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wardencommanderrodimiss · 5 years ago

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Witches, Chapter 22: catching up with some old friends

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

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At the end of August, a hand-drawn - some of the graphite or charcoal or whatever it is that smears off onto Apollo’s hands when he opens the envelope - invitation arrives at the Wright Anything Agency. Addressed to Mr Justice, Ms Trucy, and Mr Wright, it cordially welcomes them over to Deauxnim Studios on Saturday. “Guess Larry finally found a place he wanted to get settled,” Phoenix says, picking up the envelope and turning it over. “He’s been bouncing around for a while.”

He passes the envelope back to Apollo, and on the back side of it, a scribble on the flap in a childish, spiky scrawl, very different than Vera’s writing, reads, V. says your new lawyer can come too, forgot about her.

“Better not let Athena see that.” Phoenix chuckles. “She’d hate to think she’s forgettable, even to a girl she’s never met.”

Apollo and Trucy arrive first on Saturday, after grabbing ramen for lunch somewhere that isn’t Eldoon’s, leaving Apollo with a strange guilty feeling that he isn’t patronizing Salt Hell. It’s a weird thing to think. Like he’s grown attached to that place, whether he wanted to or not.

He spent the morning, before he left his apartment, arguing with himself about whether or not he needed to bring iron with him. He doesn’t want to hurt Vera by accident, but he’s wandering into an unknown household of Mr Wright’s acquaintance, and that gives him a real sense of fear. Like sure, he’s met Larry before, but the guy accidentally became a witch. Doesn’t really inspire much confidence. And Apollo can’t even ask Clay’s opinion, because he never told Clay that Vera is a changeling, and he doesn’t want to get into that. In the end, he decides that he’ll be careful, but it’s better to take precautions, and slipped the iron ring onto his finger.

No one answers the door but Trucy tests the handle, finds it unlocked, and bounds right in. Apollo decides that he can’t really be faulted if he’s following her to keep her out of trouble, and heads in after. “Helloooo!” she calls, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Vera! Uncle Larry! We’re here for the artists’ loft grand tour!”

Apollo wouldn’t call it a loft, but the fact that it’s an artist den is obvious. On the wall right in front of them there’s a half-finished mural of a snowy landscape. To the left, canvases and poster boards spill out through a doorway, resting on the floor and propped up against the walls, depicting landscapes and fruit bowls, the Steel Samurai, a portrait of Vera with her face divided down the center as human and fae both, and one that is just splotches of blue like someone dipped a sponge and threw it. They pick their way carefully between the canvasses and enter the room, brimming with more paintings and charcoal sketches. There’s one of an orca leaping out of the water; another depicts a demon that, all considered, appears a bit like Tenma Taro would it drawn by someone who got a third-hand description. It doesn’t have arms, simply wings where its arms would be that have talons at the joint, and the drawn tongue reaches halfway down its chest, while its head lacks its weird batlike ears. But it’s definitely Tenma Taro, enough to send a shudder through him.

A year ago, examining the paintings to find that someone he never met had been following along to every case Apollo defended, and an accompanying feeling nothing short of horror in discovering it. This time, this is - she is - a friend keeping up with what’s going on even when they haven’t spoken in months. It’s nice to know.

Footsteps hurry down the hall. “Hey, Vera!” Trucy says, and did she say it before or after Vera actually appears in the doorway to let them know that it’s her and not Larry? “We arrive! Good to see you!”

Vera looks better than Apollo remembers last, bright-eyed and not as pale as she used to be. Written in her face, the color in her cheeks and the curve of a smile, is that she is not a scared shut-in anymore. She explains that she lives here now, got her father’s house sold to escape the trauma associated with it - well, she doesn’t say the latter clause of that statement but they all know it well enough - and Larry bought this place and she’s subletting a room from him. “Though I asked him a month ago how much it would be and how to pay him and he said he’d get back to me and hasn’t.” Vera frowns at the wall. There’s a framed photo of her and her father hanging there. “I should probably remind him.”

“God, I wish my landlord would forget to collect,” Apollo mutters.

Trucy laughs. “I think that’s Polly telling you not to remind him,” she says.

“I’m a lawyer,” Apollo says. “I would never say that.”

The three of them stop in front of a painting of a weird-looking but familiar dog and in silence, stare at it. Loud, exuberant knocking on the door heralds Athena’s arrival. “I’m not late, am I?” she asks. “I know the rule is that you’re not late unless you get here after Mr Wright, but that’s for work and not social events, right?” Apollo shrugs. Athena thrusts her hand out toward Vera. “Hi! I’m Athena Cykes, the new lawyer at the Wright Anything Agency! Nice to meet you!”

“Uh - h-hi.” Vera hesitates a moment and then shakes her hand. “I’m Vera Misham. Nice to meet you.”

“Trucy and Apollo said you were a client of theirs - oh! Did you paint all these?”

The panic in Vera’s eyes subsides. Wondering what all they’ve told Athena about her, why she was their client or whatever else. But Athena’s asking about her artwork now, and Vera is good about talking about her art, so she waves Athena back into the room they were just in and shows her the sketch of the orca. Trucy circles around the desk at the wall, and after a minute calls over, “Hey, Vera, who’s this?” She waves a large photograph of a woman, standing in the snow, her black hair tightly twisted on top of her head, her tired lined face wearing a knowing smile. Apollo would swear she’s familiar. When Apollo goes over to the desk, he sees a few pieces of scrap paper with hasty sketches trying to copy the woman’s face, pushed to the edge and onto the floor.

“That’s Mr Larry’s mentor,” Vera says. “Ms Elise. She’s the one who began the Deauxnim name. I wanted to paint a portrait of her, as a gift for him, but I haven’t figured her face out yet. I—”

“Is that guests I hear?”

Vera snatches the photo from Trucy and shoves it and the loose papers in between the pages of a sketchbook. Larry leans up against the doorway. “Long time no see, Trucy!”

“Uncle Larry!” She charges him and nearly knocks him over. “Yeah, it’s been practically forever! Since like, since we saw Gourdy!”

“Who’s Gourdy?” Athena asks.

“You’ll see,” Trucy says with a grin. Apollo sighs and resolves to find some sort of excuse to miss this event this upcoming December. Clay will be in space then, and Apollo is going to use that time to sleep in and not be heckled for it.

“Apollo, hi,” Larry says, now that he’s gotten his wind back from taking a magician to the stomach. “And Athena, hey, nice to meet you, I’ve heard all about you.” He extends a hand for her to shake by resting his elbow on Trucy’s head. “That you’re the crazy kid who helped Nick out with his first case back.”

“Did you get to meet the orca?” Vera asks. “How do you defend an orca? I followed in the news as best I could, but I still don’t really understand.”

“Well! Let me tell you.” Athena, thrilled to have someone new to regale with her tales of penguins and orcas from the aquarium, immediately launches into it. Apollo still doesn’t know how much of her telling is exaggeration. When he and Trucy had questions about the investigations, Athena was always quick to be the one to answer, and Phoenix and Pearl left her to it. Was the penguin as finicky as she said, and so freely allowed to roam the aquarium when it would be very easy to consequently steal the penguin - probably. Apollo will believe anything, when it comes to their cases and clients.

“I’m never gonna live this one down, am I?” Phoenix appears behind them, from the entryway, and Athena and Vera both jump.

“What, you just barge in and don’t even knock?” Larry asks. “Rude! What kind of guest are you, Nick?” Phoenix grins, and that’s the weird thing that has struck Apollo the few other times he’s seen Phoenix and Larry together. That Phoenix almost reminds him of Clay, then, now, whenever it isn’t Larry reminding him of Clay. The way they gleefully give each other shit. The strength of that many years between them.

“You defended an orca in court, Boss,” Athena says. “You are not going to live it down.”

“You co-counseled the defense of an orca!”

Larry takes them back to the sitting room - he and Phoenix bickering about whether or not his decor and entire vibe is pretentious - and pretentious is not the word coming to mind for Apollo. Now he feels the artist loft thing, mismatched furniture and clashing decor. A polished wooden table has a lace tablecloth and six all-slightly-different wicker chairs, while the couch makes him think of the Victorian era. A candelabra with lightbulbs sits on the end table. Landscapes and watercolor illustrations hang on the walls, and in between two of them hang a deformed analogue clock that looks like that famous melty-clocks painting. There are three pedestals around the room, like what a museum would keep vases on. Two of them do have vases, one empty and one filled with some wilted flowers, and the third has a small statue, about a foot tall, that again looks like another famous painting, the distorted face of the screaming man on the bridge.

