#shes got a northern irish accent too ;-;

[walking-loather]

ALERT LEVEL CATASTROPHIC: my nurse is preedy

[emptymasks]

i got to see hadestown on the west end and all i have to say is AAAA. i liked the original broadway cast so much i didn't think anything else could compare to me, but omg they were all amazing and maybe it's a bias from seeing it live vs seeing broadway through recordings, but i actually enjoyed them so much more. i think what helped is i felt a lot more for donal's orpheus, whereas reeve's never managed to really put at my heartstrings.

okayokay what i have to list out loved (going to try and go through the show chronologically):

la barrie's hermes using no titles and they/them pronouns. the lyrics were changed to reflect this eg "excuse me, hermes" instead of "mister hermes" at the beginning of 'wait for me', and "feathers on their feet" instead of "feathers on his feet" in 'road to hell'.

the cast keeping their own accents. it's not often in uk theatre to hear british regional accents, even if the actor has or had that accent. so hearing a nothern accent from eurydice was aaaa. as a northerner it made me really happy. i'm not sure if that's grace's real accent or not but aa it just made .

donál keeping his irish accent too. and the chemistry between his orpheus and grace's eurydice was adorable.

hermes slowly kissing persephone hand during 'our lady of the underground'.

PERSEPHONE didn't think I could love anyone more than grey but omg. i've never loved "our lady of the underground" but I do now, the way gloria performed it and this one long belting note she did while bending over crazy far backwards aaa. and at one point while dancing she acted like she'd gone too hard and pulled her back and got stuck, but then very smoothly went into leaning down towards the audience and singing directly at people in the front rows.

wasn't 100% sold on hades at first since his voice isn't as deep as what I'm used too (used to listening to page as hades), but after "i conduct the electric city" and the lights went out and when they came back on there was a single silly spotlight on hades was stood leaning against the door checking his nails all sultry like. his acting was so different from what I'm used too, more energetic and more... playful? i'm not sure if that's the right word but i can't think of anything else. and less cold and stern than page but I ended up really enjoying him. i've got two very different versions of hades i love now.

new lyrics in epic three, "what has become of the heart of that man" has been replaced with new lyrics. i think "man with his arms outreached" has reverted back to pre-broadway "man with his hat in his hands" but i'll be honest me memory of what the new lyrics are is not great.

i cried when hades and persephone danced. both of them were crying. and when they finished dancing he sobbed and crumpled into her arms and she stroked his head and back and held him the whole time orpheus and eurydice sang "promises"

hades breaking it down during the dance, doing silly dance moves and making persphone laugh, and then she joins in and does his silly dance moves with him 10/10 people supporting their partners silly dance moves.

hades "i don't know" answer to if orpheus and eurydice can go... i'm used to patrick page's grave, defeated "i don't know" and here instead you could really see the inner conflict and he was holding hands with persephone and when he said it she angrily let go of his hand and he had his little "his kiss the riot" freak out.

orpheus and hades handshake during the wait for me reprise aaaa

[dearly]

[English transcription, three speakers not separated.]

“One of my childhood dreams was fulfilled yesterday. We’re standing in line to the bathroom, and this lil’ fart glides past, with hair and a Stone Island sweater, and I’m just like ‘was that Louis Tomlinson from One Direction?’“

“Stop.”

“And all us girls were like, Was that Louis?? And not to be that person but I’m The Directioner ...”

“I thought when you started talking that this was going in a very different direction, cause when you said a lil’ fart I thought you meant those guys from Fort Boyard that run around and show you their fingers.”

“Why would two Frenchmen come? And wave at us in striped sweaters?”

“Stop though, Louis omg.?

“Get this, I stood, yesterday, and had a conversation with Louis for a solid 30-40 minutes. Just us two.”

“Stop! Stop!”

“Was that at this party?”

“Yeah, in the end, around the middle of the party they started getting people out because there were too many people around, la la la--”

“What was the selection like?”

“He had to sing WMYB to get to stay?”

“No that was me singing--- I don’t know how we were still there but we were. So it turns out he’s standing there with some guy friends and doing shots or toasting or something, and me and my friend were like, we have to do something. I have to talk to Louis, just because, when do I ever see someone from One Direction?

“So I walk over and I’ve been drinking a bit because I’ve been upset because my phone was stolen, la la la, so I just head in there and toast them and say 'Cheers, me man!' an absolutely bizarre icebreaker, and he talks like this [imitates] and like a Northerner accent. So we talk about that, and then I started singing Irish folk songs--”

“Of course you did.” 

[talking about Irish folksongs]

“And he was just like--what am I supposed to do with this? And eventually we talked about The Smiths. Cause I can’t say that I know who he is, so I asked ‘What brings you to LA?' Cause you know, he was very rough, very rough.”

“Yeah, he feels very obsolete.”

"Incredibly so. And he had a giant Stone Island sweater, and at some point he was like, ‘I’m a nice guy!’ and I was like, no no, you’re like a hooligan!” And he was like, you know football? I love football! Cause you usually wear Stone Island when you get into fights.....But yeah, it was so nice and after that it felt like I did an exchange, someone got to steal my phone, and I got a solid 40 minutes with Louis.“

[some more talk about what they talked about, he could tell she was Swedish, they did some accent stuff. They get into a thing about how she was probably a breath of fresh air considering all the other girls that approach.]

“I was never a Louis girl though, have you heard his X Factor audition?

“Oh, he’s the worst!?”

“Was he so hot that his crow voice got him through?”

[playing TXF audition] [laughing and talking about his hair etc.]

[cryptid-killjoy]

After a lovely evening with his husband, lovely. Lovely. Flotsam's mind started to realize a part of them was always Valerie and just like parts of Flo remained in Val, Val's manner of speech/thinking was still in Flo. He did. He had a god damn lovely evening with his husband before packing for Ireland. Now he remembered why he missed having a dick though. How lucky was he to experience his handsome husband every way possible?

He woke in a good mood. Even going back to bottle mode didn't feel as intense as it did the first time now that he'd gotten to switch back and forth. There was a safe feeling in knowing all he had to do was take off the necklace if Valerie really needed to. All Flo's little secret fears and true wishes were out of the bag so to say and Thomas and his wolf helped put Flo at ease there too. Halloweening was on the list of to dos. So Flo wasn't freaking out. Everything was going to be okay no matter where in the world they were. He still wanted to get away after all he'd learned of himself in the middle of what else had been stressing him. So he was back to escapism mode with the vacation wanting to get away, but really, it wasn't so heavy anymore. Thomas was still being the fix it guy for him and all it took was a conversation he never wanted to have.

The first thing Flotsam did was start to write a list of things he wanted to do before leaving Ireland. Order mattered not. He found the basics, as far as basics go for him. He isn't the sort to want to tour every damn castle in Ireland or anywhere else in Europe. But, Blarney Castle he'd go for.

"Babe. So fair warning. I'm taking the kids to carry out their first felony. We will accomplish a family heist at the Blarney Castle and steal plants from the Poison Garden. Goals. I have them."

Go to Blarney Castle

Kiss the Blarney stone

Steal plants from the Poison Garden

The Northern Lights

See The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Grand Opera House in Belfast ((because it has to be fate that's playing while they're there))

The National Leprechaun Museum

Titanic Museum

Goals indeed. "Northern lights. Pretty sure there's somewhere in Ireland you can see them. I so wished you were there when I got to go to Alaska. I wished it the whole time we were staring at the sky. Not that I told anyone this back then because I was still in young crush me who refuses to tell anyone I like you in that wayish. But, we can see them in Ireland too. Even better. Your green world. Meant to be. Has to happen."

He was googling things on their way there, in parking lots, in lines, sitting around waiting for flights, all those boring moments he took his moment to play tourist. He spoke as they were on their way to the rental.

"Rocky Horror is playing at the Grand Opera House. Feels like an authentic Irish experience to me." He laughed having a hard time picturing Rocky Horror being done with Irish accents and couldn't help not smiling. "Leprechaun museum for cheesy pictures with the kids and Titanic Museum for morbid pictures of us having fun taking end of ship movie photos at what's essentially a memorial of dead people's things drudged up from bottom of the ocean, Captain. Gotta love capitalism." He said with his own cheesy grin.

He grinned over at him when he called him Captain remembering their date on the boat. He really liked that. "We should buy a boat. Also this is the last trip without Pippin. I'm getting her a damn plane for real. The one I would have ended up getting Chip. I halted on that because of his zombie-thing worried that maybe he shouldn't be flying around after all wings or not. But, Pip's still clear headed. If anything they can fly together and she can take over if he zombies out."

They were building an air strip out in Nola. It's all Feral now. They were probably never going back any how. Time to consider where to keep a private plane elsewhere.

When they finally pulled into the rental and Flotsam got to see where his escape was going to be he smiled. It felt like something Thomas would pick.

"Look at you giving us the real deal experience, Cap. This is so great. Perfect for all of us." He kept picturing him with the sea behind him. Something kept making his mind go back to that date. He remembered how Thomas looked with the blue waves of adventure behind him. But, he really did like the privacy there. With the triplets he liked their own space. He'd accept the maid service for the time being. Flo's one of those people who would rather do something himself than have people near him sometimes. So, it would be no wonder if he ever called them off or put a do not disturb on the property as a whole because fuck people. No maid outfit required for Thomas. It would probably weird Flo out if he did.

