#so the dress i styled was shown on the event yesterday

[dobaara]

hellooo random update! <3 sorry i was away!

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 79: The Rites of Blood and Knowledge

Chapters: 79/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg 13(Blood)

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel) Wanda Maximoff, vision, Bruce Banner

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, In Reference To Blood Mixing Mentioned In The Eddas

Summary:  The great ceremonies begin.

The dreams were powerful that night, whisking you off to far away places, off to the increasingly familiar form of the gargantuan space artist. There was a strange nostalgia out here that you were slowly coming to recognize as being not your own. How could it be? You had never physically been here, only visited in dreams.

With green and blue sparkling at your right and left, you drifted along in their orbit, yet another asteroid in a primordial star system.

First Wielder.

The concept filtered through your mind, trailing a warm and wistful longing behind it.

Peace. Eternity. Creation.

Before battle. Before separation. Before imprisonment.

Before all.

The star system was strange: every time you came here, the sun was a little different. A variable star, its brightness oscillating, it was still young and new.

There was only one planet in this system, located fairly close to the star. The presence of the colossal giant perturbed the asteroids and gas around the star, but their great mass prevented them from coalescing.

Comets formed in great numbers from the gas and ice beyond them, whizzing past them, inspiring new drawings. Asteroids clumped up against them; a brush of their great hand sent them flying, to collide into one another, to spin away from their unstable orbit, and join the comets on their cross-system journey, to crash into the singular planet.

The colossus watched with the patience of true immortality, as the planet burned and erupted, filled up with water, and clouds, and sky.

Thoughtfully, they regarded an asteroid they held in one hand, then, with their color-stained fingers, they began to draw.

The wistfulness and regret reached their peak, and you woke up in the empty bathtub, with a thought ringing in your head.

The Wielders always came to a bad end.

                                                                            ******

Loki was somewhat disgruntled to discover that you'd been having these dreams without him. He didn't scold, but his concern was clear. You described them in as much detail as you could, but, to your dismay, he didn't have any explanation for what you'd been seeing while you slept.

It would just have to remain a mystery. The upcoming day was going to be far too busy to dwell on it.

Both you and Loki had dressed in your absolute finest, your armor polished bright, your skirt covered in embroidery, your chest and neck festooned in beads of carved gold and pearl. You still felt a little bit like you were so buried in finery that you became invisible, but you tried to carry it with pride. All of this had been put together especially for you, and that hard work deserved to be shown off.

Loki was so magnificent in his fur-trimmed cloak, and elaborate helmet, you had to firmly tell yourself not to spend the whole day just staring at him all moon-eyed.

Maybe just a few hours.

Today, the Second Feast, was really the main event, as far as this Buridag was concerned. At noon, you would participate in the Blood Taking ceremony, wherin you would 'mingle blood' with the royal brothers, in order to be formally adopted into Asgardian high society. This would cement your status as high enough to advise Loki as one of the most important members of his personal entourage. And before the evening feast, you would perform the ritual that would confirm you as an official Seidkona.

But before that, you would have the time to run around and enjoy the festival.

It was set up like a combination job fair and reenactment fest. Stalls lined the streets and filled courtyards, peopled by the crafters of Asgard. Smiths, armorers, and carpenters, goldsmiths, lapidaries, scrimshanders, and glassblowers. Weavers, spinners, leatherworkers, and dyemakers, artists, musicians, chefs, academics, mages, stonemasons, construction workers, scribes, dancers, and cheesemongers. All the sights, and sounds, and scents, and flavors that made up Asgard were being demonstrated and celebrated.

Your Father and Tara joined you in the streets, and Loki reluctantly released you into their care, having some preparation left to do.

Tara, flouncing around in an apron dress and domed brooches very much like your usual style, gushed over how beautiful you looked, and your father, rather sheepishly dressed in an Asgardian greatcoat and cowl, agreed openly.

“You look like a princess.” he said. “A real one. You...You walk different now. Talk different. You look so strong.”

“Is it me, or are all these people following us?” Tara asked, not very quietly. A few chagrined people in the crowd that flowed in your wake down the street peeled away, and wandered in different directions. The rest either had less shame, or had orders to keep watch over you.

You spared the group a glance. There appeared to be a solid mix of Asgardians and humans, several of which had their phones out. You surmised there would be a new wave of photos of you on the internet over the next few days.

“Keep your cowl up dad.” You advised.

“Want me to run them off?” he offered.

“Nah. I don't really mind if they take pictures of me. Can't really hurt anything.”

“Wasn't so great last time.” Tara pointed out. “I spent a lot of time stanning for you.”

“Well, last time was sensationalized bullcrap. This time is a nice festival. I mean, check out that guy!”

That Guy was a glassblower in his stall, spinning a huge, bubble thin amphora of rose pink glass. You had seen its like before, but never seen one made.

“Oh, they age crystal mead in those! The pink lets in the right wavelengths of light that give it it's shimmering quality.”

“What's crystal mead?” your father asked.

“Don't try more than a few sips, if anyone offers.” you warned. “Asgardians have iron guts. Their booze is way too strong.”

“Yeah, they warned us about that on the plane.” Tara said. “And yesterday, it looked like they had everything divided up by species, so no one got the wrong thing.”

You took them around to various demonstrations: spinners spinning yarn, brewers preparing several of Asgards many alcoholic beverages, apothecaries showing how basic medicines were made, a cobbler putting together a nice pair of boots.

“So, Asgard's really advanced, right?” Tara asked. “Why is everything like Ye Olden Times?”

“Asgard's never had that big a population, even at it height. There just isn't that much demand for mass production. Most things are bespoke, or self-made. Quality depends entirely on the maker, so that, of course, becomes a competition. And that, in turn, becomes a matter of cultural pride. Also, they have thousands of years to get good at what they do, so Asgardian made goods are super high quality, and they judge personal worth by that. I don't think they'll ever automate; it would go against a lot of what they stand for.”

You snagged the three of you a traditional Asgardian snack; fat sausages, wrapped in savory pastry. You thought it might be good to have something else in your stomach before the first ceremony.

Tara called them Asgardian corn dogs, which you couldn't wait to share with Loki, if only to watch his nose wrinkle with disdain over the undignified term.

“So when do we have to let you go?” Tara asked.

You checked your phone for the time, stuffing the last of your sausage into your mouth.

“Eh, I've got a few minutes left. Better start heading over though.”

Your winding path through the courtyards took you past minstrels, impromptu dances, and games, to a large, tall dais that had been put together as a temporary mirror to the throne room. It towered over the City Hall courtyard like a ziggurat. You'd be up there soon enough, but currently...

“Who's that?” your father asked, pointing at a man standing at the top. “Doesn't look like Thor.”

You squinted up at the figure, his bright armor shining in the rarefied sunlight.

“Ah, That's Heimdall. He's the Guardian of Asgard, and god of...uh, sight? I think? Vigilance? It's not quite that neat and simple, you know? The whole 'God Of' thing is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So that's a god?” your father asked. “How can you tell? Are they all gods? What does that even mean?”

“All good questions. Mostly because they are very hard to answer.”

Your father and Tara jerked at the sudden new voice, and, not for the first time, you found yourself amazed at how easily a man of the sheer size and importance as the king of Asgard could sneak up on people.

“Your Majesty.” you said calmly, inclining your head. Your father and Tara dipped into awkward bows, a little awed by the mythical figure before them. Thor didn't necessarily demand obeisance, but he didn't exactly discourage it either; he let people act as they felt appropriate.

“Not every Asgardian is a god.” Thor explained. “Those that are go by the term 'Aesir', a common name through most of the realms for beings of that type. You are born Aesir; you cannot become one by outside influences. However, Aesir nature doesn't always become apparent at birth, it often doesn't manifest until adolescence. As for what it means to be Aesir...that doesn't have so straightforward an answer. I leave it to the philosophers, who, incidentally, are in booth seventy-eight.

Anyway, I have come to collect your daughter for the ceremony. There isn't much time left, so we'd all better get in place. If you go through those two poles there right now, you can get very good seats.”

“This could get a bit weird.” You warned. “It's a ceremony more ancient than any recorded human practices, so it's probably going to seem archaic.”

“Oh, it's not so bad.” Thor said. “It's been updated and refined over all those years. For instance, everyone remains clothed now, and there are at least seventy percent fewer entrails used.”

Your father coughed, and you rolled your eyes. Thor's sense of humor was difficult for you to understand, considering how serious he was about everything. The thing about Thor's jokes was that he might have been joking about something that had really happened, or he might have been joking about something he'd completely made up, but he would never specify which.

“On that note, I've got to go.” you said. “Entrails to sort, and all that.”

Your father coughed again, Tara patting him compassionately on the back.

“Good luck!” she called to your receding back.

                                                                                ******

“Now, you've been fully briefed on what will happen during this ceremony, correct?” Thor asked, as the two of you loitered near the back stairs of the temporary dais. People were filtering in to seats and standing room around the courtyard, waiting for things to start.

“I think so.” you said. “If I've got this right, there's going to be a special dance-”

“The Alignment of the Celestial and Worldly bodies, yes.” Thor said. “It symbolizes everything that must come together to bring the 'adoptee' to the greater 'family'. In this case, it will tell the story of how you came here to join our family.”

A soft warmth crept up your neck, and heated your ears beneath your helmet. You knew it was all socio-symbolism, but the notion of 'joining the family' hit differently now that you were on intimate terms with Loki.

“And then all the braziers will have some kind of incense thrown in, and in the smoke, we'll all go up the stairs like we're magically appearing. Honestly, it sounds like it'll look really cool.”

“All ceremonies contain a bit of theatrics.” Thor agreed. “Perhaps that is the most important part. Or that's the part that makes it important. I wish we still had some of the traditional ceremonial incense, but we just don't have access to the materials anymore. You would have liked it; it was much more floral than most of what you have here. We did manage to get some lavender though. That should be nice.”

“Maybe one day, when the Bifrost is more stable.” You said. It did sound very nice. “Loki said that you, and he, and Heimdall will sing a blessing song?”

“Yes, a divine blessing from a trio of Aesir. It's got to be three. And then...”

“Yeah. And then.” Loki had told you about the bloodletting. He had been very frank about it. “I know. I'm nervous, but not afraid.”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes there are unforeseen effects, but never anything bad. You'll be perfectly safe.”

“I know. The nervousness just comes from knowing it'll hurt. Even if just for a short time.”

You buckled under Thor's hand when it came down on your shoulder, enveloping the whole thing.

“Loki would rather slice out his own guts than draw your blood, trust me. He's been trying to figure out how to get around it for weeks. Unfortunately, the blood is the most important part of the magic. It carries all of the power. It's very old magic: according to him, this is practically the only part of the ritual that has remained unchanged from the beginning.”

“Did there really used to be entrails and naked people, or was that a joke?”

“Ehhh, well, yes and no. This ceremony originated with the Vanir, and they are not opposed to nakedness under certain circumstances. In this case, everyone who attended was expected to leave the clothes they came in at the door, and wear a special loincloth instead. This was actually to prevent violence, by barring hidden weaponry from being brought to ceremony grounds. So rather than pure nudity, everyone was dressed as scantily as was possible.

As for entrails...unfortunately yes, that was also a part of it. A seer would perform a divination using the entrails of a slaughtered animal. That practice was going out of fashion, even before the war, and I don't think anyone today even remembers how it was done.”

You shuddered. Yes, it was a different culture, and a long time ago, but it still grossed you out.

“I'll have to remember to thank Loki for trying to get me out of it, even if he wasn't successful.” You said. He really did put in a lot of effort behind the scenes. If only he were more open about some of that effort, so you could appreciate it more.

“He was adamant about the bull.” Thor said. “Demanded a private ritual the night before. Put your helmet up on the pillar, then sacrificed and butchered the beast himself. Insisted on it. Did our ancestors proud, but you know he knows his way around a knife.”

“I wish he'd told me. I was really stressed about that whole thing. I'm glad, in the end, that he was thinking of me, but I really wish I'd known. I wouldn't have lost so much sleep!”

“It was a little last minute.” Thor admitted. “I approved it the instant he explained, but we had to do it pretty much immediately afterwards. He really should have told you, but I fear my brother is usually more invested in the making of plans, rather than what to do once they come to fruition. I feel you will be a positive influence on him, though.”

Even though he was wearing his eyepatch, rather than the mismatched prosthetic, his one blue eye was open and sincere.

“I think so too.” you said. You already were influencing each other. It was impossible to live so close, to sleep in the same bed, without doing so. But Loki did have a bad habit of assuming things, a by-product of his upbringing as a leader, you supposed. You would simply have to speak up more.

Perhaps you had gotten too comfortable. But perhaps you wanted to be too comfortable. It might be a holdover from your year of struggle, but having someone who wanted to do so much for you was very tempting. You knew it would be better to strive for a balance, but you also knew that, unless Loki somehow diminished himself severely, the two of you would never truly be equals.

But you admired that greatness, and somehow, those all too common flaws in him made him easier for you to love. They made him so real.

An ambling drum beat started up, accompanied by the brassy ting of zills, and a flute. Loki joined you and Thor in peeking out around the dais, just as a group of dancers spread out around the courtyard.

You'd been told that the dancers represented personages from history and legend. You were pretty sure that the three women who orbited the dance stage equidistant from one another must be the Norns, and you assumed the cluster of people standing beneath a glittering tree branch and clanging their zills were probably meant to be the ancestors of the royal family.

The dance told a story of a woman dressed like you, and a man dressed like Loki, wearing silver bells at their wrists and ankles that jingled with every step. They made everything look so much more graceful and sensual than it really had been: Holding hands like the rune branding had been on purpose, dancing circles with each other, like everything had been friendly and not at all awkward from the very beginning. How elegantly 'you' swooned into 'his' arms, while the assassin was caught. How triumphantly 'you' defended 'him' against the Huldra. And how beautifully 'he' clasped 'you' in a romantic, yet properly chaste embrace.

There was none of the blood, none of the fear, or anger, or petulance, or confusion. No loss, or loneliness, or uncertainty.

But that was how it worked, wasn't it? None of those things could be shown to the general public. This was ceremony. This was spectacle! This was what would be remembered.

The pair danced away, out of sight, the ancestors retreated, and the Norns raised their arms in unison. All around the courtyard, attendants dumped incense into the torches and braziers, sending thick smoke and mysterious perfume wafting over the entire area.

“Show's on, darling.” Loki said, grasping your shoulders, and leading you up the stairs. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you rose above the sweet smelling clouds like a legend. Heimdall stepped aside to let you pass, Loki and Thor leading you right up to the edge of the elevated platform, where waited a podium, upon which rested a brass bowl. An unfamiliar rune was stamped on its bottom. So that was where the magic would happen.

Thor held his hand out over an unlit brazier just in front of the podium and concentrated. Scarcely a moment later sparks danced between his fingers and jumped to ignite the fuel. The light illuminated the clouds of incense, obscuring the audience. Cut off thus from every other person out there, you didn't flinch as the trio of gods each placed a hand on you, and began to sing.

You couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. It was a complex song, with rising and falling harmonies, parts layered over one another, something that couldn't have been easy to learn. As their voices dipped and flowed, you felt the power rising, just like out in the camp, months ago. Why could you sense divine power? Was it because of your magic? Was there anyone out in the crowd that could feel it too?

Thor's good eye had begun to sparkle with crackling white energy, the power of the blessing he was singing into you. You assumed Heimdall, behind you, was lighting up orange, and when you turned your head to glance at Loki, you were suffused with the gentle glow of the blue light from your dreams.

All of the anxiety drained out of you at the touch of that light, your arms dropping to your sides as relaxation took over.

Everything was all right. Loki was right beside you. Thor and Heimdall were with you, their voices reverberating through you, their blessing upon you. The rare winter sun filtered down over you like a blanket, as the last notes of the Aesir's song filled your head.

Loki gently took your hand, gazing earnestly into your face as the calming light faded from his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispered.

A sudden, painful jab, ripped you out of your cocoon of sunny calm. With a sharp cry, you turned to stare at your fingertip, pierced deeply by the tip of one of Loki's knives.

Loki held your hand over the brass bowl, letting the blood drip, enough to cover the rune at the bottom. Then he tenderly bandaged the tiny wound, lines of regret around his eyes. Thor held his hand out for a slash, and then Loki turned the blade on himself. Blood slowly filled the little bowl, as a light throbbing started in your head. Every drop that rippled its surface was like a giant heartbeat within you.

Once it was full, Thor and Loki began singing again, lifting the small bowl between them. They held it up to the sun, and then poured it onto the burning brazier. The fire sputtered, sizzling, sending a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face. You gagged on the scent of burning blood, practically bathed in it, a layer of death-scent on your skin. The song cut through it, thrumming in your ears, an echoing promise of cherishment and fidelity.

The blood burned down into nothing, the smoke slowly clearing. All of the people in the courtyard came back into view, the upturned faces solemn. The dancers below picked up the chorus.

And you understood them.

Loki took your hand and lifted it up, flourishing to the crowd. They cheered, while you stood there, stunned. You understood what they were saying, their enthusiastic calls, their songs. The blood smell lingered in your nose, the throbbing swiftly receding from your head.

He led you to the stairs down as you wobbled, but you never made it all the way down. Dizziness overcame you, and you collapsed into Loki's arms.

[josefavomjaaga]

Sir Robert Wilson on Murat and Eugène

Okay, so I said I would read up on Wilson first before reading anything by him – but I had already looked into the second volume of his diaries, and this is just perfect: During the final days of March and April 1814, when the First Empire ended in Upper Italy, he visited both Murat and Eugène and had dinner with them.

Please bear with me, this is going to be lengthy. Plus, I do not know if these diaries were truely private or intended for publication, so I have no clue in how far they were edited later and how trustworthy they are as a source.

We start off in mid-March. Eugène is still holding the Mincio line for Napoleon. Murat has received the ratification of his treaty with Austria but is still on awful terms with Austrian Field Marshal Bellegarde – and with Bentinck [»Lord William«, as Wilson writes], of course.

March 15th – As I am of the species of anecdote collectors, I must note a speech of Beauharnois at Verona, which has made an impression in his favour, although it is not sufficiently towering for a hero's last struggle and would rather suit a sixth than a fifth Henry:

"Pour moi, je suis monté par un escalier si bas que je ne me ferai pas du mal en descendant. Je n'aurai que du chagrin pour ma femme, née et elevée princesse."

In English: "As for me, I have climbed a staircase from so low that I shall not harm myself on the way down. I will only grieve for my wife, born and bred a princess." That was Eugène’s usual attitude. Auguste did the same, in reverse: Of course she never wanted that crown of Italy for herself. But her Eugène (best of husbands™) deserved it so much more than anyone else in Napoleon’s family!

There are many others recorded equally meek; and this humility of spirit, combined with other good qualities and his present martial and military conduct, excites great interest in his favour.[...]

Yesterday, Colonel Cattanelli arrived and brought me advice that Lord William and Murat were at Reggio, contending for and against the British occupation of Tuscany. [...]

