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sunnydaleherald · 24 days ago

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The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Friday, October 18th

XANDER: Arrr! Careful, me mateys! These be fireflies spat from a volcano off the coast of Katmandu. Arr! LITTLE BOY: You're not a real pirate! Real pirates live on boats and don't look stupid!

~~All the Way~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Unraveling by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Chaptered Fiction]

In the Company of Witches and Slayers: Chapter 165 by VladimirHarkonnen (TheLightdancer) (Willow/Tara, E)

Book Stew! Chapter 13 by MGAllan (Michael [from Gingerbread]/Lance [from The Pack], G)

Kinktober 2024, Chapter 18 by HuonParticlesAreHarmless (Buffy/Giles, E)

Kinktober 2024, Chapter 15 by DancingAngel0013 (Buffy/Giles, E)

Painting Flowers, Chapter 2 by crowncitydreams (Buffy/Angel, T)

Birds of a Feather, Chapter 6 (complete!) by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Oh My Goddess, Chapter 8 by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, R)

Me and the Devil Blues, Chapter 3 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

In Your Dreams, Chapter 4 by Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Giles meme cross stitch pattern by VioletWanes (worksafe)

Wallpaper: Beauty and the Beasts by revello-drive-1630 (Buffy/Angel, worksafe)

Fanvid: Buffy and Spike | Treacherous by iCraveEdits (0)

Fanvid: Buffy and Spike | Guilty as Sin [Buffy The Vampire Slayer] by iCraveEdits (0)

Fanvid: Buffy Summers || Nobody's home by Captain Swann (0)

Fanvid: Buffy the Vampire Slayer- Anyway You Want It by juliaroxs241 (0)

Fanvid: spike & buffy - exile by Giulia Wonderwall (0)

Fanvid: Buffy+Dawn+Joyce | Phantom [BTVS] by leticia (0)

Fanvid: Buffy The Vampire Slayer | Smalltown Boy by Delenadiarixs S (Buffy movie)

Fanvid: Tara MaClay- (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)- Machine Learning by Multifandom_Fanatic (0)

Vidlet: Buffy Summers | Teen Idle (short) by ImagineDragonlords (0)

Vidlet: Buffy, Willow Xander Edit for @fire.is.catching's edit comp! by swiftie.reputation13 (0)

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer 6x06 voiceover | Buffy "Costumes that take over your personality” by A Pixie's Whisper (0)

Audio: Meeting Buffy At Your New School (F4A) (Buffy The Vampire Slayer) (New Student Listener X Buffy) by Violet's Audios (0)

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Spike you're the one Monologue) by Aria Eleutheria Aurora (0)

Music: Buffy The Vampire Slayer Theme --- Fingerstyle Guitar Cover + Free Tabs by Jacob Neufeld - The Little Strummer Boy (0)

AI Music: The Gentlemen are coming by. - reimagined by NeXuS JWF (0)

Video resource: Buffy and Oz scenepack by Scenepacks (0)

Video resource: Buffy and dawn scenepack by Scenepacks (0)

Demon design: From the Archives: Black Death Demon - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 7 by Christopher Burdett (worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Weekly Watch-Along [October 10th-October 18th] by BPD-and-Lipstick

Video: DWR 426 Buffy The Vampire Slayer 1992 by The Dream Warrior Review Podcast

Video: Is the Buffy Movie 'Good Actually'? by Better With Bob?

Video: Thoughts On Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV Show by ramboraph4life

Video: Summary: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Season 1) by Romi Pegaro (in Spanish)

Video: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE Slayer, beyond myth, icon of strength and courage! by SerieTvRetro (in Italian)

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4: Episode 9 - Something Blue by The Cheshire Kiwi

Video: The Killer in Me-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: Buffy The Vampire Slayer Library Edition Season 8 Vol.4 Review/ Overview by Comic Swag

Video: RTFC #06 - Buffy The Vampire Slayer 7 (2007) DEEP DIVE [Features an exclusive interview with Georges Jeanty!] by Read the Freaking Comics!

Video: S4E09: Something Blue by One Girl in All the World

Podcast: Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Sarah Michelle Gellar, High school drama, and slaying by TV Pilot's License

Podcast: Episode 033 - Becoming (pt. 1) by Boys Watching Buffy (several other episodes were uploaded as well)

[Rec Search]

Does anyone have any good femslash BtVS fic recs? by acaseofthewiggins

[Fandom Discussions]

Spike sleeping on a stone slab in his coat, boots, and lil blankie by Aphony Cree

For people who think Xander deserves some sort of punishment for him going after Buffy in the Pack by confusedguytoo

The thing about vampires is they are immortal so of course they will outlive all their mortal friends by stellernorth

Does anyone else find it so weird how Dawn is treated like a little kid when she is 15, 16 years old? by suiriswhite

I can’t BELIEVE I never noticed that Spike only started calling Buffy “Buffy” to her face AFTER he realized he was in love with her by thequeenofsastiel

I was counting the names Spike called Buffy and the amount of times he used them in s6 because I was curious, and I noticed something interesting by thequeenofsastiel

The cars Angel keeps giving Spike by thequeenofsastiel

Angel is such a weird show to watch by jimbodyson

after buffy season 3, contrary to popular belief, angel becomes more morally grey and fucked up by after buffy season 3, contrary to popular belief, angel becomes more morally grey and fucked up

Basically i want the way Buffy is sweet to Spike in season 7 to transfer to season 4 starved and tortured Spike by skyegraves21

Scoobtober: Best Weapon in the Buffyverse? by Plasma

The impact of loss and trauma on Angel's outlook continued by Lostsoul666 and Stoney

Double Entendres by Technical_Juice_6959

The Shanshu prophecy by moses616

Best Acting Performance in Angel by Troyaferd

How was the dagger of the beast made? by Nikstar112

Do they ruin willow’s arc? by Ijustliketodraww

Angel Season 5 Poster by authenticriver

I love Anya by ClutchPencilQuadRule

Did Giles just become sexier post-Season 3? by Personal_Reward_60

Was there a moment in the show where you thought to yourself ‘I did not expect this?’ by DarkCryptt

If you had the money or the power by Vixen22213

Rewatching Hells Bells… by erulisseh

Help with this Angel art by midwest_manic

Missed opportunities by CoasterTrax

Prom by moses616

Someone finally does what we were all thinking 😆 (S3 E1) by ghostrider1938

Real time Buffy/Spike Reactions by Adventurous_Grand878

What are some interesting motifs, references, or metaphors you've found in the show that not a lot of fans catch? by Deep_Ad_2691

Buffy is BRUTAL with killing people off it makes it more realistic in a sense by hatchbackkk

this was PAINFUL [Buffy cutting her hair in Gone] by hatchbackkk

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series #ats

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justinspoliticalcorner · 6 months ago

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Hunter Walker at TPM:

A dispute raging inside the “Stew Peters Network” ended up in a federal court in Florida last month. The ongoing case has exposed drama between a group of far right media personalities, complete with alleged text messages and emails that show the inner workings of a company that has peddled conspiracy theories, anti-gay hate speech, racism, and antisemitism, while still maintaining connections with more mainstream Republicans. In many ways, the trouble began — as so many things have in the modern far right — with the coronavirus pandemic.

The company’s namesake, Stew Peters, is an internet personality whose eponymous show and associated social media posts have, in just the past two days alone, suggested immigrants are “retarded cannibals,” declared “Jewish Zionist infiltration in our government” is “our enemy,” and attacked “queer perverts” who he said needed to be “brought to heel” for creating “Weimar conditions” that “must be met with Weimar solutions.” Peters, who has amassed six figure followings on the social networks Gab and Telegram along with an audience of over eighty thousand on former President Trump’s “Truth Social” platform, has shared his stage with neo-Nazi leader Nick Fuentes. Yet Peters’ evident extremism, which has included airing blatantly antisemitic cartoon caricatures in the introduction to his broadcasts, has also not stopped him from drawing established Republicans as guests on his show, including Trump’s former White House chief of staff, Mark Meadows, Rep. Paul Gosar (R-AZ), who has been credited with appearances in six episodes, and multiple current GOP congressional candidates.

While a blend of right wing politics and hate speech is a core part of Peters’ brand, COVID conspiracy theories are what provided him some of his strongest social media momentum. Specifically, Peters gained prominence with the 2022 documentary “Died Suddenly,” which focused on what the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation described as “the evidence-free claim that COVID vaccines are causing sudden deaths in people around the world.” Peters was among the producers of the approximately hour long movie. It mixed jump cuts and archival footage — including images of 9/11, the moon landing, and bigfoot — along with interviews and easily contradicted claims to argue the vaccines are part of a population control plot engineered by the “global elite.” “Died Suddenly” concludes with onscreen text urging viewers to “let us never forget what they have done.” “If you are quiet, or apathetic, or complacent you have to stand before God and you have to answer for that,” Peters warned the audience.

[...]

The lawsuit was first reported on last month by Angry White Men, a site dedicated to “tracking white supremacy.” However, the internal correspondence from Peters’ company and other case documents are being reported here at TPM for the first time. Along with feuds and alleged malfeasance in Peters’ inner circle, the documents — including some which were unsealed due to TPM reporting — shed light on the financial model that fringe far right broadcasters use to build their business. The suit paints a picture of an extremist media empire driven by clicks, commercials from a company selling gold bars to people paranoid about the “next crisis,” and audience donations. It also reveals how heavily Peters relied on outsiders to create much of the content that aired under his brand name.

[...] Starting in 2014, Peters went on to work as a bounty hunter in Minnesota where he experienced some initial social media success posting videos of apprehensions and taped rants. However, this venture was not without its own issues. By 2020, Peters began posting a political radio show on the Facebook page where he shared bounty hunting exploits. The following year, according to the Daily Beast, Peters was arrested after a scene at his home. The incident reportedly led Peters to express fears about the future of his law enforcement-adjacent career, and his bounty hunting videos ultimately tapered off. As Peters increasingly focused on political content, it was the “Died Suddenly” documentary that helped Peters, as Mother Jones put it, “hit his stride.”

“Died Suddenly” was produced by Peters, filmmakers Matt Skow and Nicholas Stumphauzer, who directed the movie, Edward Szall, and Lauren Witzke. It was presented by the “Stew Peters Network,” which is essentially a subscription-based website and series of social media pages that host Peters’ show and affiliated broadcasts. Szall and Witzke are partners in the production company TLM Global, which is short for “Truth & Light Media.” Like Peters, Szall and Witzke, who was previously an executive producer for Peters’ network, have their own connections to both GOP politics and the more extreme far right. Witzke, who could not be reached for comment on this story, was the GOP nominee for U.S. Senate in Delaware in 2020. After winning the Republican primary in that race, Witzke cheerfully accepted tweeted congratulations from Fuentes, the prominent neo Nazi activist and broadcaster. Before losing in the general election, Witzke conducted an interview with the website VDare, which has consistently hosted white nationalist and antisemitic content. In that conversation, Witzke indicated she was more concerned about immigration than being branded a racist.

“Died Suddenly” wasn’t the only product of the partnership between Peters, Witzke, and Szall that, according to court documents, began in October 2021. Since then, the pair also worked with Peters on the documentary “These Little Ones,” which focused on a narrative about “elite pedophilia” with echoes of the pro-Trump QAnon conspiracy theory. They also produced two movies under the “Watch The Water” banner that were credited with originating a conspiracy theory that COVID was caused by snake venom in drinking water. Two other videos made through the partnership suggest world leaders and scientists are involved in a Satanic plot and that Americans are being enslaved by taxes, narratives that are more extreme versions of the concerns about globalists and elites that hint at antisemitic tropes and have increasingly become part of the Republican playbook. Along with producing these documentaries, Witzke and Szall also hosted their own biweekly broadcast, “Crosstalk News” on Peters’ network.

The Fokiss v. TLM Global lawsuit exposes the inner workings and internal fights within far-right extremist Stew Peters’s media empire.

See Also:

Angry White Men: Stew Peters Files Lawsuit Over Rights To Anti-Vaccine Propaganda Film

#Stew Peters #The Stew Peters Network #The Stew Peters Show #Lauren Witzke #Died Suddenly #Anti Vaxxer Extremism #Conspiracy Theories #Paul Gosar #Mark Meadows #Anti LGBTQ+ Extremism #Antisemitism #Edward Szall #Cross Talk News #Fokiss v. TLM Global #TLM Global

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looney-mooney · 7 months ago

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Hey,

ever thought about making a fanfic about your Sam & Max Miraculous au on archive of our own aka AO3? I say it would be amazing fanfic material.

I mean I’ve done my fair share of AO3 posting, but my problem with fanfics is that unless it’s a one shot, or something that I don’t really care about the plot of in the first place, I never FINISH them LOL. I don’t even know where I’d START for a genuine AO3 Miraculous Sam & Max fic tbh. I mean, I tried a few times, it just never flows right, you know? I like art because I can communicate a LOT with just one facial expression, just one image, in a way that I struggle to convey with just writing alone. I’m a very visual, tactile person.

It doesn’t help that I’ve got no real end game in mind for this au yet, just a jumbled-up collection of loosely connected ideas. I know who everyone is, I know how the character dynamics would be different from canon, and I have a vague sense for how each person enters the story, but I don’t know what the ARCS are. I don’t know what the CORE of the story is, what the THEMES would be, what the CONCLUSION is.

If you want to try your hand at writing a fic using my art as inspiration though, I say go for it!!! But if you’re waiting for me to do it, well. It’d probably have to sit stewing in my head for another couple years before I really feel ready to do that lol

#sam and max #miraculous ladybug #Sam and max freelance heroes #miraculous au #looney mooney rants

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reasoningdaily · 9 months ago

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Jessica B. Harris's Guide to Black Culinary History | Bon Appétit

Jessica B. Harris, Dawn Davis

Bahia, Brooklyn, New Orleans, Martha’s Vineyard, and Paris are the places she’s called home. Erudite, wickedly funny, and droll describe her personality. Who are we talking about?

None other than the culinary historian Jessica B. Harris, Ph.D.—founding member of the Southern Foodways Alliance, a member of Les Dames d’Escoffier, a professional society championing women in culinary fields, an award-winning journalist, podcaster, and author of over a dozen deeply researched books and too many articles to count. (If you’re looking for something that goes down like butter, check out her memoir, My Soul Looks Back, filled with tales about her adventures in New York’s Greenwich Village with friends James Baldwin and Maya Angelou.)

As the foremost expert on the foodways of the African diaspora, there’s no better (or wittier) guide to Black culinary traditions. Here, she shares with us a few of the dishes, books, and ingredients she finds essential to unpacking this long, rich, and ever-evolving history. —Dawn Davis, editor in chief

Photo by Suzi Pratt

Try the Homestyle Favorites

Chef Edouardo Jordan’s JuneBaby restaurant in Seattle is an edible praise song to the genius of African American cooks. The menu offers classic dishes like fried chicken and greens along with specials—like chitlins and Momma Jordan’s oxtails—not usually tasted outside of home kitchens.