"Oh, you know what else I want to do at some point? Go to the rebel poet's pub. James Clarence Mangan. I don't know the name of it. But, I know it's in Ireland. I'll find it if I look it up. But, I heard he haunts a pub in Ireland. I'm going to find out if it's true." Leave it to Flotsam to want to go get autographs of dead celebrities, not live ones. "Maybe Leap Castle, but only because I know it's like one of the hauntedier ones and I would love to see the murder hole, but really. I don't need to see every castle in Ireland, ya feel me?"

Then right as he said ya feel me as he walking through the quaint style cottage of neutral colors he spotted the prize winner of the property. The ocean.

"Oh!"

It was ocean front property. Flotsam started to glow. He didn't need River's inner physical glow to see this beaming straight from the inside out. He stopped yick yacking and his whole face lit up.

"Oh my fucking a-hole. Look at that. Look what you did. We are sitting next to the ocean. Like... on purpose. We can just walk outside and it's... it's right there." He pointed out at it over top of the stroller he'd been pushing. "Right there." He jumped enough to where both feet came off the floor and knees rose waist high. His feet in those heavy kicks stamped back down. "Right there, Thomas. It's right there. Real ocean."

They didn't have to get into a car and drive there first, get the car and go home after, consider the light of day, or night, length of travel back for drying off, cleaning up, anything that beach brings on. It wasn't a lake shore. It wasn't a river's shore like on the old Mississippi. It wasn't a swamp. It was a real life ocean shore.

"Right. There." He kept pointing.

[britishaccentcharacterpoll]

Special mentions...

Submissions are now closed and round 1 of the polls are about to go live, but before we start I want to shout out to a few people who submitted things that didn't make it to the lineup but deserve mentioning:

The literal VERY FIRST submission I got was for The Queen since "shes dead and only appears in history books now does that count", thank you for making me laugh with that lmao

Person who submitted Kravitz from TAZ, yes I am a TAZ Balance enjoyer but I had forgotten about the whole thing with Griffin attempting to do a Cockney accent for him and then giving up, I decided not to include Kravitz because his accent is basically fake in-universe and you only hear it for like a couple minutes but it IS funny so thank you for reminding me of that lmao

Person who submitted "Monty Python", I agree they should be acknowledged as iconic British accented funny guys but those aren't characters mate. Maybe if you submitted one of the characters from one of the Monty Python movies I would have accepted it but really they're all just always playing themselves lol. I do love em though and they deserve mentioning

And finally, one person submitted Ted Hastings from Line Of Duty and then backpedaled and said he would hate to be called British but he deserves a mention - well, although I would like to have included a Northern Irish accent like that in my poll, I decided not to since he himself (and presumably his actor?) doesn't consider himself British, but here's your mention :) (I've seen a little bit of that show and I do think Ted seems pretty great too)

Also I'm really sorry to everyone else who submitted characters who didn't end up getting included in the poll! I just had a few too many to fit in and had to make sacrifices, but thanks for your submissions anyway I really appreciated it :)

[hogwartslegacyrp]

QotD 2: How does your character speak? (Pitch, tone, volume, accent)

Feel free to answer these with your own OCs even if you're not on our server :)

Bjorn:

He’s got a proper and professional manner of speaking to his students, and most of his colleagues, understanding English, and other languages, well enough, but doesn’t have a firm grasp of idioms or slang, outside his native tongue. He’s got a gruff, baritone kind of voice, with a slight Northern European accent, and his voice carries due to its volume and pitch.

Anemone: Most of the time she tries to not have too obvious an accent- but it's still there, so you can usually tell she's Irish rather quickly. She speaks fast. Like way too quick sometimes if she gets excited about things, and may have issues with volume control at times. She may also be very hard to cutoff- because once she's started she just doesn't. ever. stop. Pitch wise it's not too low nor too high- it's actually quite pleasant if you get her to sing. Getting her angered or flustered will also likely make the accent stronger.

Selene: From accent alone, anyone can tell she’s a London girlie. Since she grew up speaking more Taglish (Tagalog+English) her accent would slip if she’s a bit stressed, angry, or something surprises her. Due to her shyness her voice is normally soft and sometimes hesitant when it comes to something new. When she does gain more confident or in more 1-1 conversations her soft voice is more upbeat and casual. When it deals with more professional manners, she goes monotone and formal. This happens often when she’s in MoM for her father. Selene gets curious often so her head tilts and her voice gets into a higher excited pitch, a bit of a comforting sound. She tends to hide a lot of her laughs so it tends to be a bit of snickering or light chuckles. When she’s truly passionate, her shy personality seems to flip and her soft voice becomes more hyped with a more teethy smile that comes with it.

Samuel: Sam’s voice runs a deeper tonally and he has a slight drawl thanks to his farm upbringing. It’s taken him some practice to liven up his speech to maintain his charismatic aura, but he can use the deepening of his voice to his advantage as he wishes. He’d very much have one of those laughs where they look like they’re dying from a laughing fit but it comes out completely silent. He speaks just slightly faster and higher pitched when trying convince everyone else (including himself) of things that aren’t true.

[the-mother-of-lions]

Passive aggressive reminder that BBC or whoever the fuck didn’t let Colin keep his Northern Irish accent while playing Merlin.

Katie got to keep hers since she’s not That Kind of Irish.

Because having Merlin be from Northern Ireland was “pushing the boat a bit too far”, as Colin said.

source - there also used to be an actual video interview with him saying this exact thing but i haven’t seen it in a long time

[eroticcannibal]

Even in the US, how pale you are is not always an indicator of whiteness. My bf is Sicilian (like. Mom came here when she was pregnant, technically an anchor baby Sicilian, not great-grandfather came over in 1912 Sicilian) and he's pale af BUT. He's got dark hair, dark eyes, and "ethnic" looking features. And usually he's fine. He's "white enough" to only get harassed by cops when they mistake him for Middle Eastern (it's the beaky nose that does it, I think. Literally no one in the US knows what various ethnicities actually look like - they just know what Doesn't Look White and make wild guesses from there), but also? In a room full of Bubba types? In the Deep South, where we live? He does not count as white. It's subtle (unless he disagrees with someone) and he's certainly higher up on the totem pole than a Black guy or somebody with an Hispanic-sounding last name, but STILL. Having a non-English/Northern European surname + Mediterranean features is enough to get him singled out.

I'm like 99% certain this wouldn't be a problem if we didn't live where we live. People who cry about "Irish oppression" and "Italian oppression" like that's been a significant thing in living memory are 10 times out of 10 racist pigs trying to distract from their own bigotry. But like. That does not change the fact that even in the US, surname, accent, etc play a significant part in whether or not you're perceived as white. It is not all down to skin color.

Finally some fucking nuance!

"They don't look white" and making guesses from there is how I see a lot of the """racism against white ppl""" work. Like theres enough going on to set off the not white alarms and thats enough for racist white ppl.

And all those things u mentioned would easily be enough for him to not count as white over here too. Man would be lumped in with the 2 indians in the village down where I live.

[fighterkimburgess]

I'm not trying to defend the anon, but reading through what you shared about Irish people and discrimination, the post specifically says that Irish people experienced racism, not discrimination.

And they've also used a GIF of WOC talking about someone calling her a Paki and her telling the white man he doesn't know what it is like, but the white man says he does know because he's Irish. He really can't understand.

But I do appreciate you discussing what Irish people have been through, especially since I am an English WOC and this is something I was unaware of.

A lot of that tumblr post is from 2012, which is probably why they use the term racism, although I don’t want to speak for anyone who posted, a lot of the blogs are long gone (the copy of it in my likes is from 2013, for context!). What I will say is that under some definitions of racism, it’s “the systemic oppression of a racial group to the social, economic, and political advantage of another” (Merriam Webster, Definition 2)

The discrimination against Irish people in the UK until probably the early 90s would have counted as racism. Irish people who moved there generally lived in worse housing and didn’t have a lot of ability to mix with English people (the rise of Anglo-Irish and London-Irish centres that still exist today are vestiges of this). They generally were employed in what were considered the worst jobs - builders, domestic servants, factory workers - and it was rare for them to rise above entry level work. Domestic workers in England (and the US) were often called a “Bridget”, because employers didn’t care to learn their staffs names, Irish people were just interchangeable. And anti Irish sentiment still draws political belief. Just look at former Home Secretary, Priti Patel, saying that if Ireland didn’t support the UK with Brexit negotiations they would threaten our food supply. For a country who was complicit in An Gorta Mór, that’s disgusting to happen. It did meet the standard of racism, but as now that term is more used to mean between people of different skin colour, I didn’t want to use it here, which is why I used discrimination.

At the time Bend It Like Beckham was released, we were about five years after the Good Friday Agreement. Peace was fragile. And the white character in those gifs, Joe, is an Irish man who grew up in London. He got the slurs thrown at him too, because when he was growing up he heard it all. He was called a Paddy, and judging by his accent probably a t*ig. You still see bonfires in Northern Ireland with ��kill all t*igs”, or “K.A.T” on them.