March 20th - We have no further advices from Reggio, but are most anxious to know the result of Murat's and Lord William's final conference.

Cattanelli tells me that Murat said to him: "Whereever I am in all the great battles, I have seen General Wilson. He is certainly one of the most distinguished officers, and if it had not been for him, we should in various instances in Russia have got through much better. He has done us infinite harm, but it is a fatality that he should always be opposed to me." He then continued his remarks, observing that I was an enemy to him, his family, the French nation etc. Cattanelli told him that he had heard me extol his military conduct, which pleased him much.

The fact is that I have not written a line or given an opinion under the influence of personal feeling. I have not shown the smallest prejudice in conversation or official correspondence, although I consider Murat's conduct as very dishonourable with reference to his benefactor. I have always said that the Allies did not give his renegade zeal fair trial, and that our present propositions are inadmissable by a King of Naples having only an armistice with England.

There is a reason, why, personally, I would wish to serve Murat. He now knows it, and will be satisfied that at all events I respect myself too much to wrong him.

March 29th, Bologna. - In consequence of the difficulties which existed and seemed to increase, I was requested by Lord William to negotiate with Murat. Constant to the principle of promoting public utility, I acquiesced, but I felt much personal reluctance. […]

At midday I went with Lord William, and was introduced to Murat. He received me very amicably; and we had more than an hour's very interesting conversation on past military events, particularly those relating to the Russian campaign; and I acquired some valuable information on that subject. Murat's dress was singular. Hair curled in Roman coiffure—two ringlets, or what, à la Parisienne, are styled “pensées”, dependent on each shoulder. Blue uniform coat, red pantaloons, yellow shoes, with spurs; sword, with three pictures in the handle. His countenance martial, his manners soft, his conversation easy and intelligent. I reserve further opinion until I have transacted business with his Majesty.

30th. — I dined with the Duke di Gallo - a handsome entertainment and a well-chosen party. In the evening went to the opera. Murat was seated as a Sultan -- princes and dukes all standing behind his throne-chair. He is by far the best actor that has appeared in the royalty theatre. This morning Lord William is gone to have an interview with the Pope. I am left to negotiate. I find myself much like the Allies in France—without any base for operations, line of communication uncertain, various interests clashing, and no unity of direction. [...]

April 1st. —On the evening of the 29th, at half-past six, I was at the dinner-table with Murat. The banquet was according to all the rules of perfect gastronomy. The master's manners were very gracious. It was impossible for Lord Chesterfield to have done the honours better. A certain high personage in England would, I am sure, ever feel a little jealous of his kingly courtesies. There was somewhat more of ceremony in the arrangement of the table than I ever witnessed before in royal fêtes. Murat occupied one whole side himself. Three persons sat opposite, and two at each end. With the exception of this distinction, there was no extraordinary attention paid to him, and the conversation was as general, fluent, and free as in private society. After dinner was over we remained talking till near eleven o'clock. I fought with his Majesty all the battles over again which we had witnessed together. He was exceedingly interesting, very candid, and by no means a Gascon for himself or his brethren in arms. I profited by this opportunity again to acquire information on various subjects which he was best qualified to give, and which may tend to make a posthumous memorandum of the late campaigns more valuable. […]

3rd. - I, yesterday, had a very long audience of Murat, and received his ultimatum on the subject of Lord William's demands. I begged, however, to have the statement in writing, and Murat promises to give it under his own hand. I think his case a good one. In foro conscientiæ he is justified. He has had much reason to feel mistrust and suspect hostile intentions under the pretext of peace. […]

Wilson actually lists up a whole bunch of reasons why Murat was justified both to mistrust the Allies and to break away from Napoleon, including Napoleon's intended takeover of Naples. So, in comparison with what he wrote on March 20, his opinion of Murat seems to have improved much by the end, on meeting him personally and on hearing his side of the story.

I skip over some stuff: The Allies and a bit later the Italians receive the news of Napoleon's abdication, which leads to a first military convention between Eugène and Bellegarde. Then we get the anti-French riots in Milan as soon as the senate tries to install Eugène as king of Lombardy, Pina gets tortured to death. That’s the point when Eugène quits the game.

25th. —Events have streamed so rapidly that I cannot attempt to note their progress. Yesterday, Marshal Beauharnois agreed to surrender the kingdom of Italy. The insurrection at Milan and the intelligence of Buonaparte's cession of the iron crown, with other circumstances, determined that measure.

I have, in my despatch to Lord Castlereagh, rendered justice to his conduct as an administrator, a general, and a man.

I passed the whole of yesterday evening with Beauharnois and in Mantua, and enjoyed very interesting conversation on all subjects. He treated me with a confidence that very few friends could experience from a person in his situation, and earnestly begged that I would see him again to pursue our discourses. There is unquestionably great satisfaction in a reception which gives proof of previous good repute, and shows the existence of unlimited credit on the heart's stores. [...]

Well, if I may suggest – don’t flatter yourself too much. That has, I fear, a lot to do with Eugène and rather little with you. (And btw, Eugène was not a marshal!)

The dinner was a most agreeable part of the day's entertainment, not only because we did not sit down till 7 o'clock in the evening, which is a great extension beyond 2 o 'clock, but because the society was very select, there not being more than eight, including three ladies appertaining to the Princess whose presence embellished the company. The Princess was herself not visible, having been confined only eight days, but they say she is very handsome. Her children, four of whom I saw, are of the best appearance and manners.

Beauharnois asked much after the Duke and Duchess of Bedford.

And that’s because he kinda knew the duchess pretty well before she became the duchess, during the peace of Amiens, when all the Brits crowded Paris. (There had even been talk about marriage but in the end either First Consul Bonaparte or the Duchess of Gordon decided against it.)

He is altered, but has a great resemblance to Moreau, and is as plain as Murat is gaudy in his dress. He is, in my opinion, just the man to suit some good Englishmen of my acquaintance.

Something makes me think he does not intend this to be a compliment 😉.

27th. — Yesterday, Beauharnois and his Princess arrived here. The preceding day there was much reason to fear that there might be obstacles to his departure, as the Italian generals, etc, were greatly displeased with the second convention which surrendered the capital and the fortresses without any arrangement made for them, according to the express stipulation of the first convention to that effect. I think, however, that Beauharnois does right; especially as Berthier desired him to withdraw, and the people had commenced a senseless and what threatened to be a very sanguinary insurrection, only to be repressed in its first outbreak by the presence of an Austrian force. [...]

The Princess, although only brought to bed twelve days, bore the journey very well; but Assalini tells me that she is very delicate, and that he fears the more for her as her mother died after child-birth. I have just sent her a bottle of Tokay from the cellar of John Sobieski. It was given me when I was in Warsaw, and I have carried it about intact on the presumption that I might one day apply the nectar to a better purpose than the gratification of my own palate. If I have not, as I hope, combined the “ utile dulci,” I have at least combined in this instance the “decorum dulci,” and this is more in character.

28th - Yesterday, Beauharnois showed me a letter from his sister, the Queen of Holland. It was full of anecdote about Buonaparte, the Empresses, etc, and proved that she possessed much good sense and good feeling. One of her remarks was—“Fatality determined that no experience, no counsel, not even the Emperor's own intelligent mind should discover the bandage which it had bound over his eyes. The perception of the heart was wanting, and great geniuses rarely possess it. He has been abandoned almost by all. Rustan (the Mameluke) is even about to quit, and when I saw the Empress Louisa the other day, she had not more than one valet-à-pied in her service. She came to the advanced posts to embrace her father before she followed her husband, but it is now said that she will not be allowed to go after him. It is true that he was not latterly kind to you, but I am sure you will remark only his benefactions at this time.” The tears started in the eyes of Beauharnois as he read.

May 1st. - I dined on the 29th with the Prince Eugène, the Princess and three ladies of her court; no other persons present. A conversation of five hours enabled me to travel over much matter, but without exhausting our subjects. I had every reason to be pleased with the Prince, and to be assured that we did not separate without a mutual wish to meet again. He was very anxious that I should be at Paris when he was there, but as I hate traitors and cowards - however beneficial their treason and baseness — I shall not sojourn in that city. I would rather be Buonaparte, to have written his last bulletin, than any one of the yet prosperous renegades.

So, to sum up: Murat fascinating but hard to assess, Eugène plain boring. No surprises there.

[terrania]

Every summer, I eventually find myself wishing I was in school again. Of course, that’s human nature- the grass is always greener, childhood vs. adulthood, etc., but this time, it’s just, like, more. I suppose I can see why that is, though- times have recently been quite uninteresting for me. On some days, I take long walks to nowhere, on some days I do chores for money, and on some days I have friends over, which is usually quite enjoyable, but I always remember it being so much better when I had multiple over. I still see my thirteenth birthday, which had nothing but three of my friends, jackbox, and a sleepover, as the best day of my life, which is fitting, given quarantine began the day after everyone went home. I have photos in my phone of the event, of course- not enough, but many- showing sam and ash the happiest I’ve ever seen them, and showing charlie making a terrible soda accident. Now, sam and ash are taking summer school, and of course they are. They’ve gone through fifteen months of this shit, so obviously they’ve gotten some form of depression in that time. It’s disturbingly predictable! People are speaking less and less in all (both) of my group chats now. I guess we’re running out of things to talk about, or less things are happening, or we’re recovering? I don’t really know what’s happening, but I do know that I share the experience. I guess that’s yet another reason that I want to go back to school, so I can see these people regularly and really know where they are in whatever this is. People message group chats when something notable happens, or when they’re feeling sad, which, unlike feeling happy, is a notable thing. I guess that makes sense. Honestly, maybe it’s just what I’m feeling today that is making me feel like this. Summer’s like an extension of quarantine, I guess, in that I’m doing nothing with my life and each day feels wildly different than the one before it. Yesterday, I felt the best I have in weeks. I went out shopping at trader joe’s with my stepsibling, then went to a clothing store with my dad and stepmother, and bought a beautiful dress and hoodie-coat combo. I’ve shown it to my friends, but I haven’t worn it in public, like at school. Still the best gender euphoria since I got that skirt, I think. Maybe more. Basically, yesterday I had a symbolic, gender confirming experience, and today I got halfway through washing my dad’s car, and it started raining, so I instead did absolutely nothing. I’ve always been told that my writing style will take me places, and that I have a strong voice, and such. Why can’t I use that voice, then? Seriously, what’s stopping me? I don’t know, but today instead of writing, I watched almost all of bo burnham’s inside, then turned it off because my parents were paying attention and the full nudity scene was about to play. I packed my stuff up and headed to my mom’s house, did nothing in a different location, watched bo burnham’s what, and kept on watching stuff while my mom went to sleep. At like 12:20, I finally stopped, because I realized that I was very hungry and thirsty. A thought creeps into my mind: I wish I was back at school. I go downstairs, I pour myself water and add ice. It’s sustenance, at best and at worst. My cat is staring at the corner. I guess there must be a mouse there. There are mice there a lot. Relatable, though. I’m still hungry. There are no chips in the pantry, nor are there granola bars, I have already made myself ramen, and I have no interest in anything more complex at 12:28 in the morning. I then remember that the chocolate-covered cherries I bought at trader joe’s with my stepsibling are still in my travel bag, which I use to bring items between my dad’s house and my mom’s. I walk upstairs, turning the lights off behind me. My cat hasn’t moved. As I come upstairs, I feel a bit worse. I try to pace myself diet-wise by limiting myself to two non-water beverages and two desserts per day, and I’m still eating this sweet stuff? Well, it’s organic, I guess. I’m upstairs, back in my bedroom. I now have the idea of writing all this down- it’s something to write about, right? I pick out the box of chocolate-covered cherries. The chocolate is dark, and bitter. Dark chocolate isn’t really for me. The cherries themselves are dried like raisins, and sour. I guess these aren’t maraschino. I have three, but three is enough. I’m no longer hungry, and these are sustenance, at best. I guess I’m ready to start writing. As I turn the lights off, and the synthwave on, I stop to look at the mirror, to the right of the futon in my bedroom. The light from the laptop illuminates half of my face. I ask myself, do I look masculine or feminine? The answer is that I look young. What else am I, what else are we, right?

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 5 - The Interview

It was Monday morning and Varian stood outside on the university grounds waiting. Hiro had told him that he was to meet with the school’s headmaster today. He needed to speak to this Professor Granville about obtaining supplies to build a new portal machine to send him home. 

Varian had never met a dean of a university before. He wanted to look his best to impress such an important person. He wore the white linen shirt he had bought on Saturday and a pair of the khaki dress pants, both pressed and ironed the night before, along with his Sapporian boots, polished and shined to match the black belt he wore. On his head, he still wore his customary goggles but he made sure to polish them as well. 

Wasabi had tried to comb and fix his hair this morning, but it was already back to its usual unkempt state. It hadn’t even stayed in place for twenty minutes before his swept back bangs started falling and the cowlick on top of his head started to spring back up despite the use of styling gel, much to Wasabi’s frustration. However, there was no time to fool with it any more as Wasabi had to leave early to take Ruddiger to the vet. 

Varian deeply appreciated the older teen’s assistance. For the duration of his stay, Wasabi had gone out of his way to help Varian and make him feel at home. Not asking for anything in return, nor walking back on any promises (no matter how much the existence of Ruddiger annoyed him), and going above and beyond anything a regular person from Varian’s world would do. He was far different from any other fair-weather ‘friend’ Varian previously had. 

They had spent the previous day hanging out together at the dormitory; with Wasabi teaching Varian various things about this new world and helping him and Ruddiger get situated. 

They set up the cage for Ruddiger to sleep in. There wasn't much room in the apartment for such a large kennel so they had to tuck it up under the kitchen table. Placing the pet bed and bowls of food and water inside. Ruddiger hated it. He much preferred the fake log that Varian wedged into the corner above the sofa; curling up there whenever possible.   

As for said sofa, Wasabi took the new sheets and blankets he’d bought and fixed them up into a proper bed. With the cushions tucked tightly into a fitted sheet and the new pillow fluffed up and placed at one end. 

Next to the couch they put up the small chest of drawers and organized Varian's new things. Helping him to set up his own little space inside the small apartment.

He also helped Varian set up his new phone. Teaching him how to make calls, text, and the myriad of secondary functions the device could perform. But the most impressive thing about the new phone was something called the internet. It was a worldwide information and communication exchange system. All of human kind’s accumulated knowledge, history, and personal banalities was a mere click away. 

Varian started off reading about the history of quantum physics on an online encyclopedia, which somehow led to him arguing with a person in someplace called Indiana over the exact meaning of the pentagram symbol on something called a public forum, and finally ending up watching a bunch of moving pictures, called video, of seals playing in the Antarctic. All in less than an hour. 

One could get lost in the sea of words, images, and sounds that this new invention had to offer. Varian could only marvel at just how smart and well educated the people of this world must be with such wells of information so easily accessible to the public at large. In his world, all they had were books and you could only get those that happened to be shipped to whatever area you lived in. Corona itself only had one bookstore, located on the island capital, if Varian wanted new reading material he either had to make a trip into town or hope that some of the traveling merchants had any on hand they were willing to part with. 

Thus the day had passed until Wasabi had to leave to go to work. In his absence, Varian did a bunch of chores. He took Ruddiger for a walk, cleaned up the washroom, and tried to cook dinner. 

He had wanted to surprise Wasabi with a good meal as a way of thank you. Unfortunately the little makeshift kitchen wasn't well stocked. Varian had very little to work with and some of the stuff on hand was unfamiliar to him. 

Worse, the only thing to cook with was the microwave and toaster. Wasabi had shown him how such appliances worked but he hadn't had much practice with them. 

Ultimately he had decided on fixing some oatmeal. That was easy enough and Wasabi had everything to cook it with. He poured the milk and oatmeal into a pot and placed it in the microwave and set the timer for thirty minutes. He then cut up some new tropical yellow fruit called bananas to go in it. Ruddiger loved the rare treat and Varian had to cut him his own banana slices so as to keep the animal from stealing their supper. 

Varian also tried out the toaster. The pieces of bread turned out a little darker than he had expected but all in all he was happy with his first attempt. He buttered them up and started on a second batch. 

He was just hunting down a sweetener to use in the oatmeal when Wasabi came home. 

The tall man nearly cried with joy when he spotted the newly cleaned bathroom.

"You … you cleaned? Like, you scrubbed down the shower and the sink and everything! And I didn't even have to ask you!?" 

"Well yeah. If I'm going to be staying here awhile I might as well do my part in maintaining the place" Varian said matter-of-factly, not understanding what the big deal was. 

"You don't get it. I've never had a roommate who would help out with chores. Trying to get those guys to even just fold laundry every once in a while was like pulling teeth. And I've gone through a lot of roommates in the past two years." Wasabi said with a weary tone at the end, as if recalling some of those failed partnerships. He then switched back to the present. "Thank you, man." He said with an appreciative smile. 

Varian was about to tell him that he was welcome, but then the microwave exploded. 

Sparks were flying from the sides and oatmeal came gushing out from the front. The interior light was flickering on and off and smoke poured out the back. 

Wasabi gave a little scream and ran past Varian to unplug the device before it caught on fire. 

Apparently one wasn't supposed to put metal into a microwave. Which Varian personally considered as a design flaw, but he kept this opinion to himself and instead profusely apologized. He promised to replace the machine but Wasabi only sighed and told him not to worry about it. 

All was not lost though as Wasabi ordered Chinese take out for dinner instead. Varian had to admit that the bowls of rice, vegetables, and meats covered in various sauces were far more substantial than the oatmeal he had had originally planned. In particular he enjoyed the pork dumplings. They reminded him of the pierogi he would make back home but with a thinner pasta shell instead of the thicker breading he used. 

Varian recalled yesterday's events and had only just resolved to make it up to Wasabi somehow, when he spotted Hiro walking towards him. 

He was talking to an older woman with short dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes. She was smartly dressed in a grey business suit and carried with her a folder and pen. 

Trailing behind the two of them, Baymax wobbled along. Not being able to keep up with his stubby legs. 

"He's really smart; He just doesn't understand our world fully. But, he can learn things real quick." Varian overheard Hiro say. He figured they were talking about him, and that the lady must be Professor Granville, but the older woman said nothing in response nor gave any indication that she was impressed by what Hiro was saying. 

"Oh there he is." Hiro pointed out to her. He waved at Varian and excitedly broke into a jog to meet him first. 

"Hey! Varian, this is Professor Granville. Professor Granville, this is Varian." Hiro introduced them as the woman came up to meet them.

Professor Granville did not hurry, she remained calm and composed as she walked over to join the two boys. She appeared almost regal like, to Varian; tall, aloof, and fully in charge. However, despite this cold demeanor, her face did break into a warm smile when she met Varian's gaze. 

"Ah, the boy who built the portal. Hiro has told me all about you. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." 

Her voice, while not unkind, did hold an air of authority to it. A tone that very much conveyed that this was her domain and that Varian was merely a guest in it. Like a queen meeting one of her newest subjects. 

Varian didn't know whether to wave hello, shake hands, or give a bow to the woman. Not that she gave him much choice. 

