their death, Shirley and Euphy were mentioned still the end of the series.( Rolo and Nunnally are mentioned too but the meaning is different).

R1 went in the direction of Shirley being the love interest (they were direct), but since Shirlulu failed to be popular, Makers made Shirlulu take a back seat, making them subtle in R2.

[neverwanttofallasleep]

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 2

Word count: 6,800

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Friday, December 16th, 2022

Manchester, England to London, England

You finally wake up to the chime of your third alarm, ringing out loudly into the dark hotel room. 6.35am. You’ve always struggled with waking up early, especially after a show night.

You groan, rolling over to silence your phone. You reach your arm back to pat the space next to you, knowing Jake is just as heavy a sleeper and usually requires an in-person wake up call, only to find the right side of the large bed empty.

Suddenly the memory of last night rushes back to you, and you jolt upright. As you slowly return to full consciousness, you become aware of the puffy tightness around your eyes and the ache in your chest. No doubt the residual evidence of crying yourself to sleep.

After Jake had stormed back down the hotel corridor to the elevator, you’d scrambled to find your room key and shut yourself in as quickly as you could manage. 

You’d thrown your bags down onto the leather armchair in the corner of the room, fighting back tears, suddenly more angry than upset at his outburst. You hadn’t deserved that. If you felt guilty, so should he. It was his relationship at stake, not yours. You hadn’t made it up in your head, you knew there was something between the two of you, something that had your stomach in knots every time you were around him.

You’d sunken down onto the scratchy hotel carpet, each emotion hitting you like a brick. This job, this tour, it meant so much to you. You loved the work, and the music, getting to travel the world and seeing new cities each day. You’d truly been living your dream. But at the centre of it all, there was Jake. From the moment he’d first spoken to you at that crew party, you’d felt drawn to him. Like your centre of gravity had shifted. Every exciting moment you’d had while you’d been on the road, every new experience, it was all made better when you could share it with him.

You’d hugged your knees to your chest, finally allowing yourself to choke out the sobs you’d been holding in since he’d raised his voice at you. What did this all mean? You couldn’t continue this friendship as it had been. To be totally honest, in that moment, you weren’t even sure if he wanted to. But you’d known, whatever had occurred tonight, it couldn’t happen again. You were so embarrassed that you’d told him your relationship had felt like more than friendship to you. You knew he couldn’t possibly feel that way about you, he had Lily. Whatever these feelings were, they were yours, and yours alone. You couldn’t let yourself feel that way. He was off limits for you, and if that meant sacrificing your friendship, then so be it.

You’d sat there on the floor, switching between crying, sucking in sharp breaths, and just sitting in silence with your head resting on your knees, for what felt like hours. When you’d finally pulled out your phone, you saw a notification on your lock screen. 1 new text. Quietly hoping for a message from him, you’d swiped it open, only to find a reply from the dry-cleaner. 

12.10am Pete M (GVF dry cleaner): No worries, Y/N. Britannia Hotel, yes? Text me your room number - see you at 7.

Shit. The jumpsuit. You quickly replied with the details and locked your phone.

1.33am. You still had work to do, and as much as you wanted to crawl into bed and sleep forever, you knew that the show must go on.

You'd gotten up slowly, stretching out your arms and legs from sitting for so long. You trudged toward the small bathroom, only glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly before reaching in to turn on the shower. The back of your neck was still sticky and you could smell the reek of tequila in your hair and clothes as you stripped them off.

You’d climbed into the shower and hissed when the too-hot water hit your shoulders, but you didn’t mind. You needed it to wake you up, and draw the tension from your muscles. You stood under the spray for a while, splashing your face, hoping to remove some of the redness from your eyes. You’d scrubbed your arms and legs, quickly washing your hair, and when you felt sufficiently clean, you reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out.

After wrapping your hair in a fluffy hotel towel and throwing on an old t-shirt and a pair of underwear, you grabbed your back-pack and tote from the chair and sat yourself up in bed to do your mending.

It didn’t take long, it was just a small tear in the chiffon, right on the seam of the arm and shoulder. After 20 minutes or so, you were happy with your work, your fingers a little sore from hand stitching, and you decided you were done for the night.

You knew with a night off tomorrow in London you’d have plenty of time to prepare the clean clothes once Pete returned them, and your one urgent job was now complete. You were satisfied that the mundane work had taken your mind off of Jake, for the time being.

You’d hung up Josh’s jumpsuit on a wire hanger on the back of the door, repacking your sewing supplies and your empty tote into your back-pack, placing them back near your duffle bag, where you’d dumped your jeans and crew t-shirt from the day. You turned off the overhead light, crawling back into the soft bed. You’d wished that Jake had been there with you. You missed the comfort of a warm body next to you, the familiar sound of his breathing when he inevitably fell asleep before you, and the way he would drape his arm over your waist in the middle of the night.

You’d sighed, reaching up to flick off the bedside lamp, setting your alarms and burrowing down under the covers. In the silence, it took you a while to get to sleep, Jake’s sad expression painted on the inside of your eyelids. But when sleep finally found you, you slept like the dead.

Now, you draw the curtains, the sun not yet having begun to rise over the sprawling, grey city. Yesterday, Manchester had seemed full of possibility. This morning, the dark sky and buildings leeched of colour in the moonlight mirror your mood. You walk over to the small dresser opposite the bed, flicking on the electric kettle. Tea will have to do this morning, you’re over the instant coffee packets you’ve been finding in UK hotels. As the kettle boils, you make your way to the bathroom, running a brush through your sleep-dried hair and pulling it up into a messy bun.

You pack away the remainder of your toiletries, washing your face, rolling on some deodorant and applying some SPF and mascara before zipping up the bag and stowing it back in your duffle. You pull out a casual outfit, just some comfy linen pants and a green sweater, stripping your pyjamas and tossing them into the bag before zipping it closed. 

You get dressed leisurely, having given yourself an extra buffer of time. You kind of regret this, as it gives you more minutes to stew over the events of the night before. Once you’ve donned your boots, you lay out your coat and scarf on the bed, ready to brave the December chill of the city in less than half an hour. You check your phone for the time. 6.54am. Pete will be here in a few minutes. You brew your tea, giving Josh’s jumpsuit a final once over as you let the teabag steep. You’re a little proud of your handiwork, considering your emotional state.

As you’re topping up your tea with one of those little plastic packets of milk, there’s a quiet knock at the door. You open it and greet Pete good morning.

“Cold this morning.” He grumbles.

You chuckle, retrieving the garment from the hook and handing it to him.

“Sure is. See you in London!”

He gives a gruff wave and heads back down the hallway.

After you’ve had your tea and sufficient time to panic over how things will go with Jake today, you bundle up in your warm clothes, pack your final items into your purse and make your way down to the hotel lobby. 

When you make it out the front entrance, it’s still dark, and the chill bites your cheeks immediately. You beeline for the crew bus. Jake usually makes space for you on one of the sleeper buses with him and the band, but you don’t feel like you’ll be welcome there today.

As you’re loading your bags into the back of the mini-bus, Sam and Lennon catch you as they’re heading out into the porte-cochere. 

“Morning, Y/N!” Lennon chirps. She looks undeniably sprightly this morning, especially when standing next to Sammy, who looks like he’s about to fall flat on his face at any moment, gripping tightly to a paper cup of what you assume to be coffee. It doesn’t even look like his eyes have fully opened yet.

You give them a small wave and turn back to loading your belongings.

She gives Sam a pat on shoulder, which makes him wince, before bounding over to you.

“We’re sharing the bus with Jake today, Danny and Josh are gonna take the other one. So we can catch up!” She giggles excitedly. “Sammy’s not feeling too flash - I can’t imagine Jake is either, to be honest, after the amount those two drank last night.” She’s laughing as she says this, but it makes your stomach drop. It doesn’t take much to piece together why Jake would’ve wanted to get shitfaced last night. “But, I reckon they’ll sleep the whole trip, which is perfect ‘cause I just wanna hang out with you!”