That’s what it’s about. It’s about empathising with someone and you may not know exactly what they’re going through, but you’ve been through similar and know what it’s like. It’s not meant to belittle Jess’s (the woman in them, whose full name is Jasminder) experience in the slightest, it’s supposed to let her know she’s not alone. And in context it does!

If it was released today I’d agree it’d be pretty tone deaf, but for 2002 it was spot on. I do appreciate you coming here openmindedly, and thank you for the ask.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

His Dark Materials S2E2 - Some fangirling/thoughts!

Again, I’m doing bullet points because I’ll be rambling! Also, I will add a read-more once I can get on my laptop, I’m just typing on my phone right now to save time.

Lyra wanting to wear a cape and hat and Will being like “nO”

Also Pan’s little “well, what does HE know?” And his little red panda (I think) form is so adorable omfg

Will: Pan has to go in this bag // Pan: Lyra, tell him no // Lyra:... // *two seconds later, cut to Pan in the bag*

Lyra’s “sorry” and Pan’s absolute disgust of being forced to hide in her bag 😂

The fact that Lyra, within two seconds of reaching our world, got nearly hit by a car

Will: *checks Lyra is okay* Come on. // Pan from in the bag: yEAH I’m okay, thanks for asking!!?! :/

Honestly, just Lyra reacting to our world is so precious and good, I love it

Pan peeking out of the bag so he can look around at everything, and the painted statue man having to do a double take at the fact this girl has a ferret/ermine in her bag

Lyra just pushing past people and knocking them over in her haste to go to where she thinks Jordan College is

Will patching up Lyra because her knee is grazed :3

Lyra asking what Will’s mobile phone does though 😂 and when he tells her that he can looking things up on it, she’s so excited because “I have something like that in my world but BETTER”

Also can we please talk about Will’s lockscreen photo of him and his mum 😭

Lyra talking about how she “betrayed” Roger 😭 no honey, no, your father is a POS it’s not your fault

“There’s a Botanical Gardens in my world too” - UMMMMM!!!! Foreshadowing!!!!

Will saying they should meet at the botanical garden as well 😭

Poor Will just wants to look out for his mother :(

The fact that Lyra went to a history museum because there’s an exhibit of the north there, and Pan is like “I do NOT like this place”

I can’t believe she took the damn alethiometer out in public in a museum?! Like surely just to be safe, you should do it somewhere way more private and less public?

When she bumped into Boreal, I tensed up so hard oh my god, nothing even happened and I felt so nervous, please do NOT trust him, Lyra

Oh my god it’s Mary Malone!! And she’s got an Irish accent?!?

I had NO idea that Dr Lanselius (I probably spelled that poorly) was the son of a witch?? And that just makes so much sense now, like oh my god

I find everything about the witches and their customs/traditions so interesting, so I really loved hearing him start to explain how the witches know so many things about the universe that the magisterium never could, and about how Magesterium have to travel to the lands where no dæmons can go, hence why they can go so far from each other

Mrs Coulter’s face when they were saying about witches abandoning their children / “what kind of mother abandons their child” thing oh my good god

No don’t throw him in prison?!! He was literally there just to try to broker peace on behalf of the witches, what the fuck-

I’m just laughing at how Lyra barges straight into Mary’s life and immediately just overloads her with all this information 😂 I know the alethiometer said not to lie but it’s just the way she totally went in without hesitating

The way Mary Malone took a huge bite of that stale chocolate biscuit and then spat it right out was beautiful

Actually seeing the whole thing with Mary’s computer and seeing Dust visualised has made me understand it WAY more instead of just reading and trying to imagine it to be honest, it’s making it somewhat clearer to me, and now I’m so interested in that side of things too

The whole communicating with Dust scene was so beautiful oh my goodness I love it

I’m out of touch with the series because I still need to reread the second and third books but what the hell was Father MacPhail doing with that candle?!

Like is he punishing himself because of the whole “necessary sin is still a sin” thing?

Will’s grandparents - well, specifically his grandfather - are kind of extremely shitty oh my god, who the hell calls the police on their own grandson?!?

IS THAT THE BENCH. THE BENCH?!? 😭 I’M CRYING OH MY GOD

“I like it here” - IM GOING TO CRY AGAIN JESUS CHRIST

Okay but DAMN Mrs Coulter is serving some DAMN looks this episode. Her funeral outfit? *chef’s kiss*

The Magesterium are fucking awful, as if we didn’t know that already, and bombed the witches I’m so angry-

Can we talk about the cinematography in this episode?? In this whole damn show?!? ART. LITERALLY POETIC ART

MRS COULTER KNOWS LYRA IS IN A DIFFERENT WORLD OH SHIT

Another moment of appreciation for RUTH WILSON OMG, she’s so iconic and I love her, she’s so amazing in this show

You CANNOT just end the episode there, WHAT THE HELL?!

There’s probably a lot of other things I’m not talking about but URGH I love this series so much and I’m now going to spend the evening before bed (early start tomorrow sadly) reading the Northern Lights graphic novel.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evelyn Doyle

Basics

Full Name: Evelyn Rose Doyle

Birthday: April 22, 1984

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Powers: Wielder of the Flaming Sword granting her super strength, agility and healing, the gift of Sight (the ability to see one’s true form, i.e., a human’s soul or a magic’s creatures true face), and mastery of light magic

Appearance

Ethnicity: Irish

Skin Tone: Pale with freckles

Eye Color: Dark Blue

Hair Color: Light red

Hairstyle: Long and curly, usually pulled into a braid while on a mission, but otherwise down

Makeup: Natural

Build: Curvy and stronger than she looks

Height: 5’ 6’’

Style: Light colors favoring a girl next door aesthetic

Personality

General Personality Traits: Compassionate, Loyal, Self-Sacrificing

Strengths: Empathy, Determination, Reliability

Flaws: Stubborn, Self-Doubt, Narrow Minded

Habits And Mannerisms: She often fiddles with her neckless when she’s nervous or thinking, hums to herself, hair twirler

Secrets: Lost her virginity to when she was 17 to a boy from a different school, they weren’t even dating at the time; she felt so guilty after she didn’t tell anybody for years

Regrets: Allowing herself to be controlled by so many people for most of her life

Skills/Talents: Skilled artist, she likes to sketch and paint in her spare time, talented swordsman, can read Latin and speak Irish, and has a nice clear singing voice

Likes: 60s and 70s Rock, the smell of clean laundry, clear nights full of bright stars

Dislikes: Math with anything involving letters, dirty dishes left in the sink overnight, bullies

Guilty Pleasure: Playing music over the speakers late at night and dancing in the kitchen by herself

Defining Moment: The moment she realizes wasn’t chosen by the sword to strictly uphold the will of God. She is human and as a human, she has free will. The sword may have been gifted to her by God, but it is her choices that give it meaning and purpose. The sword is hers and no demon or angel can take it from her.

Relationships

Friends: Everybody on the Waverider, but she gets on best with Amaya, Sara, and Nate

Family: Michael Doyle (younger brother), Peter Doyle (father, deceased), Rebecca Doyle (mother), Ester Kelly (grandmother, deceased)

Enemies: Legion of Doom, Demons, and basically all the other baddies the Legends face

Rivals: More of a friendly rivalry with her brother when he starts dabbling in magic

Lovers: TBA (maybe John Constantine later, jury is still out)

Relationship Status: Single

Reputation: Mom friend of any given friend group she finds herself in, which unfortunately bleeds into her romantic relationships; has a tendency to attract men who are looking for a Mom rather than a girlfriend

Miscellaneous

Current Residence: The Waverider

Collections: Hair pins from different eras and countries across the timeline; she likes the artistry

Accent: Irish

Voice: Clear and soothing

Signature Quote: “Have a little faith.”

Song: TBA

Backstory

Evelyn was born to Rebecca and Peter Doyle on the border of Northern Ireland in 1984. Her family was decidedly Catholic, and raised her that way from an early age. She was a very loving child, ready to curl up with her parents and seeking their approval, which they gladly gave.

When she was five years old, her brother Michael was born. From the second they brought him home, Evelyn understood it was her duty to be his big sister. She helped feed and change him. She helped him to walk and to talk, and did her best to look out for him. This was widely encouraged by her mother, but her father tried not to put too much pressure on her. She was still his little girl, and he wanted her to make sure she was allowed to stay that way. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last.

In 1992, her father was killed in a bombing. He wasn’t taking part in the protest, simply walking to work.

Her mother was left devastated, going essentially catatonic for a full year after. Their grandmother, Ester, came to live with them during this time. While she did look after them, and loved them dearly, it was clear her main objective was to look after her daughter.

Evelyn took over watching after Michael. She walked with him to and from school. She made breakfast and lunch boxes. She made sure he did his homework, and picked up around the house. She had a sense that she had to cause as few problems as possible for her mother and gran, and so did just that.

When her mother became more functional, their gran moved out of the house, but stuck close by. Still, her mother was never quite the same. She was often forgetful, and Evelyn was left to pick up the rest.

Michael didn’t make it easy. While he wasn’t a bad kid, and loved her like mad, he would often get in trouble at school. More than once he picked fights with bullies or would say something in class that would get him in trouble. Evelyn always covered for him, talking to the teacher, or erasing the messages the school sent before their mom listened to them.