Tour the Archives

Toni Tipton-Martin’s The Jemima Code reclaims and celebrates the heritage of Black America’s controversial “aunt” by documenting 200 years of African American cookbooks from her personal collection. Familiar figures such as Edna Lewis show up alongside unexpected personalities such as activist Bobby Seale and singer Mahalia Jackson in this must-own compendium.

Photo by Emma Fishman

Eat Like an Icon

The late New Orleans chef Leah Chase served Gumbo z’Herbes once a year on Holy Thursday. The dense green meaty gumbo is essential to the rich culinary history of the area’s Creoles de couleur. It’s still served annually at Dooky Chase’s, her iconic family restaurant.

Photo Courtesy Cuisine Noir/Ilaria Sponda

Required Reading

Two invaluable resources for those who want to deepen their knowledge: Black Culinary History and Cuisine Noir. Both websites preserve and promote the past and present contributions of chefs of color throughout the African diaspora.

For The Bucket List

The food of São Salvador da Bahia de Todos os Santos in northeastern Brazil is a linchpin between the food of western Africa and that of the Western Hemisphere. To taste a fish stew called a moqueca or nibble on an acarajé, a street food bean fritter, is to understand the connections.

Photo by Mike Lorrig

More Okra, Please

Okra, which originated on the African continent, is a love/hate vegetable. Its detractors hate the “slime” and the lovers delight in the way it thickens a soup or stew and its crunch when blanched. Get recipes, history, and gardening tips, in The Whole Okra by Chris Smith.

Photo from Vintage Postcards From the African World: In the Dignity of Their Work and the Joy of Their Play by Jessica B Harris,, University Press of Mississippi

Share Knowledge

You can find incredible images of African Americans and food on vintage postcards in my latest book, Vintage Postcards from the African World. They not only present the faces of ancestors but also tell amazing, often harrowing, stories of survival and triumph over adversity.

#Jessica B. Harris's Guide to Black Culinary History #Black Culinarians #Black Cooking #Black Foodies #soul food

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missgowgow · 1 year ago

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as someone currently in their last year of a bachelor’s program for an ai-related field, I am absolutely 100% on board with being anti ai. the ways it’s being implemented rn are reckless, unethical, and show the disregard the tech sector has for everyone else. hell, I’ve become an anti-ai evangelist to my less skeptical friends. BUT, I hate that the needed anti-ai backlash is obscuring the real use cases of ai.

ai, such as it’s used in my fields of specialty, is essentially advanced pattern recognition. there’s lots of use for that! one of my friends worked on a project to automatically identify and sort electron microscope images of metal crystals! that’s hours of squinting at blurry black and white pictures that don’t have to be done! another worked on a project to look through a database of mixed file types (.jpg, .pdf, .csv, etc.) and pull all information related to the search query. the program had to identify features in the file and then compare it to the query. that’s super helpful for anything from archival material to research storage! we’re currently trialing some ai approaches to obstacle monitoring in cars, like improved blind spot detectors, and that could save lives!

if we just use and understand ai for what it is, we could do so much great stuff, but instead we’re trying to outsource art to a program that functionally can only chop up better things and smush them together. for someone in the field like me, it’s like watching someone cook a lovely stew after hours of labour, and then using it to give a random person third-degree burns instead of eating it.

#ai discourse #ai discussion

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putschki1969 · 3 years ago

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Wakana Winter Shark Festival ~ Live Commentary

‖Event details Botanical Land members-ONLY streaming event Title: “Wakana Winter Shark Festival ～ Special Cross Talk Event ～ ” Date: December 4, 2021 Time: 17:00~ (JST) Cast: Wakana, Yuuka Nanri (guest) Tweet 1 | Tweet 2 | Instagram post

‖Ticket details Ticket sales: Bitfan tickets Livestream: Bitfan Live Sales period: November 19 18:00 to December 12 20:00 ● Event viewing ticket ¥ 2,000 (tax included) ※ This ticket is for FC members ONLY. ❗ Join her FAN CLUB NOW! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗ In order to buy a ticket, please refer to the tutorial provided by Botanical Land! I have also written my own tutorial for her previous FC event so feel free to check that out! Bitfan is a very foreigner-friendly platform so be sure to use this opportunity!

Don’t forget to tune in if you purchased a ticket. I wonder if they will pick my question. Hopefully they will introduce the live goods for Wakana’s birthday live, I need to see what those long-sleeved shirts look like. As always, I will try to provide some sort of live reaction.

There is some background music that could possibly be a new song but probably not? It’s upbeat so who knows. And OMG, we got a slideshow of baby!Wakana pics, and some gorgeous shots from her entire career (especially her FJ time) !!!! So freaking adorable!!! I am dead!!! DECEASED!!

Wakana introduces Yuuka in case anyone is not familiar with her. She says it’s like they are at a wedding ceremony or match-making. Together they sing Wakana’s infamous OP theme, the Shark-Song ^_^

First Corner: Impressions of Wakana/Yuuka They asked their musicians about their first and current impression of Wakana and Yuuka. They read out the answers to each other. Yuuka starts reading out what everyone had written about Wakana. It’s so funny how everyone says Wakana is cheerful, dorky and talkative while Yuuka is super calm and reserved, the perfect image of a Japanese woman XD

Q&A Corner: They are going super fast through the questions, sort of like a rapid fire Q&A. Will properly summarise everything later when the archived video is available. Ah, I see, now that it’s done they discuss their answers in a relaxed manner. #1: Do you have a relaxed personality or are you hotheaded? W: Hotheaded #2: If the other were an animal, which one would it be? W: She sees Yuuka as bunny. Yuuka sees Wakana a medium-sized doggie because they are always lively and cute. #3: What do you like to eat in winter? W: Nabe; Yuuka says stew and Wakana can’t help but agree that this is also a great choice. #4:If you could travel to Kyushu together, where would you go? W: They wanna go to Fukuoka and Nagasaki together because that’s where they are from #5: Favourite Christmas song (btw, that was my question)? W: I think she said “あわてんぼうのサンタクロース”. Never heard of it XD #6: If you could play an instrument professionally, which one would it be? W: Piano #7: Favourite and least favourite household chore? W: She loves cooking and doing laundry. She hates picking up all the hair she loses throughout the day #8: Things you absolutely have to do on Christmas? W: Eat chicken and cake #9: This year’s kanji? W: 満 (MAN) - full, satisfied #10: What do you want to do next year? W: A LOT

Game Corner 1: Proposal Challenge They are playing a Japanese card game where you play with words. You need to come up with the perfect “Proposal” by combining word cards. They have so much fun that they decide to go a second round XD They were in tears by the end of it because they were laughing so much. Wakana came up with some very weird proposals :P

Game Corner 2: Drawing Game They get words which they need to draw and the other has to guess what the word is :P

Goods Introduction Corner The long-sleeved shirts with the embroidery are so cute. I don’t know which colour to buy, both are adorable! I might have to buy both. Ohhhh, the stolas/scarfs are huge, did not expect that. Definitely getting the pamphlet/stola set with the red one. Oh boy, that plate really IS VERY yellow, thought the image was a bit misleading. Might be the only item I am not getting XD

Giveaway: Polaroids They gave away two cute polaroids, unfortunately I didn’t win one T_T

#kalafina #wakana #report #summary #winter shark festival #botanical land #yuuka nanri

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

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The Cowboy - Part 4

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) --- there’s a bit of angst in this part

Word count: 2078

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“That was delicious, thank you!”

“I hope you have room in your stomach for apple crumble,” Mr Jung said, leaning across the table towards you. “June is a mighty fine cook but an even greater baker.”

“The reason he married me, so he says.”

You smiled warmly, enjoying the banter between the pair. Their love for one another was evident. You hadn’t seen such a genuine display of affection in years. The city had jaded your parents and kept them looking for the next big project instead of cosy nights curled up together.

They’re professionals, you reminded yourself when you felt a sense of sadness for your parents. They don’t have time like they do out here.

“Were the heifers put into the bottom field?”

You had almost forgotten Jaehyun was sitting at your side until he cleared his throat then, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, I moved them this morning.”

“By yourself?”

“You had Caleb up in the high fields with you and Avery was otherwise preoccupied with someone,” he continued, and you felt eyes boring into the side of your head on the latter half of the conversation.

You smiled brightly. “It must take a lot of people to run such a big ranch like yours, Mr Jung.”

“We make do with the help we have.”

“We could do with three more men,” Jaehyun muttered, and you looked at him, pausing in saying anything in response when you noticed the dark look within the elder’s eyes.

Blayne was under-populated. You already knew this from the basic land per capita estimates online and in the business proposal for Blayne’s development. If more jobs were created here, then the farms that were struggling would be able to hire more help.

But Blayne also lacked housing. It would need to supply appropriate accommodation for new workers. You stewed over the thought of how many changes would be needed to not only make Blayne easily accessible but also improve the existing community until a dessert plate was placed in front of you.

Blinking out of your reverie, you beamed up at June. “I cannot wait to try it!”

After dinner, you thanked both your hosts generously. “I’ve not had a home-cooked meal quite as tasty as that before.”

“Your mother?” June enquired.

“She’s a professor at the School of Commerce.”

“Ah, she would have been too busy to make meals a priority.”

“It’s okay! I admire her for her work ethic. She’s taught me a lot. Both my parents have always been busy, but that’s how it is in the city.”

“Busy people don’t often see the bigger picture. I can tell by how eager you were to take up the position out here,” Mr Jung mentioned gruffly and you nodded despite his expression. “A woman of marrying age coming up here all alone is usually unheard of.”

“Perhaps Blayne will leave an impression on Y/N, honey.” June offered, patting her husband’s lower arm fondly. She then smiled at you. “You seem quite confident.”

“I’m hopeful I can make a positive change here,” you stated, your own smile fading when you heard a scoff, and then feet moving across the gravel behind you. Darting your focus to the disappearing man that had been waiting nearby, you looked back at his parents. “Thank you again!”

“We’ll have you over anytime, sugar!”

Turning on your heel, you took the pathway that Jaehyun had just departed down, finding him strapping up the horse that had brought you here earlier in the evening. You stopped near his side, frowning at his efforts. “Should you be asking the horse to work again?”

Jaehyun looked in your direction before returning his gaze back to his efforts, not answering your question.

“Your mother said it was too dark to ride last night. Shouldn’t we take the truck since the moon is now up in the sky?” you prompted, shifting your eyes to the heavens. You gasped in awe. “Wow, I’ve never seen such a clear night sky before!”

“Pollution inhibits that,” Jaehyun explained curtly, yanking on a strap and tightening it into place.

“It’s so beautiful out here, though. It’s a shame not many people have experienced it outside of a postcard.”

“Why don’t you save the speech for someone who is interested?”

“Excuse me?” Staring back at the man beside you, you tilted your head to the side. “You’re awfully moody tonight, Mr Cowboy.”

“Back to that name, huh?”

“Well, since you’re feeling a little cold towards me, I don’t know if it’s my place to call you by your first name,” you explained. Jaehyun didn’t respond again, and you sighed. “What did I do wrong?”

“Are you always this self-centred? Can’t you see the bigger picture than the goal inside your head?” Jaehyun questioned, sliding his hands onto his hips and finally facing you. He looked you over again, much as he had earlier when he first saw you as he jumped down from the wagon. Instead of the kindness you had experienced then, it was laced with scrutiny this time. You lowered your gaze to your outfit and stepped back.

“Hey…” you started, and then squared your jaw.

Just who was this guy to act so blunt with you? You should have stuck with believing he was the rude and full of assumptions jerk just as you had thought of him earlier in the day. Perhaps it was the fresh air and gentleness of the wagon ride that had softened your heart to him somehow. You should have known better to trust in your instincts.

Turning on your heel, you started walking down the drive towards the field you had travelled across from your place to the main homestead on this land. You didn’t get far before a hand reached out and yanked on your forearm roughly. “What are you doing?!”

“Going home!”

“Oh, is that so? Through a darkened field? See, this is why you belong in the city, Y/N. You have no idea about the dangers of a working farm. You’re used to living in tiny apartments and navigating mazes of streets and buildings and-”

“I didn’t come here to have you tell me what you think about me, Jaehyun.”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. But you did come out here all alone with zero understanding of how the country works. You’re here to change how we are? What a joke. You have no concept of what Blayne is about. You’ve not even stopped to take the time to listen to those around you. Instead, you’re dreaming up something big that none of us wants. Can’t you tell that? We might be showing you some country hospitality right now, but don’t go thinking people want you here.”

“That’s incredibly evident, don’t you worry,” you bit back, shaking his grip off your arm.

Jaehyun ran an agitated hand through his hair before looking at you again. “I’ll take you home. Come on.”

“I’m good with directions. I’ll take myself back.”

“What you see during the day changes at night around here. Hate me all you like, but I’ll take you home so I don’t have to worry about you falling in an open drain pipe.”

You opened your mouth to refute the offer, but the image he had painted was enough for you to silently march back over to the wagon. Jaehyun checked everything over again and jumped up into the seat, his hand reaching down to help you up.

Stubbornly, you ignored it and heaved yourself into the seat.

The ride back home was silent, and you preferred it that way. After the outburst in the field, you had little to say to the man. You were grateful he seemed compliant of such silence and didn’t offer any conversation from his behalf either. All the same, you were somewhat holding out for an apology.

You gained none, however.

Leaping down from the wagon, you merely tipped your head as Jaehyun did in farewell and then headed inside without a single word. You watched as the wagon disappeared thereafter, and finally, let out a string of incoherent cursing and annoyance.

You blew a strand of hair away from your face and glowered out the window. “God, I hate him.”

When the morning rose, you got up with a new plan in place. The night before, you had spent the first part of it packing your belongings and then unpacking several times over. You were done with Blayne. If the people didn’t want you here, then you would take heed of their warning and leave.

However, you had been too confident when your boss assigned you with this project.

“They will resist change, you know.”

You nodded. “Of course, but I’m equipped to handle it.”

“Are you?”

“You wouldn’t have pitched the proposal to me if you didn’t think I was the best to acquire the deal, Pierce.”

That, along with the fact that everyone seemingly had bets on when you’d depart played into your new resolve. You would show them just how capable you truly were.

First, however, you needed more information. “Is there a local library or archives here, May?”

“Library?”

You nodded. “Or a town hall? Surely the public can access the information there?”

“Our town hall was burned down ten years ago,” another person at the diner counter mentioned, despite May’s obvious hand swatting him off. He smiled at you. “You’ll have to go to the town over for anything like that.”

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help. Thanks for the coffee, May!”

Once in your car again, you headed back down the country highway and took the forty-five minute drive to the closet township. You cried with comforting relief when you heard the usual bleeps of your phone notification ring in succession.

“Ah, I’m back in a place of proper civilisation!”

Although this township had most amenities, you still were surprised by how small the town hall was. Having no luck there, you went next door to the equally quaint library and piled up all the documents and texts you could find on Blayne.

With a pen in hand ready to take down notes, you picked up the first journal and began to read.

You weren’t aware of how long you spent perusing the history of the area or familiarising yourself with the generations of family lines that were born and bred in Blayne. Stopping on an interesting line in the Jung family, you let out a low whistle. “June and May aren’t originally from Blayne?”