You shake your head, unsure how to navigate this. Would Jake want them all to know what happened between the two of you last night? You assumed he’d go right to Sam’s room to have a bitch about it, but given Lennon’s assumption that you’d be riding on his bus, it sounds like he didn’t.

“I dunno. I’m not feeling 100% today.” It’s not totally a lie, your head is swimming with anxiety. “I might ride on the crew bus so I can take a nap.”

She scoffs. “Don’t be silly, hon! The boys aren’t feeling good either, and you’d be much more comfy on one of the bunks if you want to nap. As long as we get to ride together - you can sleep the whole trip if you need to! I’ve got some reading to catch up on anyway.” You close up the trunk of the mini bus, but not before she snags your purse and throws it over her shoulder. She puts her arm around you, turning and leading you both toward the first of the two giant, black buses. 

You haven’t seen any sign of Jake yet, which is good, but at the same time also kind of unsettling. You’re wondering what kind of state he’ll be in this morning, but if Sammy is any indication, it won’t be good. Jake is always in a shitty mood when he’s got a hangover. 

Lennon leads you up the stairs onto the bus, where Sam is already sprawled across the small sofa in the front compartment. As you walk through, he groans loudly and throws his arm across his eyes.

Lennon sighs, reaching down to brush some hair from his forehead.

“Drama queen.” She mutters. 

He peeks his eyes out. “Wrong brother.” He retorts. “Josh is the drama queen.”

“Seems it runs in the family.” She chides.

He huffs and covers his eyes again.

You situate yourself at the small table across the way from the sofa, pulling your knitting out of your purse. You’ve always been one to hand-make gifts, and you’d been knitting small things for the boys in the band for Christmas presents. Luckily you’d already finished Jake’s, and it was stowed away safely in your duffle, not to be thought about. You were working on a chunky purple and navy scarf for Danny, and you were about a third of the way into it.

Lennon slides into the bench seat opposite you.

“That’s gorgeous. Who’s it for?”

You smile at your work. “Danny. It’s a Christmas gift. These are his colours, I think.”

She grins, running her hand over the soft wool. “Definitely.” She hums. “I need coffee.”

Sam perks up at this. “There’s a hot water urn under the sink.” He points to the little kitchenette behind the driver’s seat. “And a French press too. And coffee grounds, I think.”

Lennon rolls her eyes and gets up.

She gestures her chin at you. “You want one?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I’d kill for a real coffee after what we’ve been having here.”

She giggles. “Amen to that!”

As Lennon starts to prepare the necessary items for coffee, you hear boots clacking up the bus steps. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere.

“Back from the dead!” Lennon greets him with a grin. “Good morning, Jake.”

“Yeah, ‘morning.” He nods at her. He smiles when he sees his brother napping on the couch. “You look about as good as I feel, Sammy.” 

Sam chuckles from under his arm. “Well, you said it. At least we don’t have to drive.”

Jake looks like he’s about to reply with some quip, when he spots you sitting at the table behind Lennon.

“Uh, I’m going back to sleep.” He says quickly.

He makes a small noise of acknowledgement toward you, which sounds a lot like a grunt, and then brushes past and draws the curtain to the bunk compartment.

You aren’t quite sure what you were expecting from him today, but you guess avoidance is better than confrontation. It still stings though. If this had been yesterday morning, he might have slid into the booth next to you. 

He might’ve admired your knitting, telling you how impressed he was at how much you’d managed to complete in the past 24 hours. He might have teased you, asking what you were gonna make for his gift, because you’d been so sneaky about hiding it from him. He might have slung his arm around the back of the bench seat while you both gratefully accepted your steaming mugs of coffee from Lennon, occasionally letting his finger tips brush over your shoulder with the movement of the bus. He might have moved to the couch when Sammy finally retired to the bunks, pulling out his acoustic and strumming a private show for you and Lennon. You loved watching him when the music would just come to him. Like he was channeling it from some higher power. He could just play and play and play, tuning out the world, glancing at you every so often just to catch you staring.

Instead, you thank Lennon as she places a single mug of coffee on the small table, and goes over to sit on the couch with Sam’s head in her lap.

About an hour in, when you’ve done a sufficient amount of knitting and downed two coffees, the 4 hours of sleep you’ve had is starting to creep up on you. 

Lennon catches you, unable to keep your eyes open.

“Oh, hon, you do look exhausted. Go have a lie down in the bunks. It’ll make the ride go so much faster.”

You smile at her appreciatively, but realise this would mean having to interact with Jake, or at the very least, invade his space.

“I’m alright. I’ll lay on the couch if Sammy moves to the bunks.”

Sam grunts. “Not moving. M’comfy here.”

Lennon laughs, picking up his head and placing it on a cushion so she can get up from her spot.

“C’mon, girl. You need your beauty rest. You’ve got a job to do here too, don’t you forget.”

She’s right, and you realise you won’t get any work done today if you don’t sleep. You’ll just crash as soon as you get the hotel.

She helps you pack your knitting back into your purse and ushers you down the hall. At this moment, you really wish this was one of those buses with a private double bed at the rear. At least then, you could rest assured Jake would’ve taken it, and you could take one of the bunks without fear of running into him. Instead, this one just has a tiny bathroom at the back with a toilet and shower, but only 4 beds, 2 bunks on either side of the walkway.

Lennon pulls back the curtain and then draws it closed behind you as you step into the small space. You can hear small snores coming from the bed Jake has claimed, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You won’t actually have to speak to him. Just fear his wrath if he wakes up and sees you across the way.

They are small bunks, but comfortable enough, especially with how sleepy you are. You place your bag and coat on the top bunk, sitting down on the bottom one to pull off your boots. You place them delicately under the bed, careful not to make any noise. You stand again to grab your headphones from your purse, when your phone slips out of your pocket and clatters to the floor.

“Fuck.” You mutter.

“What the fuck was that?” Jake groans, eyes still closed.

“Sorry, dropped my phone.” His eyes shoot open when he realises it’s you standing in front of him.

“Right.” He says quietly. “Uh, why are you in here?”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You cringe a bit at the confession, knowing he’s the reason you slept so poorly. “Lennon forced me to come in here and take a nap because I couldn’t keep my eyes open.” You know you’re rambling, but you don’t know how to navigate this situation. “Sorry if you don’t want me in here, it’s just that, Sam’s taken up the couch and there’s no other beds.” You’ve never had any type of bad energy with Jake, not even a disagreement. This is new territory for both of you.

He sighs. “Ok. Keep it down, please.” He rolls over to face the wall, tucking the blanket up over his ears.

You slide into the small bed, pulling the blanket up around you, and place your headphones over your ears. You unlock your phone to choose some music to help you sleep. You almost always listen to music to fall asleep. You’ve done it ever since you were a kid. You’ve tried white noise, sleep-casts, rain sounds, but nothing puts you to sleep quite like your favourite songs. 

The only time you don’t, is when you have someone sleeping next to you. The sound of their breathing is just as good. Stella snored like a chainsaw, and you’d secretly loved it. The reassurance of knowing she was there had always relaxed you. This was also especially true for Jake. He’s broad, and warm like a space heater, and breathes heavily through his nose. It was so comforting.

Right now, though, knowing how he’s feeling about you, you can’t stand to hear him, or even acknowledge the fact that he’s less than 4 feet away from you.

You put on ‘Line of Fire’ by Junip, turn to face the wall, and quickly fall asleep.

You wake up to the sound of laughter, it sounds like Sammy. You groan and stretch, your limbs tight from the cramped space. You’ve rolled over in your sleep, your headphones have slid down around your neck, and when you open your eyes, you see Jake’s empty bunk across from you.