Michael in turn, tried his best to look after his sister, usually in the form of trying to fight boys twice his size when they made on off color joke. Or nicking some candy from the corner market when she was having a bad day.

They continued like this until she was old enough to go to college. She entered wanting to get a degree in child psychology, with the idea of becoming a school consular or family therapist. However, she never got the chance. During her second year of grad school, her gran died leaving nobody to look after her mom.

She came back home with the idea that as soon as Michael was out of college and got a job she’d go back to school and finish her degree. So, she took a job in a customer service call center and helped look after her mom in the meantime.

She ended up staying there for six years as her brother tried and failed to land a secure job. He never seemed to be able to hold down a position for more than six months and would use the time in-between to run minor cons or commit petty theft. Evelyn soon became a regular face at the police station, continuously bailing him out for small time crimes. Eventually it became too much.

One night, after getting him out for breaking and entering, she let it all out, telling him how tired she is of him expecting her to hold the bag while he gets his life together. Michael didn’t take it lying down, countering that she expected him to drop everything to look after a woman who didn’t even raise them. They kept arguing until Evelyn stormed out, needing to clear her head.

Eventually she found herself at the local church, and took a place in the back to think and pray. As she did, an old man she didn’t recognized approached her. He was dressed as a priest, and Evelyn assumed he was new in town. He then asked her what she prayed for, and she explained the argument she had with her brother, and all that had led to it. The priest nodded and asked her if she resented God for putting her through these trials. She answered with confidence that God would not present her with any trial she could not overcome.

Pleased with her answer, the priest showed her to the back and to the hilt of a sword displayed beneath the crucifix. He instructed her to take the hilt. When she did, she was hit with a vision.

In the vision, an angel pulled her soul from her body and cast it into a fire, but rather than burn it shone brighter, extinguishing the flames. The angel then returned her soul, simply stating that she was satisfactory. She woke up on the floor of the church, the hilt of the sword now possessing a perfect bright blade.

The priest explained the sword was the famed Flaming Sword used to guard the garden of Eden. He said her story led him to believe she had all the qualities required of the wielder; faith, compassion, and sacrifice. The vision she had was the final test of her true self, which she had passed. He instructed her to follow the will of the sword, and said it would lead her to where she was needed most.

Armed with this new sense of purpose, Evelyn ran home and tried her best to explain to Michael what had happened.

Michael assumed she went mad and tried to get her calm enough to go to a doctor the next morning, but Evelyn refused. That night, she packed her bags left without a word.

She spent the next six months traveling from monastery to monastery gaining knowledge and instruction on how best to use the sword and the powers that came with it.

And it is in one of these monasteries, Rip Hunter finds her and asks if she would like to join him on his mission to save the future.

[brilliant-poses]

Night of the Coyotes

When Dutch Van Der Linde first began to expand his gang, a group of bounty hunters rose to stop a lot of gangs from becoming too big and powerful. The bounty hunters were a successful group, but the Van Der Linde’s and the O’Driscoll’s kept avoiding the rope. You are apart of the bounty hunting group, the Coyotes. You and your older sister, Pride, have been in the group since you were children. Now, you’re faced with the challenges of hunting down each member. When things get out of hand, do you stay loyal or decide a different life?

Chapter 2 - The Town of Blackwater

══════════════════

“We should ask everyone, not just one person, Pride.” You reminded, beginning to kick the dirt at your feet and move towards the grass, where the others were camping. There was a lot of talk around the camp, mostly because everyone had heard the Van der Linde gang were near. Every bounty hunter in the family wanted to catch them. For some, it was a personal reason, while the thrill of the hunt persuaded them to go after the gang. There were a few different women who worked in the gang, some being close friends of Vivian’s while others joined later on. Pride sighed and walked towards the cooking tent. A chubby woman hummed loudly, beginning to cut meat into bits and preparing it with seasonings.

“Alina! You need anythin’ from Blackwater?” Pride called, causing the woman to yell in surprise.

“Oh, you scared me, Pride! You silly girly! Yes, I do! Give me a moment!” She said with her heavy accent, wiping her hands off and going towards a journal to write down a list. Alina Kruger was basically the one who kept women alive. She was a German immigrant, traveling here when she was about twenty and managing to keep herself afloat, thanks to a bakery business she worked for. She joined the family when Vivian had suggest she come with them, tell her it would be adventure and cooking, two things Alina said she wanted in life. Alina had platinum blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, her eyes were round with joy and she looked so innocent. Her cheeks were always pink and her smile was absolutely wonderful. Her hair was normally tied back in two braids, her saying it was a normal German style.

“Here you go!” She said and handed the list to you.

“Thanks, Alina.” You smiled as she giggled lightly.

“Thank you! I did not want to go into town today, I have much to do!” She said and patted your head before shooing you two out so she could continue to cook. Pride as about to go towards her horse before you grabbed her braid.

“That’s not everyone, Pride.” You reminded, tugging her over towards some more tents, causing her to cuss and hiss in pain. You let her go once you’re sure she’s not going run towards her horse. You glanced around and saw a few of your sisters. Virginia Ross, Mary Mantle, and Yolanda Romero. As you stepped closer, you can see the details of what they’re doing get better.

Virginia was from New York, she was from a rather rich family, but she gave that up when her daddy tried to make her marry someone. She told him she wanted to do whatever she wanted, saying she didn’t need money. Virginia had only been with you for a few months, but she was a good member. She had dark brown hair and vibrant green eyes, she was a rather cute individual. Mary, on the other hand, was a cold blooded individual. Her parents were murdered by robbers and now hunts for the hell of it. She’s a little younger than you, most of the hunters were, but she did what she needed to. She had pale skin and dark blonde hair, her eyes a dark brown. She had a large scar that ran across her cheek and a few others over her body. She was a force to be reckoned with. Yolanda was a mystery. She was fun and always had stories of Mexico, but never spoke about why she wanted to be a bounty hunter. You all enjoyed her, with her dark skin and dark, black hair. Her eyes were actually a lighter brown, which made her emotions show. She was probably the best hunter you had, besides Pride.

“Hey girls, you need anything?” You asked with a smile, looking towards them. The girls glanced up, stopping their weapon cleaning to think for a moment.

“Gun oil.” Mary said after a moment, going back to cleaning. You quickly wrote this down on the paper that Alina gave you.

“Get us some more ammo too! My shotgun is getting low.” Virginia said, her northern accent punctuating every word. You glanced towards Yolanda after you wrote ‘ammo’ down, noticing her grin.

“What do you want, Yola?” You asked, the Hispanic woman letting out a loud sigh as she thought.

“Oh! If you find a tambourine, get that. I love tambourines.” She smiled again, making Pride roll her eyes.

“Is that essential for your hunts?”

“Well, we make noises like coyotes, so yeah. It’s to make noises!”

“You’re the reason I go solo.” Pride said and flicked her nose, causing Virginia to giggle.

“A tambourine… We’ll see if we can find one.” You said, causing Yolanda to let out a yell of excitement. You and Pride nodded them goodbye and went towards the tent closest to the entrance of the camp.

“Zotova! Liu! The fuck y’all want from Blackwater?” Pride yelled, forcing you to hit her and shush her. Zotova didn’t even look up from her writing.

“Four journals, three pencils, and hand these out.” The Russian said in her broken English, handing you a few papers with their bounty hunting on it.

“Put them in stores and sheriff’s office.” She said, leaning back to take off her small glasses. Zotova Stanislavovna was the person who helped bring in the money. She was in charge of receiving bounties and giving them to Vivian. She did her job well, but being a Russian immigrant, she couldn’t speak the best English. Some of you had to be there to help her explain herself. She had only been in America for about a year, but everything was falling into place for her. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, who wears glasses a lot of the time.

“I don’t want anything.” Liu said, smiling towards you two. Liu Shun was another hunter, an expert animal hunter, as well. She was the best at long distance shots and tracking. She was a Chinese immigrant, who’s parents worked tirelessly on the railroad. When her parents were killed in an accident, due to the horrible conditions they faced, Liu found your family and requested to help make things right for people like her. She had a good mission, but you were concerned on how people would view her. She had short, her black hair and brown eyes.

“Isabella doesn’t need anything, does she?” Pride asked, referring to the woman who took care of the horses.

“No, she’s fine. She hasn’t mentioned anything.” Zotova said, waving them off. You and Pride nodded, walking towards your horses to see the red head taking care of the animals. Isabella was the kindest soul you had, orphaned at a young age, she’s been in the gang with you and Pride for a long time. She and Brigit was close, the Irish woman who was close to Vivian. The two red heads bonded over their love for horses. You and Pride mounted your horses, not noticing Isabella walking away to grab more hay. She was quiet, so it wasn’t the most surprising thing that she did. She was sweet, but very to herself.

“You ready, Peppercorn?” You asked, patting the Gypsy Cob. He was the best horse you had, the black and white painted horse was the most loyal horse you could ever have. Pride’s horse was a large, white and brown Shire named Sunshine. She named her that since she’s the most hot tempered horse in the entire camp. You mounted Peppercorn, listening to him pant lightly in excitement. Your spurs jabbed into his side and you began to ride off next to Pride. Blackwater wasn’t too far away.