“Perhaps Blayne will leave an impression on Y/N, honey.”

June’s comment from last night pulled a smile onto your lips. At least there seemed to be one person rooting for your stay in Blayne.

It was then when you saw how late into the afternoon it was and you collected up your belongings, asking a clerk if you could take a couple of the history logs with you. After registering with the library and checking them out, you stepped into the warm air, smiling triumphantly at your discovery.

You then pulled out your phone, browsing through the messages you had received. Natalia had contacted you the most, and you pressed call instead of replying, waiting for the call to connect.

“You didn’t let me know if you got there safely!”

“I couldn’t really, the signal out in that place is something else,” you admitted with a grin as you headed to your car. You climbed inside it and then sighed. “I miss you, Natty.”

“Not enough to assure me that you’re alive!”

“Come on, it’s only been a few days, and I’m talking to you now. Isn’t that enough?” you humoured, watching a family cross the intersection up ahead. The little girl skipping across the road seemed so carefree compared to what you had been at that age.

You wondered if the city environment had made you cynical or if that was just who you naturally were.

Natalia cleared her throat and gained your attention again. “Yeah, yeah. So, any hot cowboys out there?”

The image of Jaehyun immediately appeared in your mind, and it ruined your mood entirely. “No. Not a single one.”

“Aw man, here I had you pegged for having a hot summer romance with some farm boy out there.”

“I’m here to work, Natty,” you reminded, both for hers and your sakes. “Even if there was someone handsome, he’s not going to do anything for me.”

_________________

Part 5

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rollingforstew · 3 months ago

Text

Bill Clark (please pretend he's holding a Hurdy Gurdy instead of a Lute as Heroforge does not have a Hurdy Gurdy)

A Human Bard NPC I created when running for my siblings and their friends.

He had a midlife crisis after his kids moved out, spent all his savings on a cool outfit and a hurdy gurdy, and then his wife divorced him.

Fun Fact: was labeled “caucasian-core” after telling a PC “I like the cut of your jib”. He says white dad phrases like that a lot.

Cooking: His wife was the one who did that (he’s so sorry he spent all their money. please, Alison).

Gender and Sexuality: he doesn't “get” it but whatever makes you happy champ.

Music: dad music. Would be the biggest Beatles fan.

Reading: would love books about WWII if they existed where he is.

I haven't run D&D for my siblings in forever but they still bring Bill up all the time so I think I succeeded in making a memorable NPC :)

#stew's personal image archive

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hacash · 4 years ago

Text

Too Much Information

"I always imagined Big Folk’d be rather prudish about sex,” Pippin said. “After all, I imagined none of you do it very often, taking into account your obvious shortcomings.”

The Fellowship share. Rather too much. In which Gandalf is cagey, Merry and Pippin are shameless, and Boromir finds out more about the Fellowship's personal lives than he wanted to know.

[also available on Archive of our Own]

(based on this post; probably not to be taken too seriously)

“Posey Greenfields does not count.”

“Does so.”

“Does not.”

“How, may I ask, does she not count?”

“I saw you at that party, Pip, and you were soused off your face. Utterly crocked. I should say she took advantage of you, more than anything.”

“Took advantage? I was giving her the advantage, and very willingly too!”

Boromir eyed the bickering cousins with more trepidation than he might an orc’s nest. Trust me, Elrond had advised the day he’d arrived in Imlradris, you might hear them talking and think you wish to know the conversation. In these moments it is best to turn around and walk the other way.

Delicately he coughed, meeting Legolas’ eye. “Do I want to know?”

The elf grimaced. Owing to his renowned elvish hearing it seemed he had caught every word: but going by Legolas’ disturbed expression Boromir suspected this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “No. No you don’t.”

Recklessly Boromir plunged on, approaching where Merry and Pippin were setting up their bedding for the night. “Gentlemen?”

Two twin beady gazes turned on him.

“Context, please?”

Ignoring Legolas’ muffled groan and face-palm Merry turned about cheerfully, eager for a new participant – or, as Boromir was beginning to suspect, victim. “Ah, yes! You see, to kill time Pippin and I were discussing some of our more pleasant encounters back home when life was simpler and remembering some of our most enjoyable companions – ”

“Sex stories,” Boromir repeated with dawning understanding, unable to keep the horror from his voice. “You were swapping sex stories.”

“Exactly! Only Pippin insisted on counting one time with Posey Greenfields when he’d gotten into his father’s best sherry – Michel Delving’s finest, it’ll turn you cross-eyed – and I was telling him that didn’t count because he was in no fit state to make a decent showing.”

Pippin was looking so proud of himself, it was almost indecent.

“But…I thought you were a child?” Boromir demanded.

“Excuse me? I’m a tweenager.”

“You’re a deviant is what you are, Pippin,” Merry said.

“I’m an unfettered adventurous soul, lacking in fear.”

“Lacking something is certainly the way Mrs Goodchild described you when she caught you and her Iris at it in the barn that time. Your breeches, for a start.”

“You’re not of age, is what I meant,” Boromir interrupted, before his brain started producing images his stomach couldn’t handle.

“Hobbits often start courting far before they’re of age, sir.” Taking pity on the unfortunate Man, Sam approached with cups of stewed nettle tea. “It’s common enough to start when you’re about sixteen, seventeen years old. Of course, it’s less common to wed before we’re of age – ”

“Thirty-three!” Boromir exclaimed proudly.

“Yes, sir, very well done,” Sam said in a soothing tone. “Which gives any courting couple a nice long while to get to know one another proper. Of course, there’s those as might not wish to wait that long – ” Merry did the universal sign for a swollen belly behind Sam’s back, “but to have your son or daughter wed afore they’ve passed twenty five – well, it’s considered a bit tacky, if you get my drift? Not allowing them a proper chance at life afore they settle down.”

“And by ‘proper chance of life’ we mean…”

“Studying a trade, spending time with friends, practicing how to keep house – ”

“Or in Merry’s case: learning how to do it in a rowboat without capsizing,” Pippin interjected.

“Ah, discussing Salvia Chubb, I believe? As I recall you told your mother you’d caught a fish so large it had pulled you clean from the boat, and that was why you were soaked through and Salvia’s shimmy all tangled up in duckweed.”

Boromir nearly inhaled a mouthful of his wine at Frodo’s sudden appearance. He might have imagined that the last thing the two younger hobbits would want when discussing their depravity was the audience of their elder cousin, but Frodo just regarded the conversation with exasperated amusement.

“You shouldn’t listen to these two, Boromir,” the Ringbearer advised. “They’ll blister your ears off and then some with their sordid tales. My uncle Saradoc would have been at his wits’ end with Merry, save that half his tricks Merry likely learned from him.”

“Hey now!” cried Merry. “I won’t have such slander repeated before friends. There was a time when Frodo Baggins was considered quite the rascal of Buckland, Boromir, and don’t you forget it. If I have ever engaged in pranks, scandal, inebriation or debauchery, chances are I learned it from him!”

“Debauchery!”

“Downright,” Merry repeated, “debauchery.”

Frodo drew himself up to his full height and glared at his unrepentant cousin through narrowed eyes. “I admit to overindulging on Uncle Sara’s port or filching a basket of mushrooms on occasion, Meriadoc, but I object to the implication that I have ever debauched in my life.”

Sam and Pippin’s gazes flickered back and forth between the other two as if watching a game of chequers; Boromir’s cooling nettle tea was abandoned at his feet. Even Legolas was listening intently. Merry merely snorted, leaning back on his haunches as if to prepare for the master stroke. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Cousin, you remember when you left for Bag End I got your old room?”

“I do,” Frodo said stiffly, “and I fail to see the relevance.”

“Well, what you may not recall is you left plenty of odds and ends behind – mathoms mostly, old clothing and books and whathaveyou, and I found some rather interesting articles under your bed from your last years in Buckland. Some rather interesting journals, as it turns out.”

Seated beside Frodo, Legolas was lucky enough to get a good look at the Ringbearer’s face as the significance of this news dawned upon him. It was quite a spectacle, he had to admit. He’d never actually seen someone turn white before.

“You didn’t.”

Merry smirked. “It ended up proving quite an education when I was a tween, I must say.”

“…journals?” Boromir asked weakly.

“I forgot to mention: Melilot Brandybuck asked me to pass on her fondest and immense well wishes,” Merry continued wickedly, “for a couple of descriptive passages found in a particular entry – Wedmath, 1388, I believe? She was most appreciative, and I told her that the credit truly lay with you.”

Frodo’s face had bypassed white and was rapidly approaching green. “You didn’t.”

“Journals?” Pippin demanded. “What journals? Why haven’t I heard of any journals? You were courting Melilot at least ten years ago, why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Brandybuck?” Boromir asked. “But I thought Merry was – ”

“Third cousins,” Sam said wearily. “And if you let yourself get distracted by such matters, sir, you’ll never catch up.”

“And what descriptive passages could have Melilot Brandybuck still expressing her gratitude after ten years?”

“Oh, and Rory Goldworthy. Though I had to adapt some of the passages for Rory.”

“So what you’re saying is, half of Buckland knows Master Merry’s more – uh – adventurous activities can be put down to my master’s influence?” Sam said with a growing grin.

“And when were you planning on showing me these journals?”

“Meriadoc,” Frodo said slowly, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you.”

“You should all know, our cousin Frodo is a most meticulous and,” Merry smirked, “inventive writer in all respects. I only hope he provides the additions to Bilbo’s book with the same attention to detail!”

Frodo’s reaction was not a happy one. With an uncharacteristically warlike yell he hurled himself at his cousin, fists flying. Although Merry was by far the sturdier of the two, Frodo’s height and indignation found the two evenly matched, and the pair were soon scuffling haplessly in Merry’s bedding. Sam rolled his eyes, and Pippin cheered.

“Well then, lads.” Gimli’s voice was gruff as he approached. He had been discussing their route south along the Misty Mountains with Gandalf and Aragorn, and now the three of them eyed the ensuing chaos with amusement. “What are we discussing?”

“Sex,” Pippin piped up cheerfully.

Legolas was pinching the bridge of his nose: the mumbled comments of ‘raspberry jam and the garden swing’ made Sam fairly certain he had picked up most of Merry and Pippin’s early conversation, and also fairly certain that he didn’t want to know more. Gimli gave a low chuckle, Aragorn raised an eyebrow, and Gandalf shook his head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘smut-minded hole-dwellers’.

“You started this?” Gimli asked Boromir.

“I asked for context.”

“Well, it’s your own damn fault then.”

“I’m fully aware of that,” Boromir said. “I may never be able to look Merry and Pippin in the eye ever again.”

“He’s embarrassed,” Sam supplied helpfully.

Boromir raised an eyebrow. He was not embarrassed by sex – he was forty years old, thank you very much, and a soldier to boot: quite accustomed to bawdy humour. He knew all the words to ‘The Istari and the Ninety-Nine Virgins’ and had laughed himself sick over every variation of the one about the widow’s lodging house on many occasions. But the thought of these hobbits, small as children, and the Ringbearer by all accounts…

“That’s rather rude,” Merry grumbled when he told them this. “You don’t see us saying ‘urgh, imagine those Men going at it when they’re so freakishly big and ancient looking’, do you?”

“Thank you very much,” Aragorn remarked dryly.

Legolas rolled his eyes. “After spending many days in the company of soldiers from Dale I rather thought all Men to be rather fixated on the subject.”

“Really? I always imagined Big Folk’d be rather prudish about sex,” Pippin said. “After all, I imagined none of you do it very often, taking into account your obvious shortcomings.”

There came from Aragorn the sounds of spluttering and rapid smoke inhalation; it appeared he’d lit his pipe at an inopportune moment. “I…I beg your pardon?!”

“Well, look at the size of you. I can imagine you might not be – well, no offence, but not wholly up to scratch.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Frodo steepled his fingers thoughtfully and fixed both Aragorn and Boromir with a calculating gaze that seemed to them a bit too intrigued to be decent. “Well, be fair Pippin. I can imagine size might be beneficial.”

“Maybe a bit.”

“A bit?” chorused the two Men. Gimli snorted.

“But, well, you’re all so big and clumsy,” Pippin, oblivious in the face of rapidly approaching death, continued blithely. “No dexterity. No lightness of touch. No imagination. And just like in everything else, if you think only size matters you’re not going to put too much thought into it, are you?”

Aragorn had gone a distinctly red shade. From across the fire Sam was could see Gandalf’s shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Is Aragorn alright?” Merry asked.

“Ignore him,” Gimli said, “he’s just reconsidering certain aspects of his romantic life for the past seventy years.”

“Bugger off.”

“Well, we’re not prudish,” Boromir said hastily – Gondor might have needed no king, but abandoning Aragorn to this particular line of questioning seemed like a step too far. “We just don’t feel the need to talk about it all the time.”

“We don’t all the time,” Pippin said. “Just in general conversation.”

“Do the women in your homeland not consider such conversation uncouth?” Legolas asked in bewilderment.

Sam snorted. “You want uncouth, sir, you should see young Myrtle Twofoot when she’s got into the summer punch. Three glasses and she’s inviting any lad in sight to untie her bloomer lacings with her teeth, and that’s a fact.”

“Good heavens,” said Boromir, looking rather pale.

“Oh, she always has the lad clean their teeth first, so as to keep everything hygienic sir. Very conscientious is young Myrtle.”

“So, unlike the rest of civilised society,” Legolas concluded, “hobbits would think nothing of taking their afternoon tea, or whatever you strange creatures call it, while listening to Merry regale them all with tales of – ”

“Being snowed in at Bag End with the Goodbody twins, a sturdy settee and the last of Mister Bilbo’s Old Winyards,” Sam supplied helpfully. “I remember your mother raising hell for that one when word got out, Mister Merry.”

Merry somehow managed to smirk and blush at the same time.

“Oh, honestly.” Aragorn looked particularly unsettled. “We don’t all need to hear about Merry’s…proclivities.”

“Well, you’re just a prude,” Merry sniffed.

“No, I’m just not interested in hearing about it.”

“Merry, leave him alone,” Frodo said. “I was in the room next to yours on that particular night, you may remember, and I took as little joy from hearing it then as Aragorn is now.”

Merry pulled a face.

“And to answer your question, Legolas: Merry is, as usual, grossly misrepresenting the Shire in his smut and yes you may well blush, Meriadoc – it’s hardly the sort of thing we discuss over tea and cakes on every occasion. However, I wouldn’t exactly call the subject taboo.”

“Hobbits,” Gandalf chuckled, “as in all respects, enjoy the comforts of life most openly. Why, I could tell tales of Bullroarer Took that might make your hair turn on end!”

“Any tips to pass on?” Pippin asked.

“None for your ears, young hobbit.”

“I’m surprised you’re so bashful, Aragorn,” Merry said. “I’d have thought you very experienced in that regard.”

“What? Why would I be?” Aragorn asked, genuinely baffled.

“Have you seen you?”