“When’d you get back into metalworking?” Phoenix asks, eyeing the statue and then the clock.

“Oh, nah, that’s just way old stuff I had boxed up and finally had some space for,” Larry says. “Clock’s ancient, you’d been talking to me about some course you were taking where Dalí kept coming up. Other one’s a vent piece - last metalwork I did after the Thinkers.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a clock too,” Phoenix says.

Larry, halfway into the next room - from what Apollo can see, it might be a kitchen - leans back out. “Dunno, why don’t you try it and find out?”

Phoenix watches him leave and then turns back to the statue. He casually hefts it in one hand, bouncing it a little to test the weight, and then he grabs the head and twists it to the side. A scream emerges from it. Not a very convincing one, with the canned sound of being recorded on a device with not great quality, and made by someone who is trying not to disturb the neighboring apartments - but the suddenness of the sound still makes Apollo jump, and Athena and Trucy both scream in tandem with it.

With a heavy clonk, Phoenix sets it back in its place. He sighs, but with a smile visibly threatening to break through. “Real cute,” he says to Larry, who returns with a shiny, fancy metal tray of plastic containers of store-bought cookies. Why did Apollo think that the aesthetic clash would subside. “The Scream. Absolutely hilarious.”

“Hey man, it’s an accurate representation of my mental state at the time.” Larry sets the tray down on the table and gestures to them all to sit down. “I thought about giving it to you as a representation of how you probably felt too, and then I thought that might be—”

“Poor taste, yeah,” Phoenix interrupts.

“Yeah, so I had that in a box for a decade, and honestly probably gonna put it back because imagine like, an earthquake hits in the middle of the night and it falls over and just screams.”

“You could probably have it put in a gallery as a piece of performance art, or something,” Phoenix says. “Have it set just precariously enough, and cue screaming.”

“I don’t think I understand art,” Athena says, grabbing two cookies. “I mean, I get it, but also don’t at all.”

“That’s not about the art,” Phoenix says. “That’s just Larry.”

Larry slaps Phoenix’s hand as he reaches for a cookie. “You can’t be rude to me in my own house! My own house in which I have so graciously invited you!”

“I think Vera invited us, actually,” Trucy says. Larry rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I wanted to tell you all,” Vera says, and the silent scuffle between Phoenix and Larry ceases immediately. Trucy sets the screaming statue back in its place with a guilty look, having been about to unleash it on the unexpected audience of everyone but Apollo who wasn’t looking in her direction. “I’m going to be published!”

“Woohoo!” Trucy throws her arms around Vera’s shoulders and hugs her from behind. “Look at you go!”

Vera’s cheeks start to turn pink, and then in the center there’s a growing bluish tint. “Nice work, kiddo,” Phoenix says. “When’s the book come out?” His eyes flicker toward Larry. Had they talked about this before, that Phoenix, specifically, knew there was a book? - Or maybe he just knows Larry’s career enough to expect, of course it’s a book.

“Um.” Vera thinks for a moment. Trucy flings herself into the chair next to Vera that she had previously abandoned. “The beginning of November. Advance copies were just sent out and we got ours last week.”

“Can we see?” Apollo asks. “Or is that trade secrets?”

Vera drums her fingers on her cheek. “I suppose we could show you. If I know where we put it?”

“Somewhere beneath five sketchbooks, probably,” Larry says. “I’ll go take a look in a bit.”

“So you write children’s books, right?” Athena asks. “That’s what Mr Wright said. Write or illustrate? And-or?”

“Vera came up with this idea, I wrote it, and she did all the illustrations,” Larry explains.

“I kept thinking about everything you said about names, that one time, Trucy,” Vera says quietly, and though all of them can hear her, and Athena especially looks interested as the only one of them who wasn’t here before, who is shut out of this particular shared history, but even she doesn’t say anything. “So,” Vera continues, a bit louder, “I’ll be a published illustrator under the name ‘Verity Deauxnim’.”

“That’s a good name!” Trucy says brightly. “Verity Deauxnim! A real solid sounding stage name! Or whatever it is for authors. Nom de plume? That always makes me picture just like, a really bushy mustache. Get mustache glasses for your author portraits!”

“You know—” Larry begins, and Phoenix groans and places his head on the table. “Hey! Nick! Why’s your daughter more supportive than you are? It’s not a bad idea!”

“It’s a silly idea,” Phoenix says. He lifts his head. “But I’m glad to hear you’ve got that figured out, Vera. It’s not gonna lead you wrong, picking up the Deauxnim name for yourself.”

“It’s already done so much work saving Uncle Larry from the worst surname known to the world,” Trucy says.

“Yeah, was a whole real tragedy that I wouldn’t be known as ‘Larry Butz, the guy who was on trial one time for murder and did nothing else good ever’. Except like, that time I was the Steel Samurai on stage, that was pretty cool, even if I’d thought I was signing up for tech crew.”

This is the man who accidentally became a witch, isn’t it? That tracks. “What’s the book about?” Apollo asks.

Larry ends up answering first, Vera wide-eyed startled at being asked a question while she was trying to eat. “It’s an Ugly Duckling-type story, with the vaguest amount of actual animal research.”

“How vague is vague?” Phoenix asks.

“I’m a storyteller, Nick! I can’t be getting, like, neurotic about having all real true facts in there if it’s gonna get in the way of telling a good story, you know?”

“I feel like that’s how all of our witnesses treat their testimonies,” Apollo says. Athena shrieks with laughter and drops her cookie onto the table. Phoenix is silently and pointedly conveying something to Larry with just eyebrow movements and grimaces. Larry is pointedly ignoring it.

“Fortunately,” he says, pointedly, so that his ignoring Phoenix has looped all the way back around to Phoenix obviously having his attention, “Deauxnim picture books are not witness testimonies! And if we want to fudge it when we’re talking about ducks, that is our right!”

“Then don’t leave us hanging,” Phoenix drawls. “I’ve learned more about orcas than I ever wanted to, so what’s this about ducks, besides the ugly one?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t want to know about orcas,” Athena says. “What’s not to love about orcas?”

“There’s a kind of duck that lays its eggs in the nests of other birds, like the cuckoo bird,” Vera says. “But the baby duck is nicer than the cuckoo babies because it doesn’t, um… throw the other eggs out of the nest once it hatches.”

“Ah,” Trucy says faintly.

“That would not make a great children’s story, I don’t think,” Apollo says. The secret extra-dark Ugly Duckling tale. Maybe even, if Apollo really thinks about it, that’d be the kind of shitty story that Datz would tell them. The interloper successfully makes it in to toss aside the ones who are supposed to be there; the usurper wins. That’s the kind of shitty story they lived.

“That’s why we didn’t do cuckoos,” Vera says. “That’s why it’s the duck that - that ends up put into a family where it wouldn’t naturally belong. The actual ducks in real life realize, because that’s part of, um, how they are, and they leave right away. But that’s not exactly what the story is. We stretch it a little. Like Mr Larry said.”

It should have hit him sooner, the reason that Vera had the idea for an Ugly Duckling story - the child of a different species dropped in a nest and left there to figure it all out for herself. It makes so much sense from that perspective. The swan that doesn’t know it’s a swan and thinks itself an odd duck is a just changeling.

“So then you got to draw a lot of fluffy cute ducks?” Athena asks. “I’d have gone with penguins, myself, but I see the appeal.”

“You said you got to meet a penguin at the aquarium, right?”

“Yes, but she hated me.” Athena still sounds like she’s about to start wailing when she talks about it.

When the familiar tune of a cartoon theme song starts up, Apollo figures it’s Trucy fiddling with something else. “Is that the Steel Samurai?” Vera asks.