No sooner did he squeak out a faint 'hi' did she sail past him and opened one of the large double doors. 

"If you'll kindly follow me, we'll go ahead and begin your interview." She said while holding the door open for him. 

"Interview?" Varian echo. 

"Yes. All prospective students must complete a college interview if they are to attend SFIT." She said matter-of-factly. 

Varian looked at Hiro in confusion. He thought he was here to talk about gaining supplies for his experiments, not to become a student. Hiro however only gave him a shrug in reply. So Varian moved to follow the woman. 

"I'll meet you out here when you're done." Hiro said to him as he walked into the darkened hallway and Professor Granville closed the door behind her.

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

"Right this way." Professor Granville led her newest charge into an empty classroom. It was a spacious lecture hall with a desk at one end and upon the blackboard were mathematical equations written up. All of the staff had returned a week early from spring break to prepare for the coming summer semester and Granville had planned on continuing setting up for her next class after she was done admitting the new student. 

Hiro had explained the whole situation to her, about the portals and the kid from another world who had built them, and for her part she figured it best to go ahead and enroll him. That way he could have access to any materials he needed to continue with his experiments, a place to stay during that time, and more importantly she could help forge for him any legal documents that he would undoubtedly need to get by. Not to mention that if the boy could indeed deliver on his portals then it would be a great boon for the school and its reputation. 

"Have a seat please." She indicated for him to sit down in a chair that she had pulled up to the desk. He did so, and she sat on the other side and opened her folder.

“Now first I’ll need your full name.” She instructed as she clicked her pen and made ready to fill out the application form for him.  

“Varian.” The boy replied,“ uh, V-A-R-I-A-N”

She wrote the name he had spelled out down and waited for him to continue, only no other names were forthcoming. She looked up and asked,“And your last name?”

“I haven’t got one.”

“They don’t have last names where you come from?” She asked. The boy was from another world so who knew what other customs they had. 

“Oh no, there are people with last names.” He clarified. “It’s just I’m the only Varian in my village so there was never any need for one. If anyone ever referred to me by anything else it was usually either, you know, ‘Here’s Varian the alchemist’  or ‘There goes Quirin’s son.’” He paused briefly before explaining further, “Uh, Quirin’s my dad’s name.” 

“And how do you spell that?” 

“Q-U-I-R-I-N” He replied while the professor went back to writing. When done she looked back up and continued her line of questioning.

“Very well Mr. Quirinson, now I’ll need a former residency to put on your application. Mr. Hamada has already mentioned that your country of origin does not exist in our world, but I’ll need an equivalency to put on your official documents.” She took a globe that was sitting upon her desk and handed it to Varian. “Why don’t you see if you can find anything familiar and maybe we can glean a substitute from that.” 

Varian scanned the globe, gazing over the continent of Europe; his finger following its northern coastline on the map. Everything was jumbled up. Countries were missing, new ones he had never heard of before in their places, what kingdoms he did recognize had different borders to what he had previously known. Even the geography was different, with rivers, lakes, and mountain ranges appearing in different places. Everything was slightly off. As if someone had taken a map from his world and then proceeded to move everything slightly to the left. 

Finally, in his confusion, he found something. A small peninsula jutting out into the Baltic Sea, and next to it were the words The Curonian Spit. It didn't look exactly like his Corona and it was spelled differently, but it was a peninsula, it was on the northern sea, and it was in the general vicinity, northeast of France.  

"Uh, here." He said while pointing to his find. Professor Granville peered over the desk to see the tiny country his index finger nearly covered. 

"Kaliningrad Oblast." She read, curiously, before sitting back down and turning to her computer. She looked up the country in question. "Says here Kaliningrad was a former part of Germany and is now a territory of Russia. I don't suppose you speak either Russian or German do you?" 

"I speak both actually." Normally Varian would brag about just how many languages he did know, but for right now he was just confused. He still didn't fully understand why this barrage of questions was important. 

"Excellent!" The professor exclaimed. "We'll get a passport and a student visa for you in no time. Now I'll just need your date of birth." 

"March the 24th." 

"And the year." 

"1639." 

Professor Granville paused, and slowly looked up from the form she was filling out. 

"1639? As in 1639, A.D.?" She asked in disbelief. 

Varian nodded his head. 

"You are aware that it is currently the year 2015 in this world, right?" She continued. 

Varian could only stare blankly back at her and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Maybe our worlds have different calendars?" He offered up helpfully. 

"Must be." Granville agreed quietly. There was no way a child from the mid 1600s could possibly have invented an interdimensional portal, she thought. Out loud though she only asked. "How old are you, Mr. Quirinson?" 

"Sixteen." 

She wrote 03/24/1999 onto the form. "Now I'll need the name of the last school you attended and we'll be done with the formalities." 

"I..I've never been to school before." He stuttered, suddenly self-conscious. This was where he'd be rejected he knew. Poor farm boys didn't get fancy educations. She undoubtedly would decline to admit him and he'll be left scrambling for another means of rebuilding a machine to get home with.

"You've never been to school?" She asked, horrified. 

Varian squirmed in his seat. "Well you see," he explained, desperately trying to think of some way to salvage the situation, "there is a small school in the capital, but that's a good day's trip and Dad needed me to help around the far- uh, estate. Besides, I already knew how to read and write by the time I was old enough to go." He gave a half smile at the end, hoping his advanced reading skills would be enough to impress her. 

"And how did you manage to learn advanced physics and engineering?" She asked in disbelief. 

"Well, I read books, and studied the masters, like Copernicus, and did a lot of experimentation on my own. A lot of trial and error." He said this last bit dryly, personally recalling some of his past failures. 

"Sooo you're completely self-taught then?" She asked, still trying to make sense of this strange boy. 

Varian nodded his head. 

"Well, why don't we just put home-schooled on the application." She suddenly suggested with a wide smile and Varian internally sighed with relief with the knowledge that his past wasn't going to be held against him. 

"Now for some personal questions. Here at the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, we pride ourselves on admitting the most dedicated and accomplished of students." Professor Granville proudly proclaimed. "Tell me what are some of your biggest accomplishments in the field of science?" 

"Uh…." Varian's brain froze. He had no real accomplishments. Everything he built either blew up, broke down, or worked in a way he hadn't originally intended.

"Come, come, no need to be shy." Granville encouraged. 

"Ummm…" 

The professor looked at him expectedly and Varian heard his heart pounding in his ears as his mind raced. 

"I invented a bath bomb!" He blurted out in haste. 

Professor Granville blinked back at him in surprise. "Well that wasn't what I was expecting," she said slowly,"but tell me about this 'bath bomb'." 

Varian wanted to sink into the ground. How stupid could he be? This world had everyday technology that was so far more advanced compared to Conora's that of course she wasn't going to be impressed by his makeshift cleaning supplies. But he had already said it out loud, might as well commit. 

"It's a small alchemical ball full of soap and hydrogen. So that when you throw it into a tub and ignite a flame underneath, it combines with the surrounding air to create condensation and voilà, instant bath." 

"Interesting," the woman said, and she did genuinely appear to be so as she adjusted her stance and leaned in a little with her arms upon the desk and hands clasped together. "And tell me what was the inspiration for this 'immediate bath'." 

"Well, umm, there isn't any running water in Corona and sometimes carrying water from the well or the river is a pain." Varian explained, then reflexively, under his breath and through gritted teeth, he added, "Or sometimes you might find yourself in a position where you can't bathe for over a year." 

He hadn't meant for this last part to be heard but Granville commented on it anyways. 

"You've been without running water for over a year?" She asked, concerned. 

"Oh, no. We've never had running water. It doesn't exist in our world." Varian corrected, hoping to distract from his previous comment. This however was not the correct thing to say as Professor Granville only furrowed her brow even further. 

For Granville's part, she was just simply bewildered and more than a little worried. When Hiro had first told her of the boy from another world, she had assumed he came from one similar to their own, or perhaps one that was even more advanced. She'd have never in a million years expected that the inventor of a portal device was from a world stuck before the pre-industrial era. Yet it all added up to appear that way; 17th century birthday, no running water, his biggest academic influence was Copernicus for crying out loud. How ever was the boy supposed to keep up with modern college level studies? And yet where else was he to go? 

So she pressed forward. Ignoring the growing doubt building in the back of her mind. 

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" She asked. 

She was met with only a blank stare from the young man sitting across from her. 

"For example, do you have any career aspirations or personal goals you would like to achieve?" She clarified. 

"Well, I'd like to go home and free my dad." The young boy said slowly. "I haven't given much thought to anything else?" 

"Free?" Granville asked, confused. 

"I mean, see again, obviously." Varian hastily rectified. But Granville was growing ever more concerned, the boy was hiding something. 

"Well I can understand why that would be a pressing matter to you, but surely you've given some thought to the future; some idea of where you might wind up." She encouraged him. 

"Jail?" The boy questioningly threw out. He looked wide eyed now, confused and lost as to what she meant and looking for an answer that clearly alluded him. 

"And why would you say that, Mr. Quirinson?" She pressed.

"Cause that's where I've been for the past year." The boy admitted. He was growing agitated and impatient. He didn't understand the point behind any of this and was slowly getting fed up with the woman's prying questions. Not the least of which because they made him feel self-conscious. 

"I see," the professor said as she began to piece together the clues. Granville had spent several years working in both academics and social services. She knew the signs of a 'problem' child when she saw it. Typically, young kids with unchallenged intellect, accompanied by perhaps a broken home life, would sometimes lash out or make trouble for themselves in an effort to receive attention. The boy's father was missing in some way and he grew up in an unstimulating environment that didn't encourage his creative genius. 

"And because of a mistake or two you don't see yourself rising up to doing anything else." she cajoled; sometimes a push could help inspire the aforementioned child to challenge himself. 

"No. Because they typically don't let you back out after you've committed high treason." He answered back bitterly. Headmaster or no, who did this woman think she was to make such sweeping judgements? He was properly angry now and no longer cared about making a good impression nor about keeping his past hidden. 

He quickly stood up and leaned over the desk to glower at her. "Look, I came here to get help not to be grilled about my past. If you're not interested in giving me the supplies I need then I'll find some other way to get them. But I am not giving up on my father." He angrily pounded his fist on to the desk to emphasize his point. 

Then almost immediately his demeanor changed when he looked back up to see the blackboard behind the professor. "Also the answer to that equation should be 2.6 not 4.6. Sorry that's been bugging me for the past ten minutes." He apologetically stammered in exasperation. 

Professor Granville turned and looked back at the offending equation in question. Glad for a momentary distraction from the growing tension in the room. 

The boy's mood swings were bewilderingly quick and the 'treason' comment had not been something she had been expecting. If he really was from the 17th century then 'treason' could mean anything, to being locked away for scientific study or for simply knowing the wrong people. Given his comments about his father needing 'freeing' she suspected the latter. 

The aforementioned equation was a long physics question with an answer provided, in order to serve as an example to the class. It was far too long to solve in one's head so she had to pull out a calculator and resubmit the numbers into the machine to check the boy's calculations. And to her surprise he was right. She had accidentally written the wrong number up on the board. 

"That...is correct." She replied, double checking the calculator she held in her hand. "You figured out this whole equation in your head in less than ten minutes?" She asked in disbelief. Granville had worked with many gifted students throughout her career, but scarcely any could perform such advanced mathematical problem solving in such record time without the aid of any tools; not even basic pen and paper. And this was made all the more impressive by the fact the child lacked a high school education or even the passing knowledge of more modern mathematical advancements, like those of Einstein. 

"How else would you do it?" Varian replied, not knowing any other way himself.

"A calculator," She responded, holding the device into the air. 

"Wait. You have a machine that does math!?" The boy exclaimed in equal parts disbelief and excitement. 

She nodded and handed the calculator to him. Which he eagerly snatched up, looked at it longingly, and then cradled the device to his cheek while proclaiming, "It's so beautiful," in the exaggerated manner kids often do. He then began to fiddle with the machine, testing out its various functions like a child that had just received a new video game for Christmas. 

"Where has this been all my life?" He excitedly laughed. This device would make checking his calculations ten times easier. 

Granville watched on, bewildered. Who was this child? How did someone from such a primitive world manage to invent such a scientific miracle? In all her 40 years she had never come across such a contradiction before. Just imagine what such a child could have achieved had he been born in a time and place that nurtured his natural talents. 

Then she shuddered as realization hit her. A short range teleportation device was his original intent, Hiro had told her, and Varian himself had mentioned prison and not being let out. And not just any prison, they weren't talking about juvie here, but a 1650s style dungeon no doubt. History wasn't her expertise, but Granville knew enough about that time period to know that he wouldn't have been fairly treated while within there. No telling what horrors the boy had faced in the past year or more. 

Her heart went out to him then and she could have just cried at the thought of this little teenaged boy huddled up in some dark dank stone room. She pushed the image out of her head and regained control of herself. Crying wouldn't help. But giving him the opportunities that had been denied to him thus far would. 

"Let's return to the interview shall we?" She said instead, slipping back into the role of professional administrator and taking her seat again. 

Varian looked up from the calculator he was playing with in confusion. He had assumed his previous outburst would disqualify him but Professor Granville gave him no time to question. 

"Now Hiro has informed me that you are currently staying on campus with Mr. Gari, how is that working out?" 

"Mr. Gari?" He echoed blankly. 

"I believe you and the rest of his friends refer to him as 'Wasabi'." she clarified. 

"Oh, yeah, he's great. Things are going fine." He replied, still confused. 

"Wonderful," the professor smiled back. "In that case we'll keep that arrangement for the upcoming semester." 

"Whatd'ya mean?" 

"I mean, Mr. Quirinson, welcome to SFIT." She said with a warm smile as she handed him a pre-typed acceptance letter that she had tucked inside the folder. 

Varian read the letter in bewilderment. He was being accepted into a university? Him? And not just any university, but one specifically for the study of science. He couldn't help but give a breathless laugh. He'd honestly never thought that he'd ever be given such a chance, especially after such a disastrous interview. But no, the woman at the desk seemed genuine in her approval. 

"Now if you'll just sign these forms you'll be granted a full four year scholarship, or until you finish, whichever comes first." She said as she slid the folder over to him and handed him her pen. 

He signed his name upon the dotted line as his stomach filled with giddy butterflies. It all hardly seemed real. His dad would never believe it. Oh how he wished he could run home, wrap him in a hug, and tell him right now. Surely something like this would make him so proud. 

He blinked back tears at that wishful thought and finished signing the other papers the professor handed to him. When done he looked back up at her and she said, "Good. Now because of your... unique, situation; there will be a few extra steps you'll have to complete before classes start next week. Which I'll talk to you about as I give you a tour of the facility."

With that she stood up and walked to the door and held it open, once again indicating for Varian to follow her.

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

Varian stood outside next to the physics building where he had first started the day, waiting for Hiro to join him. He leaned against the wall while sucking on a small lollipop the school’s nurse had given him. Professor Granville had given him a quick tour of the school, a folder full of important papers, and instructions for how to proceed with his education. The final stop was the medical office where she had left him with the nurse in order to attend to other business. 

Said nurse had given him the ‘vaccines’ that Wasabi had told him about; the near magical medicine that was supposed to prevent certain illnesses. The shots had stung a bit, but it was all over very quickly and the kind woman who administered the procedure gave him some colorful sticky bandages and let him pick his favorite flavor out of the bowl full of suckers sitting on her desk.     

He was just finishing off the last of the butterscotch flavored treat when Hiro finally found him. 

“Hey! There you are! How did it go?” He asked. 

“Well, she admitted me into the school but she said I had to do some stuff first before she could fully enroll me.” Varian replied.  

“Yeah, what kind of stuff?” 

“I have to take something called a ‘General Educational Development’ test and a ‘Scholastic Aptitude Test’. She gave me a study guide and was going to give me both tests on Friday.”

“Ah.. yeah, you wouldn’t have an eligible high school diploma here. But it’s fine. I took similar  tests in order to graduate early. They’re not that hard, the only thing that should trip you up is the history stuff, but we can all help you study for them.’ The young boy offered. 

Varian smiled back at him appreciatively. It was nice to know that he now had people in his life that he could depend upon for help.    

“So what else?” Hiro asked. 

“She also gave me an extended reading list. I don’t have to read every book on there in a week, thank goodness, but I’m to keep up with it for the rest of the school term so I can catch up on things that the rest of the students will already know. I also need to give her a ‘photograph’ of myself that she can put onto a passport and something called a ‘visa’.” Varian scratched the back of his head in confusion as he said this last bit. Apparently one needed lots of documents and forms in order to maneuver within this country's society. Granville had asked him all of those questions at the beginning of his interview precisely because she was going to help procure those official papers for him, or forge similar facsimiles that could do in a pinch. 

Hiro nodded along. “That makes sense. See it’s a good thing you met with her. Granville has connections that can help with things like that. Also she’s the only one who even thought of it to begin with.” He laughed. “Man, that would’ve been bad if someone like Chief Cruz found out you were here illegally. Anyways, you can take the ‘photograph’ using your new phone. I’ll help and show you how to email it to her. Wasabi set you up with an e-mail right?” 

Varian nodded yes. That was one of the functions of the internet that Wasabi showed him yesterday.  

“Great! I’ll also email you the stuff I found on Project Silent Sparrow. It’s the portal project that Krei Tech was working on.” 

So Hiro spent the rest of the day with him, with Baymax also tagging along, and together they helped Varian take his picture and send it to Professor Granville, gather up some of the books on the reading list from the library, and briefly went over the project files behind the portal that sent him here. 

After Hiro and Baymax had decided to go home, Varian made his way back to the dormitory. He couldn’t wait to tell Wasabi all that had happened. However, as soon as he opened the door he was met with the sight of Wasabi chasing Ruddiger around the apartment with a broom. Food, slimy shampoo, and various other items were strewn about the place and Wasabi was covered in soap bubbles while Ruddiger himself was sopping wet. Varian sighed and closed the door behind him. Looks like telling about his day would have to wait.

[satonthelotuspier]

ooooh could we get 2 or 5 maybe for sangyu pretty pls?

Thank you so much for the prompt, Anon. I think I picked out the right prompt list for this, if not get back in touch and I’ll try again. Either way I hope you enjoy :)

I was a little worried about this; because we don’t get any MXY in canon I’m never really sure how to characterise him. I have put him in the Dreams AU but he has a very specific purpose there which dictates his character. For this AU I’ve decided to go with a more scholarly MXY - logic being he did work out how to use WWX’s demonic sacrificing curse from his papers, this also meant the no 5 prompt worked well with his personality.

In this verse canon events didn’t happen as you’ll see from most people being alive. JGS died early and JZX took his place as Sect Leader and was much better to his half brother, probably with JYL’s influence. MXY (now JXY) is very happy with his life at Koi tower, but of course there’s just that one thing missing...

He woke up to the beam of sunlight shining in through the library window and onto his face.

Jin Xuanyu blinked several times and rubbed at his face; then glanced down at his ink stained hands. He hoped he hadn’t fallen asleep on wet ink too; it would take so long to scrub off and he really needed to look his best today.