You hear laughing again, louder this time, and you can hear Jake laughing, too.

Fuck.

You can’t go out there, you’ll ruin his mood. 

You’re beginning to feel guilty about your conversation last night. You know he overreacted. He didn’t have any right to go off at you like that. But, you keep reminding yourself, it’s not his fault that you have feelings for him. And maybe, he really did have no idea until last night. Maybe that spark you feel between the two of you, just isn’t there for him. What he said about you being only a friend to him, it had to be true, right? Otherwise what reason would he have had to get so mad?

Plus, it’s his tour. His band, his family. Like you said last night. You’re his employee. Friendship aside, it would be inappropriate for you to treat him any differently than you did yesterday, or any of the days before. You’ve gotta keep it professional and put his feelings first, and your emotional involvement aside.

You realise you really have to pee, so you quietly climb up from the bunk and head to the small bathroom. When you wash your hands, you splash your face with some water, trying to revive yourself. You swipe under your eyes with some paper towel to remove your running mascara, and re-do your bun. You look fine. No one cares, anyway. 

When you open the door to head back to your bunk, Sam has drawn the curtains in the walkway.

“Good morning, princess! How’d you sleep?”

“Oh, yeah. Not too bad. As well as one can in these beds.” You smile ruefully. “What time is it? How long have we got left?”

“Almost there! Like half an hour, they reckon.” He seems much more alive than earlier. “Come join, we’re having a celebratory hair of the dog.” 

Ah, they’re drinking again. That must be what’s got both Sam and Jake in such good spirits.

You sigh. “Nah, I think I’m good. I’ve got work to do when we get to London, unlike you lot. I might just sit in here a bit longer.”

Sammy whines. “Come onnnnn, Y/N! We’re having fun! Plus, Lennon missed you so much. Spend some time with her before I whisk her away to the next hotel room.”

You concede, nodding your head, and follow Sam out to the main compartment.

Lennon is sitting in the booth, and Sam slides in opposite her. This leaves the other seat on the couch as the only free one.

Next to Jake.

You sit down, leaving as much space as you can between the two of you.

You’ve come to the decision that you’re not upset with him. You’re upset that you might be losing your friend, and you’re kind of pissed off that he’s not acknowledging you, even now as he and Sam banter over their vodka sodas, and Lennon leans over to you every few minutes, asking to be caught up on the inside jokes. You’re annoyed that he was so angry last night, and didn’t give you a chance to have a real conversation about things.

But you’re not upset with him. You’re scared of your own feelings, and you wonder even if things between you are repairable, whether you should bother at all.

You glance over to him every few minutes, and a couple of times you catch him looking at you, too. He doesn’t deliberately exclude you from the conversation, but if you had to guess, he was probably just trying not to rouse suspicion from the others. He never speaks to you directly, and you feel your heart fracturing just a little bit more.

When you arrive at the hotel in London, you disembark the bus as quickly as you can, keen to get away from the awkwardness you’ve endured for the last 40 minutes. It’s a little warmer here than it was in Manchester, but not by much. You head over to the mini-bus, which has beaten you all there significantly, your bags being the last to be unloaded.

You grab your things, and head into the lobby to retrieve your room key.

The band and crew are standing in a loose circle around the elevators, waiting for Craig, the tour manager, to provide the necessary information required for your stay in London. It’s about midday now, and you’ll be here for two nights total, with a show at the Alexandra Palace tomorrow.

Only two more nights, then back home. You can get through two nights.

Josh comes up by your side, slinging an arm around you.

“How was the ride?” He asks, chewing on a granola bar.

You muster as much of a smile as you can manage. “Oh, yeah. Nothing to report, really. I slept most of the way. Needed to catch up.”

He chuckles. “Well, we need you in ship-shape for the next couple’a days, so I for one am glad to hear it!”

You gather Jake hasn’t spoken to him, either.

“What are your plans for the holidays, Y/N? I keep meaning to ask you.”

“Not much, to be honest. Gonna spend them in New York. Got a few college friends I’ve been meaning to catch up with, and the tour will provide lodgings for the crew that’s staying in the city, so I figure I might as well, you know?” You try to keep yourself from sounding unenthusiastic, but it’s not really anything special.

“Aw, well, that sounds nice. At least you’ll get to have a White Christmas, hey?” He begins to hum Bing Crosby in your ear, and you giggle.

“Exactly. Might go see the ball drop. I’ve never been in person. Never wanted to brave the crowds.”

“Sound lovely.” He grins. 

Craig starts calling out departments, names and room numbers as people meander about the foyer.

“Alright, wardrobe. Y/N - you’re in room 528.”

You walk up to collect your cards and head back to Josh.

“Did you get yours yet?” You ask him.

“Yeah, 419. Same floor as Sam and Lennon. Danny, too, I think.” You love that Josh is an over sharer. You’re trying to scope out if you’ll be running into Jake.

“Any idea about Jake?” You ask casually. It wouldn’t be suspicious for you to want to know where he was staying, considering everyone on tour knew of your friendship. Perhaps only a little suspicious that you’d be asking Josh instead of Jake himself, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Floor 5, I’m pretty sure.” You feel your gut sink.

“Sweet.” You mumble.

You wait back in the lobby for a bit, hoping not to run into him. You find Freddie and Julie, relieved to see some familiar, friendly faces.

“Holy shit, that mini-bus driver was a manic. Being on the wrong side of the road is bad enough, but he was going so fucking fast I thought we were gonna die.” Julie gushes to you.

Freddie laughs. “God, yeah. It was terrifying. But we had a good karaoke sesh, Y/N. Lots of Taylor Swift. You should’ve joined! I thought when you were putting your bags in the trunk, you must’ve been riding with us.”

You smile apologetically. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’d planned to, but Lennon wanted to catch up, so I rode with Jake and Sam.”

“Fuckin’ Jake.” Julie grumbles. “He’s always stealing you away from us. Just ‘cause you’re a pretty girl and he’s a rockstar. It’s not fair.”

You try to keep your laugh light. “Sorry! Next time, I promise. Once we’re back home.” You squeeze her hand. “I’d love to hear you belting some Love Story, Freddie.”

He laughs. “Nah, Shake It Off is my jam. Killed it this morning. Woke Tom up from his nap. Worth it, I reckon.” You all laugh.

You look around and see the lobby has mostly cleared, so you gesture to them to follow you to the elevators.

“What floor are you guys?” 

Julie checks her card. “6. Freddie?”

“Yeah, same. I think most of the crew are on 5 or 6. You?”

You sigh. “5.” He presses the button for you.

Of course, no one you knew was on the same floor as you. Except for Jake. 

There are roughly 38 crew on the tour, including the band, plus some friends and family that have joined for this leg. About 45 rooms are booked. And out of everyone, yours and Jake’s just happen to be so close.

Yesterday, that would’ve made you happy. Would’ve been easier for you to sneak into his room tonight when you got done with your work, without the teasing comments from his brothers or your friends.

Alas, things rarely work out as you plan them.

You unpack your things onto the nightstand and bathroom counter, doing a quick check of the mini-bar to find, yet again, instant coffee. You groan.

Ah, well. Could be worse. At least there was some champagne.

You decide to take a shower after the bus ride, feeling grimy and still a bit achy from the small bed.

When you’re done and re-dressed in some sweats, you get a phone call from Pete telling you the first round of cleaning is done and ready to be collected. You know you’ve got some sequins to fix for Danny, so you slide on your slippers and a sweatshirt, and head down to the lobby to meet Pete.

As you wait, you contemplate texting Jake. After the bus, you wonder if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. What exactly you’d say, you have no idea.

Before you can even open the message thread, Pete shuffles into the hotel, a clothing rack of black garment bags in tow. One of the bellboys tries to offer him a hand, but he waves them off.