══════════════════

“I can’t believe we’re having to be maids and get shit.” Pride said as she let Sunshine trot in the street. You were sighing lightly, rubbing your face when she complained.

“Come on, Pride. Let’s just get the stuff. Let’s go to the general store.” You offered, listening to her grumble lightly. You and Pride hitched your horses outside the general store, heading inside after you got off the horses. You opened the door, hearing the bell ring and the store clerk greeting you.

“Welcome, ladies!” He greeted, causing you to nod in a greeting. You began to gather the few things that Zotova wanted.

“Pride, go get what Alina wanted from the butcher. I’m going to go get the ammo and gun oil.” You said as you paid for the items, handing him the paper for your bounty hunter family.

“Hang this up.” You said softly and left with Pride. When you were putting the items in your saddle bag, Pride whistled towards you. You looked towards her and saw them. Arthur Morgan and Hosea Matthews.

“Good morning, ladies.” Hosea greeted, knowing exactly who you two are.

“It was.” Pride hissed, glaring towards Morgan, who scoffed.

“We heard you boys were here. We were trying to find you.” You offered Hosea, who chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, we figured. You ladies are very good at what you do.” He said, causing you to nod.

“Y’all are too, for criminals.” You said as Hosea laughed.

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” He said, gently hitting Arthur to make him stop glaring at Pride.

“We’re just here to gather supplies. You gonna try to get us?” He asked, causing you to shake your head. You hit Pride after a moment, seeing her reaching towards her gun.

“We’re here for supplies too. It would be stupid to start shit in the middle of the street. We’ll come for y’all soon.” You explained, causing him to nod.

“Thank ya, ladies. You have a good day now.” He offered and waved slightly. When they trotted past you, you heard Arthur and Pride exchange words.

“Heartless bitch.”

“Tiny dick Morgan.” With that, Pride took the list and stomped towards the butcher while you went towards the gunsmith. You were going to have to tell Vivian about this, but you weren’t going to pursue them. Not yet. It would be dumb to. Pride was hot headed and wanted to kill Arthur Morgan so bad that it consumed her. You were her calm, her reason. You had to show her that the time would come. As you entered the gunsmith’s shop, you knew it was going to be a long day.

[yespolkadotkitty]

So, I love FB!Pero and I cannot bear to let him go. I'd love some HC's for Pero's life before he met Jade. What was he like? How did he meet William? What prompted him to make his axe? Has he ever loved before? I must know everything about him! What does he think about in his quiet moments? He is both an enigma to me but also truly gentle man in his soul.

Gif by the lovely @beccaplaying

- So we know that FB!Pero trained as a blacksmith in the small town where he grew up in Southern Spain, until he was scarred by the baron whose daughter he loved.

- The scorned, scarred Pero leaves his hometown, young, angry, full of frustration and hurt. At the docks he finds work as a sailor, and takes the first boat out of Spain. He doesn’t look back.

- In England, he falls into sellsword work, first as more of a packhorse than anything, but gradually, after taking part in fight after fight and winning small bets and then larger ones, he becomes skilled in swordplay.

- Years pass, and in time, Pero recieves word that his mother and sister have fallen ill. He travels home to find they’ve passed from a plague sweeping the country. He buries them by the farmhouse they’d lived in, his childhood home, and he prays over their graves. He has no interest in taking over the small farm.

- The next ship out of the port also carries a good-natured Irishman offering a new adventure, something to take Pero’s mind off the loss of his family.

- He tries to exhaust himself; not think too much. At one time, he prayed a lot, for his soul, but since becoming a sellsword he’s done too many things to ask for absolution. And he long ago sold his mother’s rosary for food during a particularly hard winter.

- Sometimes he thinks of the girl whose father scarred him; if she was right. If he really is just a common, crude brute with nothing to offer. The women whose company he pays for at taverns squeeze his biceps appreciatively. Some enjoy his accent and dark looks, but most women avoid him. He tells himself he doesn’t mind. Perhaps love, a family, those things aren’t for men like him.

- There was a woman once. A tavern keeper in a Northern town, a woman who gave as good as she got between the sheets, but her husband returned from war after being thought dead, and Pero didn’t fight for her. Perhaps he should have, but leavng is easier, isn’t it?

- William makes a good travelling companion. Good-natured, hardly complains. Talks a lot, but Pero tunes it out when he wants to. The only thing that grates is how handsome the Irish bastard is. Women aren’t afraid of William; they love his open friendliness. Pero is more used to sulking in the corner with a tankard; paying for a woman to warm his bed.

- Perhaps the black powder will be a way to buy a higher status for him. The key to every counting house in the world.

- But deep down he knows he doesn’t need money. He only needs what he’s been chasing since he was a callow boy. Love, acceptance. But since those things have alluded him, he focuses on things within his reach.

- By the time he meets Jade, he’s resigned to live without love, without that softness. Little does he know, his entire world is about to change, irrevocably - and he’s going to love it.

Tagging the Pedro pals: @heatherbel @alldatalost @songsformonkeys @gamingaquarius @jaime1110 @dornish-queen @keeper0fthestars @thegreenkid @alwaysbethewest @abuttoncalledsmalls @chews-erotically @mrsparknuts @starlight-starwrites @lackofhonor @knittingqueen13 @mrschiltoncat @buckstaposition @cryptkeepersoul @a-seeker-of-imagination @nelba @phoenixhalliwell @alienprincesspoop @agirllovespasta

[casualmaraudering]

a meet-cute drabble for @wolfywordweaver who needed cheering up ignore that im like 90 hours late and also who for some reason likes my awful prompt ideas enough to turn them into fantastic fics, ily!!

***

“Sirius! Honey, come here, will you? I need someone to show Remus around!”

Sirius - 21 years old, soon to start his last year of his BDe in illustration, dreams of one day opening his own tattoo parlour, and helps out his adoptive parents in their animal shelter whenever he’s not in classes - is currently battling a very stubborn Husky going by the name of Kettle. Just so happens it’s the week of bathing all the dogs, and Kettle would quicker chew through the lock on her kennel rather than surrender herself to Sirius and his (evil, apparently) bath sponges.

“Your lucky day, girl,” Sirius says, exiting the kennel, making sure he’s taken all the bathing supplies with him - they wouldn’t last very long if he’d leave them alone with a pup Husky. “But I’m not done with you!” he eyes the dog, who barks at him. Cute, that one, despite being hellishly stubborn. “Just you wait, we’re getting you into the bath today if it’s the last damn thing I do.”

“Sirius!”

“Coming, mum!” he yells back, finds a cloth to quickly wipe his hands (there’s fur just about everywhere, and the fact his preferred colour of choice is black doesn’t help - he looks like a cheap rug), and runs to the front of the shelter.

With James and his broken leg (Sirius had almost nothing to do with that particular accident), their parents need someone to help Sirius out with running the shelter: a full-time employee rather than a typical volunteer, til James can come back and resume his usual role. Sirius vaguely remembers mum telling them over dinner that a friend of hers has a son (or was it a nephew? Or cousin?) who’s willing to help out.

Somehow, she forgot to mention he’s hot. And exactly Sirius’s type, too. And that’s something Sirius would’ve loved to know beforehand, so their first meeting wasn’t with him covered in dog hair, wearing one of his oldest, most worn out t-shirts, and with his hair up in the most unattractive up-do known to mankind.

“Oh, there you are!” his mum, currently talking to Curly Hair And Freckles, waves him over. “That’s my other son, Sirius. If you’ve any problems or issues, if you’re not sure what to do - he’s the one to talk to. Sirius, be a darling and show Remus here around.”

“No problem at all,” Sirius smiles charmingly (it would’ve been more charming if he didn’t have dirt on his cheek). “I’d shake your hand but it’s bath day and I’d rather not get you dirty.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Remus says - his voice is warm, with an accent Sirius can’t quite place. Northern Irish? “I don’t mind getting a bit dirty.”

Sirius blinks, losing his composure. This hot guy didn’t just flirt with him, right?

The tour of the building is very pleasant - and indeed, Remus seems to be catching onto Sirius’s flirting and flirts right back. Not that Sirius finds that particularly surprising (he’s aware of his appearance, plus he’s got a rainbow tattoo on his forearm, so him being gay isn’t much of a secret), but it’s flattering nevertheless, especially that Remus is very much what he’d look for in a boyfriend.

When they’re done with the tour, Sirius deposits Remus in the office to sign some paper; Sirius plans to go back to battling Kettle, but his mum stops him at the reception.

“He’ll fit right in, don’t you think?” she asks.

“Yeah, definitely. Seems to like animals, so that’s the most important.”

“His mum says he likes boys too,” mum flashes him a grin. Sirius blinks. “You two seem to be getting along. And Hope says he’s single.”

“Mum-”

“You like him, at least.”

“I do not!” She cocks her head and raises her brows. “Okay, maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean anything. You don’t have to go out of your way to get me a boyfriend, Ma. I’m fine.”

“You should ask him out,” his mum elbows him - he groans in annoyance, which just makes her grin harder. “There’s no harm in that!”

“Yes there is! I’m gonna work with him for two months! It’ll make things awkward and we’re here every day for seven to twelve hours.”