Wait. Today. It was today.

He had to go and get cleaned up quickly, what if he arrived and he still looked like he’d fallen asleep at his desk in the library? Despite the fact that was what had actually happened.

He rushed towards the door, but halfway he remembered something and had to return to pick up the paper he had been working on last night.

He folded in carefully and tucked it safely into his robes then ran to his rooms. He encountered his sister-in-law and Sect Leader’s wife Jiang Yanli on the way, with his nephew Jin Ling. He skidded to a halt and offered her his respects.

She chatted briefly but she could also see he was in a great rush and as she was ever considerate she didn’t keep him long; Jin Ling offered the barest respects required, purely because his mother was there.

His nephew held him in low regard due to the fact he pursued a mainly scholarly path of cultivation; never having a strong aptitude for a more martial route, which Jin Ling did respect. He was boring in his nephew’s eyes; something he could live with. Probably it wasn’t helped that he was an awkward age; neither the same age as Jin Ling’s parents, therefore due more respect, nor the same age as Jin Ling and his peers, therefore a potential playmate.

He excused himself once they’d finished and rushed on.

Once back in his own house he arranged to have a bath drawn and paid careful attention to scrubbing. He had smeared ink on his cheek while he slept which took some cleaning up, the same went for that covering his fingers. The ink in his nail beds was just something he’d have to live with; it was all the result of scholarly pursuits, like a sword wielder would develop callouses on their hands.

Once clean, unusually for him, he paid careful attention to his appearance. He could normally be found haunting the library and music rooms of Koi Tower in his unremarkable black robes, hair caught up in a careless ponytail. Today he chose golden robes embroidered with ivory coloured peonies to match his clan’s colours and emblems.

He had a servant help him braid some golden beads through his hair too; the braids a bow to the styles the Nie clan were frequently seen to wear in their hair.

He checked the final effect and barely recognised himself. He’d never been strikingly handsome like his brother; he had many of his mother’s features which softened what he had inherited from his Jin blood into a more gentle attractiveness. Secretly he was glad that he didn’t look much like his “father”.

While people assumed he should be thankful to Jin Guangshan, because he’d done the bare minimum as a father figure and brought a young Mo Xuanyu to Koi Tower to study cultivation before he died, Jin Xuanyu was much more thankful to his brother Jin Zixuan and his brother’s wife Jiang Yanli, who had done much more to make him welcome, find the correct path to cultivation for a young man who had shown no talent for marital pursuits and utilized his natural intelligence and tendency to studiousness to both progress and contribute to his clan as one of Jin Zixuan’s advisors.

He dismissed the unusually elegant looking figure in the glass and made his way to Jin Zixuan’s side so they could prepare to welcome the arrival of the other clans to the discussion conference Koi Tower was hosting.

It was a tiring day, especially for someone who was more comfortable surrounded by book and scrolls, musical instruments and painting materials than actual people.

He was pleased to see Jiang Yanli’s adopted brother Wei Wuxian here with his husband Lan Wangji; Wei Wuxian had always had a lot of time for Jin Xuanyu, they had often talked and philosophised together long into the night in the past. They both had a skill for the dizi too and he hoped he might find time to convince Wei Wuxian to share more of his expertise.

But there was really only one person he was desperate to see today. And then the Nies arrived and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Nie Huaisang was with his brother, Sect Leader Nie Mingjue, and really Jin Xuanyu hadn’t considered what he’d do if the former had decided not to attend; that thought had never occurred to him, but he was extremely thankful it hadn’t turned out like that, otherwise all the effort he’d spent convincing himself and working himself up to making his confession would have been wasted.

Nie Huaisang had also been one of the few people to spend time and talk with Jin Xuanyu over the years, and while he would always be thankful to the others, it was Nie Huaisang he had given his heart to. Not that the other man was aware. Yet.

Nie Huaisang stood at his brother’s shoulder, his delicately painted fan open and fluttering rhythmically. As ever he was sumptuously dressed with his hair caught up in an intricate design full of braids, his delicate features only just avoiding being set into a look of pure boredom.

The Jins moved forward to greet the Nies and Jin Xuanyu had to work hard to not drift off and just spend the time staring at Nie Huaisang instead of assisting his brother in his duties as host.

***

It was after the feast that evening had ended and before Jin Xuanyu had intended to find Nie Huaisang when he came across him talking with Wei Wuxian. He was loathe to insert himself into the conversation but Nie Huaisang noticed him walking past and waved him over.

“A-Yu will know if there’s any shenanigans to be gotten into while the dull people attend the discussion conference tomorrow” Wei Wuxian patted him on the shoulder. They had both called him A-Yu from being a young boy when he had first been brought to Koi Tower, and, except in formal situations, neither of them had ever stopped.

“Well, there is a festival in a nearby town. I hear they’re showcasing several brewers from the countryside as well as local taverns wares. You may enjoy that” he said and Wei Wuxian’s eyes did indeed flash in interest, “Or the fishing is particularly good this time of year in the local rivers”

“Well I think a little visit to the festival might be just what we need to distract us from the tedium”

“Wei-xiong, I think you might be right” there was a happy grin on Nie Huaisang’s face, “A-Yu, you’ll come with us too?”

Whilst Wei Wuxian referring to him as A-Yu was a slight annoyance, it was a blow to hear it from the object of his feelings. Was it just habit or did the other really still see him as a child? He was twenty-five now; he hadn’t been a child for a long time.

“Zixuan-ge may have need of me, I wouldn’t dare put him to such inconvenience” although he really would like to attend the festival with these two troublemakers he was aware of his responsibilities.

“Rubbish, the Peacock can do without you for a day, I’ll go agree it with him now. I need to find my husband anyway, lets meet tomorrow just before midday. You’re coming too, don’t forget, A-Yu” and Wei Wuxian left with a wave.

Jin Xuanyu could feel his breath stick in his chest again; he had been handed the perfect opportunity now he had been left alone with Nie Huaisang, dared he actually take it?

“It would be nice to have someone care for you like Wei-xiong and Lan er-gongzi do” there was soft trace of longing in Nie Huaisang’s voice, and being handed an opening like that how could he justify not making his confession?

“Nie Huaisang, I can give you a list of how you make me feel...” he reached into his robes and pulled out the folded paper he had worked on yesterday, holding it out.

Nie Huaisang stared at him in complete confusion, then disbelief. He reached out to take the paper from Jin Xuanyu’s shaking hands, a look of amusement finally settling on his delicate face.

If Nie Huaisang laughed at him he might actually just die here and now.

“Why don’t you try using your words, instead?” Nie Huaisang told him instead and he was about to point out the words he wanted to use were on the paper the other now held in his hand, but he realised at the last moment what he meant.

“Oh. I see. I like you, Nie Huaisang, I’m in love with you”

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Signs of Character

Here you go @xdeusxmachinax !

(For the sake of this piece Angor Rot survived the Eternal Night and traveled with the trolls to New Jersey.)

~~~~

~~~~

Claire wished she had a flip phone so she could harshly snap it closed; as it was she had to settle for aggressively shoving the cellphone into her bag.

It wasn’t that she had very high expectations (she had learned early on to set them low) but she had thought that they would make the effort to make just one night… even just the first act… Was that too much to ask?

Jim had borrowed Strickler’s glamor mask and come to every single night. The only reason he wasn’t here now was an inescapable Trollhunting call. He had still dropped by to bring her flowers before leaving. (She was going to need more vases.) Toby had showed up yesterday and cheered so loudly at the end of the performance that several people had glared at him. Blinky had made it to opening night and watched from the rafters and then had shown up a second time with Aaarrrgghh to watch from behind a curtain backstage. Even the ever busy Dr. Lake had made an appearance.

Claire sighed and peered through the curtain. It was closing night. They had almost a full house and none of her friends could make it. She hadn’t been too bothered by that because her parents had promised to come… but then they had bailed on her… again.

She tried not to read too much into it. Her Mom’s job kept her busy, her Dad as well. They had Enrique to take care of. On top of all of that they were helping Barbara find homes for the Familiars. Of course they didn’t have time to make some stupid play…

Claire’s fingers curled into the curtains, clenching until her knuckles turned white. She grit her teeth and swiped at her eyes. This was nothing. She was used to it. She was stronger than this. It was just a play, after all. Not some big, life-changing event. She drew in a deep breath and started to let go of the curtain.

Movement drew her gaze to the back of the darkened auditorium. As she watched a tall African man began to work his way through the back row, glaring in annoyance until he found a seat next to the fire exit. He was dressed in a loose, but appealing, patterned brown robe with dark trousers that looked rather out of place among the standard styles of New Jersey. His long greying hair was done up in tight braids and pulled back into a low pony tail and, most arrestingly of all, he only had one eye. It was an unusual golden-brown.

Claire frowned as she searched his face. He felt familiar.

She jolted when he made eye-contact with her. They stared at each other for a moment, across the distance of the stage and audience, before the corner of his lips curved upward into a smirk. He held out his hand, palm upward and fingers clawed. Claire’s brows drew together in puzzlement. Purple magic, a shade darker than hers, sparked between his fingers and his eye glowed yellow for a second.

No. Way.

“It’s time Claire.” One of her crewmates tugged at her shoulder.

She released the curtain and scrambled into position, her mind still churning. There was no way that was Angor Rot and yet… She’d recognize that magic anywhere. Also that eye.

What was he doing here? And how did he look human?

Claire made it through the first part of the play without incident… but only barely. The moment the curtain went down and intermission was announced, she was scrambling off the stage in search of the mysterious visitor.

He wasn’t in his seat, or anywhere in the audience for that matter. Claire let out a groan of frustration but quickly pasted on a smile as various theater-goers approached to talk or ask for photos.

Finally, just as the intermission was nearing its end, she slipped out of the crowd and into the hallway. Disappointment gnawed at her insides. Had she just imagined him? Had she been that desperate for affirmation?

A very familiar chuckle brought her back to the present. Claire dodged to the side, pulling her own dagger out of her skirts to deflect the blow. She pushed the weapon away and jumped backward, putting distance between herself and her assailant so she could get a look at them.

“Very good.” Claire froze at the voice. “You appeared distracted so I chose to test your awareness. You are learning well.”

The man from the audience stepped out of the nook he had been hiding in and faced her. To the casual onlooker he seemed loose and relaxed but Claire knew better.

“W-what?” She sputtered. “How?... Why?”

Angor Rot smirked and indicated with a hand at his body.

“This is just an illusion… I believe we went over those?”

“Yes,” Claire said, relaxing just slightly now she was sure he was done testing her. “But why haven’t you… If you could do this then….”

“Why didn’t I use it before?”

Claire nodded.

Angor sheathed his knife and folded his arms behind his back.

“As convincing as this is, an illusion is just an illusion. It would not have protected me from sunlight. I could not have used it in conjunction with the shadow staff either. The magic drain would have been too much given both spells are shadow magic.”

Claire nodded, mentally jotting the information down. They had discussed energy drain and its relationship to types of a magic a few weeks ago.

“Besides, this does not have quite the intimidation factor of my true form.”

“You still haven’t said why you’re here.” Claire crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I assume you didn’t just show up to attack me in a dark hallway.”

“Five minutes until the end of intermission,” A voice announced over the PA system. “Please return to your seats.”

Claire didn’t move, watching Angor Rot intently. He returned her stare, eye half lidded before letting out a quiet grunt and looking away.

“This is important to you, isn’t it?”

Claire blinked.

“Yes but…”

“You are my student,” Angor continued. “You have put as great an effort into this as any hunter ever did pursuing their prey; it is only natural that I should come to observe your triumph.”

Claire froze, eyes wide, her words failing her.

“Besides this… Play… has been no trial to watch. The story is… strange… but you and your fleshbag companions are worthy performers. I anticipate the conclusion.”

Angor strode past Claire back toward the auditorium. On the way by, just for a second, he grasped her shoulder.

“Well done.” 

The words were so faint Claire almost thought she had imagined them.

She turned and stared at where he had been for a minute. A smile slowly formed across her face. It remained there as she hurried back toward the stage.

[ladyadalicialove]

MLB Dupain-Cheng Wedding and Marinette’s Birthday theory!!

An updated version of this theory can be found here. Some new info was revealed and I decided to talk about it.

Here I have developed two theories; when Sabine and Tom got married and Marinette’s Birthday. I have finalised two dates as to when they got married and when Marinette was born. This is pure speculation by the way, so take what I say with a grain of salt!!! 

The Dupain-Chengs Wedding Date THEORY:

To figure out when they were married I gathered clues from all available episodes.

Lets start with “Timebreaker”! In this episode Sabine says they are celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary with a special dinner. And since “Timebreaker” was in season 1, this episode is speculated to have occurred sometime sometime in February-April.

I have theorised that “Backwarder” is set in either April of 2011 or May of 2018 This is because Adrien, Gabriel, Kagami and her mother are going to attend a Royal Wedding in England. And Thomas Astruc must have been inspired by a royal wedding and since this episode aired in 2016, Astruc would not have known about Harry and Meghan meaning that Kate and William was probably his source of inspiration.

So if Tom and Sabine are celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary in February-April 2011 or 2018, that means they were married in 1991 or 1998.

However in consideration to the style of Sabine’s dress, it is more likely to be in 1998. 1991 Wedding dresses were extremely puffy, most likely due to the after effects of the 80s fashion. Sabine’s wedding dress actually closely resembles the wedding dresses of the 2000s. Meaning that it is highly likely the wedding happened in 1998, here’s a photo comparison.

(Credit: Me, I googled some pics of both 1991 and 1998 wedding dresses and created this collage.)

Basically since Sabine doesn’t look like any of the snow beast brides of 1991 and closer to 1998 wedding dresses, I think it’s a safe bet that it was set in 1998. FYI: I did loads of wedding dress research and her dress is closest to the 2002 bridal styles, especially with the BOHO-chic fashion trend. 

Now fun fact, this means we actually know when the exact date they were married because of Marinette’s calendar (which is basically Adrien’s Schedule) back in “Timebreaker”. The episode as we know starts off with Sabine talking about their 20th wedding anniversary. However in this episode, Alix and Kim have their rollerblade race, This is the only episode we know of to have rollerskating in it, and in Marinette’s calendar April 6th is marked as “Roller Time”.

(Credit: https://amour-chasse-croise.tumblr.com/post/142955283453/miraculous-ladybug-timeline-complete )

This means that April 6th is the day that Tom and Sabine were married!! (And Alix’s birthday lol)

So this concludes that…

Tom and Sabine were married on April 6th of 1998.

Also this means that Tom married Sabine when he was twenty!!! Because he turned 40 in Bakerix which is set in 2018, we knows this because the events in “Bakerix” happen before "Backwarder", as the inauguration of Startrain is shown. And we know “Backwarder” is set in May of 2018, meaniNG BAKERIX IS HAPPENING IN EARLY 2018!!!!

Our bakery boi snatched his wife with that broom-stache at 20 holy moly. I wondered how old Sabine was, I think she might have been 19, making her 39 in “Bakerix”. Love to hear anyone’s theory on Sabine’s age.

This means that Tom and Sabine totally dated in high school. oMG SO CUTE!! Can’t wait to draw the art for that one!

The Date of Marinette’s birthday THEORY:

This theory isn’t as concrete as the previous but I had to do some hard core predications and assumptions!! So don’t take my word for it!

It took Tom and Sabine a couple of years before they had Marinette. Because we know she is 14 in “Befana”, that means she was born in 2003 or 2004 if this episode took place in 2017 or 2018. And according to the MLB wiki timeline, Befana takes place in July, meaning Marinette is born in July. No joke the wiki has a timeline. 

If we look at her personality we can actually determine what part of July her birthday is on with zodiac signs!! July 1st to July 22nd are members of the Cancer zodiac sign, and July 22nd to July 31st, are a part of the Leo zodiac sign.

I did a little research for Cancer because as a Leo myself, I know that sign pretty well. And guys, “Cancers are born people-pleasers and emotional caretakers.” and not just that but “You’ll often see Cancer women busting their butts behind the scenes building props on theatre or movie sets, or as head chefs making magic in the kitchens of busy restaurants. These women prefer to work with their hands, and do work that they feel emotionally connected to, rather than spending hours staring at spreadsheets or mathematical abstractions.” (source:https://www.astrology.com/cancer-woman.html)

MARINETTE IS A MEMBER OF THE CANCER ZODIAC SIGN CONFIRMED SHE IS A CRAB!!!!! CAN YOU IMAGINE HER LIKE THAT I CAN 

So we can confidently say her birthday is between July 1st and 22nd, we just gotta find the specific date!! Here’s another clue I found thanks to another birthday theory on Amino; In the Webisode "My Birthday Party", Marinette's voice over says "It's my birthday on Saturday". (In the English Dub)

Now the webisode was released in 2016, while “Befana” was released in 2017. In 2016 would have been 12 if Marinette was born in 2004, which is inaccurate as she was 13 when she received the miraculous. Meaning she is born in 2003 making her thirteen in 2016 the year of the webisode aired!!

Now if her birthday in that webisode was set in 2016, the Saturday’s between between July 1st and 22nd land on three dates. The 2nd, 9th and the 16th of July.

How do we narrow the three dates down to one I hear you ask? Well Kung Food is set sometime after July 14th according to this tumblr user, meaning we can eliminate the 16th because her Great Uncle would have mentioned her birthday but he didn’t.

(Credit: https://ladybug-x-chatnoir.tumblr.com/post/138842131342/here-is-a-visual-timeline-based-off-of )

Now that means it’s either the 2nd or the 9th. I think if we look at the school dates when the year “Befana” takes place we may determine her birthday.

So if Marinette is turning 14 in “Befana” and if she is born in 2003, that means “Befana” occurs in 2017. In the episode she talked about being at school that week, and “yesterday” she caught Nino listening to her fav song at school , however she did not mention being at school on her actual birthday. Which in 2017, Mari’s birthday is on a Sunday and I had to check but France does have Middle and High schools that choose to have courses on Saturdays. So we are deficiently in the right timeframe!

It occurred to me that July is when Summer Holidays begin for France. And according to this website, France’s summer holidays begun on July 8th in 2017.

(Credit: https://www.renestance.com/blog/2017-school-holidays-in-france/ )

Now if we rewatch “Befana”, we can see that the classroom is bare of any school work or posters. Now everyone who has been to middle or high school knows there are big clean ups that happen the day Summer Holidays begin. And that’s what I think we are seeing here. A completely clean classroom ready for a new year.

(Credit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTz8SC39s24)

I can conclude then that Marinette’s Birthday is on the 9th of July, and she was born in 2003!! THE PROOF IS IN DA PUDDIN THAT IS ADRIEN LOL!

So to quickly resummarise this double theory of mine:

Tom and Sabine were married on April 6th of 1998.

and

Marinette’s Birthday is on the 9th of July, and she was born in 2003.

Wow I spent six hours researching all this and now I’m super tired, I’m posting these theories because I will be MIA during May and possibly June because of Exams and Assignments for Uni. Enjoy reading this and I hope to hear your opinions and thoughts!!