You love Pete. He’s a grumpy old bastard, but he’s got a soft spot for you. He understands your dedication to your craft, and he often tells you that you remind him of his mother, who was a seamstress in LA in the 50’s and 60’s.

He reaches you, pulling the receipt from his pocket. “All sorted, love. I’ve already sent the invoice to Craig, but this has the inventory on it.” He puts it in your palm. “The next lot is on the truck being cleaned now, should be done by supper time.” He grumbles a little. “Some of it will need an extra iron. This cleaning van we’ve hired is rubbish. Tools don’t work so well. Can’t wait to get back home to old faithful.”

You smile warmly at him as he hands you the rack, nodding. “Thanks so much, Pete. You’re a star. Those boys would never be dressed without you.”

He laughs. “Well, a rock’n’roll band playing a show stark naked. People wouldn’t have bat an eyelid, back in my day.”

You giggle. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Well, missy, I bet you would.”

You blush. “Thanks, again. You can just load the rest of it straight back into the trunks, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“No worries, Y/N. Don’t work too hard.”

You wave him off as he heads back out to the loading dock, where the cleaning van is parked.

You check the receipt as you roll the rack into the elevator, scanning for Danny’s cape. It’s on there - thank God. That one will probably take you the most time this afternoon. The rest of your prep is mostly ironing and steaming, which you’ll do tomorrow morning before you have to load in to the venue.

As you go to press the button for your floor, a hand slides between the doors and they reopen. You glance up, and see Jake looking back at you. He steps in.

“Oh, sorry.” You mutter. The rack is taking up a lot of space.

“It’s fine. What, uh, what floor are you?” He asks.

“5.” You say quietly.

“Perfect.” He mutters.

The ride is quiet, one person gets in on floor 2 and out again at 4.

As the doors close, you decide to break the tension.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” 

He sighs. “Is there anything to talk about?”

You feel a pang of hurt at his words. “I don’t know, is there? We went from being best pals yesterday, to not talking at all today.” You sigh. “Guess I just want to know where we stand.”

The doors open and he steps out into the hallway, holding the door for you to wheel the rack out.

He runs a hand through his hair and replaces his sunglasses on his head. “You made it pretty clear, Y/N. You think we’re too co-dependant. Y’know, I thought giving you space would be the right thing to do.”

You frown. “And what about the fact that you practically blew up at me, swearing in my face?”

He sighs. “Yeah, dunno. Guess you kind of caught me off guard.”

Right. No apology.

“Okay, Jake. No worries.” You turn and walk down toward your room. As you stop to unlock your door, you turn back, and see him looking back too. He’s at his door, just on the other side of the elevator. He quickly glances away and disappears into his room.

As you step into yours and wheel the rack into the corner, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, realising the sweatshirt you’ve chosen.

It’s Jake’s.

You busy yourself with sequining, deciding it makes more sense just to pull all the old ones out and re-do them, which ends up taking you all afternoon and evening. At about 9.30pm, you realise all you’ve eaten today was a gas station sandwich Lennon picked up for you while you were asleep on the bus.

She texted you a couple of times earlier, letting you know that her, the boys and some of the crew were heading out into town for a drink, asking if you’d like to join. You’d politely declined, stating you had far too much work to do.

When you’re finally done sequining, you realise that you do need to eat some food, and you want to stretch your legs, so you wander down to the lobby to see if you can get anything from the restaurant.

You head straight to the counter, where a young waiter in all white is standing, counting receipts.

You smile at him. “Hey, the kitchen doesn’t happen to still be open, does it?”

He grins. “You’re in luck, ma’am. We’re just about to close but we had a couple of late comers tonight. What can I get you?”

You order some French fries and a side salad, and he offers to have it brought up to your room. You give him your room number and the details of the tour to charge it to, and head back upstairs with a wave. 

This is a beautiful old hotel, with a huge staircase at the centre of the lobby up to the first floor. You decide to walk it, get some much needed blood flowing into your legs, and catch the elevator from there.

Once you finally make it back to your floor, you step out and make to turn toward your room, when you hear a grunt behind you. You turn to see Jake, fumbling with his keycard, sunglasses low on his nose. He looks up and spots you.

“Y/N! Help me, please. Can’t get into my room.” He grins at you sheepishly, the hard exterior he’s been putting up all day completely gone.

You think it over for a second. You can see from here that’s he beyond drunk, and you feel sorry for him. If it was yesterday, you wouldn’t have hesitated.

You sigh and head over to where he’s just dropped his wallet and phone on the ground and is struggling to pick them back up.

Once he’s upright again, you see that he’s grinning at you, eyes following you, staring even.

You hold out your hand for the keycard and he hands it to you.

“Thanks. Couldn’t get it to work.” He slurs.

“Had a big night, hey?” You ask as you tap the key card and swing the door open.

He laughs. “Was that easy, huh? I must’ve had a big one.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, judging by the fact you’re back here and looking pretty rough before 11pm, I’d say so.”

If you didn’t know him better, you could’ve sworn he blushed at that.

He sits down on the bed and you place his key on the nightstand.

You head for the door.

“Wait, Y/N.” 

You turn, eyebrows raised.

“Can you stay for a minute? I, uh, I need some help.” He gestures to his shoes, embarrassed.

You huff. “Really, Jake? They don’t even have laces.”

He frowns. “I know that. Can’t feel my fingers at the moment. Wouldn’t be able to get the zippers. I’d just end up sleeping with them on.” He giggles.

You walk back over to the foot of the bed. He’s leaning back on his elbows, ankles extended toward you. You kneel down on the floor, unzipping his boots and placing them neatly on the floor next to the bedpost.

You remove his socks for good measure, and he hums as you place his feet back on the floor.

“Thank you.” He murmurs.

“It’s all good.” You reply. You stand up and take a step back, placing his socks on the dresser. “You gonna be alright now?”

He sits up, staring at you again. He just stays there for a few moments, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Finally, he speaks. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

It takes you a second to process what he’s said, and even with his drunken slur, the words make your stomach flip. He’s called you pretty before, in one of his many attempts to get you flustered. This feels different. More… intense, somehow. You think about how you look right now, slippers and sweatpants, still wearing his sweatshirt from earlier, glasses on from sewing, hair air dried and hanging over your shoulders. You certainly don’t feel beautiful.

“You don’t mean that. You’re drunk.”

He hums. “I do mean it. Love looking at you, y’know.”

Your head clears, and you realise you need to take this for what it is. Drunken rambling.

“Okay, Jake. You need to go to sleep. Have you eaten?”

He waves you off. “Yeah, yeah. Had dinner out.”

“Alright. Hop into bed. I’ll turn the lights off when you’re in and then I’m going back to my room.”

He scoots back up the bed, fishing the covers out from underneath him and cocooning himself. He’s still fully dressed, but you’re not about to offer to help him with that.

“You got an alarm set?” You ask him.

“Ah, yeah, think I do.” He digs his wallet and phone out from his pocket and from under the blankets to hand them to you. You place his wallet on the nightstand with his room key and plug in his phone, seeing the little alarm icon on the lock screen.

“Yeah, you do. 9am.”

You put the phone down and flick off the lamp, walking around the bed to get the other one.

You make a spur of the moment decision to grab him some water from the bathroom before you go. As you’re returning to the bedroom, you hear him from under his cocoon.

“Please don’t go.”

You sigh, placing the water next to the bed. “I have to. I’ve got work to finish.” You lie. “And you and I aren’t really on the best of terms right now. I don’t think sober you would want me here.”

He rolls over and frowns at you. “I would. Slept so badly last night without you. Got drunk, still couldn’t get comfortable.” You don’t say anything, so he tries again. “You said you slept badly too. You’ll sleep better in here, with me.”