“Yeah.” Phoenix pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ringtone. Friend of mine won’t let me change it. Ah, hello, what’s up?” He doesn’t look concerned when he answers, but he starts to frown, slowly, his eyebrows creasing together, and everyone else at the table glances at each other. Phoenix turns around in his chair so that his elbows rest on the back of it, a finger pressed against his free ear to shut them out even though no one is talking. “You don’t remember? That - no, yeah, I can - yeah. I can just meet you there.” His chair scrapes on the floor when he pushes himself out from the table. Athena winces. Phoenix doesn’t move for another moment after he pulls the phone away from his ear, a blank stare fixed on it. “Sorry,” he says, finally standing and pushing the chair back in to the table. “I’ve got to go. Friend’s having an - issue.”

“What’ve They done now?” Larry asks, with such particular emphasis that even though he doesn’t name them Fair Folk or fae, they all know.

“Oh, for once it isn’t them,” Phoenix says, much lighter than Larry did, like they could be just any group of human friends.

“Then tell Edgey I say hi.”

“I have human friends other than Edgeworth, you dick.”

“Name three.” Larry looks very smug.

“Gumshoe, Franziska, and - Ema. Notice I’m not including you.”

“Is this what people mean when they say ‘male bonding’?” Athena asks. “Is that what this is?”

“Something like that,” Apollo says. He thinks of Clay, again, Clay needling him this morning that almost all of Apollo’s social life is now based around his job. (Apollo can’t leave the Agency. Apollo would have one friend left.)

“Yeah, I noticed when I had to find out from Edgey that you got your badge back and were off to court for an orca! You couldn’t even give me a call for that, huh?”

“I was busy with, you know, defending and being in court.” Phoenix claps a hand down on Vera’s shoulder. “Sorry I’ve gotta run out on you like this. But it’s good to see you again, glad you’re doing well. And I can’t wait for the book, too.”

“O-oh.” The poor girl sometimes looks so shocked whenever Phoenix talks to her so casually, so supportively. Like after she ruined his career she doesn’t understand how he can be so happy about hers. Even if he did set her up with it. “Thank you.”

“I guess I’ll go look around for our advance copy,” Larry says, watching Phoenix leave. “A sneak peak for everyone who’s staying here.” Phoenix flips him off over his shoulder, without turning around. “Not in front of the children!” Larry yells, standing himself. “And Nick, yo, next time I wanna hear about your stupid court stunts from you and not Edgey.” Larry turns, disappearing from the room the other way. “You kids hang out and talk about memes or whatever kids talk about.”

“Did you hear who Daddy was talking to?” Trucy asks Athena.

“I don’t listen in on phone calls unless it’s like, a case, usually,” Athena says, which is a statement with a lot of qualifiers there. Leaving her bases open while not technically lying, so no tells for Apollo or Trucy to call her on.

“Ugh.” Trucy slumps and her head falls back against the chair. “What good are cool powers if you can’t help me pry into my dad’s private life with them?”

Vera coughs softly, a gentle nudge to the nosy gang to, ideally, stop being so damn nosy. Trucy stands up and goes to sound the screaming statue again, startling no one because she’s snickering the whole time too. “If this weren’t so heavy I’d use it in a magic show,” she says. “Watch as the beautiful, talented magician pulls the mysterious screaming statue out of her Magic Panties!”

“Really would prefer not to,” Apollo says.

“Coward,” Trucy says.

“How is the magic show going, Trucy?” Vera asks. “Have you made any progress on finding a venue to perform in?”

Trucy catches them all up on her latest exploits in her attempts to become a professional stage magician. She’s convinced, utterly, that while the era of magicians on tv saw its heyday decades ago, she’s going to be the one to bring it back, and without “cheating” by using her real magic. “Like if I wanted to use real magic, I’d set up a shop on the streetcorner peddling suspicious plants as having come straight from the realm of the Fair Folk themselves, and then when angry repeat customers come back, I use Mr Hat to distract them and make off with their wallets!”

“Trucy, that’s how you get arrested on theft and drug dealing charges,” Apollo says. “I don’t want to have to deal with that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trucy says. “I guess selling random plants would be suspicious. Someone at my school tried to sell kale pretending it was weed, once.”

“Sometimes I get sad that I missed out on all those stupid weird high school experiences that people get to have,” Athena says. “I mean, sure, I get weird court stories, and I don’t regret the path I’ve taken at all! But sometimes I just feel - I don’t know, something, about missing out on those regular growing-up experiences.”

Apollo opens his mouth to say that there’s really nothing Athena missed, because grade school and secondary school sucked, and everyone’s “funny high school stories” are just them repressing the rest of it that sucked, but Vera speaks first and says, “I do too, actually.”

“Oh?” Athena asks. She probably figured there was something more going on in Vera’s story when they mentioned that she’s a former client of Apollo’s, but being a nineteen-year-old professional is Athena’s normal. Though there’s higher odds of it in artistic fields than law, probably.

“I was homeschooled,” Vera says. “By my father. I… I didn’t really go out much.”

Athena nods sympathetically. She sits with her chin resting in her palm for a while, as Trucy spins a few more stories of what’s happened at school lately - repeatedly assuring Apollo that she and Jinxie stay far to the sidelines of it - looking at Vera. After a few minutes of this, Vera seems to notice, casting a quizzical glance at Athena. “Something about you reminds me of a friend I had when I was little, before I moved away,” Athena explains. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

“It wouldn’t have been me,” Vera says. “I didn’t have any friends when I was little.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant,” Athena says. “I had only the one friend back then - I was a real shut-in, actually, myself. Her name’s Juniper. She was a real quiet, sensitive type, didn’t have any other friends like me, didn’t go out much at all. Not really an artist, other than a couple years ago she said that she’d taken up knitting, but there’s just - a certain je ne sais quoi.”

“Oh,” Vera says. She starts picking at her nails, which now appear to be whiter and pointier than they were before. Another slip, from wondering, perhaps, if the similarity Athena sees is just in personality, or something she doesn’t realize she’s picked up on. Do the inner voices of human and fae sound different? Is that something Athena can notice - something she even knows she notices?

“Found it!” Larry reenters the room, waving the book around a little too much for Apollo to get a good look at the cover yet. “It was on the unused sketchbook shelf.”

Vera nods in understanding. Athena doesn’t follow so easily. “You have a shelf full of unused sketchbooks? How many do you need at one time?”

“Different kinds of paper work better with different materials,” Vera explains. “So when there’s a sale, we stock up.”

“Part of being a writer is having a lot of cool notebooks that you never actually plan on using,” Larry says, which is coming close to almost offering an explanation, but a much worse one than Vera’s. He sits back down at the table with them. “So doing traditional art is also a lot like that, except I do eventually use the sketchbooks. Mostly.”

“Oh, so it’s like how Mr Wright never uses all the law books we have in the office, right?” Athena asks.

Trucy takes the book from Larry and drags her chair around the table to squish herself in between Apollo and Athena, so they can all read from the same angle. Vera is chewing on her nails now, watching them with apprehension for any reaction, though they’ve barely even considered the cover yet. “That’s exactly what it’s like, I think,” Trucy says.

The lights in the office are off, though the door to the back room is open, and Phoenix always closes that one before he leaves. Though, he figures, if she’s gotten here before him, it’s not like she would actually have need to turn the lights on. That’s the thing about being blind - the dark isn’t any different than the way it usually is.

He finds Thalassa sitting next to his desk, leaning up against the side with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head rested against them. Phoenix scuffs his feet noisily across the carpet and her head turns, just slightly, while keeping her face buried. She knows he’s there and doesn’t want to acknowledge him. He lowers himself to the floor across from her and rests his back against Apollo’s desk, and he waits in the dim light that Mia has only partially switched on.

“I almost forgot.” Thalassa raises her head, and because Phoenix doesn’t have his magatama on his person - he left it in his desk, next to her soul - she looks perfect, statuesque and glamorous, not a wrinkle or hair out of place. Perfect enough that she’s wholly unnatural, armored as she is in glamour to become something cold and stony. “I almost forgot everything.” Her hands, clutched tightly in her lap, unfold from around her mitamah, deep blue like a twilight sky. “I left myself a memo that should I find myself slipping, I was to call you for help - but I thought it was just that, slipping somewhat, and the most I would forget was your office address or phone number, not why it even was that you were the one who could help me at all.”

“And it wasn’t,” Phoenix says.

She nods. “It was everything. About you, about my children, about everything from when I came to this office after the trial. And then everything before I was shot. I was left again with that darkness, and Borginia, and the two trials here.” The duration between losing her life, and finding her soul.