REMEMBER THIS IS JUST A THEORY

Posted on 5th of July in 2019, sometime after Bakerix aired.

[alfvangr]

the moon and its love for the sun’s light

starter for @fenrena

The mind’s perception of time is a slippery thing. Seconds tick by as if possessing the consistency of syrup; days turn into weeks turn into months in the blink of an eye. It seems like it was only yesterday that he’d passed through the monastery’s gates for the first time, put on a mask and told lie after lie after lie to create Alfonse Laurante and hide Prince Alfonse of the Kingdom of Askr under lock and key. Time does not follow anyone’s pace but its own, however, and the reality is that entire months have passed since the start of his deception.

(He often wonders how his peers will react, in the event that the truth is exposed. With anger? With sadness? Or something else entirely? Has Sharena asked herself the same questions, having been in the same position for far longer?)

A yawn interrupts his train of thought, eyelids growing heavy as the lateness of the hour registers within Alfonse’s mind. Classes await him come morning and he should get what rest he can, yet he finds himself more concerned with the corkboard hanging from the wall to the right of his desk—or rather, the calendar pinned to it, with a handwritten note on the square for tomorrow’s date: Sharena’s birthday. Don’t forget!

The prince huffs through his nose, mouth curved upwards just enough to form a soft smile. He’d written the reminder at the start of the month in case it slipped his mind somehow—the sheer astonishment on her face when he’d forgotten his own birthday has yet to leave his memory—considering her present has been sitting in a drawer since he’d unpacked his belongings on the first day, though, clearly there was never a need to worry in the first place. Even if he’d thought about getting her a better gift on numerous occasions—something without the telltale signs of an amateur’s work.

Another yawn, head drooping ever so slightly following it. Mother always celebrates their birthdays with cake and presents of her own, but with both of theirs passing while they're away from home... Oh. An idea breaks through the haze of fatigue—Alfonse hastily scribbles a note onto a loose scrap of paper before finally allowing himself to leave the desk chair and get dressed for bed. He’s put off rest for long enough; feet stumble their way toward the bed once the lights are doused, and he falls asleep almost as soon as he closes his eyes.

Morning comes, and with it the sound of two firm knocks against the door to his sister’s room. “Sharena? It’s me.” Almost wonders if he’d shown up too early before it opens and her face peeks out, looking no less bright than usual—though her hair is a mess and he’d caught her in the midst of transitioning from sleepwear to student uniform. Fingers twitch at Alfonse’s sides, resisting the urge to sit Sharena down and fix royal blonde tresses into their usual style as he often does for her. “...Should I come back later?”

[carleencl]

WINNER Cross Tour in Manila

January 25, 2020 - 2 months ago, I have attended WINNER Cross Tour in Manila which was held at Mall of Asia Arena. This is the 3rd time they are coming here since the WIN era, and I’m so thankful that they decided to have Manila included for their Cross Tour. 💙

The concert was a 3-hour long that I surely enjoyed and had fun! There were parts that was for Manila Inner Circles like WINNER dancing to Sarah Geronimo’s “Tala” and dressing up with Hanbok since their concert also falls on a Lunar New Year. Read more and know my fangirl experience during WINNER’s Cross Tour in Manila.

Days before the concert, my friend and I was waiting for the announcement for the raffle winners of Soundcheck, Fan Meeting, and Soundcheck hoping to win at least one of them. And luckily, we won a Soundcheck pass to see WINNER!

BEFORE CONCERT

My friend, Lizette and I went early to MOA to get our tickets, wristbands for soundcheck, Cross album, and basically just fall in line the whole day. Falling in line was basically 50% of our morning activity that day.

We went inside past 12nn and the guards asks us to fall in line again while waiting for the time for us go inside. We went inside at around 3pm for the soundcheck.

SOUNDCHECK

Here’s how near we were standing to the stage while waiting for WINNER’s soundcheck. Photos, videos, or any recordings were not allowed during the soundcheck, thus the lack of videos or photos. But nonetheless, I made sure that I enjoyed the moment watching WINNER up-close.

The soundcheck lasted around 30 minutes. WINNER sang 3 songs namely: Air, Love Me Love,  and Ah Yeah.

During the soundcheck SeungYoon asked if we already ate:

SY: Have you eaten your lunch?

ICs: Noooo

SY: Why?? Why did you not eat your lunch? You need to eat, you need energy.

*ICs explains how’s the day has been*

SY: Ahh you were in line waiting for us? Thank you!

ICs: YEEES!!

Mino then said: “Sigaaaaw! Good Morning!”

Those 30 minutes will be so memorable and be cherished especially remembering how close I was with WINNER - seeing them again. 💙

CONCERT

Inner Circles kept on singing along while WINNER’s music videos were playing on the screen. We even requested for the sounds to be louder cause it was kind of hard to hear the songs. 🤣

After a few repeated music videos, the lights were finally turned off and a video of WINNER was shown.

WINNER opened the concert with their hit song, ‘Everyday' followed by ‘Love Me Love Me‘.

Everyone was so energetic seeing WINNER again on stage. We were singing so happily along with WINNER.

Seunghoon even said, “Mga bibi ko!! Make some noise!!” which made the crowd cheered more.

After Love Me Love Me, they greeted the whole crowd.

YOON: This is Seungyoon! Manila!

WINNER: Hello, this is WINNER!

YOON: Annyeong! Mabuhay! Welcome to the Cross concert, Manila. Thank you for being with us with this great moment. Let’s start the show!

JINU: Hello everyone! I’m Jinu! We’re so glad to be in Manila, here. Thank you for coming. Let’s have a great time!

MINO: Wazzup Manila! This is Mino from WINNER! I miss you just so much. Finally, we comeback to Manila to see you all again. Are you all ready? You’re ready guys?

ICs: YEEEEES!!!

MINO: C’mon, make some noise!

*ICs cheered more!!*

MINO: Thank you!

HOONY:  Kamusta???! I can see all my Hoonies right here!! Namiss niyo ba kaming lahat??! Namiss din namin kayo!!!

YOON: Are you ready?! Alright, let’s go to the Islaaaand!

'Island‘ was performed next then, 'Really Really.’ I could hear the fanchants all for WINNER. 💙

A short clip was shown as WINNER went backstage. It showed a short skit that was truly WINNER style. 😂

‘Mola,’ ‘Dress Up,’ and ‘Special Night’ were performed by WINNER.

Seeing them see to perform again live was so surreal. It felt it was a party than a concert. Everyone was just having fun with WINNER.

YOON: With this special band, we prepared a special stage for you to enjoy WINNER’s emotional music. Alright, Manila, are you ready?!

WINNER started with their emotional songs with ‘Different, ’Have a Good Day,’ and ‘Raining.‘

Hearing ‘Different’ brings back the starting times with WINNER. This song was surely a very emotional song for every Inner Circle.

‘Have a Good Day’ was next and WINNER really made those emotions of the songs feel right in our seats.

A little upbeat song, ‘Raining.’ Vocals of the four were such on point and made me believe they really ate their CDs. 😂😂😂

‘OMG,’ and ‘Empty’ were up next to continue more with their emotional songs. I really do love all their songs. Each song is a masterpiece. 😭😭😭

Hearing ‘Empty’ also made me so so emotional. 😭 It just reminds me so much of their WIN and debut era. 😭 💙

While WINNER went to the backstage, their band played some music.

The solo stages were up next and Seunghoon was the first one to perform. He performed, ‘Flamenco,’ and ‘Serenade.’

His dancing skills was really on point! 💯 Hoony made everyone scream with his performance.

Hoony mentioned, “This is song is for all my mahal ko. Who’s my mahal ko? You’re my mahal ko, right? You guys, ready?” and it was the ‘Serenade’ song.

TOO. MUCH. FAN. SERVICE. 😂

Jinwoo was next with his song, ‘Call Anytime.’

Jinu was mesmerizing while performing and at the same time so cuuute. 😍 His voice was just so calming.

He performed ‘Call Anytime’ with Mino. Mino even said “I love you, Manila!”

This stage was just so cuuuute and charming, those two is just so... 😍

Next was WINNER’s leader, Seungyoon! 

YOON: Hey Manila! Are you good? Let’s go!

Yoon sang ‘Instinctively,’ and ‘Wind.’

Seungyoon’s voice has just this charismatic feeling that keeps you attracted to it. 💕

After singing ‘Instinctively,’ the crowd keeps cheering: “Kang Seungyoon! Kang Seungyoon!”

YOON: Wooow! You are amazing! 1st floor.. 2nd floor.. until 4th floor? Wooow!

Alright, I hope you guys got some good energy. Please sing along with this song, ‘Wind’ and I’ll sing it for the fans.

‘Wind’ was performed and another charismatic performance by the leader. 💙

Mino as next and performed, ‘Trigger,’ and ‘Fiance.’

We were looking for Mino on stage but he was not there but instead, he was singing backstage. 😅 🤣 

Mino was giving a different vibe with his performance. It’s always always different, but good different. MINO = 🔥 🔥 🔥

Mino is Mino, and he never fails to amazed me (well, everyone in WINNER is, actually!). 😍

After all the solo stages, WINNER was on stage again started singing the chorus for ‘Movie Star.’

‘Movie Star’ is one of the songs that I really do love hearing live while Inner Circles also sing along with WINNER. 🎤  This reminds me of WINNER Everywhere Tour since this was one of our fanprojects last 2018. 💙

WINNER went backstage, and another video was shown.

The video was about WINNER talking about the trainee/WIN era to their first music video as WINER. Everyone was like “Awww” 😭 😭 😭

Next song performed was ‘So So,’ and ‘Don’t Be Shy.’

Seeing ‘So So’ performance live for the first time was really different compared to watching them perform through videos.

They changed their outfits with this stage and having their own personality shown with their clothes.

‘Don’t Be Shy’ was such an adorable performance. It’s a feel good song that you can listen to anytime.

During, we were looking for Seunghoon because he was not on stage. We later found out he was on the standing part! This Hoony really gave all the fan service!

It was time for another ment and talking to the crowd.

YOON: Hey!

ICs: WINNER! WINNER! WINNER!

YOON: You heard two new songs, right? ‘So So’ and ‘Don’t Be Shy’. Are you guys having fun tonight??

ICs: YEEES!!!

HOON: WINNER! WINNER! WINNER!

ICs: WINNER! WINNER! WINNER!

YOON: Ookay, thank you very much!

Guys, here’s our special audience. You know, Sandara is in here for the concert. Where is she? Can you see her? There!!

Thank you Sandara! And of course, thank you Manila, Philippines!!

How was everyone? We’re back with a new album and new concert for this tour so we’d like to meet you again, and we did! We practiced and prepared ourselves for the show. Did you like it?

ICs: YEEES!!!

YOON: Every time with this part, every step this part, we used to learn each other’s solo dance and with this part but today, we came back to Manila again. Hoony prepared something special for Manila, right?

Are you ready, Manila?! and Hoony are you ready?!

HOON: Yes, I am!!

YOON: Hoony, the teacher who is special. Tell them!

Then Seunghoon performed Tala! Yes, Sarah Geronimo’s Tala!!

And he was amazing while dancing. Really every move is on point! Our dancer was so so good and every one was singing while he was dancing.

ICs: WINNER! WINNER! WINNER!

YOON: Wow!!

MINO: Teacher, teach us!

*Seunghoon teaches WINNER the steps*

HOON: Solideu?! SOLID!!

YOON: SOLID!!

HOON: SOLID!!

WINNER did try to learn ‘Tala.’ 😂  And they even dance to it! This was just so memorable!

YOON: SOLID!!

Thank you for teaching us. (to Hoon)

MINO: Tala, Talaaa, Talaaa~

YOON: This one is really the most famous in the Philippines?

ICs: Isa pa! Isa pa! Isa pa!

One more time! One more time! One more time!

*Hoon started to dance Tala again*

MINO: Ayoseu dito-ah!

YOON: Ayos dito ha!

Hey Manila! We arrived in Manila yesterday and we met the fans in the signing event. Thank you for such a special memory and I hope to have more chances to meet you guys.

We had a plan for Philippines festival, right? We couldn’t come here. So we are really sorry. Anyway, guys.. we are hanging to the last part of the show.

ICs: NOOOOO!

YOON: Aww, nooo. Ahhh noooo... You are not tired, right?

ICs: YESSSS!!

YOON: First floor, you are not tired, right?!

ICs: YESSSS!!

YOON: Second floor, you are not tired, right?!

ICs: YEEEESSSS!!

YOON: Third floor, you are not tired, right?!

ICs: YESSSS!!

YOON: Are you seating down now? (🤣🤣🤣)

No, no, stand up! Thank you!

HOON: Sandara, are you ready???

ICs: YESSSS!!

YOON: No not you! Sandara!

DARA: YEEEAAAH!!!

YOON: Okay okay, if you are ready..MAKE SOME NOISE!!!

Let’s go Millions!!!

***EDIT: Editing this on March 20, 2020 and WINNER keeps dancing ‘Tala’ on their VLive. They can’t move on with Tala! Seunghoon even remembers the steps. 💙

And ‘Millions’ was performed next!

Since everyone was still so hyped with their ment earlier, the crowd was singing so loud with WINNER during this song.

‘Ah Yeah’ was the next song WINNER performed.

Every Inner Circle was just so hyper and energetic! You can feel the happy vibes inside the arena.

The fun during the concert just can’t stop with their song, ‘Immature.’ They look so happy while performing with this song.

WINNER is just so adooorable. 💙 

‘La La’ was up next and here everyone including WINNER was so wild!!

WINNER 💙 We’ll always remember WINNER forever.

Poor maknae leader but just so adorable!!! 💙 💙 💙

LIGHTS WERE OUT.

Another video was shown of WINNER practicing.

When the video ended, it was time for Inner Circles’ fanproject to sing for WINNER to call for an encore.

Encore started with their sonng, ‘Luxury.’

The members have a toy gun that dispenses paper money with their faces on the money.

This part was funny since Mino dispensed all of the paper money in an instant, he checked the toy guy again cause it wasn’t letting out any paper money. 🤣 He acted so sad in a cutely manner.

So what he did, he grabbed all the paper money that as on the floor and threw it on the crowd instead. 🤣

After all those paper money, ‘Boom’ was the next song performed.

With this stage, they still continue to get those paper money on the floor and throw it at the crowd. 🤣

Afterwards, WINNER greeted everyone a Happy New Year since the Manila tour falls on the same day as the Lunar New Year.

HOON: Maligayang Bagong Taon!

YOON: Maligayang Bagong Taon!

WINNER: Maligayang Bagong Taon!

YOON: Happy New Year everyone! Today is Traditional Korea's New Year, the Lunar. So we wore Korean traditional clothes, Hanbok.

Inner Circles started their fanproject for Seungyoon which was to sing ‘Happy Birthday.’

ICs: Happy Birthday to youu! Happy Birthday to youu!

YOON: Why are you singing a birthday song? Who's birthday?

HOON: Happy Birthday!

YOON: Thank you guys! But it's the fifth (25th), guys! It's not my birthday!!

Thank you guys!

Wow Manila! Thank you for my birthday. Thank you, yaaay!

You have one more this (banner)? This?

*Hoon reads the banner from ICs*

YOON: Hey Manila! Let's take a picture with us.

HOON: We'll take a picture-ta! Picture-ta!!

YOON: Hey guys! Thank you making such a beautiful day.

Who's first?

MINOO, how was it today?

MINO: First of all, thank you for the meaningful night. Thank you for being here(?) Happy 2020! Always take care of yourself. I had a great time today and hope to see you again. I love you guys! I love you Manila!

JINU: I was so excited today. Thank you very much! Please stay safe everyone. I will comeback!

HOON: Yeah, nag-enjoy ba kayong lahat? Kayong lahat? Masaya din kami kasi nag-enjoy kayo. Sa totoo lang, matagal na namin kayong gusto makita.  Malungkot kami kasi nacancel ang huling event. Manila, kaya di namin kayong makakalimutan ngayong gabi. Babalik kami!! Wag niyo kami kalimutan!!! Wag niyo kamiii~

MINO: Please hold ooon

*Seunghoon started singing*

HOON: Wag niyo kamiii~ Wag niyo kamiii~ Wag niyo kamiii~ kalimutaaaan.. kalimutaaan.. Promiiiise!

Wag niyo kamiii~ kalimutaaan

Manilaaaa, kalimutaaaan~ Promiiiise!

*Mino started rapping*

Mino: Manila, Manila

Manila, Manila

Manila, I like you

Nice place, Manila~

And I like you, Manila

I’m here in Manila, back again

So that I can keep coming back here

Call us a lot,

Back~ Let’s have lots of events

We’ll cross the ocean again, so please wait

I’m so happy!

(trans credit @inseo4life)

YOON: Wow! Amaziing!

Hey guys, now, we are so happy and thankful to be with you guys at our world tour beginning of the year, 2020.

Alright, looking back, every time, everyday, every second with you. It was the brilliant moments of my life. Thank you for making the brilliant moments today, thank you Manila. I hope you remember this one until we meet again.

You made a movie called, ‘Youth’ with us, and the title is ‘WINNER.’

Thank you Manila!

Alright, let’s move on the ‘Really Really’

Everyone say, Yeaaah~

ICs: Yeaaaah!

YOON: Say Manila!

ICs: Manilaaaa!

YOON: Say WINNER~

ICs: WINNER!!

YOON: Let’s go Really Really!

‘Really Really’ was performed for the encore.

It was REALLY REALLY like a party with WINNER and my fellow Inner Circles. 💙

Seunghoon even made a headstand and after falling I think he said, “I’m so hungry! I’m so hungry...” 🤣

The concert with the last two songs: ‘La La’ and ‘Everyday.’ And with this part, I wasn’t able to document the parts that good since I was enjoying the whole part.

WINNER sprinkled water to the standing area and the crowd even went wilder with it.

‘Everyday’ made everyone just jump for WINNER knowing it was the last song for the concert.

Inner Circles will ways remember WINNER everyday. 💙 

As WINNER’s getting ready to leave the stage, Seungyoon said: “You guys are so crazy tonight! Thank you for making a brilliant day!”

YOON: Thank you Manila! Thank you for your beautiful voices, Manila!

I really did enjoy WINNER’s 3-hour concert. Last Everywhere tour it lasted for about 2 hours and I was suprised this Cross tour was 3-hour long. WINNER Cross tour was so much fun and no regrets seeing WINNER again (and again!). 💙

Truly, another artist that showed what real talent is all about. Thank you WINNER for not giving up during your trainee days and becoming WINNER, the artist that Inner Circles loves and supports.

We will always remember you and will wait for you until you comeback. 💙 💙 💙 

➡️ Here’s my own vlog + fancams that runs around a 2-hour mark. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy watching!

You may lower the volume since you may hear my gibberish sing alongs and fanchants.