“I suppose I had offers – a few – ” Behind his back Legolas snorted and then hastily turned it into a cough, “but there was only ever Arwen.”

“So you’re only interested in girls,” Pippin said.

“No, I’m only interested in Arwen.”

“But what if a really beautiful woman offered – ”

“She did. Her name was Arwen.”

“I think it’s romantic,” said Sam.

“I think it’s idiotic,” Merry argued. “All of that,” he gestured to the ranger, who began blushing from the appraising stares coming from the rest of the Fellowship, “going to waste on just one lass. It’s not natural.”

“Meriadoc Brandybuck!” Frodo barked suddenly. “Apologise, young hobbit. You’re being very disrespectful of other folks’ habits. We can’t all manage to be such tramps as you.”

“Maybe we should change the subject,” Gandalf said dryly. “This has all been gone into quite enough.”

“Like Melilot Brandybuck, apparently,” Pippin remarked.

“Peregrin!”

“And,” Boromir continued, suicidally avoiding the glare being levelled at him by Gandalf, “lads going with lads: that is not uncommon, in your home?”

“Why not?” Pippin asked, genuinely surprised. “I wouldn’t have known how to so much as kiss if it weren’t for good old Folco Boffin.”

“What of Gondor, Boromir?” Legolas asked.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “It is not considered shameful. But neither is it wholly approved of, in the higher houses of Gondor, for one man to make a life pledge with another. The noble families consider their heritage to be of great worth, and to forgo the chance of heirs and carrying on the line simply for the sake of affection is not always smiled upon.”

“Giving up your chance of love with some nice lad just to carry on some family name?” Sam said sadly. “Well, that’s right sad, that is.”

“I suppose,” said Boromir. Having understood that he was expected to carry on the line of Stewards since he was a child, he had never thought about it until now. “Of course, in a family with many sons or male cousins, it is less of a scandal. And out in the country or in the garrisons, of course, no-one pays it much mind.”

“Much the same as in the North,” Aragorn, who had now recovered, added. “Though within the Rangers, of course, men with men is more common. Less women, you see.”

“Well, it’s common enough in the Shire,” Merry said carelessly. “Pippin had quite the crush on Aragorn when we first met him in Bree.”

“Hoy!”

“Seeing you and Arwen together must have been like hitting puberty all over again,” Merry said with a snort.

This time it was Pippin who launched himself at Merry; while Aragorn mutely examined himself with the very real concern that he was giving off some sort of wrong signal.

“Don’t worry, Aragorn,” Frodo said soothingly. “After you made us march ten miles in the pouring rain, I suspect Pippin’s ardour wore off some.”

Pippin resurfaced long enough to flash Aragorn a cheeky grin that did not particularly set his mind at ease. “Indeed. And unlike Merry, I don’t feel the need to be bossed around by any of my romantic partners – oof!”

“Well, there’s a revelation I did not particularly need to hear,” Gimli muttered as the two cousins began wrestling again.

“Goes all red whenever Estella Bolger shoots him a sharp word, he does – argh!”

“I still can’t believe how open hobbits are,” Boromir muttered.

“Some of us’ve got a bit more class than the young masters,” Sam said, “begging their pardons.”

“Some of us’re just too shy for their own good.” Pippin, panting, had resurfaced. “When we return to the Shire I’m going to lock you and the lovely Rosie into the cellars of Crickhollow and not let you out until the windows shatter.”

“Master Pippin!”

“Sam, please tell me you don’t go around debauching with all and sundry like the rest of these rakes,” Legolas said.

“Oh, Sam plays his cards close to the chest,” said Merry with an admiring smirk. “He might still be a virgin or might have serviced every lass in the greater Westfarthing area; we’d never know.”

“I have not serviced every lass in the Westfarthing, Mister Merry.”

“Every lad then.”

“Now why would I be doing that, Mr Merry? I don’t know every lad in the Westfarthing!”

“That’s something you take into consideration?”

“Yes!” Sam exclaimed. Merry just looked bemused.

“If Sam is more selective than you, Merry, that’s hardly something to mock,” Frodo said disapprovingly.

“Who said I was mocking? I admire you, Sam, but honestly you were too bloody blind by half to realise what it was like back home. Scores of tweenagers hanging around Bag End garden just waiting for the weather to warm so you’d so much as roll up your sleeves.”

While Pippin fell about laughing and the rest of the Fellowship chuckled, Sam turned a horrified shade of red. “That…that never happened!”

“Why do you think Frodo had so many cousins from Buckland and Tookborough come to stay? Not for his sparkling conversation, surely; there’s only so long you can feign an interest in elvish poetry.”

“Sam,” Frodo said patiently, “one summer we had half the Shire stopping in at Bag End asking you for gardening tips. Did you honestly think Milo Chubb was that interested in keeping the greenfly off his begonias?”

“You knew about this, sir?”

“Knew? I was considering selling tickets.”

Sam’s head fell into his hands.

“Your courtship rituals are certainly…unlike anything I have experienced,” Gimli chuckled drolly. “Whatever happened to a finely-wrought ring or a poem in honour of your loved one?”

“I’ve had good luck with a bottle of sherry and a broom cupboard,” Merry said.

“Typically affection is expressed in our culture with flowers, dancing, and fine manners,” Frodo smirked, “though Merry and Pippin have always seen fit to buck with tradition. Naughty limericks and drunk come-ons are not acceptable.”

“They’re not?” This was news to Merry.

“They were considered terrible flirts back home.”

“Ah yes,” Pippin reminisced dreamily, “I remember the day Diamond North-Took called me a depraved, unconscionable back-alley scoundrel without the morals of a tom-cat.”

“I know, because you do have the morals of a tom-cat.”

“And I told her that, but do you think she’d listen?”

“Folk are expected to calm down as they leave their tweens behind, but as long as no lass gets into trouble or no-one’s tumbling with someone thought to be courting someone else…” Frodo gave a nimble shrug, lips twitching with the fond memories of days long since past. The rest of the Fellowship almost felt like they were intruding. “I myself used to…but then, I don’t know, my interest rather waned over the years…”

“Lost your puff, more like,” Merry scoffed. Without looking up Frodo kicked him in the kneecaps.

“The desire faded,” he said firmly. “Lovely memories and a fine time in my life – but I don’t see anything lacking now it’s over, either.”

Boromir was fascinated. He’d never imagined that one could talk so frankly about desire – or, for that matter, shrug off the lack of it as nothing more than the disappearance of a well-loved but outgrown coat. “I never saw the appeal,” he remarked, “on any account. Good luck to you all if you so choose to take your pleasures in such a fashion, but – honestly, it seems quite the overblown fuss to me. I can think of half a dozen things I’d prefer doing to sex, just off the top of my head.”

“No tales of debauchery from you then?” Merry asked sadly.

“Unlike our esteemed Ringbearer,” Boromir bowed to the blushing Frodo, “I have never debauched. I’m not sure I’d know where to begin.”

The hobbits shrugged carelessly. “Oh, there’s plenty in our homeland who are much the same,” Pippin said. “Cousin Bilbo’s a hundred and twenty-nine if he’s a day, and I don’t think he’s thought on sex once in all that time.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Oh, come off it. I’d have heard if Bilbo had some lost lady-love in the Shire, mark my words.”

“I said nothing about romance. I just said your assumptions that Bilbo was never interested in sex are inaccurate,” Frodo said, a rather haunted look on his face.

“What, and he told you that, did he?”

“I didn’t need to be told, Peregrin; the arrangements he had with the Widow Moley rather spoke for themselves.”

For a moment there was a distinct choking sound. Sam was very carefully examining the ground beneath his feet while Merry had stuffed his fist into his mouth, shaking with barely contained glee. The rest of the Fellowship exchanged glances. Pippin’s mouth had slowly fallen open: as Frodo continued to look pointedly at him he began to feel much the same way as one might when one bites into an apple and sees half a grub wriggling merrily away at him.

“Bilbo had companionship in his golden years?” Aragorn said in a somewhat strained voice. “That’s…that’s nice.”

“Every Sunday after tea,” Frodo said with the hollow tones more suited to an old soldier recounting the horrors of battles long since past, “and every Trewsday before luncheon; round to Bag End she’d come, regular as clockwork for nearly ten years. Why do you think I asked your mother for earmuffs every Yule?”

“But,” Boromir said, “I thought you told me you were only adopted by Bilbo when he was in his eighties?”

“That I did.”

Pippin finally made a sound, and that sound was: “Eeuargh…..”

“Well now, here we see again the difference in the races. For an elf to be in such a steady relationship at a mere eighty years of age would be considered rash indeed,” Legolas snickered, with the air of one stirring the pot with gleeful abandon.

“Cousin Bilbo is not an elf.”

“Quite,” Frodo said tartly. “Elves are beauteous creatures to behold, and walking in on him and the Widow Moley was not, repeat not, beauteous.”

Pippin made another strangled sound.

“Gimli,” Aragorn said hastily: the thought of old Bilbo, who he had long regarded as akin to a kindly old uncle, getting up to things was not sitting well, “care to add to the conversation?”

Gimli chuckled. “Alas, we are not quite as rambunctious as hobbits.” He leant back and puffed on his pipe. “In truth, romance is rare in my culture – admired well enough, but not prized highly, and many of my people never marry at all. Many do not desire it, being so engrossed in their crafts. There are dwarven songs of great loves and terrible loss that could put even an elvish lay to shame,” Legolas twitched, “but it is beauteous rare. What is romance compared to the joy of your work, the stonecraft and metalwork that outlasts the ages, the artistry of one’s hands?”

Pippin opened his mouth to say something about drilling, tunnelling and chisels, but was stopped when Sam, without any apparent change in his expression, took hold of his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“Though Bilbo told me you were considered quite the catch in Erebor?” Frodo prompted.

Gimli shrugged off the complement modestly. “Dwarves who are so inclined towards affairs of the heart – and body – are rare, and so seen as something of a prize. And I flatter myself that I am no poor craftsman; no dwarf or dwarrowdam would scorn one who knows how to wield a hammer.”

“Pippin, shut up,” Boromir said hastily.

“So, you mean – women with women and men with – ”

“Dwarves with dwarves,” Gimli said firmly. He shrugged, and then gave a great booming laugh, smacking his hands down upon his knees. “Though we are a people of great enthusiasms in all respects. Those dwarves who do wed tend to have very successful – and very enjoyable – marriages. Dwarves may not have much interest in affairs of the bed, but when we do it we do it right.”

“Remind me to take a trip to the Blue Mountains when all this is over,” Merry muttered to Pippin with a lecherous grin.

“I don’t think you could handle it.”

“I could.”

“The size difference could be a problem.”

“I could cope with that.”

“The beards would itch.”

Merry paused, then nodded. “Fair point.”

Meanwhile Gimli was eyeing Legolas with wry amusement. “And I suppose your lot have their minds on higher things?”

Legolas scoffed. “Where do you think our children came from?”

“Be fair, sir,” said Sam. “After hearing all those great tales, you start to think elves are a little too dignified for matters such as that.”

“Thingol and Melian,” Frodo chipped in, “Beren and Luthien, Earendil and Elwing. Sam’s right, it’s difficult to imagine them all shagging.”

“Do you mind?” Aragorn asked, turning queasy. Most of these were his potential in-laws.

“Elves are always attracted to beauty,” Legolas’ brow raised, “of any and all kinds. But I can’t deny, compared to us mortals are more – ”

“Randy?” Pippin said.

“Horny?” Merry added.

“Lecherous goats?” Sam asked with a grin.

“Those weren’t quite the synonyms I was grasping for, but essentially yes.”

“Though to be fair,” Aragorn chipped in, “when you say beauty of any and all kinds, be careful not to misrepresent, Legolas. I recall you told me that your father had much to say when as a fauntling your admiration of the Lord Elrond grew a little too obvious to be overlooked.”

“Because he was a fellow?” Merry asked sympathetically.

“Because he is half-elven!” Legolas exclaimed. “Sweet Elbereth, I thought my father would never let it go.”

“Nice to know even elves have their hang-ups,” Sam said.

“But we remain more higher-minded about such things than mortals,” Legolas said.

“Not judging by some of those books of elven art in Lord Elrond’s library.”

“Books?” Merry perked up noticeably.

“Oh,” Gimli snorted, “if it’s art it doesn’t count.”

“I don’t care how many plinths and urns they include, I still use the term art advisedly.”

“What books? Why weren’t they shared?”

“Maybe Frodo’s journals would find a place there,” Legolas said with a smirk. Frodo groaned again.

“Well, this has been most informative,” Aragorn said. “If we get attacked by a marauding band of orcs in the middle of the night it’s pleasant to think we’ll at least have Frodo and Boromir to defend us, for it seems half this Fellowship will be too randy to even think of our defence. I think that clears up every culture represented here, does it not?”

They paused, mulling it over. Then Frodo said, in a particularly thoughtful tone: “Well, not quite every culture…”

As one – warily, and as if drawn by unspeakable horror – the Fellowship turned to look at Gandalf, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this debate. He puffed contentedly on his pipe and simply looked back at them with eyebrow raised, daring them to ask.

Pippin opened his mouth eagerly, and then without preamble was punched right in the stomach by Merry.

Later, when they were all asleep and Legolas had taken the first watch, Pippin rolled onto his back and sighed thoughtfully. “I wish we hadn’t gone into all that now, you know? I feel hellishly homesick.”

His cousin patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll be home soon, Pip.”

“I hope so – I want to be back in the Shire. It’s a terrible thing to think of, never going back. Why, I might never have Diamond cast aspersions on my honour ever again!”

“I shouldn’t worry about it. I have no doubt she’ll be denying the very existence of your honour the minute we get back.”

Pippin perked up. “You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.” Merry tucked an arm behind his head. “Funny to think of, isn’t it, old Gandalf? Though I suppose he doesn’t go in much for romance - wizards probably have too much to think about, what with their great works and all.”

“And their staffs.”

“Yes Pip.”

“It must take a lot of maintaining, a mighty staff such as that.”

“Good night, Pippin.”

“And another thing – ”

“Pip?”

“Yes?”

“I can’t help but think you’re working your way up to a dirty joke about a wizard’s staff. I’d rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same to you.”

#lord of the rings #lotr #merry brandybuck #pippin took #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #boromir #legolas #gimli #aragorn #gandalf #my fanfiction #someone take these characters away from me #ace boromir #demi sam #bi merry and pippin #no-one in this fellowship is straight

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years ago

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The Obey Me Boys as RPG Bosses: Frostheart

CHAPTERS: Prologue + Beelzebub and Belphegor , Asmodeus, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Lucifer, ??? (YOU ARE HERE), ???, Endings

You are one of many hunters in a land cursed with everlasting winter. You yourself have become rime-touched after an attack by your fellow corrupted hunter, an incident that left you traumatized and lame. Even your hunter’s guild has resigned you to a life of mere cleaning and upkeep duties, and you have spent the last seven years in the depths of your guild’s archives.

Then the White Witch spirits your little brother away into her castle, taking with her the only family you have ever known. Armed with your trusty hunting knife and bow – and aided by your senior hunter, Simeon – you set off into the rime-cursed lands to find Luke and end the White Witch’s reign once and for all.