You feel the same pang of warmth in your tummy before you scold yourself. He’s drunk. He already told you how he feels. You can’t let yourself feel anything more.

“Sorry. I gotta go.”

He grumbles again, and you switch off the lamp and make your way out.

When you get back to your room, the silver tray and cloche are sitting on the floor by your door. You pick it up and make your way inside. You sit quietly for a bit, picking at the cold fries, sipping directly from a mini-bottle of champagne.

You ready yourself for bed, putting on some music and snuggling down under the blankets.

As you close your eyes, you think about how he was right. 

You would’ve slept much better next to him.

Chapter 3

[enddaysengine]

Changeling the Lost Resources

This is a resource for all Changeling Storytellers and Players, in particular, those who are new to the Freehold. I've included a couple of non-Changeling resources that I think may be useful as well. If there is something you think should be included, please let me know what it is and why it should be on the list and I will take a look.

Hey! This post is designed to be updated as I find more resources! You can click here to get the most up to date version.

2e Changeling Core 2e

Condition Cards Dark Eras 2 - Arthur's Britannia - Mysterious Frontiers - Seven Wonders Hearts on Trial - Jumpstart The Hedge (forthcoming) Kith and Kin Oak, Ash, & Thorn Storyteller Screen & Companion

Consent in Gaming Google Forms RPG Consent Checklist (by @jl_nicegirl)

Dark Eras - A Grimm Dark Era - Beneath the Skin (blue-book) - Requiem for Regina - Three Kingdoms of Darkness Dark Eras Companion - Lifting the Veil (blue-book) Mortal Remains

Chronicles of Darkness

Olivia Hill's Changeling 2e Arc's Paris Freehold

1e Changeling Core 1e Autumn Nightmares Character Sheet [Free] Dancers in the Dust Dark Eras - Lily, Saber, Thorn Equinox Road Goblin Markets Lords of Summer Night Horrors: Grim Fears Ready-Made Characters Rites of Spring SAS - The Fearmaker’s Promise SAS - The Fearmaker’s Promise Compendium SAS - The Rose-Bride’s Plight Swords at Dawn Winter Masques Victorian Lost

Astral Realms Book of the Dead Glimpses of the Unknown

Bundles CofD Dark History Complete Bundle Starter Kit

Fiction Tales of the Dark Eras

Selected Vault

Book of Seemings Curiouser and Curiouser Bargins Lost Entitlements Vol 1, Vol 2, & Vol 3 Venice Unmasked Wyrd Tides

Actual Plays Hedged In The Littlebrook Reunion (The Primogen)

[ilovemarkhamill]

What's your favorite non-Star Wars Mark movie?

I’ve only seen Corvette Summer so probably that one! I enjoyed watching it haha 😆. I’d like to see “The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia” , “The Big Red One”, & ��Black Magic Woman”. I’ve seen the clip of him in “Britannia Hospital” though & he only gets like 5 seconds of screen time but he was really attractive in it. 😊🥰😅

[fragmentofmemories]

Since you reblogged that post about how it's ok to send you questions & statements 👀 I'll try asking a few!

a) do you draw traditionally ? if yes what's your favourite medium ?

b) do you have a favourite Touhou-related track/song ? or any recommendations ?

c) is there any voice actor you especially like ? (from any country)

d) is there a specific character or media you really like but don't make fancontent of (for whatever reason) ?

Feel free to only answer to the questions that interests you btw~

I feel like most of these answers are going to be boring because I'm somewhat neutral on these (lol), but I'll try anyway--

a) The answer is... Not really! I spent my earliest drawing years (2019-2020) using a sketchbook and whatever stationery I had. Nothing really professional or creative, just me practicing for the first time.

Which is to say I haven't drawn traditionally in a long while. As soon as I got my first and current tablet, I switched fully to Digital.

Although, that's part of the reason why I want to buy a new tablet with a screen (I don't really know what those are called).

It's not traditional, obviously, but I feel like it'd help me improve my drawing skills further. Also I need to switch my old tablet.

Don't ask me for any pre-2021 drawings btw. Besides being very low quality, I just don't feel like talking about them.

---

b) If you haven't listened to the Cafe de Touhou albums before, I'd definitely recommend those! There's 8 of them, each one themed after a different game, but they're all great.

As for official tracks, I can't say I have many favorites, but if I were to pick a few:

This might be a hot take of sorts, but music is probably the aspect that interests me the least about Touhou. By no means I'm saying it's bad, obviously. I'm just saying that, compared to the characters, gameplay, worldbuilding and everything else the series offers, the music never interested me as much.

---

c) VAs are something I haven't payed much attention to, unless it's someone very prominent in the field and you can immediately tell "Oh they hired X again for this character".

I'm guessing Johnny Yong Bosch comes to mind first when it comes to VAs, just because he tends to voice my favorites (lol). He's the current voice of Zero (Mega Man), and he also voiced P4 Hero (Persona 4), and Lelouch vi Britannia (Code Geass, also my favorite performance of his).

Meme answer, but I'd also like to add Carlos Villega for being the Latin American voice for Hisoka in 1999 Hunter X Hunter. I say it's a meme because, for some reason, he was given a French accent in that version and I can't think of him without it as a result.

1999 HxH's Latin American dub didn't age very well, but it's nostalgic to me nonetheless.

---

d)

Since I'm pretty much in a Castlevania mood rn, I have to wonder why haven't I drawn Shanoa yet?

She's one of my favorite protagonists ever (if not my favorite), her character is tragic and incredibly well written, and her design is just plain elegant.

Yet, I never stopped to think "I should draw her next", for some unknown reason. Perhaps in my spare time, while I'm taking a break off ODG, maybe?

Besides her, there are other characters I really like yet never drew before, which is to say Leif and Shanna (Fire Emblem), Kasumi Todoh (Art of Fighting) and Rei Reiho (Devil Summoner)

Lastly there's my non EO/CoH DRPG parties (I.E currently Labyrinth of Zangetsu and Stranger of Sword City). Drawing six characters at once takes a long time...

[autumnsorbet]

Arthur in his 30s (37 here ) in my au.

He was originally going to be holding a helmet I just never got around to design in the helmet so his arm is just in that position I was going to edit a helmet into it but I just didn't 😅

Arthur and Merlin haven't seen each other in years (12 at best )when she see him again he has longer hair and blue armor (looks blue on my screen but it may come off as purple to some )

they meet out side of Britannia arthur search for chos fragments (in my au merlin doesn't unlock chaos for arthur the lady of the lake dose but part of chaos gets taken by cath still so arthur and the knights of the round table go all over Europe to find the missing fragments of Chaos and Arthur

sends them off of the earth most of the time so people can't reclaim those fragments and use them for evil

Arthur at one point cuts half his power of chaos he has left in half he realizes that chaos is to much for one person so he use chaos that he separated from himself and turns part of it into a celestial power that he then gets tonight's and people around the kingdom to help protect Camelot

And has seal place in anyone he gifts it to so they want be corrupted by it

[drtonykeen]

In week 2 of my MANCENT Screening Britannia course, we're looking at screen portrayals of Julius Caesar's invasion of Britain, with the case study being Asterix in Britain. You can still join the course and receive the recording of week 1.

[rolorules]

Random Rolo Ramblings 6: Kururugi and Canon

My intention was to write a few lines about the relationship between Rolo and Suzaku and post them around Suzaku's birthday. Well, it did not happen quite like that, but here they are. Admittedly, there is not really much to write about as far as the series canon goes, and here I would already like to digress a little: By '(series) canon' I mean everything that is officially part of the Code Geass story (people, places, events) as it unfolds in the TV series, not the recap films, which divert from the series canon and partly tell a different story. You can consider them a form of Code Geass elseworld or parallel universe/alternate timeline (apparently Genesic Re;CODE did that) or just see them as a separate movie canon which includes Lelouch of the Resurrection. (Correct, 'canon' is the second main topic of this article.)