“Do you think, because of the length of time you’ve not been around it?” Phoenix asks. “Or perhaps distance - but you’ve stayed in LA this whole time, right?”

She regards him for several second; blind though he knows she is, her Sight remains, and with that she can pinpoint his own Sighted eyes. Just hovering ominously above a necklace-shaped noose. A bit weird, no doubt, and Phoenix doesn’t have to doubt because Godot told him it was weird in a stronger term than weird. (Speaking of weird, there’s something thematically to contemplate that magic gone wrong, the fae crossed, so often deprives humans of their eyes, even when they are left with Sight. Ema would tell him that two isn’t a large enough sample size to draw any actual conclusions, scientifically, but for his purposes, Phoenix is going to ahead anyway.)

“Not quite,” she admits. “I did return to Borginia for a short time. I wondered, as I did, if I could uncover some connection or reason as to why it was there I was sent following my death.” Her tone is so casual, so calm, that it’s uncomfortable. This huge blank in her past, why she was there at all, and she speaks of it like it’s no concern to her. “And more than that, there were some last affairs of Lamiroir’s to put in order - Lamiroir, the duo, Machi and I, I mean. He can never return to Borginia, and so there is nothing more there for me.”

“Shit, yeah, the smuggling charges, that’s…” Machi, fifteen years old, functionally exiled from his homeland, sitting in jail knowing he won’t even have a foundation to build off of when he gets out, because Borginia’s draconian cocoon-smuggling laws are a sword over his head for the rest of his days. “I hope they didn’t give you any trouble over it.”

“Thankfully, they seemed satisfied that I truly had no part in what Machi and Daryan did,” she answers. “Or - considering that the country has been in an uproar since last year, with a very long debate about what we owe the rest of the world when something so dangerous could also save lives - perhaps the customs officers were very tired of talking about cocoons.” She smiles faintly. “Perhaps Borginia will have its own legal reforms, as you are striving for here.”

Nothing like a high-profile celebrity case to catch the public’s eye, if the lawyer on defense doesn’t fuck it all up.

“So it could have been the distance that you traveled that caused this problem,” Phoenix says. “Or the combination of time and distance, or just time.” And with magic, nothing ever easy. “But either of those could be dealt with,” he adds. “You could drop by the office more to - to refresh your memory. Could say hi to the kids, too.”

He means - or, if she had asked, he would have said he meant - she could say hello as Lamiroir. The kids helped her out by defending Machi, and they still, quite regularly, listen to her music. (The only place where their musical tastes converge, really.) But she decides what he means without asking, and with a curl of her lip, hiking her shoulders up, she says, “I will not reenter my children’s lives while there is a chance that I will only cause them further grief.”

She reaches up and runs her hand up along the desk, finding its edge to hold on to and pull herself up to her feet. For a moment Phoenix fears that she will leave the conversation on that note and walk out, but she seats herself delicately on his desk, her hands primly folded in her lap and one leg crossed over the other at the knee. As classically poised as she ever is, and Phoenix is glad she’s decided to stick around. Maybe Mia would stop her, but Phoenix knows he wouldn’t have gotten on his feet in time. Why did his bones stop being able to take any kind of pressure as soon as he hit thirty? Why do humans live at all; merely to suffer back pain?

But he doesn’t really like carrying on this conversation with Thalassa looking down on him, either, and with a groan he drags himself upright and sinks into Athena’s chair. “Perhaps placing my soul back in the hollow it was carved out of will simply drop me down into the grave I so narrowly escaped all those years ago,” she continues bitterly. “Or perhaps one day my memory will have regressed to the point that I will only be Lamiroir the amnesiac even while I sit with my soul held in my hands.”

“But we don’t really even know that will happen,” Phoenix says. “I very much doubt that will happen.”

“Do you,” she says curtly. “Pray tell, how? Even I do not know - could there have been some other spell cast by Magnifi to keep me alive, or was my soul’s separation all that was necessary? Can you tell me that? Can your friends know unless they have bought the souls of some unlucky damned humans and then watched them die, as an experiment?”

Pearl is the one researching how to set this right. Neither she, Maya, nor Iris knew when he first asked, but Phoenix isn’t the type to give up on someone, and Pearl has a vested interest in becoming as powerful as she possibly can to support Maya, so she won’t be giving up, either. As far as Phoenix knows, anyway, there have been no souls experimentally bartered about. And Pearl had agreed that if anyone was likely to know the nuances of these particular magics and how to help her, it would be them, that faraway hidden place that the Winter fae branched from thousands of years ago. She and Maya just - couldn’t divine where in the world that is, that one final Court they know nothing about, know no one who has ever been.

No one besides Thalassa.

“Fine,” he says. “Yes, we’re still trying to figure it out - yes, we don’t know that it won’t, but we don’t know that it will, either. And say, for argument’s sake” - because that’s what lawyers do, argue, and a smile twitches onto her lips - “that you were actually to die or have your memory wither away. That you think that may happen. Shouldn’t you meet your children now, tell them the truth, while you can? They deserve to know, at the very least, that they’re siblings.”

Her smile vanishes; her brows furrow. “Then if I am dead or in essence lost, you of course may tell them.”

Of course, she says, after she has not made that obvious. It would not have truly shocked him if she’s instead said that she would bury her childrens’ relationship with her. “And when they ask how I found out and how long I’ve known? Why I hid it for that long? Do you think they won’t hate me if they know that I knew you, and kept the chance for them to ever meet their mother from them? It’s not like I can lie to them about anything!” There’s nothing satisfying about making a point that shuts her up. Both sides of this argument are the the losing ones. “Do you think that either of them would simply not care about what happens to their mother?”

Trucy is hurting, daily, ever since she learned the truth of her grandfather’s magic; she doesn’t hide it with a smile at home. She wants to be a stage magician because that’s the kind of magic that will only make people happy, will never hurt anyone. And Apollo’s never talked to Phoenix about it, but Trucy informs him that there were several foster homes in the picture, none ever stayed in the picture, and that Apollo always changes the subject (“Conspicuously,” she says, over dinner, no idea that she’s talking about her half-brother, “changes the subject. Polly’s really bad at lying.”) if she asks him about family.

“I do not know,” she says. “You are the one who knows them—”

“And I know they would care! That they’d want to know you!”

Thalassa goes quiet. She presses her fist against her mouth and closes her eyes, inhaling loudly and exhaling even louder. “This is precisely the trouble, that you are the one who knows them.” She lowers her hand, curls it tight around her other hand and her mitamah. “You, you reckless, stubborn, fool of a man! What may I expect from you next as you think you may - go about trying to set this right? To save me - do I wait for you to bargain away your own soul to your fae friends, so that they may better understand, because their help you ask of them has a price? Or do I let you search for the Summer Court and their reserves of knowledge - so that you may die there, as Jove did, seeking something from them that they will never offer you?”

“What was Jove looking for?” Phoenix asks. It’s a new piece of an older story, that at the end of last year (one of the few times they communicated between October and now) he’d asked for clarification on two points. First, if she knew where the Summer Court was, and when she shut him down she preempted his second and third questions, too: no, she would absolutely not tell him where the Summer Court is, and yes, Jove had died there. She hadn’t then said that he was looking for something.

A sharp, searing pain bursts through his chest, launching his heart up into his throat where it pounds with the staccato rap of anxiety. It echoes in his head the same way, thumping at the forefront of his skull, not quite painful but nonetheless a weight all the way down behind his eyes, settling in with conflicted feelings; exhaustion wants them to close and burning wants them to leak. He wants to run, he wants to hide, there’s no fight in his instincts, only flight and freeze, and a powerful cold seeps down his skin, from across his shoulders down his arms. Shuddering, he crosses his arms together tightly, as though the gesture will form a physical barrier that will spare him from the ice in Thalassa’s eyes.

It’s her, he realizes, belatedly. It’s just glamour, just manipulated perception. Just, hell of a word to use when she’s decided that rather than project her stony detachment, beauty that refuses to show an emotion behind it, she’ll put the fear of god in him instead. Fear of her. “You’d rather I not ask that question,” he says.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to be so emotional,” she says, and that would, genuinely, be comical. Her face had not changed at all, not a quiver at the corner of her mouth or between her brow. The only sign of her emotionality is what she made Phoenix feel. She squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her hands together in front of her mouth, taking a few silent seconds to recenter herself. The pressure in Phoenix’s chest loosens. She’d probably understand if he went to grab the magatama, stop her from doing this to him again. “But understand this, in everything of yourself that you risk for my sake, every time you dig for something new and dangerous - my children know you.” Implying that he’d have something else to want to research in the Summer Court, were she to say more. She’s not that good at deterring curiosity. “It would be much more painful to them if they were to lose you, than if I were to wither away.”