**Very loosely based on The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen.

Word Count: 2,369 words

TW: Blood, Violence, Gore

[???]

Despite the spread of the curse, you find that your skin grows numb at his touch. His hands -- his perfectly carved, crystalline hands -- cup the sides of your cheek with a strange tenderness, his fingers tracing the soft line of your jaw. A gentle sort of scrutiny. Then there is the matter of the man himself: his form appears to have been carved from ice, translucent as he is, and the smile that graces his delicate features shows no sign of cracking the surface of his skin. An ice sculpture brought to life, it would seem. While you’ve heard of the strange corruption that encompasses the White Witch’s realm, you would have never expected it to procure such a being.

The White Witch’s subjects have only ever attacked you. You had fought them off again and again, nearly losing your life every encounter -- and yet you can’t help but feel as if something is missing from the recollection. As if something dear and important has been torn away. You must have an audience with the White Witch, yes, but why? What could have compelled you to undertake such a dangerous journey? Why does your heart feel so hollow?

Stay away, some buried part of your conscience whispers. Your rime-touched eye discerns only an emptiness where his desires should be, the curse somehow barring you from looking within him. He’s --

“What a joyous day!” he cries, pulling you into a frigid embrace. “We’ve been expecting you, my dear. Oh, and don’t mind the castle guards -- I can always conjure up some more.”

You only blink up at him when he finally lets you pull away, confused. While it is nice not being attacked for once, you must have an audience with the White Witch. You try to make the demand in the most polite manner you can muster. Whatever reasons you may have for coming here -- you’ll certainly remember them on the way to the throne room, won’t you?

He only gives you a bewildered look. “You’ve had quite the journey, my dear! I’ll not have a guest see Her Ladyship in such an exhausted state.”

His name is Michael, you learn. While he handles many tasks in the castle -- almost too many, he says in a jesting tone -- taking care of the White Witch’s guests is highest priority. They don’t receive many guests, after all. You are led through massive halls carved from ice, pass windows and walls draped with expensive tapestries, and walk beneath cupolas adorned with reliefs of various animals. Images of serpents, oxen, crows, and more are scattered about the place. It is all you can do not to gawk openly at the sheer opulence.

You are whisked away by servants before you can protest. The ice-carved handmaidens draw a warm, rose-scented bath for you, washing away what feels like weeks of blood and grime from your skin. The clothes that have been set out for you have been sewn from fine silk, the sleeves trimmed with white fur, and it takes no less than a moment for you to note just how perfectly tailored the garments are. As if you are a mere doll, you can’t help but think. The thought settles like lead at the bottom of your stomach, an inexplicable, deep-seated worry making itself known.

Yet your misgivings are completely dispelled an hour later.

You’ve never seen such an array of fine dishes. Calf’s heart in cream sauce, pan-fried liver served with mushrooms, and cold slices of veal. Caramelized onions atop minced beef, grilled lamb with dry herbs, and a whole roast goose with golden skin. Crispy potatoes, egg-cakes, and tarts filled with root vegetables. Best of all, platters of stewed apples and berry compote topped with fresh whipped cream sit just to the side, waiting to be served. It is too much for two people to eat -- much less one person, judging by Michael’s lack of a plate -- but you don’t care. It only takes one encouraging gesture on his part for you to begin picking at the dishes, trying bits and pieces of everything. Each bite is more flavorful and perfect than the last.

A crystal goblet is placed in your hands halfway through the meal, its contents a clear, vaguely saccharine liquid. Mirrorwine, according to Michael. Some part of your conscience tells you not to drink it.

“Oh, there’s no need to be shy,” Michael assures you, handing out his own goblet for a servant to attend to. He raises it in your direction. “I believe it’ll do you some good, my dear. It is said that mirrorwine eases your aches and pains, whatever they may be.”

You wait for him to take a sip before you do -- only to find that it truly does lessen your bodily pains, just as he said it would. A single sip draws away the nagging soreness of your lame leg, and even the strain of carrying the crystalline limb seems to have disappeared. Michael gives you a knowing smile when you all but exclaim in astonishment, encouraging you to have more. If it is to your liking, he’ll call for a servant to fetch another bottle of it.

You take another long sip of the mirrorwine, feeling something like a knot unravel within you. Again there is that hollow sensation -- whereislukewhereissimeonhowcouldyouforget -- but you push it aside, enjoying the coolness washing over you. The carved chamber glistens, and Michael’s ice-like body seems to lose that strange, off-putting quality. There is only an unparalleled beauty when you look upon him, much to your surprise. How had it gone unnoticed before? How could you find fault within such a perfect being?

A third sip. A chill permeates your bones, runs its icy fingers along your spine, and embraces the confines of your weak body. You need to -- no, that’s not right. You don’t need to do anything. Why would you ever want to step outside of the castle again? You belong here. You’ve only ever belonged here.

A hand rests upon your shoulder. You look up to see Michael eyeing the empty goblet with amusement. “I would have never expected you to be such a carouser, small as you are,” he remarks.

You apologize out of embarrassment, but he merely waves it off. A gesture towards an ice-carved servant sends them scurrying out of the room. Another bottle of mirrorwine is to be served, it seems, but you don’t think you need another. Surely that would taking advantage of --

“Nonsense! You are an esteemed guest, my dear.”

A soft kiss is pressed to your brow -- a burst of winter, piercing and unyielding -- and your heart embraces the frost.

* * *

You hum happily as the comb passes through your locks, enjoying the sensation of the carved bone against your scalp. It is a wondrous thing to be tended to so well -- and by such a breathtaking creature, no less -- so you do your best to sit still. The crystallization of your lame leg seems to have spread, but Michael reassures you that it’s nothing to be worried about. It is merely a part of the process.

An ever-present feeling tugs at your thoughts at all hours of the day. You came here for something, didn’t you? You came here to see the White Witch. You must see the witch, and you do your best to remind Michael.

“But you aren’t ready yet, my little doll.” A frown graces his wonderful, perfect face. “You’re happy here, aren’t you? Do I not tend to your every need?”

He does! He does, it’s just that --

“Fret not,” says Michael, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your thoughts scatter. “You’ll see her when you’re ready. And you do want to be ready, don’t you?”

You nod obediently.

* * *

You gaze upon your reflection in the bath. Has your skin always been so bloodless? So blue? Have your eyes always been afflicted with that strange color? You blink, and your eyelids move seamlessly against the layer of hoarfrost.

* * *

“That Luke of yours has quite the natural talent for baking, wouldn’t you agree?” Michael plucks a macaron from the display, eyeing it with an almost scholar’s interest. “No experience with such delicate ingredients, no training -- and yet he is still capable of such perfection. Isn’t that wonderful?”

You only give him a confused glance. Who is this Luke? Is he a new pastry chef?

“Oh, do forgive me, my dear. That little detail always slips my mind.”

An ice-carved servant enters the room, bows, and whispers something into Michael’s ear. You pout. While Michael always takes his leave at this time, can’t he spare you just a second longer? As if sensing your thoughts -- or perhaps only expecting them, given how he’s learned nearly everything else about you -- he presses a kiss to your temple, promising to return in a moment. That intoxicating chill fills your body once more, and you let out a sigh of satisfaction.

You peruse the options on the table before you. Berry compote seems a bit too sweet to accompany the tea, as are the crepes. The rice pudding is beholden with a bit too much salt, the lemon custard has too little rum, and you’ve had stewed apples too much recently. Your gaze draws to a strange loaf on a plate on the far side of the table, and you ask a passing servant to identify it for you.

“That would be rye bread, miss,” says the ice-carved servant. “Shall I take it away for you? It is most unsightly.”

You were merely curious, you tell her. There’s no need to remove it just yet.

You as you pick up the loaf, turning it over in your hands. The bread is the color of spruce bark and almost as dense, its insides studded with seeds. While you should find it unsightly -- Michael tends to place appearance over taste when it comes to dishes -- you find that you can find no fault in it. There is only a strange sense of nostalgia.

You’ve lost something, haven’t you?

You tear off a piece of the bread with care, staring at it for a moment. Waiting. The seeds crack against your teeth when you bite down.

* * *

He smells like flour, you think, but it’s a nice smell. A comforting smell. The blizzard howls outside, Luke shivers and burns beneath his blanket, you haven’t eaten in days -- and yet you can’t help but be comforted. The baker’s eleven year old son holds you close as he wraps another one of his father’s spare blankets around you, bundling you up. Despite that, the tears still run hot and unending down your cheeks.

Stop being a crybaby, you’re seven! You’re supposed to be a big girl now! You scold yourself over and over again. How’s Luke gonna see you as his real big sister if you can’t even stop crying?

“Don’t cry, it’s okay,” he soothes you. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

But everyone’s already gone! Mama’s gone, Luke’s parents are gone, and now there’s no one left! If it weren’t -- if it weren’t for that stupid witch and the rime and the monsters, then --

The baker’s son only hushes you again, pulling the blanket tighter around you. You sniffle. You can stay and hide here in his family’s shed, according to him -- but how much of what he said is true? How do you know he won’t be dragged away into the woods like everybody else? How do you know he won’t just leave? The baker’s son rocks you back and forth for a few minutes before finally pulling away. There’s something he needs to get for you, apparently. Something that you’ll like.

The baker’s son returns a few minutes later and hands you something wrapped in cloth. A burnt, uneven loaf sits within it. Despite your hunger, you can’t bring yourself to want it.

“Made it myself this morning,” he says, beaming with pride. “It’s burnt, but I’m pretty sure it’s still good. I can bring more stuff tomorrow.”

You thank him, trying to discreetly wrap it up again -- but a quick glance in his direction tells you that’ll hurt his feelings. Your teeth scrape awkwardly against the burnt loaf, sinking into a particularly crunchy, scorched spot, and you try to chew as politely as you can.

He smiles. “Well, what do you think? Good, right?”

You nod wordlessly. Your mouth is sore enough to take your mind off crying, at least for now.

His name is Simeon, you learn. His name is Simeon, he smells like flour, he’s a terrible baker, and he promises he’ll be one of the best hunters ever. Luke is four and loves listening to his stories when Simeon can sneak away for a night. You get used to Simeon’s terrible rye bread at some point, because you would do anything for the people you love. You would do anything to protect them, even if that means telling them their rye bread is good when it nearly breaks your teeth.

* * *

The tears carve their way down your cheeks, cutting through the layer of rime. Your tea cup lies shattered on the ground, the contents spilled against the icy floor, and the body is horribly, unbearably cold. It is only then that you realize just how thin your clothes are: the silk raiment that Michael has dressed you in is paper-thin, your feet are covered only by a pair of woolen slippers, and there is no cloak in sight. Your supplies are gone.

The crow-beast had taken your dearest, most fond memories in exchange for freeing Simeon. Simeon had been let go, you remember, but where had he gone afterwards? Where exactly is Luke and what have they done to him? That ice golem -- how long has he bewitched you? How much longer do you have until the curse of the rime takes hold of you once more?

The door creaks open. Michael, the doll-maker, has returned. A knife sits beneath one of the platters at the table.

Tip: You are fighting [Michael, the Doll-maker]. Bide your time and pretend to be spellbound until you have an opening. You have only one chance.

[NEXT: ???]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me mc #obey me michael #om simeon #om michael #om luke #om mc #frostheart #blood tw #violence tw #gore tw

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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The Legion of Super Heroes Reviews: The Legion of Substitute Heroes or Unsung Heroes

Happy 29th Birthday to Me! Yes it’s my birthday which means it’s time for reflection, griping about getting older and cake. And after an exausting weekend of grappling with a growth, i’m not going to go into anymore detail, I can finally, relax celebrate and get back to reviewing. And since i’ts my big day, that means I decided to dedicate today’s reviews to things that mean a hell of a lot to me and in one way or another shaped me as a person. A self indulgant way to reflect on my past, look to the future and show y’all some stuff I really like. So with that out of the way let’s talk about the Legion of Super Heroes.. and their oddball sub team I love dearly.

This is also my first chance to talk about DC Comics on my blog. I’m honestly shocked that in the year i’ve been reviewing stuff regularly, the other half of the big two superhero comic publishers hasn’t come up. While I do tend to lean towards marvel, in part because Marvel is simply better at collecting their stuff and putting it on sale more often, it’s still the home of some of my faviorite properties: Justice League International, The Green Lanterns (Minus Hal), Teen Titans, Wonder Woman, Oracle, Batgirl (All of them, particularly Steph and Cass), Young Justice, Supergirl, my personal boy The Martian Manhunter.. the list dosen’t go on by much but it indeed goes on. I”ve been reading dc comics since I was in middle school, and I haven’t stopped since and don’t intend to stop now and maybe in the next year I can get around to tackling some of their awesome cartoons and comics more eh? But yeah among these titans, including the actual titans, are the Legion, one of the most unique and awesome super team concepts in my humble opinon and , even for DC, one of the teams with the most tangled up histories.

First created in the Silver Age by writer Otto Binder and Artist Al Plastino, The Legion of Superheroes is DC”s first successful teen superhero team, predating the titans by a few years, though I dearly love both wildly diffrent teams. The Legion is defined by their high concept: A thousand years into the future, three super teens from diffrent worlds who happened to be on the same ship with billionare RJ Brande, saved Brande from some goons hired by his crooked buisness partner.

And exposed him. Inspirired by their courage, heart and skill, Brande latter called the three together to form them into a super team, one inspiried by the legends of teen hero Superboy.

No not Conner though it was nice to get to show off my poster of him. While he was part of the second continuities legion, we’ll get to that, he’s not the superboy we’re looking for. He is damn great though and it’s good to have you back bud.

Not Jon either, though I do miss this kid’s pre-bendis version and he was the inspiration.. for another version of the legion. (SIGH). Try. AGAIN IMAGE SEARCH.

......

No not the cool bad boy turned troubled good boy, not the child who was inexpciably aged up by that bald smeghead, and not the great idea turned into a editiorial mouthpiece. I”m talking about THIS superboy.

This is where the name came from: From the silver age till crisis on infinite earths, Clark Kent was active as a kid in smallville, and thus was Superboy, superman when he was a boy. He dealt with similar stories just with Lana replacing Lois, and Luthor as a ginger teenager. And it was these deeds as a teen hero on his own, one of the first honestly, that inspiried the legion and brande and forged the team.