As far as the Geass series canon goes, it certainly includes R1, R2 and also Akito the Exiled. I would also add the picture dramas, but that is a matter of debate and one could argue that their canonicity is not on the same level as that of the series' episodes. There are also the drama CDs, but, like I wrote before, these are just too far out there to be part of the official story. There may be official books that Sunrise considers canon, but my personal philosophy is that when we talk about films or TV shows, only what's on the screen is canon.

So what about Suzaku and Rolo? If we follow the show's internal chronology, they first meet in the final scene of Akito the Exiled. We get two reaction shots of Suzaku's face, first when Rolo enters the room, accompanied by the two Geass Order guards, then after he tells him that Charles has 'granted' 'Julius Kingsley' another audience. (By the way, look how tall he is in comparison to Suzaku. Must be the boots.) In both cases, Suzaku looks both quite angry and extremely wary. In the first case, Suzaku even makes a hard-to-define moaning sound that sounds both apprehensive and annoyed. In other words, he does not seem happy to see Rolo at all. He might be uncertain at first whether the rescue party are friend or foe, but even after Rolo has made it clear that they are on his side, he looks as happy as an employee who hates his boss and is told that he can go back to work now. This may have nothing to do with Rolo as a person, but with the unpleasantries that await Suzaku and Lelouch, but to me this look also says "Who's that creep they've sent to pick us up?"

Luckily, there are no hard feelings between Suzaku and Rolo in R2 despite this encounter, and this is obviously because R2 was produced before Akito. There is only one conversation between Suzaku and Rolo (and Villetta) in the OSI's secret control room, (which I have covered before, more than once, actually). While Rolo and Villetta have more or less always treated each other as equals, Suzaku clearly acts as the one in charge. Everyone is very polite, but Suzaku seems to be doubtful about the effectiveness of their surveillance, which triggers a response from Roll that makes him appear a little offendes, but secretly he is certainly worried that Suzaku might find out that Lelouch has regained his memories (and that he has changed sides). In a different world, to Star Trek, they may be friends, at least they don't hate each other, but in this situation, Rolo mostly regards Suzaku as a threat, which is why he even offers Lelouch to kill him. When Suzaku arranges a phone call with Nunnally to figure out whether Lelouch has regained his memory, Rolo thwarts his plans with his time-stopping powers. Apart from that, we see him giving Suzaku wary sideways glances, and that, to my knowledge, is about it. Not much, given the fact that older official artwork often shows Lelouch, Suzaku and Rolo as a kind of love-hate-whatever triangle.

What I would really like to know is what happened between the trio's journey home from Euro Britannia and Rolo's/Suzaku's arrival at Ashford. Didn't they have any conversation about 'Julius' resp. Lelouch? It would have made sense for Suzaku to brief Rolo about Lelouch's character traits so that he knows how to handle him and how to play the role of the little brother convincingly. Moreover, the Vincent's design is based on the Lancelot's, would Suzaku not be the perfect tutor for Rolo as a Knightmare Frame pilot? That would also explain Rolo's piloting skills. (Wouldn't it be fun if Lloyd was also involved? Maybe Rolo had a reason to call him "pervy four-eyes" in that infamous sound episode.)

Of couse there is that slightly weird scene in the second recap movie where Bismarck introduces Suzaku to Rolo (who is dressed like an accountant and looks as if he hadn't had any sleep for a week and not seen any daylight for a month, quite the contrast to his Akito outfit and posture) and Villetta. Here it is made more obvious than in R2 that Suzaku is in charge of the operation. In this scene it is also acknowledged that Suzaku and Rolo have met before, and maybe Suzaku's bad memories are the in-story explanation for Suzaku's so bluntly (and rudely) addressing Rolo's faulty Geass, which is one of the things I hated about this scene, the other one being Rolo's new alias ('Nebiros'/'Neblos'). Rolo's resentful look is more than understandable. I know why the writers made Suzaku say that: they needed a quick way to establish Rolo's weakness, but it still seems so out of character for someone like Suzaku. (I like Suzaku thanking Rolo for rescuing them better, even though he did not look particularly grateful when Rolo freed him and Lelouch from prison.) Villetta's defending Rolo and praising his skillfulness, on the other hand, is perfectly in character for her. Anyway, this scene does not contradict series canon, so I can potentially accept it as "this is what happened" to fill a gap in the story, I'm just not sure if I want to.

Which is why I am now turning to the readers. How do you personally deal with the canon problem, in Code Geass and otherwise? After all, reboots, recaps, remakes etc. are a pretty common phenomenon in the world of anime and elsewhere. Do you want to have a rigid canon or do you like to see alternate/new/fresh versions of the same story? What is your personal Code Geass canon, the two seasons of the TV show, Akito, the recap films, Lelouch of the Resurrection, the mobile games? Please let me know and thank you for reading all this, these articles are called "ramblings" for a reason.

P.S. Sorry for mostly using screencaps that I have used before.

[yurisorcerer]

pbptptpbptptptpbpbpbptptptptptpppppbpbpbhph.

Okay.

So! Code Geass: Lelouch of the Re;surrection, huh? Took me five years to get to it. I do not know what I expected. This was not nearly as bad as I feared but also not as good as I hoped. I guess I'd say it's good as a movie for huge Code Geass fans, but it also kind of walks back some of the core ideas of Code Geass as a series, so Hm.

Like, ok, let's just start with the premise. The very idea of Lelouch coming back to life after the end of the series (or rather the alternate continuity to the series as presented by the Lelouch of the Rebellion compilation movies), is already a bit wonky. If Code Geass works on any level *thematically,* it's because Lelouch, as the 99th Emperor Britannia, dies. He dies not because it's necessarily the right thing to happen to him *morally,* but because he knows he has so much blood on his hands that he can't live with himself. It's suicide-by-Suzaku. That's how the original series ends.

Here, of course, he is just back. In of itself, that would be fine, but everyone is SO accepting of it SO quickly. There's a couple quick scenes of Kallen crying over him and Suzaku beating the ever-loving shit out of him (he deserves worse honestly), but for the most part everyone is completely happy to start taking orders from History's Greatest Monster again. With some of these people, like Cornelia and even his own sister Nunally, this kind of strains credulity. Especially with how the latter goes out of her way to exonerate Lelouch of any wrongdoing and blames herself for not truly understanding her brother's motives. I'm sorry, like, I've seen the show. That's just kind of bullshit. Lelouch's motives were *extremely* selfish and the fact that he never told Nunnally what he was up to was kind of the whole point, he didn't respect her as an equal, and just thought of her as someone he needed to protect. Due to, you know, pick one; misogyny, a generally privileged upbringing that may have rubbed some concept of noblesse oblige into him, ableism, the fact that he's a smug bastard who assumes he knows better than everyone, etc.

The unfortunate thing about the movie, though, is that Lelouch Lamperouge is cool as shit and it's really fun to watch him do anything.

Where it gets brought back, at least for me, in spite of all these flaws, is that I do just pop when Lelouch is on-screen Doing His Thing. C.C. has a fantastic little exchange with him when he gets discouraged late in the film where she talks about how she wants to see the arrogant, unwavering Lelouch. That's a good moment and it's pretty in keeping with their relationship, but it's also a sly nod toward the fourth wall I'm pretty sure. Unfortunately, to some extent, I will just watch this fucking bastard with his fucking hair and his fucking cloak and mask and his fucking violet shoujo manga-ass eyes and his fucking fruity little hand gestures whenever he talks, play everyone like a fiddle yet again while making grand pronouncements and saying "checkmate" unironically when he's got someone cornered even though no one has ever played a game of chess on-screen in Code Geass that made a lick of sense.