“I just want you to be happy, love,” she puts her hand on his. Sirius smiles - he can’t be mad at her, ever. “Give it some thought, okay? Remus is a very nice boy, I think you two would make a good couple.”

“I’ll think about it.”

*

Sirius is mid-way through scrubbing Kettle - who’s trying her best to get away any opportunity she gets - when the backdoor opens behind him.

“Need any help?”

He turns to see Remus leaning against the wall, an amused smile on his face (and a cute one, too).

“Would be lovely, yeah,” Sirius replies. He’d love to stare at Remus more, but Kettle almost slips past him, so he goes to stop her - he gets his whole shirt wet and soapy, but he can’t care by this point.

“Doesn’t like baths?”

“Hates them. Her name’s Kettle and I love her to death, even if she’s a bit of a goblin. Get the conditioner for me while you’re there, it’s on the shelf to your left. The sooner we’re done, the sooner she can roll around in the mud again.”

Sirius is extremely determined to ignore their hands brushing against each other through the whole process of soaping and then drying the dog. He’s also determined to ignore just how his stomach squeezes whenever that happens.

“You don’t happen to have a spare t-shirt, maybe?” Remus laughs awkwardly, pointing towards his chest. Just like Sirius, he’s covered in dog hair, soap, and water (Sirius refuses to let Remus’s shirt clinging to his body affect him. He’s not 17 anymore, he’s not about to get hot and bothered by something so stupid).

“Oh yeah, sure, in the staff room,” Sirius replies absentmindedly, grabbing the key to the staff room. His mum has probably gone home by now, so it’s best to have a key in case it’s closed.

He leaves the bath area (it has a more sophisticated name, but it’s not like he ever remembers it) with Remus behind him, going through the narrow corridors of the shelter.

“You’ll have to get used to the dog hair, I’m afraid,” he throws. “It’s always good to have at least one spare outfit in the locker. There’s very unfortunate accidents sometimes.”

“Oh, I know. I foster a lot,” Remus replies, once they’re inside the staff room. For the umpteenth time in his life, Sirius curses just how small the space is. “I’m quite used to having dog fur on me 24/7.”

“You’re a great addition, then,” Sirius smiles at him briefly, before going to dig through his locker. He picks one of the shirts he has he thinks will fit Remus. Although similar in height, Sirius thinks his shoulders are a bit broader, so it might end up a bit big on Remus still. “Hope you like Queen.”

“One of my favourite bands, actually.”

Sirius nods in approval, and tries to focus on changing on his own instead of staring at Remus. He mostly succeeds. But also confirms his theory that Remus’s entire body is covered in small freckles.

Once he’s back in clean clothes (or, well… relatively clean. His entire wardrobe has a permanent layer of dog hair on it), Sirius sighs and goes on to mentally slap himself for what he’s about to do. He’s either going to prove his mother very wrong, or have to deal with her ‘I told you so’ til his dying day.

“Are you free right now?” he says quickly, before he can change his mind. “D’you maybe wanna grab a coffee with me? There’s a good Italian place down the road. They do desserts, too, if you like sweets.”

Remus blinks at him, and Sirius is ready to regret all of his life choices and migrate to France, but then his mouth breaks out in a very gentle smile.

“Are you asking me out on a date, by any chance?”

“Would you be terribly upset if I were?”

“Well… you like dogs. You like Queen. You have long hair, which I’ve been told I have a thing for-” Sirius smiles at that, his hand brushing through his hair in response. “-and I’m very curious about that one Celtic tattoo. So… I’d rather be happy if you did decide to make it a date.”

“One question, though,” Sirius flashes his signature grin - and hopes Remus finds it at least half as attractive as everyone tells him it is. “Do you let people take you home on the first date?”

Remus raises his brows in amusement, but his smile doesn’t falter. Sirius feels his heart skip.

“If you pay for dessert.”

[weshallc]

Thank you so much for putting up with me, I feel back in a Bernie state of mind now (I was far too chilled). Let’s see where we go from here.

BERNS NIGHT (revisited)

This has been a Poplar-on-Tweaven production brought to you by the Crown Inn and sponsored by Mount Busby Farm based on original characters from Call the Midwife.

CHAPTER FIVE: Ae Fond Kiss.

“Who Shall Say That Fortune Grieves Him. While The Star of Hope She Leaves Him?” Ae Fond Kiss, Robert Burns 1791

“I Pictured A Rainbow, You Held It In Your Hands.” The Whole of the Moon, The Waterboys 1985

Bernie grabbed Val’s arm to steady herself. Paddy stood in front of her fidgeting with the cobalt blue fabric with a wide green check overlayed with a thinner gold and black one. His fiddling pulled at the kilt pin weighing the piece of cloth down at the knee. The tiny silver dagger bearing his clan crest caught the light from the hall where Bernie remained stood stock still in the doorway.

Paddy then reached for the frilly white lace jabot fastened around his neck, pulling at the lace with one hand, as if it was choking him. The other hand straightened the black waistcoat with the three silver buttons, matching the three on the sleeves of the Montrose jacket. They in turn matched those perfectly polished down the front of both sides of the centre of that waist length black jacket.

Bernie’s dropped jaw started to quiver as a chuckle threatened to emerge. Paddy shot a look of accusation at Val who intern nipped Bernie’s arm. Her friend regained her composure.

“I told you she would think I look ridiculous,” Paddy spat at Val as if Bernie wasn’t in the room. It was however Bernie who responded as Val’s confidence appeared to waver.

“No, you don’t. It’s just a bit of a shock. I am not quite sure what’s going on.”

“We..well some people thought it might be nice to put on a Burns Supper. Like we used to...before-” Paddy started to falter as he noticed Bernie’s eyes mist over.

“For your birthday.” Piped in Val, trying to help Paddy out and regaining her confidence. “I will leave you to it, I’ve left Jack behind the bar and well he is still pretty green, if anyone asks for a cocktail we may be in danger of losing our licence.”

On Val’s departure, Bernie moved towards Paddy. The forgotten scarf Trixie had placed around her friend’s shoulders fell to the floor. Paddy bent down to pick it up.

“Oops, be careful, good job there is no-one stood behind you.”

Paddy straightened up swiftly and stroked down the back of his kilt. Bernie allowed a relief filled giggle as she saw Paddy’s frown soften. Taking the scarf from Paddy, she sighed. The pattern matched the tablecloths downstairs. “My mother’s tartan, they haven’t missed a trick, have they?”

“Trixie was most put out when her attempts to discover the Mannion tartan drew a blank.”

“Mannion is an Irish name, sorry.” Bernie wasn’t quite sure why she was apologising for her name, but it felt appropriate.

“We all know that now,” laughed Paddy.

“How did you find the Home clan tartan?”

“Violet and Evie poured over hundreds of samples and narrowed it down to a few which they matched to old photos of Wilf’s kilt. They figured that was how the wily old bugger had got round it, using your mam’s tartan.”

“Everyone has gone to so much trouble, I feel like such a fraud. I just wanted an evening alone with you in Appleby Thornton.” Bernie blushed, feeling even more guilty.

Sensing her confusion, Paddy cupped her cheeks in his hands. “We can go out any night.” 

Bernie raised an eyebrow at Paddy’s optimism. Even though Jack had turned eighteen and could now serve behind the bar, Paddy still found it difficult to let go. Most of their evenings were spent working or propping up the bar.

Any further discussion of their work-play balance would have to wait. The sound of familiar footsteps running up the stairs alerted them their presence was required in the bar. Paddy and Bernie followed Tim into a cacophony of noise, the sound of fiddle, banjo and accordion mixed with laughter and the pounding of feet on the wooden floor.

Tim grinned and nodded as Bernie asked, “Isn’t that the Bridges that come in on a Thursday night?”

“Apparently, before they were married, they used to go to Scottish dancing on Thursday nights.”

Kevin and the Tweaven Folk band sounded like a group of musicians who were enjoying a successful long awaited reunion, rather than strangers that had only met a few days ago. Apparently Kevin didn’t just play the Bagpipes but was going to town on the harmonica.  Mac had found refuge in Reggie and had settled on a bench seat with the dog's head resting on the lad’s lap.

Alan Bridges and his wife Yvonne broke from each other and flew off in different directions to persuade, grab and drag the people sitting at the tables onto the makeshift dance floor. Fred was up first, taking hold of Vi who had pushed her nose out of the kitchen to sneak a peek at the fun. She protested, explaining she couldn’t leave her post, but Evie chased her onto the dance floor with a tea towel.

Bernie smiled at Patsy and Delia. She had never seen anyone quick step to the Gay Gordons before. Phyllis’ face was flushed as she tried to stay in time, partnered by a very light on her feet Lucille. Bernie grinned as Paddy dug his son in the ribs and Tim scowled, shaking his head in protest. Her smugness was short-lived when Alan Bridges took hold of her hand and dragged her onto the floor. She groaned to herself, realising she should have seen it coming. But she knew she wasn’t the only one who had been distracted and let their guard down. As Alan swung her around, she glimpsed a determined Yvonne pulling a very reluctant Paddy to the centre of the room. A massive cheer went up, and it wasn’t for his dancing prowess, but the first view of the crowd of Paddy in his Highland Dress.