Implied: the cynical weighing of lives to determine which one of them it’s better to save. Implied: we can’t both come through this in one piece. It’s the calculations that Rimes and Prosecutor Blackquill made and tried to toss on Phoenix: Sasha or the orca, you can’t save them both.

And how, again, did that trial work out?

“Fortunately,” Phoenix says, “it’s far from guaranteed that those are our only two options. In fact, I’d say that it’s very unlikely.”

“You could have been a Gramarye,” Thalassa says. “Because there is one thing besides magic that the men of this name are skilled at, and that is pulling unearned confidence out of their asses.”

“Ah,” Phoenix says, with the vague sensation of being smacked in the face. “We could call it optimism. That might be nice.”

“Of course,” she says, not sarcastic but instead sounding pitying, and that might be worse. “I admire the faith that you hold, truly, I do.” Which is why she just called it overconfidence, no doubt. “But this way you stick your neck out for others means that it is your neck on the line.” She touches her fingertips to the base of her neck, her blue, blue eyes fixed on one of the few aspects of him that she can see. Funny, that; she doesn’t know what color his eyes are beneath the Sight or the way his hair refuses any and all attempts to flatten it or the shape of his face, but she knows the worst moments of his life, his greatest enemies, secrets that he never intends to share. On the other side, to balance their scales, he knew her before she remembered her.

“I fear where it ends,” she says finally. “Because you and I are not lucky people, darling.”

Both so unlucky that it almost doubles around - that it’s frankly a miracle they’re alive. “Yeah,” he says. “But you don’t know me at all if you think I’m just going to give up on someone.”

#roddy fanfics #fic: the witches of los angeles

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rayroute-clear-saeran-text-sound · 5 years ago

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BRO I WANT A MYSTIC MESSENGER SHIP!!!! You already know my name! I always tell everyone that I am a mixture of a dolphin and lin Manuel miranda: talented but I don't shut up. Big musical energy with every genre of music imaginable. I love food and going to cool places and Disneyland! Movies are also a big yes for me (specifically marvel, star wars, disney, pixar!) I love art and am planning on getting a major in graphic design! I've been told that I am very positive and can get along with anyone

Aye, that’s my best friend!! I included details that you didn’t put down, because I love you <333

I pair you with Zen!

He was enraptured by your positivity, and knew immediately that he was going to be in love with you. He was super impressed with your ability to get along with Jumin, even if you didn’t like him, yet at the same time, super pissed and jealous.

Adding on to that, he was equally happy and irritated that you got along so well with the rest of the RFA. He knows deep down that you only have eyes for him, but he’s still very insecure about it. He’s a majorly jealous guy.

He is absolutely glad that you share his hatred for cats. Although it may be for a different reason than his allergy, he is so thrilled that you will decline cat-related guests and try to change the subject whenever talk drifts to anything in the realm of felines.

He is fascinated by your art, and tries to get you to teach him at first, but decides that it’s a hopeless cause. He absolutely begs you for a painting for his birthday (of course it would be of himself, because what a narcissist), and probably cries when you give it to him. Once he receives it, he will absolutely not stop hugging and cuddling you for the rest of the day. Most likely, he hangs it front in center where he can stare at it and show it to anyone who visits.

He will get you lots of graphic design jobs by putting your name and work out within his musical community, and eventually you get many job offers to design promotional posters for musicals. Some of them Zen star in, some have nothing to do with him. He knows you are capable of finding work without his help, but he wants you to have as many opportunities as possible, because he knows what it’s like to be starting out and struggling to force your way into the field.

This mans doesn’t hate animals, but isn’t totally in love with them, either. He had never really been around horses before, and never thought he would be nervous around them at all. But, when you took him out to the barn, he was unexpectedly intimidated by them. Eventually, he grew used to them, and would probably even ask for you to teach him to ride (nothing complicated, just simple walk, trot, canter) after learning that it’s actually good excercise. He gets really annoyed whenever they snot and sneeze on him though.

He could be convinced to get a dog, and whenever you were off staying the night visiting family or friends, he would cuddle with it as much as possible because it reminded him of you. Plus, he would take it out on runs with him whenever he couldn’t sway you to go.

He knows that you hate running and hiking, which are two of his favorite hobbies. He’ll try his best to get you to go on walks, maybe even a run or hike if you’re really feeling generous. He rarely succeeds, but when he does, he’s usually met with complaints throughout the activity.

He absolutely cherishes the chill nights he spends with you watching movies on weekends. Although you both love your friends in the RFA, you haven’t exactly been innocent of cancelling plans with the group on Friday nights to stay home for cuddles and film. He always teases you for your youthful taste in movies, but deep down those are some of his favorites, too.

If you two ever showered together, it would be 100% just singing show tunes together. Broadway is his passion, and he was even more smitten with you when he discovered that it was yours too. His favorite to perform with you is Something Rotten, because not only do you get super into it, but he loves the aesthetic and vibes of that musical. Whenever you two sing God I Hate Shakespeare, he is totally thinking about Jumin the entire time and you think it’s hilarious.

He knows he could never be as good as Alex Brightman in your eyes, but desperately wants to be at least your second favorite musical actor. At first he was jealous, but eventually just gave up and accepted it as reality. You made him promise that if he ever did a show with Alex Brightman, he would get him to meet you.

He secretly has a fund that he puts a little bit of money into every month in order to save up to take you to Disneyland. He knows you’re obsessed with the place, and since he’s never been, he knows that you’d be the best tour guide. He loves all the rides, especially the ones that go fast, bonus points if they remind him of riding his motorcycle.

You had to give him a full on lecture of the importance and greatness of food. The minute you discovered that the only thing he had in his fridge was beer and the occasional convinience store salad, you knew there needed to be a change. He constantly reprimanded you about some of your food choices not being healthy for the skin, but after weeks of ignoring those comments, he decided that they weren’t doing any good. He tried to cook for you, but was really bad at it.

He could never be convinced to go to any of your favorite fast food places, such as Taco Bell, so you would have to go with Yoosung or Seven if you wanted to go with company. Seven was always down to go, but you would tire a little of Zen bombarding you with questions about if Seven did anything weird afterwards. However, Zen loved going to Whole Foods with you. The two of you could spend hours in there.

You would always introduce him to new music, and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He often wanted you to make him playlists, and you were always happy to oblige. One of his guilty pleasures was Fifth Harmony, and once you caught that you would not let it go. Whenever you didn’t have guests, the two of you would perform your hearts out to those songs. Zen insisted that you could have a career on stage if you wanted it, but you declined immediately every time.

If the two of you knew you would be having a late night, or if you guys just couldn’t sleep, you would pull up bootleg musicals on the tv and watch them together all night. You two would sometimes watch the bootlegs of his own musicals, which would spark old memories from him, and he would begin to tell stories of crazy interactions with the cast and crew of those shows. You would have to beg him to play his oldest content, such as his debut in Thai’s Tea Leaf and Cube World. He would cringe at his old performances from his teenage years, and although you would poke fun at him for a little bit, by the end you were showering him in love and affection. Your favorite thing was to play Seven’s video that got Zen famous in the first place.

The two of you always praise each other all the time. It eventually will escalate to a full blown war of love and affection, and at some points it would get so extreme that the rest of the RFA would have to step in. You two were each other’s biggest fans, and would make sure the other knew it. Zen treats you like a goddess at all times, absolutely no exceptions.

He would make an attempt at quitting smoking if you asked him to, and would try so hard. He loves you more than anything, and understood that it was for his own health.

He wants to show you off always. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him, and he wants everyone to know not only that you are his, but that he is yours. Lots of PDA, this boy can’t help it. Nothing too intense, but lots of handholding and cheek/forehead kisses because he can’t contain himself.

“This couch isn’t big enough for the two of you! Why are you even here?” Zen raised his voice, desperately trying to drag Seven and Yoosung off of your couch. You only watched from the safety of the wall, stifling laughter.