There are certain characters that just have such unreal amounts of charisma that watching them do basically anything is fun. (The voice acting in this thing is magnificent, of course, and helps sell that. I'd listen to Fukuyama Jun read a phone book.) Lelouch is one of those. If I'm any Code Geass character in spirit, it's Tamaki. Any time Lelouch puts on the Zero mask I scream and point at the screen and go "that's my man right there!!" like we're close personal friends or something. It's a disease, and I have to live with it. God forbid I ever get super into UC Gundam, I don't know WHAT I'd do if I ended up being like this about Char.

Everyone else returning from Code Geass proper has at least one really good moment, too. Kallen, Suzaku, and C.C. predictably get the best of them and the new characters that are introduced as their antagonists are, at least, very strong. The way the middle east is portrayed in this movie is WILD problematic, but a side effect of how Code Geass tends to write its antagonists is that at the very least the antagonist characters here have actual, like, human motives, and Lelouch's opposite number Shamna is a worthy foe; he does of course beat her but it's really down to the wire. Lot of good mecha fights in here, too, with Kallen and Suzaku both getting a lot of good screentime doing what they do best. There's more CGI than I'd like (CGI can work very well in a mecha anime IF the mecha are designed for it, but Code Geass' largely were not and you can tell), but not enough that it saps the movie of its dynamism, so, full marks there.

And then there's the ending of the movie which, hmmm. Basically, indirectly, the film makes C.C. x Lelouch canon, and in the postscript they seem to have formed a Geass Master power couple (complete with a very sharp gothic lolita look for C.C. that is absolutely fabulous. Lelouch's new outfit in that sequence is pretty snazzy too). I know Suzululu was always the more popular pairing (at least I've always gotten that impression), but I think this actually mostly makes sense, and I think they look good together. OTOH, Lelouch---sorry, he's going by L.L. now---seems like the sort of person who has a lot of different people in his life without necessarily being *totally* bound to any one of them. Maybe that's my own polyamory coloring the text, but it didn't feel exclusionary to me.

Anyway, yeah. Kind of betrays the spirit of the original a little bit but as far as being essentially a fun fanservice movie it was pretty good. They're making more, I'll probably watch those, too, especially if Lelouch continues to be cunty in them.

[scotianostra]

On June 6th 1987 we lost a great Scottish actor, when Fulton Mackay passed away.

Fulton Mackay was born on 12 August 1922 in Paisley, he was trained as a quantity surveyor and, during World War II served with the Black Watch. When he was demobbed, he decided to become an actor and trained at RADA, from 1949 he was a member of the Citizens Theatre Company where he worked with Duncan Macrae and Stanley Baxter.

He can be seen in many old British movies and had guest roles in many famous British television shows, becoming one of Scotland’s most versatile and best-loved character actors.

His best known role, of course, was as his namesake, Senior Prison Officer Mackay in Porridge, his break into the nation’s consciousness however, might have been very different. He was seriously considered for the role of the fourth Doctor Who after Jon Pertwee’s departure. The role eventually taken by Tom Baker.

With Porridge it is well documented that Fulton could be quite irritating to the other cast members as he was such a perfectionist. He was constantly wanting to try scenes again and again. It has to be said, however, that this fine attention to detail paid dividends, as his performances were always flawless.

Mackay developed a movie career post-Porridge appearing in Britannia Hospital, Local Hero and Defense of the Realm . On the small screen other roles included Z Cars, returning over several shows, but as three differing characters, he played Keir Hardie in a 70’s mini series called Shoulder to Shoulder, Special Branch, Crown Court and two Scottish series, The Master of Ballantrae and Rob Roy. Many of you younger ones out there might recall Fulton Mackay as Captain, in our own version of Fraggle Rock.

On this day 1987 Fulton Mackay lost his fight against stomach cancer, he was 64.

[librathefangirl]

Bleed This Water

ao3 (2k+; One-Shot)

Meliodas’ hand shot out almost instantly, grabbing hold of Ban’s arm as he bristled at the jeer. He had a point of course. Even if King in that moment wished he would have just let Ban fall for the apparent provocation. He shoved back the mental image of Diane’s upset expression at insults like that and focused back on the matter at hand. The captain was right. The last thing they needed right now was a bunch of dead villagers. Especially ones who were only armed with… water? Febuwhump 2023 Day 12: "Can you hear me?"

Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Blood and Injury, off-screen deaths of unnamed characters.

Another canon-divergent story. No specifics, just the fact that the Sins know about Meliodas being a demon.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

They’d barely left the village before they were stopped by five men. By the looks of them, King would say they came from the village he, Meliodas and Ban had just left. They were blocking the path. Four of them were carrying heavy buckets while the man in the front had his arms crossed over his chest. He sneered at them; his nose raised in the air. These guys clearly had a problem with ego. From where King stood, they didn’t seem to have a lot to back that attitude up with. Meliodas moved forward slightly, standing a few steps in front of the others.

“Do you mind?” Ban asked, his jaw painfully taut. King knew it had to kill him to not just throw them into the forest and continue their way. Honestly, he would let him. Today had been exhausting. He didn’t have the energy to deal with stupid villagers trying to prove something.

“Actually, I do, monster,” the man in the front spit out. Venom laced the word and King was instantly on high alert. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of the reputation the Seven Deadly Sins had throughout Britannia; seven sinners, that’s what King Bartra had foreseen. Maybe these guys were after more than just proving themselves – or proving themselves in a different way.

Meliodas’ hand shot out almost instantly, grabbing hold of Ban’s arm as he bristled at the jeer. He had a point of course. Even if King in that moment wished he would have just let Ban fall for the apparent provocation. He shoved back the mental image of Diane’s upset expression at insults like that and focused back on the matter at hand. The captain was right. The last thing they needed right now was a bunch of dead villagers. Especially ones who were only armed with… water? They were armed with water. Killing them would be, well, overkill. Were they seriously confronting three Deadly Sins with nothing but water? They might not have worn their armor right now, but still… Yet, no matter how King looked at it, that was the only answer he found. The clear liquid in the buckets had a sharp and somewhat sweet smell, but it seemed to only be water.

The man to the leader’s left shifted from foot to foot, his gaze darting between the knights before him. He bit his lip, the water almost spilling from his bucket as he changed his hold. King noticed how Meliodas’ gaze flickered to the bucket. In contrast to King’s confusion at their weapon of choice, a realization seemed to pass over Meliodas. For the briefest moment, King watched as his eyes widened and he staggered backwards several steps – then two buckets worth of water hit them.

Ban’s affronted cursing cut off sharply when Meliodas screamed.

King had known Meliodas for years, had been in more fights and battles with him than he cared to count. He had never – not once – heard him scream like that before. The sound sent ice through his veins. Ban seemed equally frozen to the spot, both of them staring at their captain shocked.

The villagers took that moment of distraction to throw another bucket of water. This one was solely aimed at Meliodas. The water hit its mark before either King or Ban could do anything to stop it. Meliodas let out a new set of screams. Somehow, they sounded even worse than the first. Meliodas collapsed to the ground, shaking arms covering his face.

King sent Chastiefol forward right in time to shield Meliodas from the third and final wave of water as Ban pounced on the attackers. King ignored the sound of fighting – slaughter – as he kneeled in front of Meliodas. His hand hovered over his shoulder, unsure whether or not to touch him.

His skin looked like it was steaming. Blood speckled his arms as his skin looked raw and burned. It wasn’t lasting, thank goddess. The injuries were quickly healing, leaving only the blood and the memories. His screams still echoed hauntingly in King’s mind. Meliodas still hadn’t moved from his defensive position though. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as his whole body seemed trembled. King was almost scared to know what kind of damage the water had done to his face. What the hell had just happened? He’d thought it was just water. Strangely smelling water, but still just- Shit!