Bernie couldn’t deny she felt a tingle as the lights dimmed and Paddy stood behind the tressel table. She could see how nervous he was, his thumb working against the forefinger of his left hand, the right hand turning over his phone on the table. Voices were hushed, sensing a level of anticipation in the air. She hoped he could see her reassuring smile. When he returned her wink she knew he understood.

Everyone instinctively got to their feet as the sound of the pipes flooded the room. Kevin slowly marched into the bar from the kitchen playing, Mac following at his feet, ears pricked. A few steps behind walked Violet, beaming proudly, carrying a silver tray with her pride and joy in prime position. She placed the dish in front of a very pale but focused landlord. Bernie noticed Vi gently touch Paddy’s hand after she had laid down her burden.

Paddy cleared his throat, and everyone sat. Bernie held her breath, she was relieved when he started reading from his phone in his own soft Northern English twang and didn't attempt a Scottish accent. He did struggle a little with more than the odd word and she noticed it was in parts an English translation of Burns’s Address to a Haggis. She did think her dad would be shaking his head and laughing if he was watching these antics held in his memory. As a shiver left her, she wondered if Marianne was also looking down with pride and amusement.

Bernie bit her lip. This was the difficult bit, if trying to read a 18th century Scottish poem out loud wasn’t hard enough. She knew from years of experience Paddy had to keep reciting while removing the Sgian-dubh from his woolly knee-length socks. He then had to pull the small dagger out of its black leather holder and plunge the blade into the Haggis at just the right moment in the text. She went to hold on to her chair but was surprised when a long thin hand grabbed hers. Tim’s hand was cold, but sweaty at the same time, and she squeezed it back.

The verbal response of the audience to Paddy whipping the blade out of its sheath made Bernie giggle, and she heard a snort from her neighbour. The following stab and slash into the unsuspecting pudding received equal responses of gasps and murmurs. She felt the boy’s hand slacken in her own and his breath released from his chest at the same time she let her lungs relax. Bernie felt Paddy was doing the same, pausing as the crowd regained its collective composure. He dared to give her a quick glance, and she beamed in approval. She wished she could go over to him and push back the wayward kink of hair that had fallen over his face during the dramatics.

Paddy finished the poem with ease following the tricky bit. He didn’t seem to mind stumbling over some of the unfamiliar words. It wasn’t like anyone was going to correct him. There was much relief all around when he finally toasted the Haggis, and everyone could raise the complimentary whisky they had been nursing since the beginning of the festivities. Not everyone had been patient and some found they were toasting with an empty glass, supping air. A nervous Bernie would have been included in this number, but Trixie had passed on her dram so she could at least properly take part in the toast. Paddy received a standing ovation. He wasn’t deceived it was for his faultless performance, but more for effort or maybe they were just hungry and glad it was finally over.

The assembled guests ate their fill of Scottish Fayre. The whisky sauce may have proved more popular than the spicy offal and oatmeal pudding. Although Violet did remark that Poplar’s vegan population had seemed to increase dramatically overnight. Buckle’s Breweries Burns Bernie Beers proved very popular. Ale Fond Kiss, Red Red Rose Ruby Ale and Auld Lang Stout all sold out.

The dancing recommenced to the Tweaven Folk band and its newest member. The Bridges and the lead singer tried to engineer a ceilidh of sorts. This resulted in a room full of mostly English people flinging themselves and each other about in an attempt at the longest communal twizzy world record. The highlight being every time Paddy spun around in his kilt, a large cheer went up as it splayed out.

Eventually he refused to dance and Bernie gave up too. She found him outside smoking one of her roll-ups. She just grinned, knowing he deserved one. Bernie hugged Trixie’s scarf around her.

“Aren’t you cold in...erm that?”

Paddy smoothed the kilt under him, between his bare legs and the cool wood of Peggy and Frank’s memorial bench. Bernie grinned and went back indoors.

She returned with two Abhainn Dearg malt whiskies and one of the tartan tablecloths. She wrapped it around Paddy’s shoulders before perching herself on his chilly knees, flipping his sporran up out of the way. Paddy took over the blanket duties and wrapped the cover round her.

Cold fingers fumbled over sharing the dying cigarette and they sipped from the same whisky tumbler. From where she had placed them, Bernie could only reach one glass without leaving the warmth of the tablecloth and Paddy’s arms. Paddy had long since dispensed with the faffy lace ruff and wore a cream open neck Jacobite shirt, again courtesy of connections of Patsy. As Bernie playfully twisted the string ties around the fingers of one hand. She slowly ran the fingers of her other hand along the hem of the kilt.

“Is this Turner tartan, then?”

“No, the Turners are from Liverpool, probably some Irish in there somewhere too, but my mother’s family hailed from Fife.” Paddy softly answered.

Bernie wriggled on his knee, trying to gain a bunch of the fabric of the kilt in her hand, as the band broke into Deacon Blue’s, Dignity.

“So which clan...ayyyyyeah!” She quickly jumped up vigorously rubbing the flesh between her boot and the hem of her dress on her right thigh. Paddy stared at her in confusion and concern.

“Something bit me.”

“It’s January.”

“Am I bleeding, is there a bump?” Bernie turned her back to Paddy and lifted up her skirt. Paddy started to wonder whose birthday it was. He used his phone as a torch and took his time giving a thorough examination of her right thigh. The eventual diagnosis was no injury to her person, but there was a nasty snag in her new-on tights.

Paddy also identified the culprit pointing to the clan dagger attached to the front of his kilt. “I think you sat on this?”

“You stabbed me.”

“You stabbed you.”

She leant down and carefully unfastened the pin from the front apron of the kilt. She recovered her position now free from hazards. Scrutinising the tiny weapon in her hands under the light of Paddy’s phone,

“Aww, the crest is the world below a rainbow between two clouds. What does the motto say?”

“At Spes Infracta.”

“Oooh, you're getting the hang of these ancient tongues, aren’t you?” Bernie giggled, “what does it mean in boring old English?”

Paddy, who had been laughing with her, fell serious.

“It means Yet My Hope is Unbroken.” He gently tipped her chin forward with his thumb and forefinger and kissed her.

“That’s beautiful.” Bernie caught her breath. “What was your mam’s maiden name?”

“Hope.”

“Home and Hope,” smiled Bernie, partly to herself.

Paddy reached inside his sporran and handed Bernie a small tartan box with a gold bow on top.

“But this was my present.” She smiled, pulling on his shirt strings.

Paddy shone his phone torch on the box as Bernie opened it and carefully took out a silver brooch. She got hold of Paddy’s hand and shone it on a silver V bending inwards to make the shape of a heart with an emerald at the base just below the Home clan crest.

“That is a very fierce looking lion, why am I not surprised.” Bernie didn’t need the torch to see the glint in Paddy’s eye as he spoke. “I nearly got you the Hope rainbow one instead....but I wasn’t sure.”

Bernie smiled, “Maybe next year?”

“You are still very presumptuous after all these years. This was a one night only kinda thing,” Paddy choked, then swiftly changing the subject, “I liked the motto on the Hume crest, anyway.”

Bernie was impressed with his correct Scottish pronunciation of Home. She read aloud the words around the lion's head A Home, A Home, A Home, that is the slogan, but the motto is actually True To The End .”

“Well, I think the matriarchy has it tonight.”

“Do you know Robbie Burns was a great supporter of women's rights as well as being a romantic? He wrote a poem about it.”

“From what I’ve heard, he was very fond of women indeed. Counting the number of children he fathered.”

“Yes, that as well,” muttered Bernie, “but just for tonight I am going to be Shelagh Bernadette Mannion-Home and you can be Patrick Turner-Hope.

The traditional music of the Corries was now interspersed with more recent Scottish poetry, as the band played tunes by the likes of Travis and Franz Ferdinand. The Proclaimers, I’m Gonna Be 500 miles, filtered through the door leading to the beer garden. The accompanying laughter, the sound of leather and man-made sole stomping on polished oak convinced the two in the beer garden they weren’t being missed.

“One thing I can’t get my head around is how Val convinced you to do this?”

“She just reminded me of every time you have stepped out of your comfort zone for me. How many times you have had to embrace a part of yourself that you didn’t know existed or had thought you had left behind.”

Bernie rubbed her thumb over the slogan on her new brooch as Paddy continued.

“Basically how many times you have put me, us, our hope of a life, a home together before the person who you thought you were and believed yourself to be.”

“Val said that?”

“Sort of, maybe a bit more colourful and there was some violence involved, but I did agree with the sentiment.”

“I think our mams would have approved of Val.”

“Are you true to the end, Shelagh Bernadette?”

“Well, you just better hope this isn’t the end, Patrick.”

The sounds of Auld Lang Syne filled the night and Paddy leaned forward for another kiss, suddenly aware Bernie had very cold hands and had chosen not to replace the kilt pin.

[lovinlikeloki]

The Lone Wolf (Intermission)

Masterlist // Act I Interview

Word Count: 1.9k

ROSE HARRIS, A COMIC FAN’S DREAM COME TRUE

- “I never thought I would go from Story of Miss Oxygen to this!”