“Because we know you two have been cancelling plans to watch movies! So, we figured we’d have to invite ourselves over for movie night if we ever wanted to see you again.” The redhead rolled his eyes, making himself comfortable. It was clear that he had no intentions of leaving anytime soon.

“I could report you for breaking and entering, you know.” Zen grumbled, while you sighed and put the movie in, knowing that you would be joined by two extra guests that night.

��But you won’t.” Seven stretched out even more, pulling Zen down next to him. “Move, it’s starting.” Infinity War began blaring through the speakers as you made your way back to the couch, not even caring who was with you as long as Zen was there and you got to watch Marvel and see Chris Pratt on screen.

“Oh sorry, Elise. There’s not room here. Yoosung, Seven, one of you two idiots, move to the floor-”

“It’s fine!” You smiled as you interrupted him, but it was a troublesome smile. The kind of smile that Zen had come to learn would result in mischief.

“Are you sure? Because there isn’t any room to sit down right now.” He looked at you, red eyes filled with caution while Yoosung was immersed in the beginning of the movie. Only Seven seemed to be aware of the situation, and was smirking while trying to hide a chuckle.

“Sure there is!” You were able to make yourself a seat without kicking anyone off the couch by planting yourself right in Zen’s lap, leaning back against him knowingly. Although you couldn’t see it, you knew his face was bright red. If it were just the two of you, he wouldn’t have cared in the slightest and would have even encouraged it, but the two dorks of the RFA were sitting beside you two.

“Elise, come on-” You held a finger up and shushed him.

“Zen, I swear if you interrupt Chris Pratt with a lecture on your ‘beast’ or whatever, you’re sleeping alone tonight.” That shut him up immediately, and he suffered through the entire two and a half hour long movie, despite his legs going numb halfway through.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mysme #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #zen mysme #zen #hyun ryu #mysme ship #mystic messenger ship #ship #zen ship #hyun ryu ship

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justakukla · 7 years ago

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Exclusive | Interview with Natasha Negovanlis about Carmilla, CLAIREvoyant, representation and more

translated version by @Just_a_Kukla

Natasha Negovanlis is a Canadian actor, dancer and singer, who became globally famous after starring together with Elise Bauman the web series “Carmilla”, based on the vampire novella (of same title) by novelistJoseph Sheridan Le Fanu, (published in) 1872. The production has originated a movie, a book, to be released in 2019, and rumors of a possible prime time series.

But Negovanlis curriculum keeps expanding. On top of participating of other webseries and the not long ago released “Freelancers Anonymous”, she ventured behind the camera and together with actor Annie Briggs, co-created and co-wrote “CLAIREvoyant”.

Myrella Oliveira had the chance to askNatasha a few questions in name of LesB Out! to know more about her projects and future plans. You can read the interview here (translated version by @Just_a_Kukla):

Myrella Oliveira: Your most recent work on Kinda TV is the webseries“CLAIREvoyant”, which you starred, co-created, co-produced and co-wrote with Annie Briggs. How was this experience for you, working in front and behind the cameras?

Natasha Negovanlis: To work on“CLAIREvoyant” with one of my best friends, Annie Briggs, was a dream! As an actress, there are several aspects of my career that are not under my control, so it was a gift to be able to write and create female characters the way I wanted and to give positive and realistic representation to the queer public. I am also a person who is never satisfied with doing only one thing. I like to put on effort constantly, so I love to be able to challenge different skills and aspects of my mind. I am happier when I am using my creativity to the maximum so this experience was really special to me.

MO: Claire is a character altogether different than Carmilla, I even bet that Carmilla would make jokes of her; would you say that Claire has “inherited”, if one can put this way, facets of your personality? Can you see yourself in any of the situations she got herself into?

NN: I try to find things I can identify with in all characters that I play, and I try to give them some aspects of their own as well. Despite the fact that they are quite different, I have a lot in common with Carmilla, and I have a lot in common with Claire. Women are complex creatures, and I certainly am not someone unidimensional. I have to say, even though this is embarrassing, that Carmilla is way better at being sexy with other women than me. Claire definitely inherited her flirting skills from me. (Natasha laughs)

MO: “Carmilla” was a largely successful web series around the world, and is very important to many of its viewers. When you started this web series (Carmilla), did you imagine that it would be so successful and that your career would be so transformed? How do you feel about it?

NN: I think that me and my co-star (Elise Bauman) had an idea that this project was going to be special, but it certainly exceeded our wildest dreams. Something about “Carmilla” felt special, and I knew it would be good for my career, but I don't think anybody expected it to be a global success! I feel very lucky.

MO: “Carmilla” fans are very passionate and you have already been to events with them. What is your relationship with your fans like? What is it like to have so many people who admire you for your work?

NN: My relationship with my fans is amazing! I am very grateful for being in the leadership position where I am. The fans often say that my work has saved their lives, but, honestly, I think that they saved mine. It is really amazing to be able to create a positive social change through my art, and to feel that I am living for a greater purpose other than feeding my ego.

MO: Besides being an actor, writer and singer, you are also very respected for your work on social media and for always being engaged and fighting for the LGBTQ+ community. What do you think about the current queer representation in media?

NN: I think that the queer representation is improving (in media) but we still have a lot of work to do, and the fight is far from over. I hope we start to see more diversity with queer characters and more movies and series that normalize the LGBTQ+ narratives.

MO: What can you tell us about your character Gayle, from one of your most recent works, “Freelancers Anonymous”?

NN: Gayle is a dedicated actress and a nerd of musical theatre who is very peculiar and funny. She is super theatral so I had a lot of fun playing her!

MO: “Freelancers Anonymous” is an independent movie, having some wonderful women in its team and cast. What was the best part of working with this team (in this movie)?

NN: Working on“Freelancers Anonymous” was one of my best experiences on set. There was a lot of improvising and laughing, and it felt like a summer camp! I felt honored to be able to work with so many talented women. Especially our director, Sonia Sebastian, who was truly generous to her actors.

MO: What does the future holds for Natasha Negovanlis? Can you tell us a bit about your plans and future projects? Do you think of going to Brazil someday?

NN: This is the first time in two years that I don't know what the next future holds for me, what can be scary but also thrilling! I want to focus on acting and hope to keep playing well written female characters. I also hope to continue to create my own stories, and I guess there will be many trips in the future. If I have the chance, I would love to visit Brazil. I know that I have a passionate Brazilian fan base and I would love to have the chance to meet you all! (translated version by @Just_a_Kukla)

#natvanlis #natasha negovanlis #carmilla #carmilla movie #clairevoyant #kindatv #interview

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hellyeahrpmemes · 7 years ago

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※ SHIT I HEARD AT COLLEGE ※

a thrilling saga of shit i’ve heard at college; these are all from my first semester of sophomore year. feel free to change names/pronouns/etc.! more ‘shit i heard/said’ starters!

“The porn industry is moving swimmingly.”

“We all need men. Go find them.”

“It’s not an opera, bitches, it’s a flight.”

“Don’t look! It makes their dick bigger!”

“I have my own place and I can light as many candles as I want.”

“I’m not a librarian, sir.”

“How��s your sack lunch, bitch?”

“Stab me in the ass and turn me into Kim Kardashian.”

“I stayed up another hour just to cry.”

“I just got a nude and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“I’m gonna go stab my eyes out now.”

“We get it. You have a big truck and a small penis.”

“It’s an epidemic, Karter!”

“There’s no cups, so I’m using a bowl. To drink apple juice.”

“Fuck y’all, I’m eating Fruit Loops!”

“I don’t know my superhero name, but here I am with my can of Lysol and my plastic fork.”

“Your list of things to do includes making the best 2000s playlist of all time and fighting me at Cheesecake Factory.”

“This is borderline human abuse.”

“How do you feel about fluorescent lighting?”

“I’m sorry, I’m on a college budget, I’ll give you two nickels and a paper clip.”

“We couldn’t say hell, because… Catholic school problems.”

“I don’t want them to call me and be like, ‘we’re about to drill into your face!’”

“Ugh, yes, the hot TA, what club are you in?”

“My rat bastard dad? What about him?”

“I have an idea that I’m positive no other human has ever had: butter flavored ice cream.”