It was holy water. The realization did little to ease King’s horror. It all made sense now. The villagers had seen them fight and must have figured they would have to be demons because of it. Something that would merely have been an annoyance – and really? The demons had been sealed away for 3,000 years now – except Meliodas was a demon.

Okay, it wasn’t actually “holy water”. There was no such thing. Meliodas had actually looked quite miffed at the idea that something like prayed-upon water could bring him down when the subject had first come up. Holy water was a stupid notion created by humans who had never even seen a real demon. It was a fairy tale for those scared of the horrors of the shadows, for those who wanted to believe that a prayer could protect them from the demons should they ever return.

No, given the smell, this so-called holy water came from The Pond. King didn’t know its actual name because it lacked a name in the common language – and well, Meliodas obviously didn’t speak the language of the goddesses. Either way, it was a revered pond in the Celestial Realm, the water of which had been blessed by the Supreme Deity herself, and therefore held destructive qualities against anything impure. Or so the legends told. King didn’t know how much of that was actually true. It wasn’t like he’d ever had the chance to ask any goddess about it. According to Meliodas though, the pond was considered so sacred that I hadn’t even been considered as a weapon against the demons. If it had, perhaps the ancient war would have gone down a lot differently – or maybe not. King doubted even a pond like that had enough water to stop an entire race.

King wasn’t entirely sure how exactly these buffoons had gotten their hands on water from the Celestial Realm, but he supposed the old shaman that “heard the voice of the goddesses” maybe wasn’t as crazy as he’d been deemed by the rest of the village. Not that any of it mattered anyway. What mattered was Meliodas – who still wasn’t moving!

“Captain?” King asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He quickly removed it again as Meliodas let out a sharp growl. A warning. Meliodas folded into himself; his arms disappeared from his head and instead dug into the earth before his knees as he tucked his chin against his chest. King still couldn’t see his face. Meliodas’ bangs hang down, hiding him from view. King could see his lips pressed tightly together though. The skin around them covered in small bloodspots. It was probably healed by now. Meliodas’ arms almost looked uninjured at this point. King didn’t know what to do; he should be fine by now! Another growl sounded. It soon tampered off into a whimper. King turned and shouted over his shoulder.

“Dammit, Ban, stop kicking the dead and help me!” his voice cracked at the end, desperation seizing his throat. Meliodas was supposed to be fine by now. At least by the looks, but this was holy water – or whatever you wanted to call it – were the effects graver than they looked? Was there something King was missing?

“What’s happening?” Ban asked urgently as he ran over to them. He was covered in blood that wasn’t his. He kneeled by Meliodas as well, and just like King was stopped in his approach by a low growl. This one louder – less warning and more warning!

“I- I don’t know?”

“Hey, Cap’n,” Ban tried to get his attention but refrained from touching him. “Can you hear me?”

Meliodas didn’t respond. He just folded even more, until he was practically touching the ground with his head. His hands dug even deeper into the earth and – darkness flared around them. It was only for a fraction of a moment, but it was enough for both King and Ban to notice it.

Well, shit.

Ban rose to his feet, basically lifting King by the collar of his clothes. He took a couple quick steps back and then unceremoniously dropped King to the ground again. The fairy wasted no time flying into the air, sending him a sharp glare. Only for a second though, before his attention was back on their captain.

“It’s okay, Cap’n,” Ban said as more darkness flashed from Meliodas hands. Some of it even travelled up his arms. King shifted a little in the air, gaze flickering between Meliodas and Ban. He didn’t know exactly what had gone down in Danafor, but he knew how destructive that dark power could be.

At least, the reality of what was happening filled King’s mind and suddenly it all mad sense. The holy water itself shouldn’t have been enough to incapacitate the captain like this. It hadn’t been enough. The water had startled him, injured him, even caused him to collapse. It would have been a quick recovery, but… It also triggered him. Triggered that underlying demonic defensiveness. And with the pain and the injuries and the situation and- His control had slipped.

He hadn’t growled to keep them away because he was hurt. He was scared that he would hurt them.

Okay, now that changed everything. King threw a quick glance at Ban, bracing himself a little before asking, “Do you need us to leave?”

“Like hell we will!” Ban shouted immediately. Yeah, he had figured he wouldn’t agree. Idiot.

“I wasn’t asking you!” King snapped back almost as quickly.

So, maybe King let himself get baited by Ban as they continued. Maybe Ban let himself be baited back. It wasn’t like the small argument back and forth that broke out was either of their intention. Maybe a part of King had hoped for just that. It felt normal, expected – as safe as anyone could around Ban. It made King forget himself and how suffocating the whole situation was. He didn’t feel tense, he just felt annoyed. For a moment, it was just him and Ban going at it again. Any second now the captain would-

It was as if someone hit the balloon with a nail. He and Ban deflated at the same time. The guilt seeming unanimous between them. When King turned back to look at Meliodas with flushing cheeks and a hammering heart, he could swear the captain’s mouth had twitched. Just the slightest bit for the tiniest moment.

"You want us to leave?” There was no way Ban would actually do that, but the fact that he was even asking was telling. Meliodas shook his head. A small, but oh so noticeable motion. King felt the air rush through him. They both stood still, watching him for a bit longer.

When his fingers uncurled from the ground, they approached him again.

“Can you hear me, Cap’n?” Ban asked again, as he crouched beside him. Another motion, this time a nod, and King let himself really feel the relief. “Good.”

Ban punctuated the mutter with wrapping an arm around Meliodas. The captain let out a small yelp as he tumbled backwards, falling against Ban’s chest. Ban kept him there and used his other arm to turn it into a full embrace, propping his chin on the captain’s head. King finally got a good look in his face. By the blood left, he was almost glad he hadn’t seen the initial damage. As it was, King was just happy to meet the green of his eyes once more.

“You okay, Captain?”

Meliodas’ gaze flickered around them; “The villagers?”

King rolled his eyes. He probably should have expected that.

“Dealt with,” Ban muttered darkly behind Meliodas, who actually had the audacity to sigh.

“That-”

“Was self-defense,” King finished. Meliodas raised an eyebrow at him. Okay, yeah – King didn’t care if he’d had a point this time. Those guys got what they had coming.

“They tried to kill you,” Ban pointed out. His tone wasn’t harsh, but Meliodas’ gaze still fell as his smile slipped.

“That wouldn’t have killed me,” Meliodas mumbled, falling quiet for a moment. “We should probably head back now.”

King nodded his head, regarding the captain briefly, “You good to walk?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” Meliodas immediately insisted and jumped to his feet. To his credit, he didn’t waver. King shared a glance with Ban as Meliodas dusted the dirt of his clothes. Between Ban and Chastiefol, they could handle it if that turned out false.

“Home we go then,” Ban hummed.

[haydenigmatic]

I'm sorry i always get so excited when people mention the ck games since none i know talks about them, what currently going on in your playthrough?

Worry not as I do as well, I love the load screens, the art is quite amazing, what am I saying the whole game is amazing, as for what's currently happening on my playtrough.

I wanted to recreate, to an extent the events of my story with the Dracarions as for now, is centred in the first rulers, planning on expanding as Kings of Brittany and West France, having married my heir off to a princess of Wessex as the only child left, she will rule, so my grandchild will unite them under my house, and I'll continue with the expansion to create the empire of Britannia.

Having married three times, the first one was not planned so I killed her off, sorry, and then I wanted to marry on of the Karlins but the one I wanted was married so I went for the younger one, firs as lovers and guess what she had other lover 😫 and had a babe with him, but made her pass as mine, then she died and I went for her sister, the one I originally intended to, cause well her husband had died under mysterious circumstances and had like 12 children with her.

I am playing like a really sadistic and ambitious ruler, like even my children are terrified of me!, so life's good for now, till my dynasty rules the world and factions are more faster to create against me.