SETLIST

Everyday

Love Me Love Me

Island

Really Really

Mola

Dress Up

Special Night

Different

Have a Good Day

Raining

OMG

Empty Band Jam *Hoon Solo*

Flamenco

Serenade *Jinwoo Solo with Mino*

Call Anytime *Yoon Solo*

Instinctively

Wind *Mino Solo*

Trigger

Fiance

Movie Star

So So

Don’t Be Shy

*TALA*

Millions

Ah Yeah

Immature

La La Encore

Luxury

Boom

Really Really

La La

Everyday

◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️ ◾️

💌 CONNECT WITH ME ↪️ Facebook ↪️ Instagram      ↪️ Foodgram ↪️ Twitter ↪️ YouTube

[ephrampettaline]

.. chatzy log for Soapberry Pride 2019, at Erzebets with @thisbrutalbelle

Bella picked up a red macaron on one of the tables scattered around the edges of the room. Like whenever they hosted events the tables usually there had been cleared out and replaced with a collection of lounges, though most people had to stand. That evening was open mic for whoever wanted to go on stage and sing, or play some kind of instrument they had one stage. Currently there were two girls up singing 'Smoke Weed Eat Pussy' by Ängie and Bella hummed along once she got the tune, eyes scanning the room as she chewed on her pastry. "Hey, you better be going up," she said when she spotted someone she recognised.

Ephram demurred, "Well, now, I don't know no songs bout smokin' cock and crack pipes, so there's no way I could compare with that act." Ephram smiled and reached out for a macaron, deciding on taking two. "The place looks amazing, Belle. How you manage to make Erzebets look totally different for each new event is pretty fuckin' impressive."

"No one expects you to be nearly as skilled," she grinned at his own tease and her own. "Honestly having everything black on black basically makes it a canvas," eyeing him as he picked up food, smiling when he took more than one. From what she could tell Ephram was very much embracing Pride this year and had been to a few events. "You're really not going to go up?" she asked. "Come on, you came all this way."

Ephram shrugged, the white blazer he was wearing resettling itself on his broad shoulders. "Been a while since I sang in public," he said. "Maybe I jes need a lil more liquid courage afore I can go up there, huh?" Ephram finished his cookies and brushed a couple of crumbs off the front of his black, slightly see-through shirt. "I mean, hell -- it's takin' me enough gumption just to be out in clothes like this, to be honest."

"Liquid courage is definitely something we can do," she told him, taking one of his hands and pulling him in the direction of the bar at the front of the place. When there she released him to head behind it by herself and make them something. "You didn't wear anything last year that was more pride like?" she asked him, spacing on what he'd worn. Freddie's look had been very memorable but Ephram's was evading her. "Why did you need a bit of bravery to come out as you are?" she asked, meaning his clothing.

Ephram looked down at himself, blinking. "Reckon I din't feel as much like I could do it last year," he mused, plucking at his fur lapel. "I mean, you know me, you know where I started at. Jeans and flannel and workboots and t-shirts, basic straight drag. Clothes like this was always..." He trailed off, not caring to talk about Anaxis right now. "Always for somebody else, not me. I cain't even recall what I wore for Pride last year ... I think I was workin' most of it, so I would of been in uniform, anyhow."

"Well faux fur suits you," she complimented, recalling in her mind what Ephram had looked like when he was younger, back in Apple Falls, with that long hair and perfectly pouted lips. He'd lost a lot of that plush styling to himself as he'd grown older and she wondered if perhaps he missed it. As for who else he meant she didn't connect the dots. Even dressed up Ephram wasn't dressed like the demon. "Expand it to your daily wardrobe, put it on the Sheriff's uniform."

Ephram gave a little snort, tapping his fingertips along the bar. "If it was that easy," he said wryly. "Look at me, I ain't no willowy pretty boy no more! And I'm the town Sheriff. And a million other reasons why if I suddenly started wearin' fashionplate clothes -- even in my own style, which sure as hell ain't fashionable -- it wouldn't go down real well. Naw, I reckon I'll just get it all out my system during Pride, and save the rest for Freddie."

Bella reached out, her other hand on the bar, pushing a clear drink towards him, and ran her fingers through his hair. "You're pretty, I can show you," she offered him. "Let me do you make-up," she requested, assuming he may need some liquid courage to agree if a fur neckline had taken a few deep breaths before leaving the house. "Besides, you're sheriff in a town where people are a bunch of things. Only shitty people will get made if you dress differently. Not saying you have to, but I'm sure more than Freddie would appreciate it." Bella's fingers left his hair and came down to pick up her own drink. "So, can I do your make-up? I'll make your lips look as pouty as mine." With her words she held out her drink to touch his if he agreed.

Ephram took the drink, downing half of it before considering Bellamy's offer. "I'm okay," he said in response to her calling him pretty. "I mean, I'm a grown man now, we don't all stay lookin' androgynous as we get older. And it's ... probly more my own worries about what folks are gonna think than anything what would actually happen, I know that. Soapberry ain't like other places and that's a fact." Ephram paused to beam quietly to himself, his love for his town swelling through his chest. "You can put makeup on me iffen you want, I don't mind. I had a big ol' video game character-lookin' red stripe on my face all day yesterday, after all." Ephram clinked his glass with Bellamy's, draining the rest of it.

Bella heard the clink and a wide smile spread across her face. Who didn't want to be pretty? Even when they got older. "Come on, I have a bunch in my office," Bella grabbed the bottle she had made their drinks partially with, not intending to carry up a tonne of ingredients before dragging Ephram once more across the restaurant. "Some worries are a lot harder to deal with than others," she acknowledged as she linked her fingers between his own and guided him through the place he had been to so very many times before. It was strange the amount of memories they had there. Places in Soapberry really clung to them, people moved a lot but most businesses and town land stayed the same. "Well I'll try and do something that will match what you're wearing, so it won't be a big red stripe," she informed him as she opened her office door. No furniture inside was the same as the last time he saw it but the walls and tiled floors were the same. "You doing okay?" she asked him as she released his hand, placing the gin on the office desk before opening a cupboard to find her make-up.

Ephram nodded automatically before clicking in and asking, "...doing okay how exactly? I mean, what way? I'm doin' okay in general, I mean actually I'm doin' pretty fuckin' great in general, but I don't wanna...." Ephram gave Bellamy a faintly apologetic grin. "I don't wanna make this conversation awkward, honestly." Bellamy's office was the site of a lot of their escapades, way back when, but to Ephram that felt worlds away. A change in decor made much more difference to him than it did to Bellamy, with her eye for decorating; to Ephram, the whole place could have been picked up from some other building and replaced Bellamy's old office. "Do I get a couple lil yellow and purple stripes?" he teased, wandering around to look at her new (to him) decorations and furnishings.

"Is there something that isn't okay that could make our conversation awkward?" she asked, a furrow over her brows because while she could easily assume it was about her that seemed kind of selfish and also kind of unlikely. Maybe it was but Ephram's life involved a lot and Bella got awkward about a lot of things, or emotional in some way anyway. "Feel free to make it awkward," she offered as she picked through some things she felt would do what she wanted. Not foundation and bright lids, but just...accentuate features that aged had perhaps dulled for him. "I will keep a level voice and, since I can attempt to do this for other people, try not to let my imagination get away with me." With what she needed in her hands she gestured to the couch, the newest item in the office since she and Ryden had broken the last one. If shown images of her old one and the one she had now she'd certainly see they were worlds apart but it was a slow process of replacing things and replacing those things that made it like growing, you just didn't notice over time. "Come on, what's not okay right now"

Ephram obediently went over to the couch and plopped down, shouldering out of his jacket and turning his face up (which wasn't really necessary, given how tall he was and how short Bellamy was). "It's all good, though," he protested with a laugh. "Freddie and me, we dealt with a man who's been a threat to him since he was seventeen, and part of that, well -- I got the demon under control. For good. For real and for good." Ephram gave Bellamy a look that matched the hopeful sound of his voice when he asked, "Don't I look different? Better, less tired? Now that I got -- I got all my magic, Bellamy, ain't nothin' siphoning it off no more. I feel like my whole body's been renewed, somehow." The excitement and pleasure about this change was pouring off of him, Ephram shifting on the sofa as if he was running with so much heightened energy that he could barely sit still. "Be happy for me, honey, please, I want you to be happy about this. It's good. It's a good thing."

Bella tilted his head slightly back down before laying the products out on his lap as he began to speak, listening as he spoke of something Freddie was going to. Seventeen was young and Bella knew little about Freddie's life but to be threatened for that long it was probably a relief to be done with it. He continued quickly though, speaking of himself...and Anaxis. His hopeful voice caused her to lift her face and when she did she examined his. In the lights of Erzebet's it was not easy to see but in her office she could, eyes wandering over the lines in his face. Admittedly he still looked tired to her but he was human, the dark circles from existing weren't going anywhere but he definitely looked lighter, the muscles in his face not nearly as tense. His request came likely off her silence from studying him, the way her lips tightened when she focused that matched the confused face she could make when she was upset, but she wasn't and quickly relaxed her own muscles to smile at him. "I am happy for you," she assured him easily, a hand reaching out and resting on the corner of his shoulder and neck. "If we had not been so surrounded I could have smelt it on you," she grinned, her thumb rubbing over his vein tenderly, she could feel it. Freddie's own magic remaining but Ephram's stronger. "Sounds like you really are pretty fucking great," she repeated his own words. "What do you intend to do with your newfound magical abilities?"

Ephram grinned wide and loopily at Bellamy, open-mouthed and without -- like she'd noticed -- the strain and lingering tension that he'd carried in the background of his mannerisms for so long. Nobody in Soapberry, he realized, had ever seen him without the effects of Anaxis, and how he'd laboured unendingly to keep the demon contained and to try and tune out its cacophonous torment in his brain and his body. No wonder Cardero had been staring at him like he didn't recognize Ephram. "Thank you, honey," Ephram said gratefully, taking her hand and planting an enthusiastic kiss on her fingertips. "I'm learnin' to control em! Ciara's teachin' me. I got so much of it I barely can control it, heh."

Everyone knows this woman, Bella thought to herself as Ephram's lips pressed to her fingers, softer than they had been before. She wondered how much of the difference in him was not having his powers taken and how much of it was just the sheer fucking relief of it, the safety that enveloped him now. The way he gussed at her with affection in a way he hadn't in a long time seemed like safety and comfort. Her hand squeezed his gently, drawing it down to his lap. She went to speak, to acknowledge that his head was finally his own but she paused, mouth hung open slightly because the words got stuck. Maybe Anaxis was in there, buried deep, but he wasn't in Ephram's head, he wasn't draining him, or bullying him. It was basically just Ephram and it had strangely taken a moment for that to sink in, Bella lunging forward, free arm wrapping around him, drawing him to her, while the other remained in it's awkward position as it was held by his own. "I love you so much," she assured him, feeling like it was the first time she could say that without the implication it was a love she retained in the hopes Anaxis would return. "I'm so glad it's you, it sounds like it will be so wonderful." Her words were whispers as she held him for a short time.

Ephram was startled by Bellamy's sudden, affectionate weight against him, but it felt so good, so right, that he barely hesitated before squeezing her in a tight embrace that took complete advantage of her not needing to breathe. "Oh, sweetpea," Ephram murmured into her sweet-smelling hair, all caramel and vanilla, "oh, Bella, I love you too, girl." For the first time in a long, long time, Ephram could say those words without any underlying unease -- and part of that felt like it came from Bellamy, too, not just his own newfound lease on a life free of constant gnawing torment. "I feel like you're only jes meetin' me for the first time, a bit, though, huh?" he teased, holding her a little away from him just so he could see her face as they talked. "And you feel ... different too. Lighter. More ... thoughtful." Ephram cocked his head at her. "Big changes for you too goin' on?"

It was nice when he held her back, not that she thought he wouldn't, but Bella needed it. That fullness that came when someone reciprocated affection. And even though realistically she knew he knew she loved him, and she knew he loved her, the weight that was filled by what underlying things that could mean wasn't there. She fell back a little when he spoke, as he did too, their limbs still close to one another. That was something she had missed with Ephram, just being close, but even this felt oddly different because it was just Ephram, no tense reminder of Anaxis on his skin. "Definitely," she agreed before scrunching up her face as he called her thoughtful. Bella still felt selfish but maybe she'd spun it differently. "Oh um, I guess, not nearly as exciting or as wholly wonderful as yours though, I'd much rather focus on you face," she said, pulling further away, hands coming down to the make-up that had fallen in her sudden movement. Her knees still brushed against him but she was finding some eyeliner in a navy. "When you go back downstairs everyone will be like 'he had fillers'," she joked, uncapping the lid.

Ephram was a little disappointed that Bellamy didn't want to talk about herself, but on the whole, he supposed that it might take a little more time and easing back into being around each other for her to feel comfortable with that. So he put it aside for the moment, preferring to concentrate on the here and now, a tactic which had never steered him wrong. "Okay," Ephram said, holding himself still again. "What's fillers, though? You gotta remember, Bellamy -- I might have a fashion-forward husband now and all, but that don't mean I know much more about the means and methods of lookin' good than I used to."

"To be fair, Freddie never would have mentioned what fillers are because he and I are beautiful enough to not need them, and I'm sure he knows you're handsome enough that you don't," Bella commented, taking his jaw in her hand and looking up with her eyes as an indicator for him to do the same. "Fillers are when you get something injected into your lips to make them bigger." Once he was looking up she gently moved the liner beneath his lash line, being a vampire she could actually do this steadily enough it shouldn't have made him blink unless he just hated things near his eyes. "Did Freddie buy what you're wearing or did you go ham with a credit card?" It wasn't that Bella didn't want to talk about herself, she just didn't want to have the smile on his face fall. She could talk about herself another time, when he hadn't shared such good news.

Ephram looked up as Bellamy showed him what to do, keeping his blue eyes wide and open for her to start in with the eyeliner. "Ohhhhhh I see. Yeah that would be the last thing you or Freddie would need, for sure. He's got such a beautiful mouth. Sometimes I just space out thinkin' bout it, I mean, it's sorter unfair, ain't it? For a man to have a mouth that pretty." The dreamy quality to Ephram's voice made it clear in just what way he found this to be 'unfair'. Ephram raised his hands to Bellamy's hips, waggling her gently as she worked on his face. "He bought the shirt and the brooch thingie, I bought the rest. He's been real good at biting his tongue when he sees me cobble together my own bizarre outfits." Ephram laughed, keeping himself from scrunching his nose. "No, no -- he's super encouraging, only he makes lil suggestions here and there when I get it in my head to dress myself. And I appreciate it. He wants me to feel good dressing how I want, and he knows that the better I look, the more confident I'll feel. It's a good system we got."

"In my experience boys always luck out with the best 'female' features," she commented, even looking at Ephram's lashes made her jealous. Her own, when not wearing fakes, were a light brown and short, barely noticeable while his, despite their light shade, were long. His hands at her waist she stayed focused, finishing the second eyes liner before finding some mascara before he was able to move. Bella didn't think sorely when he said Freddie tried to keep his lips tight when Ephram wore funny things. Bella knew from experience that it wasn't because someone genuinely felt their partner was embarrassing so much as they knew they just had a better eye for things, and they knew their partner well enough to make adjustments. "Well, I think you look dashing and I'm sure he agreed. Miles basically dresses up when he knows I really want him to, otherwise it's jeans and a tee, but I'm a sucker for basic boys, as I'm sure you recall." Anaxis and Valentin were the only men in Bella's life who had dressed with refinement and they weren't exactly people she had dated, just obsessed over. "I can bet you he is wearing the more official pride badge this week, no feathers."

Ephram clucked at Bellamy's supposition about which of the Pride epaulettes Miles had gone for. "Sounds like a safe bet," he agreed. "You should try and get 'im to wear the feathers even if it's just once! It's a liberating feeling. He might get a taste for it, heh." Ephram blinked when the mascara wand approached before figuring out what Bellamy was intending and holding still again for it. "Sometimes guys with more manly features make better drag queens, though," Ephram said with all the wisdom of somebody who watched RuPaul religiously with his husband. "Funny how that works, huh?"

"I should, I'm sure his daughters could convince him. I'll ask his youngest Ellie to do it, he can't resist her," she said of his children. Bella was still nervous about them sometimes, well not them, but how exactly she was meant to behave, but she liked how happy Miles was when they were around and she liked how much more open he was tto doing things. "Not sure he'd get a taste for it, he partially dressed up one Halloween for me and I have yet to get him in a full costume, which sucks because I really want someone to do Swamp Thing for me this year. I might try and convince Ryden to be the Alec Holland to my Abby Arcane." Bella pulled a stern face, giving her best Crystal Reed impression, Ephram was probably too busy to have seen the show. "True!" she agreed, especially since there were so many shows lately. "I love whenever buff men wear heels, beautiful calves," she commented finishing Ephram's mascara before begining on his brows. It was the second last step, she wasn't trying to do him over after all, just return some of the features that had fallen a little. "I don't think I could convince Ryden to get into those though." Bella looked at Ephram's brows with focus, Ryden said some awful stuff sometimes and Bella knew why but it didn't justify any of it and it was his business so there was no explanation to give. "And Miles is not buff enough."

Ephram listened closely as Bellamy talked about Miles' kids. Ephram himself had only had water-cooler chats with Miles about his family and children, nothing terribly in-depth, but quite obviously Bellamy knew all their names and personalities and whatnot. He couldn't tell how comfortable the little vampire was with the whole situation, but Ephram supposed if she felt all right with talking about them to Ephram, then she was making a concerted effort to integrate and blend. Not an easy thing to do under any circumstances. "I don't know a danged thing bout Swamp Thing," he admitted, chuckling. "But I support your idea to badger Ryden into it!" He snorted when Bellamy mentioned the idea of the young wolf wearing heels, though. "Naw," Ephram drawled, "he ain't the type to pull that off. Miles might, if he tried." Ephram tried for about a quarter of a minute to hold in his own gushing before he burst out with, "Freddie bought these gold Louboutins shoes with super high heels and he looks fuckin' gorgeous in em, Jesus Christ. I could fuckin' lick those shoes when he's wearin' em, they look like candy. Bright gold shiny candy."

Bella nodded as she finished his brows, fortunately in the process of switching products when he blurted out that Freddie had purchased amazing gold Louboutin's because Bella burst into laughter, starting with her trademarked snort. The idea of Freddie in beautiful golden heels was obviously hot, it was just funny how much Ephram /needed/ to say it, and how he described it so vividly. "You could? Or you have?" she teased back, picking up the lip liner she had in the closest shade to the colour of his lips, opening her mouth to show him how to - not stretched but just not closed. "I couldn't lick anything near anyone's feet, my sense of smell is way too strong, but I don't know, he's fae. His feet probably smell like sunshine and honey."

Ephram had the grace at least to turn a little flushed at his own inability to keep from vociferously adoring his husband at any opportunity, grateful that Bellamy was indulging him on the subject. "I haven't," he admitted. "Not yet. He was goin' out when I saw em first and I din't wanna keep him. But I would." Ephram huffed, amused, at the description of sunshine and honey. "Not quite that, my darlin's flesh and blood and that's the way I like him. But he does always smell real nice, which I reckon is a fairy thing, yeah." He did wrinkle his nose this time, waiting till Bellamy was done with the lip liner to say, "--good thing he likes the way I smell, since I sure as hell ain't roses and perfume."