“I hate myself, but I’m funny, so…”

“This man loves puppies and he is not afraid to say it.”

“There’s just something about stale food that I really like.”

“I like how we’re watching our upcoming death on TV.”

“When I get wasted, I want to fight. It’s a problem.”

“My boyfriend got really drunk and started drinking nectar out of the hummingbird feeder.”

“He currently has a child.”

“That’s a good way of getting rid of a baby.”

“He can’t look at his dead parents or his alive children.”

“I can’t focus on reading, ‘cause I just wanna watch Drake and Josh.”

“My roommate loves manifestos. Especially the Communist Manifesto.”

“Have you studied his naked body or something?”

“Okay, we got our Greek tragic playwrights: there’s Sophocles… there’s Euripides… uh… Isosceles?”

“We’re so stupid we click things that say ‘click here for here’.”

“So there were just 95 loose pigs.”

“This is called shaming.”

“I can’t be the only person who says ‘meatballs and spaghetti’.”

“What could go wrong? …oh, shit, I’m on fire.”

“Don’t call Kourtney unless you wanna suck dick tonight.”

“There’s no one around. He’s talking to his dick.”

“Just ‘cause it’s Greek doesn’t mean it’s sophisticated.”

“I hate myself, but I hate her more.”

“I don’t know anything about it, but it has bread in the name, so I want to try it.”

“Just… don’t breathe this class.”

“Megan: secret crop top wearer.”

“I’m embracing my aesthetic while you’re embracing… Jon Hamm’s face.”

“What are we doing tonight besides homework? …and bread?”

“I’m witnessing a breakup right here in the Starbucks line.”

“I nominate Gushers as a snack suggestion, but, like, a lot of them. All of them.”

“I have a strong immune system.”

“I was so worked up about the bolo ties.”

“Also, I was wine drunk, so…”

“Does she hit him? I hope she hits him.”

“Only Matthew McConaughey drives Lincolns.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally a Republican… Pence is daddy…”

“After that… is the exact same thing… from a different angle.”

“All my life, I’ve been striving to be better than Kidz Bop.”

“Is ‘slaveitude’ a word?”

“Ted Bundy was attractive. People knew him.”

“I feel like whoever’s in charge of the Reese’s company is really high right now. Like, putting Reese’s inside of Reese’s.”

“One beer bottle on campus might be a problem, but if there’s 8, they’re props.”

“With elevators, it’s not claustrophobia. It’s that I don’t trust the government.”

“Headphones: in. World: out. Notes font: ugly.”

“You know that’s a felony, right?”

“That’s a… fourth or fifth impression kind of story.”

“That means she definitely fucked a member of Kiss.”

“I feel free, but also ugly.”

“This is my unassigned assigned seat, and if any of you take it, I will fight you.”

“I went to the Home Depot, bought a bunch of lights, put them up in the air, and said ‘this is art’.”

“Because I was a full New Yorker, I just kept walking.”

“We almost died, but our last meal would’ve been free, so…”

“What’s a funeral like in 2017? GIFs and memes.”

“I would like to thank not only God but also Tinder.”

“I sat through a 40 minute argument about how Justin Bieber started the Cold War.”

“I’m just walking down the hallway, thinking about ways to throw myself down the stairs and make it look like an accident.”

“Now, if it was Kidz Bop, I’d go see it.”

“Don’t name your kid Ethelwold.”

“Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes: a vision for America.”

“My dad’s not getting dick from anyone.”

“I’m a shady beach and y’all are my shady beaches.”

“Oh, no, don’t write that down…”

“At Chipotle, God himself picked those avocados and put them in the guacamole.”

“It should be a holiday: Ohio awareness day.”

“We should go to a nice place. A formal place. California Pizza Kitchen.”

“What do you do in geology lab? Dissect rocks?”

“What great weather for a mental breakdown.”

“He’s not computer generated; he’s actually that large.”

“I’ve done some soul searching and I think that ranch dressing is my favorite food.”

“I almost said his birthday was in 1926. It’s like, we got a little bit of an age gap.”

“Are you physically running away from the situation?”

“I will personally call Papa John to tell him that he’s the reason my life isn’t going right.”

“I can’t wait for middle-aged sex now.”

“I should’ve known, there aren’t two eclipses in a year!”

“I walked around with a bear taser for a year and a half.”

“I found out that the guy I have a restraining order against has been peeing on my car for two years.”

“He fought the devil in jeans and no shirt.”

“She threw my fucking pillow off of the balcony!”

“Tickets are for something fun. Paying the check is not fun.”

“It’s Halloween, calories don’t count on holidays.”

“Well, you know how I said we met in philosophy class? Well… Elise doesn’t take philosophy class.”

“You got it wrong. You said 56 point 2. The answer was 56 point 2.”

“Do I want that horrible sock tan line that I had for five years back? Yeah, I do.”

“I got drunk, threw up, got high, and came here.”

“It’s Titanic blue. I’m the Heart of the Ocean, bitch.”

“The only rat bastard in our lives is Russ.”

“The beats are so good, but the words are such trash.”

“I had to fight someone in the elevator yesterday.

“…I’ve awakened the Demigorgon.”

“We solved the great hiccup epidemic of 2017.”

“Watch out, Kansas, I’m coming for you.”

“Do not associate my birthday with math terms.”

“That’s some Hunger Games type shit.”

“Fuck y’all, I hope you trip and die.”

“I’m very confused and also cold: an American tale. A five part miniseries, this fall on HBO.”

“I am Mrs. Grey! Bring me the kink!”

“I really wanna make a shirt that’s all Comic Sans.”

“I was thinking about Panera’s mac and cheese in a bread bowl, and I started crying.”

“We’re gonna steal your WiFi, but it’s okay, because Panhellenic love.”

“I have confidence that you’re not gonna get pregnant within those two hours.”

“See if this card works. I mean, it should work, but, like…”

“I think my favorite part was slowly dying.”

“All they serve is chicken salad, so you really have to like chicken salad.”

“I have three papers and a test this week, I don’t have time for feelings to resurface.”

“I’m living a life. Not my best one.”

“When you write a report on a book you’ve never read.”

“Don’t tell me what to wear when you wear Crocs to the bar.”

“I have listened to literally nothing but Hallelujah and My Heart Will Go On all day today.”

“Oh my god, Elise, you fucking bitch, get your shit together, and write your paper.”

You know what I’m really devastated about? I’m all out of Fruit Roll-ups.”

“We’re gonna be teachers. We have school forever.”

“I don’t want your sympathy, I want your anger.”

“Clowns… doorknobs… the color yellow… ducks… I’m quoting Victorious…”

“Did you just say ‘hey Sophie’ to not include me? ‘Cause, guess what, bitch, I’m still here.”

“I live here, I know when we have salad!”

“I think Satan’s middle name is cumulative.”

“I will put up with my moose husband for however long I need.”

“I’ve literally been down here for an hour and a half waiting for these nonexistent cookies.”

“I’m keeping a detailed list of Elise’s hickeys.”

“I’m an adult, I say as I eat my Fruit Roll-up.”

“Oh, my practicum grade is in! Let’s see… 36.”

“SOS, I’m in bed and it’s so comfy, but I need to get up to study, what do I do?”

“Get up. Only a few more days until we can sleep all we want.”

“So you’re admitting you live in the woods.”

“I don’t know if it’s finals stress or if this is actually the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but I’m crying.”

“It was optional, don’t make me feel bad for skipping class.”

“I’ve heard that, if enough people fail, they’ll have to curve it.”

“How do you even study for this?”

#rp memes #roleplay meme #rp sentence starters #roleplay sentence starters #mine #shit i heard

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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James Wan Horror Movies Ranked

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James Wan has a new horror movie out this weekend, and it’s been far too long since we’ve been able to write that. As one of the singular genre filmmakers of his generation, Wan managed to launch three successful and pop culture defining horror franchises in less than a decade between Saw (2004), Insidious (2010), and The Conjuring (2013). And yet, the Australian director hasn’t stepped foot in a spooky house since 2016’s The Conjuring 2. Moving on to bigger and (maybe?) better things in Furious 7 and Aquaman, Wan’s new status as a blockbuster director caused many fans to wonder if his days in dark shadows were done.