BY FAITH PRICE

Going from small independent films to one of the biggest movie franchises is a dream come true, right? Well Rose Harris could certainly tell you. She went from being someone nearly nobody knew to one of the biggest names on our screens practically overnight. Joining the Marvel Cinematic Universe as the one and only Fianna MacBhfloscaidh, Harris has become an idol for many people very quickly.

While most people know her for her part in Captain America: Civil War which hit the silver screen only a few months ago on 26 April, Harris has been in a couple of short films like Story of Miss Oxygen and even portrayed the lead character in Daughter. She also has a main character role in a new Netflix series currently being filmed named 13 Reasons Why. Needless to say, Rose Harris is a very busy girl and I was very lucky to get the chance to interview her.

FAITH: WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO JOIN SUCH A FAMOUS FRANCHISE? HOW WAS THE RESPONSE TO YOUR FIRST BIG MOVIE BEING ONE IN THE MCU?

Rose Harris: It was amazing. Joining such a big franchise with a huge cast was very daunting at first, I mean these guys are practically a family so it felt weird and almost intruding at first. But then Lizzie came over and started talking to me, uh she reminded me she was in this place only a year ago and kinda eased me into meeting everyone. As for the response, it was huge, I mean my follower count skyrocketed within like a day. I never thought I would go from Story of Miss Oxygen to this! It was really exciting.

SO I HAVE TO ASK, WHAT WERE YOUR THOUGHTS ON FIANNA’S, AND YOUR, ENTRANCE AND FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE MCU? WHAT ABOUT FAN OPINIONS?

Well, personally I loved it, I mean it was- I think it was pretty cool that, um, they made sure that she knew Wanda and like the Maximoff twins beforehand, that was always going to be a big thing. I really liked it, it was fun and very Fianna, I think. As for the fans? It’s almost a 50/50 split when it comes to their opinions, especially the fans of the original comics.

As you’ve probably seen, Fianna’s entrance has a lot of parallels to Peter Parker’s who is also introduced in this movie, which is what divided fans. For, ah, Spideywolf fans, I believe that’s what they’re called, people who pair Fianna and Peter Parker together, they were ecstatic and love to point out the similarities. But then on the other hand, Silverwolf fans, people who pair Fianna and Pietro Maximoff together, they weren’t as big of fans of this. I think it’s because in the comics they were the endgame pairing.

YOU THINK THEY DON’T LIKE THAT THEY’RE NOT ADHEREING TO THE COMICS?

Oh for sure. I mean as I said, Fianna and Pietro, they... they- in almost every comic series you read with the two, they end up together and Pietro seems to be pretty dead right now in the MCU. He- with all of those bullet holes he looks very not alive [she laughs], at the moment. And so in their eyes this is Marvel and the writers straying from the comics, as you said.

I guess they’re now left wondering how far from the comics we’re gonna go, because I mean she’s already a mercenary. Before the names Fenrir or Lupine is even uttered, she’s a mercenary, with zero Wolves Den, uh, context. So many comics are being ignored at this point, and that’s even disregarding her mutant and X-Men origins.

YOU MENTIONED THE WOLVES DEN COMIC SERIES, WHAT IS YOUR THOUGHTS ON THAT STORYLINE? IS IT SOMETHING YOU’D LIKE TO SEE IN THE FUTURE OF THE MCU?

I think that Wolves Den is probably one of my favorites, if not my favorite Fianna comic series. It’s very, I don’t know how to put this, it’s very chaotic. I mean there’s three different storylines to follow, the romantic one, the team one and then the villain one.

You’ve got the romantic one, Fianna and Peter’s storyline, I mean Fianna... she really messes Peter up in this series, emotionally. She does cheat on him, they break up and then she gets together with Harry Osborn, I mean it’s so very messy. Then there’s the subplot where she leaves the Avengers, she breaks off not only from Peter but also from Natasha Romanoff who she is extremely close to in this universe, I mean they’ve got a mother-daughter bond. Instead she becomes a mercenary where she goes by the monikers of Fenrir and Lupine, going between the two to keep the team of heroes off her back.

And while she’s doing this she’s also fighting off a villain by the name of Discord, someone from Fianna’s past, who is trying to take over and attack the minds of people in New York. She does all this at the same time, and it’s just a very chaotic, discordant series.

WHAT DO YOU THINK WAS THE MOST DIFFICULT THING FOR HER IN THIS SERIES?

Definitely the way she has to balance all of this, I mean she has so many different masks and personas and she has got everyone fooled. With Peter she’s the remorseless cheating ex-girlfriend, for Harry Osborn she’s the new rebellious girlfriend, for the Avengers and especially, as I said, Natasha she’s a traitor who abandoned them.

Then she’s also got this act of being a good guy even with the mercenaries. She really walks that tightrope between good and bad in these comics and is really morally grey and quite neutral. And she does all of this because she’s trying to protect everyone, or at least that’s her mindset. She’s leaving the Avengers, leaving Peter because she thinks it would save the heartache if something were to happen to her.

I think this is where we see how different Fianna is from the Avengers, because we see that she has the most self-preservation instincts out of all of the Avengers. She is always about protecting herself, she knows that to take care of others she needs to take care of herself first but it’s getting a little warped in her mind when it comes to how to do that.Most of the Avengers work themselves to the bone, lookat Tony Stark and Peter Parker, their mental health isn’t great at the best of times whereas Fianna doesn’t do what they do. She knows she needs to take a step back sometimes to take care of her before she can do her job.

[Rose then seemed to realise how long she spoke]

Sorry, I sort of went on a tangent, I’m sorry. I just love the storyline. Though some of it is a little too dark for the way the MCU currently is.

DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, I’M SURE THE FANS WILL LOVE YOUR TAKE ON THE WOLVES DEN STORYLINE.

I’m sorry [she smiles bashfully]

NOW I HAVE TO ASK, WHAT WAS THE MOST DIFFICULT PART OF PLAYING FIANNA?

The most difficult part? I wanna say the stunts but actually I think it was more the dialogue, more specifically the accent and the language because it is definitely not all in English, you know, some of it was in Irish. Yeah, like learning- well no, I didn’t learn Irish for the movie because it’s... learning a language is difficult and... there’s actually a lot of grammar rules and stuff, to Irish.

I mean it’s crazy, if you’ve ever seen Irish written down and then heard it spoken you will know that it does not sound the way it look like at all. And the same combination of letters can make different sounds based on like- I think it’s the vowel changes the sound, it’s crazy. But it’s really cool, it’s such a cool language.

YOU DID AMAZING AT SPEAKING THE LANGUAGE, MANY FANS WERE IMPRESSED.

I was so lucky to have Ciarraí Quinn, she was, uh, she helped me with the accent, the dialect and the language. She was such a help with the accent because Fianna doesn’t have the accent you think of when talking of an Irish accent she has the Northern Irish accent. It’s kind of like a mix of Irish accent and maybe, some English too? I’m not sure how to describe it. It was very difficult to get down but thanks to Ciarraí I did manage to get it.

Also on the side of the language, it was really hard to not butcher it, like I said pronounciation in Irish is a little strange and I did struggle with it quite a bit. Not only did I have to learn the pronounciation but I had to make sure I had the perfect Native speaker accent from Fianna’s region.

I remember there was a line that Fianna said to Tony Stark while she was in the raft and to get not only the line, but to get the accent and the anger and pain and emotion into it, it took a long time to properly say it and to be satisfied with it. The very specific Native accent was so important because Fianna comes from an Irish speaking home, it’s her first language, and she even goes to one of the few all-Irish speaking schools. I really loved this aspect of Fianna and I really do love playing and portraying such a unique character.

THERE WAS A SCENE AT THE END OF CIVIL WAR THAT YOU HAD WITH CHRIS WHERE YOU BOTH SPOKE IN IRISH. WHAT WAS IT LIKE FILMING THAT?

Oh, yeah, a lot of fans seemed to love that scene and I did too, as did chris. It was really fun to film that scene so it was, we must have run over the lines a hundred times to make sure we’d get it right. This was something Chris and I wanted to make sure stayed in the movie, um... because it was almost cut from the script since the runtime was getting a little long but we fought to keep it in, we felt it was important.

Something a lot of people don’t know is that Captain America, Steve Rogers, he... his mother was an Irish immigrant. Based on the time she would’ve immigrated she most likely spoke the language fluently and would’ve spoke it at home with little baby Steve.

So that short scene, that little bit of dialogue meant a lot to Native speakers, Irish learners and even just second generation immigrants from anywhere. That’s why Chris and I fought so hard to keep it in the movie, the representation.

JUST BEFORE WE GO CAN YOU TELL US ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR FUTURE IN THE MCU?

Anything about my and Fianna’s future in the MCU? Let’s see, I’ve got a contract for quite a few things. Umm... there’s a couple of movies starring Fianna coming soon. She brings with her her own posse of characters and maybe a couple of others as well. Annddd I think that’s all I can say.

THAT’S ALL YOU CAN SAY?

I think that’s all I can say before someone comes in and like forcefully removes me from the room [she smiles widely, holding back a laugh] either that or you’ll end up with recording footage missing or a trained sniper will shoot me through that window [she points, laughing again] Feige will do anything to keep as much quiet as he can for as long as he can.