And it was naturally a super boy story where they were first introduced as the legion’s founders went back to recruit Superboy after putting him through some trials, and were intended as just one of many silver age one off concepts.. but caught on with the readers so much they were brought back, and had their ranks expanded and eventually not only added supergirl, yes the one your thinking of this time, to their ranks, and yes sometimes she and superboy were in the same place at the same time, Clark willingly had founding member and telepath Saturn Girl put a mental block in his head for any info he’s not supposed to know yet so it’s cool . But yeah not only that but they eventually became their own feature in Adventure Comics, where Superboy’s stories were published, but overtook him in popularity with time. Over time a number of distinct aspects were established: The roster eventually got as large as 20 plus legionarres, almost all from diffrent worlds, and they eventually set up bilaws. Some are silly and dated such as “Legionarres marrying means they retire” which was eventually done away with in the 70′s, but others were simple logic: each member must have a unique power, no using weapons and such which rather than be super power snobbery is so said tech dosen’t fail and the legion later fully allowed Karate Kid, a martial artist, to join, no killing.. just common sense stuff that adds to it. And one of those is the centerpiece to today’s story, which we’ll get to in a moment. Obviously given they’ve been around since 1958, there is a LOT more to the Legion’s history I will dig into at a later date: The short version is that Crisis on Infinite Earths, Dc’s first big reboot, fucked the team up badly by retconning superboy out of existance and dc editorial made it worse by shooting down EVERY solution the team came up with to fix the issue. So eventually things got so messy they nuked the whole thing during the event Zero Hour and rebooted fresh with Mark Waid taking the helm and updating the concept for the 90′s and being a more lighthearted, if still not without weight, comic in the sea of 90′s edge. Waid would reboot the team again due to sagging sales, a far weaker reason this time, with a more rebllion slant, the original team would be reinstated, and then ended for a while before recently being rebooted by Brian Micheal Bendis... who sadly is long past his creative prime from books like Ultimate Spider-man and alias and is instead stewing in his own toilet dinner these days and thus it’s not pretty.. well okay art wise i’ts VERY pretty, it’s just story wise it sucks dirty ass in thunder storms. There was also an awesome cartoon that sadly lasted only two seasons that I will DEFINTELY be digging into, especially since unlike x-men evolution, it’s not you know 50 some episodes and me biting off way more than I can chew but a slim 26 that still has fans to this day. I”ll get into ALL OF THIS, some ohter time hopefullly and I mostly outlined it since some of you might be familiar with another version or “Sigh” the reboot and this helps clear things up. So yeah with all that out of the way we’re going back to the silver age and the first story I ever read of hte team, how I met them with “The Legion of Substitute Heroes” and a later subs story I genuinely love. I first read this story in one dc’s old expensive archives collections I got from the library. Oh how I miss the library. Your probably wondering who the legion of susbstite heroes are.. but since the first story covers that we can jump right in after the break!

So we open with a teen in a parka uniform disembarking from a spaceship from another planet, which a passerby notes is just like the airplanes people used to ride from country to country.

But we meet our hero, Polar Boy, whose in a winter themed outfit and has come to try out. This is the tradition I was saving for now: The Legion Tryouts. Like a club or sports team would, but I like it because it makes sense: The Legion NEEDS to be as big as it is because while their headquartered on earth, their mission scope is anywhere in the united planets which spans GALAXIES. They could be called on any time and need their full force or need to have severa l members on a smaller mission and frequently having members away on a mission was cleverly used to reduce the cast to whoever was needed for the story.

So it only makes sense to frequently look for new membbers to help strengthen their ranks... but given their teens and are recurting teens they need to be careful and need a logical way to reduce crowd flow. I mean you saw how many people used to line up for american idol before that died a justified death, people will do anything to be famous and they need to weed out those whose powers and skill just aren’t up to snuff yet, or those who are just dicks as, unsuprisingly, several stories have been built on assholes who applied and were rejected turning evil and attacking.. even though the Legion wasn’t even paticuarlly harsh. They also are more than fair as applicants CAN try again or if they prove themselves in other ways can be let in, as Bouncing Boy, my favoirite legionarre, was intially rejected for his power of .. well...

Yeah.. on paper inflating like a ball and bouncing around is kind of silly. In practice he can ricochet off enemies, walls, and obstacles and is fairly durable in that state. It’s why I don’t really brook mocking the guys power: yes it’s goofy.. but say that again when he hands you his ass. It’s the same with matter eater lad who yes is an actual character: While being able to eat anything is gloriously goofy.. it means he can chew through ANY substance and digest ANYTHING. Hell in the cartoon episode intorducing the subs they used both of these guys to great efffect: Bouncing Boy, who in the cartoon had to try out multiple times in his backstory, encouraged the future subs while Matter Eater Lad got in by EATING A FUCKING BOMB. He also had shades which I dind’t know he was missing but now I do. My point is the process is fair and well thought out and leads to some really fun scenes.

But yeah joining the legion is naturally Polar Boy’s dream, as he walks down the avenue of heroes, basically a series of statues honoring the legion and hopes all his hard work paid off. We then cut to the auditions, where he apparently waited all night. What I like about this story is that unusually for the silver age legion where it was mostly a sea of powers attached to a bunch of cardboard, really the dc silver age in a nutshell and why marvel broke out so much for having more dynamic and realistic characters, Polar Boy has more of a personality. It’s not MUCH but he’s a dedicated, hard working kid who just wants to join his heroes and seems really in awe of htem, a feeling we can all relate to. We’ve all had people we’ve looked up to, admired, and we’ve all had groups we wanted to join as kids, teens or what have you. And of course.. we all know what it’s like to be rejected by someone or something you badly wanted to be a part of. And that’s what happens to poor polar boy, who comes from a world with an intense sun thus his people developed super cold powers.. but he can’t control them well so while their impressive, they also freeze the legion. HIs powers are good... but due to their strength and radius he’s also a liablility. They give him an consolation anti-gravity belt.. they had these before eventually compressing them into the much cooler flight rings.. which I still desperatly want one of. I have the flash’s costume ring and a green lantern corps ring, but still no legion ring.

Naturally this devistates the poor boy and he wonders around dispondent till nightfall, convinced he’ll never be one of them. He soon meets Night Girl, a fellow reject with super strength given to her by her dad’s formula.. but only in darkness as she’s from a world without sunlight. She also faces a “hopeless future” but it’s then Polar Boy’s true strength reveals itself: he decides screw giving up on their dream and if they can’t be in the legion they’ll start their own Legion.

Though not to compete but to serve as a subtistute, in case the legion is ever incapacitated. So Night Girl gathers the other rejects the next morning. Cleverly one of them, Chlorophyll Kid was seen with Night Girl herslef at the tryouts behind Polar Boy. We soon learn about them and each of their origins: Stone Boy can turn himself into an immobile stone statue, as his world has half a year long nights and thus his people hybernate, Fire Lad who can spit hot fire literally and set anything combustable on fire and Chlorphyll Kid who can make plants grow rapidly. Each were rejected for resonable powers: Stone Boys powers too static, Fire Lad’s is too dangerous and Chorlpyl Kids toos pecific. But upon seeing all of this Polar Boy says they STILL have fantastic powers and still can help people and the legion.

Thus the Legion of Substittue Heroes is born. And I love them as much as the originals. As a bit of a misfit myself I relate to these guys: They have strange specific powers, got rejected by the big team.. while that trope is nothing new at the time it was unique and even now it’s a nice and inspiring message. Instead of giving up they form their OWN team to do what htey can anyway. They might not be the best like the legion but they can still help and still do what’s right even if not on their scale. It’s a great concept and really makes them endearing. Again I have a thing for the underdogs but I still really like these guys. It’s why it annoys me they got kind of spat on with time: While I love Keith Giffen and Paul Levitz run on the legion, and feel it’s the best of that contnuinty it’s not without fault and the two basically spent a full issue mocking the team and split polar boy off from them before making their own subs with only ONE of the originals. It just felt.. disrspectful. And so far no continuity has used them again until the recent bendis run, which has them announced for the Future Slate special. It took BENDIS, who dosen’t get how to use the team properly and is up his own ass, to bring them back in a new continuity and I find that obnoxious. The subs are a great concept and deserve to be honored as such and as such are one of my favorite superhero teams.

But their careers don’t start well as they doubt themslves, except for Polar Boy who boisters them along, and constnatly just end up going to missions the legion already has covered and when the legion go to fight some robot ships, they refuse the subs help.. which is fair though, as Brainy puts it they can’t risk putting untrained volunteers in harms way. Their about to just quit, in a really sad moment.. when CK, because I can’t spell cholophill and hate having to use spell check notices some odd seeds spread about.. and when he grows one a horrifying tree man shows up. They struggle with it till the setting son finishes it’s job, meaning Night Girl is at full power and whollops it and the subs spend the night destroying the seeds. They find out the next day the seeds came from the same planet as the robot ships, meaning the ships are a distraction for whoevers doing this and since they can’t just call earth, as the full force of the legion is needed with the robots and all it’d do is cause a panic, it’s down to them. Night Girl however is scared.. and I like that. It shows that while their regaining their confidence.. it’s sitll risky. Their a bunch of barely trained fanboys, and girl, going up against an alien invasion, with it down to them. They CAN save the world but it’s alright to be entirely terrified when your thrust into it this fast.

They make their way to the planet, having built a ship earlier and lie low, finding out what’s going on: The plant men are fully intellegent, and grow themselves..though how they know to attack and go to the bathrom and what not out of the seed I don’t know but I assume it’s a genetic thing or they might be some form of hive mind. point is the seed plan is to grow troops all over the world via rockets for an invasion, and it’s a brilliant concept for one too. Aliens who simply GROW the troops right into battle, born with the knowledge to do so, and right where they can ambush them. It’s down to our heroes and Stone Boy, whose been the most pesemistic, valiantly dives in to provide a distraction so they can destroy the factory and the seeds. Turns out he is useful as the most the treeple have is a space lead pipe.. yes really. I love the silver age. But they’ll bring ray guns soon, so Stone BOy knows it’s a suicide mission and now our heroes have a timer. But luckily.. our heroes are stronger than they think. Night Girl punches a way in till Night passes, while Polar Boy and Flame Lad use their powers in concert to make an opneing.. but with time running out Polar Boy finishes things by having CK grow all the seeds now they have acess.. thus exploding the planets population, destroying several cities from the number of bodies, and thu discourguing the treeple from trying again. Stone boy is able to flee with the rest of our heroes and the day is saved.

The heroes opt not to tell the public, as to take away glory for the Legion. It’s a noble gesture.. they do DESERVE credit, but they choose not to take it, preferring to let the legion get theres for stil lsaving the world from the robots. They stand firm, now confident they may someday make it to the big leagues.And it’s this that really makes me love them: Thier not the strongest or best, but they try anyway for the reasons a hero should: to help people, and not for the glory. THey remain unsung heroes and are fine with that. Eventually the Legion WOULD find out about them, but naturally instead of being dickheads about it, fully accepted them, even offering them some contests for membership, but that’s a story for another day. THey’d remain stalwart allies and valuable backup in crisis situations for years to come until the bollocks outlined above. But they’d never leave my heart and thanks to them.. the legion never left either.

Final Thoughts: While I do love the story for it’s personal signifigance to me, It’s stilll a really good story for the time. A bit stilted as was the style, but still good, well paced and with an endaring cast of underdogs who prove themselves in the end. It’s something diffrent from the usual clean cut ahead in life wasps these stories usually followed at the time. While the team’s still all white and all that, their outcasts and misfits who just want to help and have trouble beliving in themselves. Their a good standard to live up to.. and a good inspiration for me and my constnatly self hating self doutbing self. And I hope you enjoyed htem too. If you’d like to comission your own review, just dm me. It’s 5 bucks for individual issues. Later days.

#the legion of super heroes #the legion of substitute heroes #polar boy #fire lad #night girl #chorophyil kid #stone boy #silver age #comics #comics reviews #birthday

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dramartist · 3 years ago

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So i have a discord server for my writing stuff, and a discord server for my art archive, like a silly that i am. But anyways, sometimes i write stuff out on my "notebook" server that i want to make into comics, but never find the motivation to. So i figured I'd share my ideas on one I'm really liked, just to put my thoughts out there. It's written a-la-storyboard mode.

This one is called Lover of the Ocean:

Lover of the Ocean

°View of the ocean, waves crashing on rocks, on the hidden away beach. A single person comes along, (ankle shot) and takes off their sandals. They crouch down and talk to the waves coming in. "Tell me, oh beautiful oceans, what are your secrets."

°Disembodied voice from far out "What secrets would you like to know. I hold many from all over, millions from humans, even greater from life itself."

°Looking up in thought, person says "What of secrets about yourself?"

°Shot at waves by their feet. "M-myself?"

°(Wide shot left side) "Yeah! Why not? Surely there are some things about yourself that has never been known before."

°Waves crash against the rocks and subside. It's just the rocks and the voice now. "... I'm jealous of the Sky."

°Person sitting, view of the sky behind them and all. "Why's that?"

°Waves at their feet. "Why?! Why not? What's there *not* to be jealous of?"

°(Horizon shot) "The Sky is King! It covers over all; it is more vast than I. The Sky oversees all the world, and all that i am."

"It mimicks my blue to show off it's vast array of colors and then some,"

°(Cloud shot) "Humans dream of soaring beyond it, *evolved* even to float among it. All your sayings are of keeping your head up and looking into the sky, dream amongst the clouds..."

°(Seashell in sand) "The best there is isn't even of me."

°Person's hand comes in and grabs the shell, (over shoulder shot of person, shell, and water). "Mmm, personally i don't think the sky's all that great..."

"Wanna know a secret?"

°The tide comes in a little more, surrounding them in water, ready to listen (bird's eye view, but close.)

°"I *love* the ocean."

___

More secrets

°The next comic is shots of the person at that beach, over and over again, swimming, surfing, deep diving, discovering treasures and animals and life. They look happy, and the water is always at it's calmest when they arrive.

°Person is floating on the water when the disembodied voice comes in. "Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure, tell me."

"Fish pee in me all the time," and a small wave covers their face. They splash and spit all jokingly, "That's not a secret!". (Sunset) comes and the person waves goodbye to the ocean, cliff in front of them. It's quite rocky but clear that there's a path.

°CUE LIGHTING FLASH! Person drives up to cliff, it's raining, they're here to vent. They get to cliff (back shot), WHOOSH water comes up, seeing person is here.

°(Over head back shot, looking out into ocean beyond the cliff) "(Person's name), why are you here?!"

°Person just huffs, (up close with just person and clouded sky and lighting), and screams (far shot, person tiny, cliffside and ocean.

Or maybe after they huff with lightning, the waves crash into the cliff, big water shot, and person screams facing all that water. Whichever thumbnail looks better

°Not entirely sure where to go next, but maybe if i keep the far shot, the next bit would be the person jumping off of the cliff that they dive off of all the time. *Then* waves crash into it, but in an attempt to actually catch the person instead. (One shot them running, next far shot of them jumping, finally the water catching them.)

°(Clouds) become lighter, waves stop crashing, rain stops. The worst of the storm is over. Person washes up on shore. *Alive* obviously. More ~scenery shots~. We come to view the person, looking up from the water, cliffs behind them. They're sad.

°(Just water, but dialogue is from person) "Ocean, spare me some wisedom."

°Then the water, "What would you like to know?"

°"How do you put up with all of it?" (Close side profile. Maybe just eyes? Pained eyes?) "You see all, know tales from all around the world, so how do you handle the horrors that come with it?"

°The water pools around them, (over shoulder shot). "I do not *see all*, I am simply told of it. But it *is* burdensome."

°(Back to them, looking up at them. Maybe distorted underwater view?) "Then how do you deal with it?"