"I hate when they're so handsome and have some place to go," she pouted, which felt like every morning Miles had to work after she'd stayed over. "You /will/," she answered his 'would' with. The description of Freddie smelling nice was vague but Bella also didn't figure she needed to know or would be sniffing Freddie anytime soon. "You smell wonderful to me, but everyone except seafolk smell pretty good to me." Bella inhaled hard, focusing on Ephram's scent as she put the lid on her lip liner she'd filled his lips with. "You smell so much more...full bodied. More flavour." Yet since she was done she pulled out her phone, turning the camera on selfie side and handing it to him so he could take a look.

Ephram agreed with Bellamy, he probably would make that particular little fantasy a reality the first opportunity he got, but he didn't say anything more about it. Like his burgeoning forays into exploring his queerness, his genderfluidity, the newness of certain sexual exploits wasn't something he was quite confident enough about to discuss. He could still hardly find the right words with Freddie, much less on his own. But he appreciated Bellamy's encouragement and patted her hip in thanks before taking the phone to look at himself. For a moment, Ephram just widened and narrowed his eyes, peeled back his lips to show his teeth, turned his face this way and that, before looking at Bellamy. "Good God," he said, blinking. "That's ... incredible, Bella! You're crazy good at this. Does Miles let you do him up? Or his lil girls?"

Bella was quite proud, grinning from cheek to cheek until he said Miles and she snorted a laugh. "Come on, do you really think Miles would let me. Maybe, if I did it silly for his daughters on him but not really," Bellamy said, she dated the straightest of straight men, which admittedly was not always the most comforting but Bella couldn't totally fault them, she was stubborn in her own ways. "Miles won't even let me eat food in bed, no way is he letting me line his lips," she said with a gentle shrug. "As for his daughters, well, their Mother doesn't like the whole supernatural thing and I don't want to piss her off any more so I kind of avoid doing anything that could step on her toes. Besides, one day I'll have a kid and I'll get to do their make-up and it'll be nice to have that be an experience I share with just them." Bella smiled softly, it was something she wanted, and had for a while now that she felt capable of it but other factors made it difficult. Being in a relationship, especially with someone who already had kids being one of them, but Bellamy had more time than most on her hands. "You look very gorgeous though, totally ready for a performance."

Ephram caught Bellamy's hand. "Wait," he said, the rest of the information about Miles and his ex-wife and their interpersonal politics falling to the wayside compared to Bellamy's other comment. "You're thinkin' of havin' a kid sometime soon? You and Miles, together?" Not as in Bellamy getting pregnant, of course -- that was impossible -- but all the same, it was a huge step. For anybody. "That's amazing, honey. Really it is." Ephram beamed at her, then glanced at his reflection one more time. "Okay, I'm ready. You got me a drink, you put on a face for me, least I can do is give you the opportunity to boo me off the stage, right?" Ephram laughed, getting to his feet and shouldering his jacket back on. "Let's go!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no," she repeated shaking her head vigorously. No way did she need Ephram saying congratulations to Miles at the station come Monday and needing to explain that mess. "No, I just...I think I'm in a place where potentially I could. Miles and I have a lot going on right now, no way we're talking about a kid, I mean, he has kids anyway and I -" /am selfish enough that I wouldn't want him to lose focus on ours when his with Beth came over a few times a month./ "I think we just have a lot to deal with as a couple. I just meant more personally, I think I could do it without it being about me just wanting to not be alone." Bella stood as he did, watching his jacket fall over his shoulders. "Let's go."

[typingoverworld]

McGregor

Today, she was going to see the McGregor.  Alice McGregor had not been home to see her father since her brother’s death seven years before.  Her fingers flexed in rhythm with the churning of her stomach.  She could feel the sweat forming and furrowed her forehead to keep the drops from falling into her eyes.  Forcing her fingers to grip the steering wheel to stop their movement, Alice settled back into the tan leather seat of her brand new Cadillac Crossover and focused on the highway again.

Her father would not approve of a car known for its luxury rather than its usefulness.  She had known since she was a small child that her wants far exceeded what her father believed necessary.  While her childhood friends received presents of dress-up Barbies and Kens, she was given books to read.  For the McGregor, fun was impossible without a sense of accomplishment to go with it.  Alice realized she was gripping the steering wheel so hard that her left-hand ring finger had gone numb.  Her engagement ring was a little too tight for her finger, but the jewelry was worth enough that she would rather have it tight than worry about losing it.

A few moments later, Alice exited the highway and pulled over into the parking lot of a neighborhood gas station.  With a sigh, she wiggled the ring off of her finger and placed it in the zippered pouch of her clutch purse.  She had not told her father about Montgomery yet.  The McGregor would not approve of an arranged marriage—arranged by the affianced but arranged none the less.  There was no love in her engagement—only convenience and common interest.  She wanted to be a politician’s wife, and Montgomery wanted a dignified companion at his side for the pictures.

Alice pulled back onto the road.  Her finger still felt the ring pressed against it—like the phantom sensation of a lost limb.  She felt wrong and lonely not wearing it, but she knew it would be best to speak with her father about Montgomery before revealing her engagement.  Her father was the old fashioned kind of man who would expect to be asked for her hand in marriage.  Montgomery would be coming down in a few days to do just that; she did not want to start out her married life with her father condemning her husband.

Alice made the final turn in her journey from Cambridge to Boston.  She could see the brick exterior of McGregor’s Bar and Grille down the street on the right side.  Lunchtime had called enough patrons to force her to park a good block away from the entrance.  She had dressed rather plainly for this meeting in a pair of blue jeans and a soft, white button-up blouse.  Alice could imagine her father’s reaction if she had shown up in one of the sophisticated outfits Montgomery had bought for her.  The McGregor was never a man who appreciated pomp.

Stepping out of the car and onto the concrete of the road, Alice adjusted her ponytail and shut the door.  Her movements quickly fell into a languid rhythm; she wanted to stretch out these moments.  Car noises gradually blended into the sound of classic rock as she got closer to the double oak doors of the bar.  Closer to her father.

Her white tennis shoes started stepping in time to the up-tempo beat, and she paused for a moment in front of the doors to take a deep, calming breath.  She had always thought the colored glass panes a bit out of place on the doors of the bar, but she admired the bright blues and greens of their diamond shapes anyway.  Exhaling, Alice placed her left hand upon the brass handle and pulled it open, feeling the cool, scaled design press against her sweating hands.

She stepped into the dim interior, and the song’s finale hit her ears with force.  Her shoes sank into the plush red rug marking the entryway, and Alice took a moment to study McGregor’s.  She had expected some grand changes to have taken place, but almost nothing was different.  She recognized some of the regulars—they had a few more wrinkles but were otherwise unaltered.  There were new people scattered throughout, but they could just be passing through.

The same landscapes of the Irish countryside hung on the walls in the same places.  The wall sconces still cast barely enough light to see.  Her family portrait stood as before on the top shelf of the bar—her younger self seated in front of her parents.  As she moved further into the interior, Alice could see that some things were distinctly modified.  The old wooden chairs had been replaced with a padded, newer version and the less reputable tables were supplanted by a more modern style.  The fact that all the tables were not matched made the alterations less distinct than they would have been if she had come in to the find everything replaced.  The McGregor saw no reason to fix something that was not broken so the furniture had never been perfectly coordinated.

* * *

At 8pm on Thursday night, Alice stepped out of the slightly orange cab onto the sidewalk in front of McGregor’s Bar and Grille.  Her black leather heels clicked against the sidewalk as she made her way to the entrance.  She pulled the large door open and her heel’s next landing settled on the plush red rug in the entryway.  

Alice let the door slip closed behind her and walked towards the office door in the back of the crowded bar.  Her heels clicked sharply on the black floor tiles, and the rapid beat drew the eyes of the mostly male crowd.  She knew what they would see: a slightly plump young woman in her mid-to-late twenties.  Blond hair laced with light brown highlights, eyes a little too big for her face, a sharp nose, and a mouth plump enough to match her figure.  Her black business suit with its pink silk undershirt was aimed at a display of feminine power.

She did not feel powerful.  Alice forced her shoulders back and her head high, ignoring the impulse of her body to curl in upon itself.  She had to be strong or risk being pitied.  When she passed the bartender, Alice nodded in lieu of a hello, never slowing her pace.  It took less than fifteen seconds to cross the expanse of the bar and lock the office door behind her—and three minutes before her body stopped shaking.

She settled into the guest chair in front of the desk, carefully avoiding the sight of her father’s empty chair on the other side.  It all belonged to her now.  She was the only one left.  Alice pulled her feet up to rest on the front of the chair and lowered her head upon her knees.  

She had only been out of the hospital for two days.  Her doctor had released her earlier than he thought appropriate because she had told him she would walk out whether or not he gave her permission.  Alice had never been particularly close to her family, but she refused to miss out on their final event.

Gone.  All gone.  And I am all that’s left.

Her eyes began to burn within their sockets, and she struggled to release the breath she couldn’t quite finish drawing in.  Focusing on her breathing, Alice regained a more natural composure and sat up.  This control lasted only a few more moments before she swung her feet onto the desk, pushed her butt towards the edge of the seat and rested her head against the chair back.

This slightly uncomfortable upholstered wooden chair was hers—not the large brown executive chair on the other side of the desk.  She wanted to give it back.  She wanted to tell her father she wasn’t ready for this.  She wanted to hug her mother and listen to the words “it’s all right” being whispered into her ear.  But she could not.  Her parents had been settled into their graves at 2pm yesterday, and Alice would never hear anything again.  The accident which had claimed the lives of her parents had claimed her hearing.

She wondered if it was some kind of punishment.  Sunday was the first time she had seen her parents in seven years.  If she had never come up to see them, they would not have driven to the Fourth of July fireworks display on the edge of town.  If the eight year old boy had been watched more carefully by his parents, he would probably still be alive too.  Lit fireworks placed on the trunk of her parent’s car and nowhere for the little boy to run.

Alice assumed she should feel guilty for their deaths—that seemed to be what every storyline said—but the sharpest prick to her heart was the loss of her life.  She had a responsibility to McGregor’s now.  The red brick one-story bar had stood in downtown Boston for 83 years now, and her life in Cambridge had barely seen eight.

Montgomery would be here tomorrow.  Alice’s chest contracted painfully.  She had yet to tell him she was ripping their life apart.  The doctors had notified him of the accident on Sunday before they realized the full extent of her injuries.  She had only communicated with him through text since she awoke in the hospital bed.  She had never liked talking on the phone and therefore believed her lack of verbal communication had not caused an alarm.  

She could not stop imagining the varied expressions of disgust which would cross his face when he realized she was deaf.  Or the relief when she informed him she would be staying in Boston to run the family business.  He would not have to stay engaged to someone with such a noticeable handicap.  And Alice, she would stay here alone with only the memory of his voice to comfort her.

To her right, the office door began to shake, jolting Alice out of her reverie.  She had been speculating for over an hour.  The clock on the wall beside the door read 9:12 when the solid oak panel swung into the room to rest against the arm of her chair.  The bartender, Ted, stepped inside her sanctuary.  She watched as he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he remembered her injury.  His tan cheeks took on a slightly pink tinge as he stepped to the desk.  Ted quickly found a pen and a pad of paper.  She watched his long tanned fingers as they alternated between writing rapidly and stretching out the cramps caused by the furious motion.

She had met him for the first time at her parent’s funeral yesterday, but Dr. Forrester had told her that Ted came by to see her when she was still unconscious.  She knew he had come to see her parents and taken the sight of her as a consolation prize, but it still cast an almost comical angelic light on such a rugged man.  Alice spent a few amused seconds searching for his hidden halo before she was interrupted by the writing pad he extended to her.

Glancing down at the contents, Alice was taken aback to see that only one line of text was visible—the rest had been extensively crossed out.  It read only:  “What can I do for you?”  She had assumed he was coming in with a business related question.  

Ted closed the office door and knelt down beside the chair, placing his hand on top of her lower arm.  Alice could feel the heat transferring from his body to hers.  It made her comfortable in such a way that she involuntarily closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.  Doctors and corpses had cold hands.  It was good to feel something which radiated human warmth.

She expected him to pull away or attempt to communicate with her again, but he simply stayed there, reassuring her with his presence.  Alice knew she should feel a little embarrassed about taking comfort from a virtual stranger, but she was too relaxed right now to care.  Tomorrow seemed further off than it had a right to be.  She had never been one to put off hard things so the idea of waiting another day to end her relationship with Montgomery made her foot tap impatiently.

When Ted suddenly released her and moved away, Alice opened her eyes and sat up.  She turned towards him and opened her mouth to speak before she remembered that she no longer had a way to ascertain that she said the right thing or used the right tone of voice.  Instead of risking the possibility of making a fool of herself, she grabbed the closest pen off of the desk and scribbled a quick note:  “thank you.”

She saw him mouth a “you’re welcome” before he reached for the pad to write it down.  She waved him off and wrote, “It’s time for us to get to work.  ‘A business has to have love, and loves takes time, patience, and effort.’”

Ted grinned when he read her quote.  It had been her father’s favorite saying.  Ian McGregor had loved McGregor’s with time, patience, and effort.  It would be insulting to her family name to put any less love into the bar than her father had given.  Alice could see her father sitting across from her over twenty years ago when she first remembered him telling her his philosophy.  She knew he had done the same with every new employee.  Although she had only been five years old at the time, McGregor’s saying had struck a chord within her.

It is too late to show my father I am loyal to our family tradition, but I will show anyone else who cared enough to doubt it.

The motion of the door swinging open again startled her out of her reverie.  She expected one of the waitresses, but instead saw Montgomery.  His lean six foot two frame filled up the narrow doorway as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

I’m not ready for this.  I thought I was, but I’m not.

Montgomery’s almost girlishly plump lips were moving rapidly and the concerned expression on his face gradually settled into discomfort when her expression did not change and she remained seated.  She could imagine the thoughts running through his head right now and wanted to reassure him, but she felt paralyzed.  How could she tell him something so monumentally life changing?  How could she show him she did not expect him to maintain a long distance relationship with a deaf woman?  How could she deal with the pain of losing a man who had been the knife by which she had carved out her life for the past few years?

She did not have to.  Before Montgomery’s lips had even stopped moving, Ted laid his hand upon the man’s shoulder and slowly mouthed the words she was unable to say.  Alice could not hear what was being said, but she could guess.  She wished she did not have to watch the blood draining from Montgomery’s face or see the condemnation in his eyes.  As she had expected, Montgomery made a quick exit. No need to provide a goodbye.

Alice clutched at her chest and clenched her eyes shut.  When she opened them, she saw Ted’s eyes transition from wide and round to narrow, and she barely had time to register his intent before he sped out of the door.  Jumping out of her seat, Alice chased him down.  She had known for years that her impending marriage was one of convenience rather than love.  Its loss was not worth the anger Ted was displaying.

Alice managed to grab his arm right before he reached the double doors marking McGregor’s entrance.  When he turned around to look at her, she simply shook her head slowly.  Montgomery always traveled with his own car so he would be long gone anyway.  It was a wasted effort to think he might be dissuaded from his opinion.  Her time, patience, and effort would go into loving this bar.  It would take the place of the important things she had lost—never thinking they were something she would lose so soon.

Alice locked her arm around Ted’s and escorted him back to the office.  They had work to do.

Alysha @ TypingOverWorld 

[drwnng-ophelia]

Hunter and Prey

Chapter 7

Read the first and second part of the story

Pairing: Michael Langdon/OFC

Genre/Warnings: Rated M for future smut, as in dirty-devil-worshipping-sex!

Summary: “I’ve learned now that you were trying to escape it, trying to escape your darkness and demons. But why bother? Why not bask in it, embrace your hunger for evilness. Stop turning the mirrors around, and look at yourself. At what you can become.”

I have posted this fanfiction on Archive Of Our Own, feel free to check it out!

It wasn’t exactly surprising that dessert had turned out to be me. Before I knew it, I was sprawled out on Michael’s bed, naked, with him feasting on me and it wasn’t until darkness reigned that we eventually fell into a deep slumber, exhausted from our own desire. Whereas last night we had been separated by a wall, I was now wrapped in his arms, pressed closely against his body. We were still intertwined, connected, and rested in each other’s presence. When the sun’s rays finally tickled me awake the next morning, Michael still slept peacefully. His breathing was deep and even. Selfishly, I didn’t want this moment to pass, didn’t want to escape this weird bubble we were in.

And yet, I was too curious to meet some of the people that had once been a part of Michael’s life. Hopefully, they would tell me more about him — any intel whatsoever would help me make sense of this beautiful, mysterious man.

Although I had pushed both the feeling and thought into a deep corner of my mind, I knew that he deliberately kept something from me. Whatever it was, it would probably change not only my perception of him but also my willingness to help him. He was the Antichrist after all. Things would get messy eventually.

Yes, my power recognized his, felt comfortable around him, and wanted nothing more than to play. However, my power was both light and dark, healing and harmful, benevolent and cruel. Michael’s was mostly cataclysmic and malevolent, all his compassion, generosity, and warmth seemed suffocated by the evilness that dominated his power.

What worried me was that he had accepted it, he had made the decision to permit this change within him, without looking back. Somewhere, deep inside of him, he was capable of doing great things. And not all of them would have to be evil. The Antichrist could have a conscience, couldn’t he?

Michael tightened his hold around me when I let out a sigh and closed my fingers around his wrist, ever so slowly waking him up at my touch. “You sleep like the dead,” I mumbled and pressed a tender kiss onto his hand. He kissed the top of my head in answer, “As do you.”

“When do you want to leave?” I asked, silently hoping that he would say tomorrow. His fingers drew idle circles on my skin, “Soon. There is a lot to talk about.” A feeling of unease curled deep inside my gut at his tone. Suddenly, his voice was cold again and whatever gentleness he had shown me the day before appeared gone, “You should get ready.”

Smoothly, he pulled away and with a frown I watched him disappear into the bathroom without another word. Although I was confused by his dismissal, I decided to go to my room and pick out a dress for today’s undertaking. For the first time, I would choose with consideration. Not only did I have to present myself adequately, but there was also the prospect of Michael undressing me. Or at least that was what I silently hoped for if he would loosen up again.

Just while I was fastening the buttons of the delicate black silk organza gown, Michael knocked on the door. “Is this satisfactory?” I demanded and smoothed over the floor-sweeping skirt. He only nodded and held out his hand to me. “How do we get there, exactly?” I asked and interlaced my fingers with his. “I’m able to transport us out of the forest. We will have to take a car from there,” he explained. A car? How mundane. Was this how he had gotten me here?

A smile played on my lips, “We don’t have to take a car. If I let you access my power we are able to get wherever we want in the blink of an eye. Think of it as stepping through a door that is hidden between this place, and where we are going.”