°(I'm running out of mental images of the ocean) "I simply accept it as is. I take whatever comes at me. I cannot hold onto it and bear grudge. Things simply happen, and they're always happening. I just accept it and keep changing."

°Moments of silence, scenery shots, and then the person realizes. "Ocean, why were *you* upset earlier?"

°(wide shot of ocean, person to right of screen) "Me? Upset?"

°Person says "You say that you just accept that things happen, that you take whatever happens like it's nothing. And in all the times i visited you, why was this the first that i saw you rampaging? What are you hiding?"

°(overview shot, legs in water) "Oh i hide so much, human. I hold many hidden secrets. You know this." Person is quiet. "... But, if i tell you what troubles me, will you let me bear your burden?"

°(right side view this time, person looking out into the setting sun, a tired relief.) "... A secret for a secret. Like it's always been."

°Now whether to add this to the end or not, or just add a side comic explaining it, but Ocean admits that the weight of the world hurts them sometimes. They pity life, it saddens them, makes them angry, they are spiteful, and yet sorrowful. They worry, they care, they can't *carry it all* sometimes. Sometimes things just happen and they feel so lost. And sometimes it causes them to lash out. But storms are healthy sometimes. Storms help ocean... essentially help with the whole water cycle bizz, but in a metaphorical way of saying that they can't sit and stew on the same thing over and over again- it's unhealthy to do that. So you gotta change things up, get things off your chest. They've been so calm ever since they met Person, it's the happiest they've ever been. So if they storm again, they hope person will understand that it will pass eventually and that they're okay now.

°Person feels a little guilty now, because they came back to unload their emotional baggage onto Ocean, but they insist, because Ocean has the wisdom of billions before them. Undecided what their burden is, maybe a fight with a lover- using the sun comparison from before- how the person viewed this lover like the sun, and ultimately flew too close. Insert quirky Ocean being like, "at least you have me to catch you". :D and that's pretty much it

#lover of the ocean #story concept #comic concept #my writing #ocean

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years ago

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Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Words: 3,998 Warnings: Bad Teachers, Scorn of Peers, Violence Against Golems and Soldiers, Weapons, Negative Self-Talk, Negative Self Image, Playful Threats Characters: Roman, Thomas, Virgil Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Vibing™ too hard

Chapter 23

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

Roman sighed and leaned back on the bleachers. It was dodgeball day, it seemed. He wasn’t the biggest fan of being hit by something unexpectedly, so not having to participate was relieving. Roman didn’t want to do homework or read a book to pass the time, like they allowed him to, because it would make him look like a major nerd to a ton of dudes with testosterone pumping and that was just bullying central.

He couldn’t use his phone during school hours, though. He’d just do it anyway if the gym instructor wasn’t watching. She wasn’t a fan of the doctor’s note at all and continued shooting glances at him. As if he would mysteriously heal or something equally miraculous. They weren’t all mean glances. Mostly just annoyed. He got the same from most of the other people in his class. He’d probably also be jealous of sitting out on dodgeball, too, if he wasn’t already.

The gym teacher seemed miffed about the fact that the physician’s note was open-ended since Roman had to be cleared for exercise by a doctor. It was the same for any broken bone, but without a cast, people had trouble believing it seemed. This wasn’t Roman’s first rodeo with broken bones or anything. She was vexed she’d have to print up packets to serve as make-up classwork. Roman wasn’t aware you learned anything in gym class other than suffering, so that was new.

He wished he had the packets to work on already. She wasn’t doing anything other than lying back and ignoring a bunch of teen boys pummeling each other with dodgeballs, so it’s not like she couldn’t go into her office and print them up. Maybe she was attempting to make Roman stew in frustration for not taking part. If she was, she was succeeding fantastically. Roman was jittery and pissed off and generally in a terrible mood.

Fighting slouching in bleachers was surprisingly difficult. He just craved to lie down and take a nap, but the classmates would hate him more if he did. So Roman persevered and watched from the bleachers, catching himself slouching when the soreness in his side got worse. He positioned himself up high enough up that he was out of the danger zone of dodgeballs, but that meant the people against the wall could see him clearly.

He received bitter looks from people who were out and sitting on the sidelines on the gymnasium floor. He didn’t understand the ire since they were relaxing, too. Roman would personally rather take a dodgeball to the chest than a steel toe boot, but life just didn’t work out like that. He tried to elevate his feet while he watched. He wouldn’t get much of a chance to raise them throughout today, and they hurt. It was still better than staying home again. At least they were finally well enough that he could walk.

It was Roman’s bitter luck that Nolan was in his PE class and kept shooting him glares. This period was taking him forever. Nolan seemed to get progressively more annoyed at him for whatever reason. Roman sighed and decided not to look back. He didn’t prefer to accidentally start some kind of glare war. Roman’s left foot tapped nervously as he stared at the gym ceiling, waiting for the minutes to pass.

When he noticed himself fidgeting, he was supposed to wear the gloves, but there was no way he was ostracising himself even further by doing that. He didn’t care that he technically agreed to a compromise over it not wearing them in school. He stood out like rainbow tulip in a dead lawn with gloves and a T-shirt. They weren’t as obvious with his jacket, but his jacket was white and the brown leather just contrasted it. Roman just couldn’t find a way to make it work. He had shoved the gloves deep in his backpack instead.

He checked the massive wall clock in the gym as he carded his fingers through his shaggy hair. Roman had a bit of time to pass until history class. He had just sort of stewed in anger for most of the period, but his brain must have finally ranted out what it wanted to say for Roman to be capable of thinking about something else. He knew better than to challenge the times his head was obsessed with something by now. It was just easier to wait it out. Just another 10ish minutes of chilling on the bleachers to go. He was so bored it hurt, like a painful pressure gripping his brain and trying to open it up.

Roman lolled his head back to the ceiling and forced his mind to drift instead of fighting it. Something fun. Something cool. Fighting off an army atop a dragon. A spectacular sword. The dragon’s flames were acid green and melted everything instantly. Roman leaned back on his hands on the next row up of bleachers.

He was fighting the magically animated golems of an evil tyrant. He fired a crossbow to protect the dragon as it decimated the golems below. The great iridescent black dragon was trying to charge up a blast when Roman was nearly thrown off of it by flying machinations that expelled ice beams from their torsos. He was able to catch on to the tail and pull himself back up, deflecting ice beams with his sword. The dragon charged up its power in time thanks to Roman’s defense, and the machinations melted into puddles far below.

The dragon shot Roman a look, and Roman understood in an instant. The mighty winged beast flew close to the earth, and Roman tumbled expertly off the dragon. Roman and his trusty sword ploughed through the golem army, swinging wildly and protecting himself with well-timed blows and using the enemies as his shields. Roman approached the castle by foot as the dragon cleared out further golems around him. The army was dwindling, and they were successful.

Roman turned his eyes to the looming castle ahead. He had to stop this madness. Roman reached out and the dragon’s great claws swooped down and grasped Roman’s arm and lifted him from the field of decimated golem parts. The dragon flew Roman over the moat and past the raised drawbridge, but ballista prevented the dragon from going any further in. Roman was jettisoned towards the outer castle wall to get him closer to his target. He rolled as he landed on between the crenelations, skidding to a stop to stand and fight the soldiers.

Humans were arming the ballistae and defending the doors, and Roman couldn’t bring himself to kill, so he sheathed his blade and instead relied on his legs to do the talking. Roman leaped about and kicked soldiers off the machinery, knocking them out in a few precise hits to disable them. The guards at the door brandished blades at Roman, but he reached for his crossbow and fired a well-placed shot at each, pinning the soldiers by their clothes to give Roman just enough time to breach the doors.

The guards inside weren’t so easy, though. Roman had to take out his trusty sword once more to defend himself. He knew the evil sorcerer’s magic compelled them to fight, and they didn’t deserve death for the mistakes of another. Roman did his best to take the higher ground and send soldiers toppling down the stairs in the tower. He hoped he hadn’t harmed them too severely, but perhaps once this was all over healers could come help mend those Roman had to battle off.

Roman ascended the stairs into an upper corridor. Massive banners billowed in the wind that blustered through the hall. The magic was stronger here. Roman had to resist the powerful effects that caused his head to swim in the aura alone. Things would be worse in the inner chambers. His boots clicked loudly against the cold stone floors as he dashed down the hallway. This area was suspiciously empty of soldiers and the smell was strange. It felt almost electrically charged. Roman ran into a dead end. This couldn’t be the wrong way, could it?

He examined the hall further as he turned around. The walls were adorned with massive tapestries and sconces fitted with gems. The waste of the kingdom’s resources alone was ample reason to dethrone this monster. But his use of the forbidden magics propelled Roman forward to do what had to be done before the entire kingdom fell to ruin from the sinister arts infecting the lands.

Banners and tapestries littered this hall, but a strangely blank wall between two sconces caught Roman’s attention as he passed. Roman wasn’t practiced, but he felt what he was looking for. He reached deep within himself and forced out the raw power within. With unrefined powers, he could do nothing skilled, but he could break a barrier. The illusion shattered and a strident cracking sound shook the hallway. One minor success wasn’t enough to celebrate, though. Roman was here for one reason alone. He scaled the stairs that were obscured by the now broken barrier two at a time as he pushed deeper into the belly of the beast.

The staircase narrowed and Roman sprinted with all of his being to escape the shrinking passage, staying ahead of the walls cinching shut behind him. This dark sorcery could try to deflect him, but Roman was quicker. He raced up the stairs and cleared into a new chamber just as it was becoming too narrow to traverse. Roman stumbled in, his bearings shaken by the sheer intensity of the tainted aura encasing the chamber. This would be his most challenging battle yet.

He straightened his back and locked eyes with the dark sorcerer upon his despicable throne. The entire room shook with the sorcerer’s booming, sinister laugh. Roman drew his blade and stood his ground. He wouldn’t show weakness now. Now that the final battle was here, he had to stay strong. He couldn’t afford an ounce of fear as he slowly approached the villain’s throne as the ominous wind howled all around them. Then the bell rang and Roman tumbled back on his bench from the shock. Shit.

Roman grabbed his backpack and left as fast as he could safely stand down the bleacher stairs. The students down on the wood gymnasium floor weren’t familiar, however. And even the wrong age group. Son of a bitch, did he miss lunch? Stupid ridiculously short lunch periods! He was late for class. Goddammit, he didn’t even get to defeat the evil sorcerer!

He wasn’t surprised nobody told him or anything, but he couldn’t exactly be a speed demon on his healing feet. Roman knew if he stepped the wrong way he’d get stuck at home a few days again and he wasn’t risking it. He also didn’t need detention for running. Roman went as hastily as he could manage to his history class.

He’d rather be back in the castle than history, but he could never get a daydream back once he lost it. That meant that particular kingdom was doomed to fall to the taint of the forbidden magic under the rule of a tyrant. He was at least lucky he ended up daydreaming instead of sitting there and being bored for the whole period.

Roman pushed the classroom door open as quietly as he could achieve, but a classroom’s worth of eyes landed on him as he arrived. He flinched at all the unwanted attention and headed for his seat.

“Detention, Mr. Reinhart,” The teacher drolled as Roman slid into his desk. Son of a bitch. Roman was fated to detention either way. He had so much homework though, it wouldn’t make a difference if he started it in after-school detention or if he did it at home. Roman may as well do it today, just to have it out of the way.

The teacher’s voice droned on as Roman got out the things listed on the board and struggled to follow the lecture. It felt like the words went right into gibberish land when he attempted to focus on them, so Roman had to find the careful balance between focused and distracted without slipping into another daydream every class. It was annoying as hell.

He tapped his fingers on his thigh and started doodling stars in the margins of his notes. Other than clearly jumping in the middle of a lecture, he could start to try to pinpoint things that sounded important to take notes on. People, years, locations, quick event summaries, and concepts that were generally interesting. Teachers liked to use kinds of things those on tests. Missing part of the lecture was nothing new for Roman, anyway. His notes were always a scattered mess out of context, but if he managed to label an overarching category, he could usually understand them.

Roman was sketching a bobcat jumping between the stars when the bell finally rang again. He traded his homework for a detention slip at the teacher’s desk and left the classroom in a huff. That dragon with the awesome super hot flames would totally eat that teacher for breakfast. He wished to know more about those tapestries, too. He had lots more notes to fail to take and pages of homework to turn in, though, even if he could get a daydream back.

If Patton didn’t help him on Sunday Roman didn’t think he could have possibly done all the homework he had gotten over the 3 days he was out. It was like the school was trying to kill students with mountains of paper. How many trees did academia kill every year, anyway? Probably a horrific number he shouldn’t look up and depress himself further with. He couldn’t stop thinking about that daydream. Those golems made such a cool noise when they died, damnit. He’d probably give up and attempt to bring the daydream back next class.

—

Roman sighed with relief when his eyes met with the couch as he arrived at the house that afternoon. His feet were sore as shit and he wanted to put them up more than anything. Stupid fresh skin, not hardened to the brutal reality of life yet. He felt it every time the skin on his foot bent.

He slid his backpack under the coffee table so no one would trip over it and kicked off his shoes to lay back on the couch. Bed might be better, but couch . Sure, he seemed like he lived there lately, but right now home was wonderful. Roman buried his face under a throw pillow and sighed with relief as blood shifted out of his feet and he was no longer opposing gravity to keep a straight spine. Good posture was hard.

“Roman?” Thomas asked, and it sounded like he came into the living room from his office. “Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you were. You didn’t answer your texts,” He said, sounding concerned. Whoops. He felt a little bad for worrying Thomas.

“Sorry, after school detention,” Roman said plainly, flipping his hand. “Hadn’t taken my phone off silent yet,” He explained from behind the cushion.

“Detention? For what?” Thomas asked curiously.

“I was late to history,” Roman responded blithely as he flopped his arm loosely off the couch.

“Because you couldn’t move quickly enough? Those heartless-” Thomas sounded surprisingly pissed. He’d seen Thomas being irate before, but this was new and a little scary, if he was honest with himself. He knew it wasn’t about him , but all angry adults made him want to run. He needed to cut Thomas off.

“I was late because I was an idiot and spaced out waiting for gym to be over, not because I couldn’t get there on time in the stupid 8 minutes they give you,” Roman interjected quickly. Thomas settled down fast, thank god, and just looked concerned again. He was used to ‘concerned’ from Thomas. That was fine. Roman settled down again, sinking the tension from his muscles back into the couch. He was hungry and thirsty but didn’t feel like getting up. He didn’t even feel like getting up to play games. Though he had at least another hour of homework and shouldn’t play anyway, or he’d forget to do it.

“Were you-” Thomas started and Roman had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“I was fine. I was just daydreaming and didn’t hear the first bell go off,” Roman cut him off to explain.

“How did you not hear ?” Thomas asked, bordering on disbelief and befuddlement.

“Daydreaming, remember?” Roman reminded him, unsure why Thomas was confused. Had he never gotten caught up in a daydream before? It happened to Roman every few days, it seemed.

“And nobody told you?” Thomas asked, furrowing his eyebrows. What kind of school did Thomas go to where people looked out for you? Geez.

“I’m lucky I didn’t get pelted with a dodgeball. It’s fine. The detention is already done, and I did some homework in it,” Roman shrugged lazily. “Detention isn’t much of a punishment when you have nothing better to do. There was a stoner in there just doing zen finger crochet for the whole hour. It was amazing. I think I learned how to do it just by watching him. I’ve only ever used a hook,” Roman said, still feeling very impressed by how he didn’t stop or do literally anything else. Roman’s gesturing knocked the throw partially off his face and he didn’t bother to move it back.

“I… suppose that’s a good way to look at it. Is there something we can get so you can have more fun at home?” Thomas proposed, sounding awkward. Roman had no idea what he could feel awkward about, though, and he certainly wasn’t giving Thomas any money-spending ideas.

“And make detention suck worse for the next time I mess up?” Roman lilted airily and let out a single dark laugh.

“ Roman ,” Thomas responded firmly, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows. He had a surprisingly intense gaze for a dumb joke.

“What? It was a joke,” Roman replied dryly with a small huff.

“I don’t appreciate that you made the assumption that you’ll inevitably mess up,” Thomas sounded upset and shook his head lightly, looking pointedly at Roman.

“Well, it’s the one constant in my universe, so why not embrace it?” Roman sighed and flipped his hand dismissively close to the floor, feeling too lazy to move more than that.

“ Roman ,” Thomas chided. Roman rolled his eyes that were partially skewed by the pillow.

“Fine, whatever. I don’t need anything. I’m sorry, that was in poor taste or something,” Roman conceded. He was too tired to argue.

“Why are you shaking? I didn’t scare you, did I?” Thomas asked quickly in a concerned tone. Roman furrowed his eyebrows and threw off the throw pillow to look at his hand.

“Oh, huh,” Roman commented blithely, watching his hand slightly tremble. “No, you didn’t startle me. I’m okay, I’m just fu-frickin’ tired. That happens often, I don’t know why. I assume it’s my crap sleep,” Roman explained and his hand sagged back down.

“Good catch, kid,” Thomas chuckled weakly. “I’ll make you some tea, maybe that will help?” Thomas said, not sounding sure but hopeful nonetheless.

“You don’t need to do anything for me, like I said it just kind of… happens,” Roman shrugged and laid his arm over his eyes.

“I’ll make myself some tea, too,” Thomas said lightly and headed to the kitchen. Roman huffed, but he wouldn’t mind some tea. He could make it himself without bothering Thomas, but if Thomas was already doing it for himself, then maybe that wasn’t a big deal and he could let it go.

Something was unsettling about laying his arm over his eyes, so he returned it to limp noodle status and stared at the ceiling instead. He wondered how Remus was doing. He also wondered what Virgil was doing holed up in his room again. Virgil had that laptop. Maybe he did something on that all day. Being allowed to use the TV here was awesome, but Roman got the draw of hiding in your room with the door closed. The living room was open and a central part of the residence. Lying around in the living room for nearly a week made him much more comfortable here, though. Thomas and Patton were worrywarts, but they were… nice. Being out here was okay sometimes. He didn’t want to push it, or anything.

Thomas came back out into the living room and slid a mug of tea on the side table near where Roman was laying and he sat down nearby with his mug, holding it in his hands and looking like he was sniffing it. Roman caught a whiff of the tea while he passed, and it smelled like vanilla and spices, which smelled relaxing.

“I feel like playing something kind of silly. Do you want to join me?” Thomas looked over to Roman with a small smile.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Roman nodded and slowly shifted himself to sit up on the couch again, putting his feet up and sitting sideways. “I’ll go lay in your office, or something, you don’t have to stay out here to watch me,” Roman offered nervously. He had fun playing with Thomas last time, and Thomas knew when to stop so Roman wouldn’t end up playing forever on accident and forget his homework.

“No, I hit a roadblock with writing. I need to take a break before I fry my brain. We cook stuff together in this game, it’s kind of fast-paced but it should be fun,” Thomas responded brightly, getting up to grab the controllers. “The game is kind of hard with just two, so inviting Virgil might help. Will you text him?” Thomas asked, slipping out another controller from the charging station. He passed off a joycon to Roman with a smile. Roman nodded and invited Virgil to play with them.

“Do you think he wants to?” Roman asked carefully.

“It never hurts to ask. It’s nice to feel included even if he’s busy with something,” Thomas said, settling down on the couch again. That was a nice thought, but Roman didn’t like it when people shot him down when he invited them to things. Roman watched his phone uneasily while he waited for a response. Virgil normally texted back quickly. Virgil sent back a thumbs up and came down the stairs a moment later.

‘I will kick your ass,’ Virgil signed with a smug smile, backing up into the couch and climbing up to the top. Thomas tossed him a joy-con and smiled brightly.

“Okay, one sec,” Thomas said and straightened his hair while the game loaded. “Cool. Pick your characters here. Make sure they look different enough you don’t get confused. Patton had that problem,” Thomas chuckled. Virgil picked a vampire, Roman chose a dragon, and Thomas picked a unicorn. Roman was amused they all chose supernatural avatars. Virgil stared at the loading screen in confusion for a moment where it showed the map.

‘Wait, co-op?’ Virgil fingerspelled and narrowed his eyes at Roman. Roman held up his hands and shrugged.

“What’s wrong, Virgil?” Thomas asked, noticing Virgil’s glower.

“I suppose I should have specified this wasn’t a versus game,” Roman replied, glancing between Virgil and Thomas and chewed his lip.

“It’s fun, just give it a shot. A few levels and we can switch to a fighting game if you don’t like it,” Thomas offered. Virgil considered it for a second and nodded in agreement, turning toward the TV and looking intense. Roman liked that compromise, as well. He hadn’t played a fighting game in a long time and couldn’t wait to show Virgil he’d need a lot more than determination to beat him.

Personal Taglist: @bunny222 @elizabutgayer @prinxietyforever @kanene-yaaay-o-retorno @the-sympathetic-villain @croftersjam15 @ollyollyoxinfree @xytiiko

the taglist repository:

High school: @dragonwithproblems @starlight-era @averykedavra @potatsanderssides

Roman Angst: @k1ngtok1

Hurt/Comfort: @callboxkat @nonasficcollection @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123

Roman-Centric: @smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd

Fostering AU: @i-am-not-a-dinner-roll

literally everything sanders sides: @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @ananonsplace

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #dreaming while i wake #ts roman angst #ts roman #teen!roman #dad!thomas #angst #chapter fic #violence tw #bad self talk tw #teen!virgil #fanfiction #fanfic #ayri writes

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chaoticspacefam · 4 years ago

Text

(lovely art was done for me by @moonlitalien <3 you should totally go check out the rest of her stuff owo)

GENERAL

name : Aria Saal-Shenly | Darth Canis, Commander Canis

gender : Female

age : 38 as of 3629 BBY (physically looks about 24, thank you Force powers!)

place of birth : Onderon, Japrael system. But was only there for 2 years, spent the rest of her early years on Korriban and Dromund Kaas after her father took her from her mother to begin her apprenticeship.

spoken languages : Basic, High Sith, Twi’leki, Huttese, Mirialan, also understands but can’t speak fluently in Selkatha and Droid speak

sexual orientation : Demiromantic Pansexual

occupation : Sith Acolyte/Apprentice → Sith Inquisitor → Jedi Padawan (Sith Assassin) → Spice smuggler → Jedi Padawan again/Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order (Sith Assassin again) → co-Commander/High Council Member of the Eternal Alliance

APPEARANCE

eye color : Dark side amber, very bright. Naturally, her eyes are heterochromic;

hair color : Raven black, with a blonde streak dyed into her fringe on the left side.

height : 5 ft 1 in, she’s tiiiiinyyy (but don’t say that to her face)

scars and burns : Quite a few. Most notably, she has a large puncture/bite mark scar (lining up pretty good with the average-sized Tuk’ata’s teeth ;)) on her throat, various smaller blaster marks and/or saber burns, particularly on her shoulders and collarbone. And finally, a very large cluster of through-and-through scar tissue stretching across almost her entire torso, and mirrored on her back.

overweight : Not really, but she is very stocky in build, so she doesn’t have an hourglass figure at all.

underweight : No

FAVORITE

color : Gunmetal grey

music genre : Doesn’t tend to listen to music much, pretty much just chills and listens to whatever Vano likes.

tv show : mostly documentaries on Sith Archaeology and artefacts, occasionally a holodrama, though she mostly watches those because her wife likes them and she just wants to spend time with her, as opposed to actually caring about the storyline.

food : hearty, warming food like stews, curries etc.

drink : alcoholic: Arkanian Sweet Milk, anything strong enough to knock you onto your ass, she likes heavy liqueour and holds hers well. Though she will drink just about anything. Non-alcoholic: partial to bantha or nerf milk, especially slightly warmed.

book : not much of a reader, but will sometimes go over ancient Sith scripts with Ni’kasi, or read through some of her father’s old archive files when she’s missing him.

HAVE THEY:

passed university : if graduating from the Sith Academy/Jedi Order counts as university, then yes.

had sex : Yes.

had sex in public : A public place, yes. In front of other people, though? nope.

gotten pregnant/gotten someone pregnant : Nope. Aria is sterile due to side effects from a blunt trauma injury in her youth (she crashed a TIE fighter and was impaled by the bulkhead. A longass soak in a kolto tank and several months of treatment and physical therapy restored most of her other physical abilities, but they couldn’t undo the damage to her reproductive system - she doesn’t mind, she never wanted kids anyways and now it just means she doesn’t have to faff with...things when she’d rather be doing the other thing ;))

kissed a boy : Yep!

kissed a girl : Yep!

gotten tattoos : Yes. Aria has red Sith tattoos along her jawline, on her chin, and around her left eye (see image above for reference!). she covers these up with a TON of makeup while she’s undercover with the Jedi, but finally stops putting the concealers on once they get to Yavin and she can confidently be herself again.

had a broken heart : Nnnnnooopeee. She’s the one that does the heartbreaking ;’)

been in love : yes! only with Vano, though. and it took her YEARS to finally admit it to herself, nevermind poor Va sjuhsgyudg XD

stayed up for longer than 24 hours : on a few occasions yes. More often during the KOTFE/ET timeline, when Valkorion starts terrorising Vano in her dreams. Aria stays up to shake her awake and bring her back down when it gets really bad :(

ARE THEY:

a virgin : Lol, no. (she’s a whore and she’s not even sorry)

a cuddler : If your name is Vano, yes. With everyone else, not so much.

a kisser : Absolutely! Especially with Vano, of course, but is known to be quite kissy with just about anyone, sometimes purposefully just to make them flustered and/or for a laugh, because she’s a troll like that :’D

scared easily : Ahahahahahahahahhahahahaha. No. Definitely not, this woman has nerves of steel. She’ll stare down a beast ten times her size and scream back at it and not even flinch once. That’s not to say she’s entirely fearless, she does have fears, but they’re incredibly specific and chances are you have to actually know what they are before you’ll actually be able to frighten this tiny gremlin.

jealous easily : not particularly. she can be somewhat possessive at times, but usually only with a fairly good reason (watch out, Quinn)

trustworthy : If you’re someone who has earned her genuine trust and respect, absolutely. Otherwise...don’t trust her as far as you could throw her. She’ll stab you in the back as soon as is convenient for her, especially to save her own ass (or someone she does care about)

dominant : Can be, depending on the mood (an anashamed switch *wiggles eyebrows*)

submissive : Can be, depending on the mood (an anashamed switch *wiggles eyebrows*)

in love : yes! even she was surprised by that one, but she and Vano are inseparable now.

single : Nope! Happily married and even though she might flirt sometimes (especially if it makes the recipient uncomfortable), she has no intention of following through with any of it.

RANDOM QUESTIONS

have they harmed themselves : Not on purpose, but had a glitterstim habit for a good five years when she first fled from the Sith and Jedi and has some problems with her long-term memory as a result, as well as a binge-drinking problem. She’s still a heavy drinker, but nowhere near what it used to be.

thought of suicide : surprisingly, no. she’s too stubborn for that. Aria will keep chugging on out of sheer spite.

attempted suicide : nope, even though she’s been through some bad, bad stuff and had a lot of trauma to work through, even at the worst moments of her life she was determined to poke the entire world in the eye and tell it to “go fuck itself” :’)

wanted to kill someone : Bwahahahahah absolutely. It’s...I mean it’s basically her entire job. The person in charge points at something/one and says “that one” and she’ll go do it (: She calms down a bit once she follows Vano into the Alliance and starts taking orders from her and Saarai (but only because they are more chill. If they leave her unattended and/or don’t explicitly say "DO NOT kill the thing!!” then she’s a loose cannon *whistles*)

rode a (space) horse : yes! she’s ridden various things from Uxibeasts to Tauntauns and Icetrompers, and even a Hssiss once, but her usual go-to mount is a Varactyl.

have / had a job : Yes. She was, for a time, the Barsen’thor of the Jedi, but secretly a Sith Assassin/sleeper agent who weakened the Order from the inside, until the tail end of the battle(s) on Ilum when Satele finally caught her out and threw her ass in Time Out (a.k.a jail/a Force cage) before Vano and Ni’kasi could get to her. She was eventually - somewhat begrudgingly - released and ordered to accompany Theron on his mission, as Theron didn’t trust Lana or the other Sith they were sending enough to go alone and no other Jedi would volunteer to go with him without further details. When that Sith turns out to be Vano, Aria joins up with the proto-Alliance they begin to form on Yavin and stays at Vano’s side to become a co-Commander/member of the Alliance’s High Council once it’s formed for real.

fears : she has PTSD associated with the people she killed in her younger years (most notably her mother and a certain someone else I cannot yet mention because spoilers), but her biggest fear is actually death/dying. Aria is terrified of the day the Force finally takes her and she has to face all the people she’s harmed while she was a puppet to Vitiate’s Empire.

FAMILY

sibling(s) : none in official canon, though in the Zephyrverse AU she does have quite a few half-siblings on her father’s side.

parents : Myala Thulie | (Former) Cipher Nine (non canon) (Mother, deceased), Roanan Saal | Darth Noctis (Father, deceased as of end of Sith Warrior storyline)

children : Ahahahahahahahahahaha no. Do not leave her around children, she’s an awful babysitter and would be an even worse mother. Aria will teach them to cuss like a Corellian pilot in all five languages that she knows and just generally be a very awful influence on them.

pets : the former Tuk’ata Mother, Chwûq, and her mate Taral. Once bonded to her father, but chose to attach themselves to Aria instead after his death; and a Woodland Varactyl (female) named Maeiv (pronounced “may-eev”),

I’m not gonna tag anybody cause I’m literally doing this one again because I’m bored/I needed stuff to throw into the queue for this weekend while I’m afk. If you’re reading this and you want to do it, tho, go for it!! :DD

#bold of you to assume i know what i'm queuing #swtor #star wars: the old republic #swtor OCs #OC meme #swtor oc: aria saal #tw: drugs #tw: alcoholism

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