“You’re willing to let me access your power?” he arched an eyebrow in surprise.   “I’ll kick you out before you know it, don’t worry,” I took his other arm and placed it on my waist, urging him to pull me close, “Now, feel for our bond, imagine it as a physical connection and follow  it. Move along the line until you reach into me. I’ve opened myself up to you.”

I had never done this before. Never once did I let anyone caress me like that, feel and sense me like that. Use me like that. But then again, I had never encountered anyone worthy of that privilege. Until now.

Michael closed his eyes and concentrated until I felt him touch upon the power that surged through me. But instead of just transporting us, he started to explore, curiously staring into the bottomless well within me. “You need to focus. Get us where we need to be and I’ll show you around some other day,” I warned and shoved him out of a place where he didn’t need to look.

The world around us stilled for a short moment before it went black. As he moved us from one place to the other, through the realms, I held on to him, my power steadying his. In the blink of an eye, sunlight suddenly burned down on us and we found ourselves standing on barren grounds.

“Well done,” I complimented him before I shut him out, building up an adamant wall between us. “You’re trembling,” I realized with worry and cupped his handsome face, “You need to breathe and center yourself.”

Blood began trickling from his nose and I understood that I had pushed him too far. While he may be powerful, his abilities were clearly limited — and moving between time and space across a longer distance was, apparently, one of those limitations.

“You are…much stronger than you led on,” Michael gasped and leaned into my touch, desperate to regain control. I shrugged, “My power has its restraints. Maybe I will tell you about them someday.” With shaky fingers, he produced a handkerchief from an inside pocket of his black velvet dinner jacket. Of course, he would have one of those.

“Here, let me,” I offered and helped him clean up, “I will launder this for you when we get back to the house.” My mocking tone resulted in him chuckling gently. Good. The Michael I had learned to appreciate only yesterday was still in there.

A few moments passed before his body and breathing steadied as if he had to recover from a long run. “Are you feeling better?” I checked.

When he nodded, I folded up the handkerchief and stuffed it back into his jacket, “Then let’s raise some hell.” Michael offered me his arm and after I had hooked mine through it, he guided me towards a dark, tall, volute sculpture. “This is your former school?” I asked with astonishment because I couldn’t detect any spell that would conceal an actual building beyond. “It’s underground,” he explained, guiding me between the walls until we arrived at what would be the doors of an elevator.

“I understand the cavernous basement now,” I noted and could feel the ghost of his blood on my skin. The doors opened on their own account without any of us touching anything, making me snap out of the daydreams of yesterday’s events.

“Don’t expect to find any other answers here,” he clarified as we walked into the elevator. “Don’t take away what little fun I might get out of this,” I warned teasingly and pinched his arm. However, Michael didn’t engage. Instead, his mask of poise and arrogance was firmly in place. He was the Prince of Hell incarnate.

The doors slid away and presented us with a grand entrance hall that was merely illuminated by candles. A lot of flames, considering that there was nowhere to flee should a fire erupt. Interesting. The warlocks must trust their own abilities tenaciously, I concluded.

Our steps against the polished hardwood floors echoed off of the smooth, tall stone walls and it took my eyes a while to adjust to the dim, golden light. A smell of amber incense hung in the air and its haunting bouquet of florals, musk, and resins accentuated the crackling fire around us. This place housed a lot of magic, there was no doubt about it, and my power hummed in appreciation.

Michael led me through the scarcely decorated space that appeared to have been modeled as a modern interpretation of Art Deco architecture and design, with geometrical shapes to be found on arches, doorways, and embedded into the floor. At least this bunker had been made with style to spare, I had to give them that. And it must be spacious, too, considering we hadn’t encountered a single person so far.

This changed when we stepped through an archway and into a two-floor, rounded library. A fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace, but its flames were mostly hidden by three men that stood before it and looked at Michael and me with utter disbelief.

Instinctively my spine straightened and I lifted my chin, but I waited for my companion to say something, or to introduce me if he felt so inclined.  

It was the smallest of them who broke the expectant silence, “So the long-lost son returns.” A triumphant smile spread on his face, while the others looked more misgiving, their suspicious gazes fixed on me. I didn’t have to look at Michael to know the sly smile he was giving his former teachers. I had seen it that night in the alley and just the thought of it made a shiver dance down my spine.

The tallest of the warlocks, a charismatic man whose dark eyes locked with mine, swallowed hard and I couldn’t blame him. Michael in himself was intimidating, but together, he and I looked like the emperor and empress of the night, emanating power, majesty, and a certain darkness. Yes, if anyone could bring this world to its knees, it would be us.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked, the question clearly intended for Michael although his stare was fixed on me. “Claiming my rightful spot as the Supreme,” Michael answered and his tone was cold enough to make the room’s temperature drop.

“It’s not that simple, you know that,” the warlock’s gaze finally slid to Michael, “And, please, have enough courtesy to introduce your female escort.” He folded his arms in front of his body, pursed his lips and waited for an explanation. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. He was feisty and I couldn’t help but like him.

“Yes, I believe introductions are in order,” the third warlock who was wearing black framed glasses agreed and took a few steps towards us, “My name is Baldwin Pennypacker.” He politely inclined his head before gesturing to the small man, “This is our Grand Chancellor, Ariel Augustus.” Ariel gave me a small, acknowledging nod but appeared preoccupied with the fact that his golden boy had returned. His enthusiasm made me question why Michael had left this place to begin with.

“And this is my colleague Behold Chablis,” Baldwin concluded. Behold lifted his chin, unwilling to properly greet us without knowing who I was. Out of the three, he would need the most convincing.

“Valentine is a friend of mine who has kindly agreed to accompany me.” As the words rolled from Michael’s tongue, Ariel frowned. “I thought you didn’t have any friends,” he noted skeptically. “He does now,” I corrected and casually lowered the adamant walls, letting my power intertwine with Michael’s, the strong connection resonating through the room. With a smug smile, I sent a small tremor through the ground, just to make it a little more atmospheric. Fortunately, Michael didn’t as much as blink at the tiny display of my own power.

“Are you one of Cordelia’s girls?” Ariel demanded, clearly threatened by the sudden awareness of having a strong woman in the room. “She’s not a witch, she’s something else,” Michael interjected and I fought the urge to bring down my heel on his foot.

“Pray tell, what did you bring into our midst?” Behold regarded me intently, his eyes narrowing to slits. I didn’t want to tell them what I was, so all I could do was to put some other cards on the table and hope that they would satisfy their curiosity. Michael had been unaware of the existence of the community that I belonged to but, hopefully, these men, so closely connected to the magical society, were better informed.

“I am the protégé of Clémence Joséphinè of Laval,” I spoke her name with more pride than my own and recognition flashed across the warlocks’ faces.

“The Queen of the Undead is your master?” Ariel checked, flabbergasted. I shook my head, “She is my mentor, not my master. She will be the one to sire me because she has chosen me as heiress to her throne.” I felt Michael stiffen beside me and immediately knew that I had a lot of explaining to do when we were alone.

“She is letting you roam while you are still human?” the Grand Chancellor was utterly bewildered, “Why have I never heard of you before? Clémence has never disclosed the existence of an heiress.” “That’s Her Majesty for you, and of course she wouldn’t reveal my existence. Would you openly share your strongest weapon with the world? I don’t think so,” I said firmly.

They would find me now. They would come and take me away. Michael had expected the warlocks to share my location and because he had been stupid enough to introduce me as something other than a witch, they now knew who to contact. However, it was the smarter choice to tell them who I belonged to. Clémence would throw a fit if the warlocks, or any other group of the magical society, knew that I was a goddess. To her, I was like a rare and precious treasure that she was unwilling to share with anyone. And I had always agreed.

The warlocks exchanged looks, silently considering what they could do with this information. “I am here on unofficial duty, though. My only interest is to support Michael in becoming the next Supreme,” I clarified, “And because I do this on my own time, I would advise you not to go running to my Queen. She has never been fond of tattletales.”

“We wouldn’t let that kind of danger into the Academy. We have the responsibility to keep our students safe,” Ariel scoffed and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting. By letting Michael into their school, they had left their doors wide open to an untested, uncontrolled danger that posed a much larger threat than the soulless monster I called my mentor. But, of course, they were unaware of him being what he was.

“Somehow I doubt you speak the truth, Grand Chancellor. Something tells me you’d like nothing more than to run to my Queen to win her goodwill,” I remarked. Michael shifted from one foot to the other, recognizing his own words from the night before. He still wanted to win my goodwill, too.

“I suggest you stay tight-lipped about me being here and, in return, your discretion will prove itself advantageous when I become Queen in the near future.” It wasn’t Ariel who answered me, but Behold, “We acquiesce to your request.” I gave him a deep nod as a sign of gratitude. Apparently, he was the only one with sense around here.

“You should be prepared to stay with us for a few days. We need to contact the Supreme and inform her that Michael has returned to us and now demands his rightful place,” Baldwin explained, “We will prepare two rooms that you may stay in.” “One room will suffice,” Michael clarified and I felt my heart flutter at his words, at the prospect of sharing a bed with him again. Preferably naked.

Behold arched an eyebrow, clearly thinking ‘to each their own’. I found it fascinating that he was the only one who appeared unsettled by Michael. And me, for that matter. For some reason, I expected him to demand where I got my powers from. Truthfully, being Clémence’s heiress didn’t exactly explain them.

“Classes will resume shortly. I would be grateful if the two of you would stay here, for now, someone will take you to your room shortly. During dinner I will announce Michael’s return,” Ariel said and gestured towards one of the two heavy couches, “Make yourselves comfortable.”

The warlocks then filed out of the room, leaving us behind.

Michael pulled his arm away and turned to look at me, “And when exactly were you planning to tell me that you would become Queen of the Undead?”

Read the Next Chapter

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[chriska-partners-4-life]

Child of Love: Chapter 4

A/N: So just for clarification, Harrison never had kids with Melissa. For one reason or another it just never worked, so Carys is his only child.

Things had been running smoothly in the Ford household. Harrison had gone back to work, but still tried to be home as often as he could with his girls. Carrie had done a few minor roles, just to keep her name out there, but nothing that she couldn’t come home every night.

Debbie would watch Carys if both Carrie and Harrison were filming on the same day. Debbie absolutely adored her granddaughter. While sometimes Debbie disagreed with parenting styles, she knew that they were doing a wonderful job and that Carys was happy.

It was the day of Carys’ first birthday and Harrison and Carrie were having a birthday party that afternoon for their daughter. They were trying to keep it small, but when both parents are celebrities with many friends, small can be somewhat difficult. For the most part, they just invited family and close friends. They figured since she was 1 and she wouldn’t remember it, there was no need to go ALL out.

Carrie had been having a hay day prior to the event trying to plan, get invitations sent, make sure everything was ordered and organized. While they weren’t going anything like pony rides, she did want to have a theme picked out. Carrie decided to go with a zoo animal theme. Carys loved looking at the animals and they had taken her to the zoo as a family outing a couple of weeks prior. Her cake was in the shape of a monkey, and she loved it. Carrie had shown it to her the night before when they picked it up.

Carrie and Harrison had walked into Carys’ room that morning singing Happy Birthday, and Carys squealed! Carrie had gotten her bathed and dressed into the special outfit that they had chosen her, and walked downstairs into the kitchen where Harrison was making a special breakfast.

“Can you believe our little girl is already a year old?” Carrie asked Harrison in a shocked amazement. Carrie was getting emotional, because her little girl was a year. To her it seemed like it was just yesterday that she had found out that she was pregnant.

“It seems absolutely crazy, right?” Harrison said.

The small family ate their breakfast, and proceeded to continue getting ready for their day. They had a little bit of setting up to finish, but they had done most of it the previous night while Carys was asleep.

Soon after they had finished, guests had started arriving. Debbie was the first to show, followed by Todd. Slowly, but continually guest had showed up until all of them had arrived. Harrison’s parents were unable to fly in, but they talked to Carys on the phone and were sending her a card. Harrison and Carrie had promised to send them a lot of pictures.

Everyone enjoyed the food, and had a good laugh at Carys eating her cake, which completely covered her face and clothing. Carrie snapped quite a few pictures already and finally it was time for presents. Harrison had helped Carys open her presents, while Carrie was behind the camera. The little girl had been spoiled by her guests with new outfits, dolls, stuffed animals, and things she probably wouldn’t be able to use until she started walking.

It wasn’t long before the guests started leaving, and Carys went down for a late nap. Harrison and Carrie took the time to clean up from the party and relax for a moment.

“Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant?” Carrie asked Harrison.

“How could I ever forget? We were both shocked, but like I had told you then, everything worked out.” Harrison reminded her.

Carrie and Harrison had been married for almost 8 months. Carrie had woken up one morning feeling nauseous, and ran to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, she heaved up the contents of her stomach. She had been feeling off for the last few mornings, but this was the first morning that she had actually thrown up. She was going back in her head to figure out if she had changed anything in her routine in the last week or so, but she couldn’t think of anything.

She went over to the sink to brush her teeth, noticing the bottle of mouthwash was empty, she opened the drawer to get the new one. When she reached in she noticed the tampons in there, and she began thinking. She couldn’t exactly remember when she had had her last period. She calculated it back and then it hit her. She was late. Couple that with the nausea and a few other symptoms she didn’t really think about, and it hit her like a ton of bricks.

She drove down to the drug store, and grabbed a few different brands of pregnancy tests. Harrison had been gone the last few weeks doing PR for Temple, which was still doing wonders in the theaters. He was set to come home at the end of the week, and it was only Tuesday.

Carrie went home and took four tests. She waited five minutes for all four of them to be done. Once she looked at them, she felt a panic. All four were positive. She and Harrison had discussed kids, but that was the possibility of one day. They had only been married for 8 months, and his career was taking off like no other. He didn’t have time for a child right now, and she was just getting things sorted out with her medication and getting a handle on her manic depression.

She was terrified that something was going to happen to this baby, or that this wasn’t the right time. There were some many things running through her head, and she was figuring out how she was going to tell him. Should she wait until he came home, or would he be mad that she didn’t tell him as soon as she found out.

She was sitting on the couch, contemplating what to do, and anxiously for him to call, when she heard a key in the door. She froze on the couch, and he walked into the living room seeing the light on.

“Hello sweetheart, I missed you.” he walked over to her and gave her a kiss.

“Hey honey,” she responded timidly. He knew immediately something was wrong.

“What’s the matter Princess? I thought you would be happy to see me.” He said.

Carrie took a deep breath preparing to explain everything the best she could.

“I’m pregnant.” she blurted out, and before she had a chance to see him react, she began her speech.

“I know this is totally not the right time, and we have talked about kids, but your career is really on the rise. I didn’t do this on purpose, and I’m freaking out because I don’t want you to be upset with me. Plus I’m just getting this whole thing under control with my manic depression. I mean what kind of mother am I going to be anyway? You are going to be a wonderful father, but me… I have no clue how I’m going to be. I am so sorry. I am so so so so sorry. I-“

Before she could continue on, Harrison had put his hand over her mouth.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked gently, tears almost in his eyes. Since his hand was still over her mouth she just nodded her head.

He pulled her into a big, tight hug. Carrie was pregnant. There was a little life forming inside of her. One that was half him and half her.

“I am so happy baby. Baby! You’re having my baby!” The smile on his face was so wide she thought his face would cramp in that position.

“So you’re not upset?” she questioned.

“Never! I know we never sat down and planned this out, but I have always wanted a child. You know that. The fact that the child is going to have is going to be half you too, well that makes it all the better. Everything is going to work out sweetheart. Believe me.”  he told her.

She looked up into his eyes and was expecting to find hesitation or worry, but all she saw was love and joy. I was like the look in his eyes on their wedding day. And so she believed him when he said that it was all going to work out.

Breaking out of her daydream, Carrie leaned over and kissed him.

“Thank you for making me a mother. I know I had my doubts and fears in the beginning, but I am so happy that you were with me in the journey, and that you still are.” she said, tears in her eyes.

“I want to thank you as well. I don’t know where I would be without my two girls. Whenever I feel like giving up, I think about you two and I keep pushing through. Oh, and darling, this is still just the beginning. We have so much yet to go through.” Then he kissed her.

[queen-mabs-revenge]

Looked at your Camelot GIF and the wedding dress. I don't see much difference in style. High neckline, lots of lace and full skirt. I know people have their own views on Emma and who she is, but think this is canon vs fanon. I believe this is Emma's style regardless of fan preferences. I can't recall when and if I have seen her in anything but buttoned up blouses and high neck sweaters. Is it what I would have dressed her in, no. This is the Emma the show's stylists have created though.

I don’t know, I think the two dresses are miles apart, save the general colour and the use of lace?

The Camelot dress has more of a boat neckline which is super interesting and not often seen, but totally reflects the kind of clothes Emma has been going for lately. The colour is an antique white, not stark white, the sleeves are more loose-fitting (granted I understand that SB Emma isn’t going to have long dagger sleeves), the lace overlay has the embroidery that Emma seems to favour, and it’s in isolated areas with a pattered lace between, which gives it a really modern, yet really classic look. The full skirt has a lace overlay that lends it a softness instead of the severity of the satin skirt, the shape of the back and how the bodice comes to a point at the laces is just…ugh so friggin unique and gorgeous.

Simple, understated, but full of rich and unique detailing that recalls Emma’s modern dress style in a way that just feels her and it’s brilliant. That, plus the styling – the long loose waves, the rosy soft makeup, the flower crown? That all feels much more reflective of Emma the character that we’ve seen in recent seasons.

I stand by what I said yesterday, the severe hair, makeup, and the little bump of a headpiece looks like Dark Swan went and picked something out of EQ’s fascinator collection and bleached it. It doesn’t seem to reflect the softer side that Emma has been choosing to go for lately.

The dress is a visual pun. She’s a princess, get it? It’s Grace Kelly’s dress and a weird interpretation of Grace Kelly’s headpiece (like seriously, that weird peak is just strange looking). It’s Grace Kelly’s bouquet. Where is Emma Swan? All for a cheeky nod to her being a princess? Eh.

I know I’ve harped about the rings, but it’s the same story for me. Generic ring, someone else’s dress. Killian dressed like a stock photo groom, location is apparently no where we’ve ever been before so I’m glad it’s super meaningful? And I understand the issues with actor logistics, but it really doesn’t seem like they tried to pull a 100th episode attempt to get old guest stars to come back (like for real, with the preponderance of portal doors around lately, no one would have batted an eye at one or two old friends showing up, and it would have made it feel much more personalised. You know, for the main character’s quote-unquote climactic character moment?)

Nope, this is looking like someone else’s event entirely, in my opinion, and there’s going to be two episodes of slapstick conflict about it instead of dealing with the major character issues that were “addressed” in that two minute barrel-through of a rescue/apology/proposal

I feel like I’m watching my favourite characters slotted into standard wedding tropes just for shallow giggles, resulting in one giant standard wedding trope of an event. 

So yeah, carbon copying the dress doesn’t do justice to the character for me, especially when they’ve shown they can do Emma and do her style uniquely and beautifully.