Which is why this weekend’s Malignant is such an inviting proposition. Five years after walking away from personally helming Ed and Lorraine Warren’s on-screen adventures, Wan’s returned to his roots with an original horror movie that’s not part of any franchise. What a novel concept. To celebrate this change of fortune, the editors at Den of Geek have put their heads together and voted, coming up with a definitive ranking of Wan’s horror movies. You can trust us.

7. Malignant

Sometimes it takes a while to get back into the swing of things. While Wan deserves credit for championing an original idea in the modern world of sequels, prequels, and spinoffs—he even turned down helming The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It for this!—daring gambles don’t always payoff for everyone. Which might be a polite way of saying that for some of us (although not all), Malignant is a disappointment.

Built entirely around a plot twist we’re not going to spoil here, Wan’s Malignant takes the familiar concept of a protagonist (Annabelle Wallis) being wrongfully accused for supernatural crimes, and turns it on its head. The actual twist however has left folks divided. Some applaud how bold it is while others of us found it fairly underwhelming, and lacking a satisfying subtext or cohesiveness to make it worthwhile. We’re all in agreement though, it’s a stylish bit of eye candy… and that Wan’s done better before. – David Crow

6. Insidious: Chapter 2

As the second installment of Wan and frequent collaborator Leigh Whannell’s Insidious franchise, there was a lot of anticipation over how this horror sequel would follow-up on the cliffhanger ending to the first film. If you don’t recall—and here there be spoilers, by the by—that movie ended on the shocking revelation that Patrick Wilson’s repressed and mild mannered father, Josh, had become possessed by a ghost which has been chasing him since childhood. Worse, this spirit caused him to kill Lin Shaye’s delightfully kooky Elise! (Don’t worry, her soul gets better.) What will happen next to the poor Lambert family?

Movies

13 Best Blumhouse Horror Movies Ranked

By David Crow and 3 others

Movies

Insidious: Is The Further Real?

By Tony Sokol

Something a lot more rote, as it turns out. This is not to say that Insidious: Chapter 2 is a bad movie; it’s simply a much lesser one than what came before. From the film doubling down on a monster not nearly as intriguing as the Lipstick Demon from the first film to the picture failing to expand on the strange astral plane of the Further in a meaningful way, Chapter 2 is just a tad underwhelming—a horror follow-up going through the motions. Still, it allows Wilson to play secretly evil, so that’s fun! – DC

5. Dead Silence

Dead Silence was DOA in theaters and critically panned when it debuted in 2007, yet after the movie became available as a home release it scraped together a small audience that was mostly composed of very specific genre fans: those who are just plain shit scared of ventriloquist dummies! Directed and written by the horror dream team of Wan and Whannell, Dead Silence stars True Blood’s Ryan Kwanten as Jamie Ashen, a young widower who slumps back to his hometown looking for answers following his wife’s ‘death by dummy.’ Dogging him on his quest is New Kid Donnie Wahlberg in a wild, scene-stealing performance as a detective who seemingly can’t stop preening his facial hair.

The mythical boogeywoman of the piece is Mary Shaw, a ventriloquist who was once lynched in the town after a performance went awry and a child later died by mysterious circumstances. Jamie’s family were an essential part of her lynching, and now Mary is on the warpath from beyond the grave.

Dead Silence is incredibly silly, but an important step in Wan’s directing career. Throughout the film he plays with the kind of masterful sound design and jump scares that he eventually refined down to a sublime craft. Just like one of Mary Shaw’s dolls, all the parts are there but the movie is only possessed by a little soul that doesn’t do too much damage to your nerves. – Kirsten Howard

4. Saw

The movie that made Wan a household name (at least among movie nerds and horror hounds), Saw became the biggest horror franchise of the 2000s and launched a grim new subgenre of exploitation that’s been derisively (if fairly) dubbed “torture porn” ever since. It’s therefore easy to forget Wan’s original Saw really isn’t one of those movies. Oh, people are tortured on-screen in this gnarly nightmare. And it is very horrific, to be sure.

Yet unlike the many subsequent Saw sequels that came later, plus copycats like the Hostel franchise, Saw doesn’t take perverse pleasure in its characters’ suffering or imagine the villain as some kind of antihero. Jigsaw was originally a chilling serial killer in the David Fincher mold, and his original film had a surprisingly minimal amount of gore. Most of the picture is really about the dreadful suspense of anticipation as we wait for something horrible to happen when two men wake up inside a dilapidated industrial bathroom and are told they need to saw off their own feet to survive.

In truth, if this same exact script (minus the grisly flashback sequences) was presented a one-act Off-Broadway play in 2004, it would’ve likely been hailed as edgy and boundary-pushing art. Instead we got a horror classic that spawned a memorable, if ultimately trashy, B-horror franchise after Wan and co-writer Whannell left the series following the first outing. Fair trade. – DC

3. Insidious

Back in 2010 when Insidious was released, Blumhouse hadn’t yet become the horror behemoth it is today. So low budget but glossy horrors starring talented household names weren’t the norm. It wasn’t just these attributes that made Insidious a breakout which still holds up a decade later, however. It’s the fact that the movie is undeniably scary. It may use certain jump scare tactics at times but boy, do they work. Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne star as a couple whose son is capable of astral projection, which has taken him into the nightmarish world of the Further and caused demonic figures to haunt the family.

The first half of the movie will have you leaping out of your seat. The second half though is more of a comedy, marked by the arrival of psychic Elise (Lin Shaye) and her sidekicks, Tucker (Angus Sampson) and Specs (Leigh Whannell, who also wrote the screenplay). Made for just $1.5 million, Insidious is good-looking and distinctive, with scenes in the Further sharing an aesthetic with Dead Silence, and a mythology that clearly had legs. To date three sequels have been made, with a fourth confirmed last year. – Rosie Fletcher

2. The Conjuring 2

As a horror sequel done right, Wan’s follow-up to the biggest horror movie of his career felt like a palate cleanser for the director. After helming the successful but tragically troubled production of Furious 7, Wan returned to his roots and delivered a fiendishly designed thrill ride. In The Conjuring 2, we again follow Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga’s fictionalized takes on Ed and Lorraine Warren, this time to London as they investigate the infamous “Enfield Poltergeist” (spoiler alert: it’s a demon).

Once again Ed and Lorraine play the good samaritans and help a young family in desperate need, and Wan still keeps it wildly entertaining and suspenseful, if not necessarily fresh. But as important as his gliding camera set-ups and ability to create new iconic images of evil out of seeming whole cloth—hello, there demon Nun!—it’s the humanity in both of Wan’s Conjuring films which elevate them above the rest of their franchise. Never mind the ghosts; the scene of Wilson crooning Elvis Presley to some beleaguered children is the stuff of movie magic. – DC

1. The Conjuring

James Wan couldn’t have picked better subjects for his paranormal investigation franchise than Ed and Lorraine Warren, the controversial demonologists who left behind countless diaries and recorded accounts of demonic possession, haunted houses, and other supernatural events they claim to have witnessed over their decades-spanning careers. They even opened a museum full of spooky artifacts in the back of their Connecticut home. This is a couple who enjoyed digging into the occult, and with The Conjuring, Wan showed just how much he loved telling stories about the Warrens.

Movies

The Conjuring Timeline Explained: From The Nun to The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It

By Daniel Kurland

Movies

How The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It Embraces Satanic Panic

By David Crow

The first film covers one of the Warrens’ most famous cases, the Perron family haunting, with more than a few embellishments thrown in for an effective ghost story. In the real-life account and the movie, Roger and Carolyn Perron (Ron Livingston and Lili Taylor) are haunted by an antagonistic spirit that wants their newly-purchased 18th-century farmhouse in Rhode Island all to itself. That’s where the Warrens come in to investigate the strange occurrences, like the smell of rotting flesh in the basement.

The chemistry between Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga, who bring the Warrens to life, is one of the movie’s greatest strengths, establishing one of the franchise’s most important themes: that love can defeat any evil. It’s their devotion to each other, and their will to help others in need, that allows them to overcome any supernatural obstacles in these movies. (It’s why the sequels spend so much time threatening to tear them apart.) More than the creepy set pieces—like a possessed Carolyn in the crawl space *shudder*—and the “based on a true story” tagline, it’s the Warrens as characters that people keep showing up for, and the first Conjuring cleverly sells their love story to an audience just expecting jump scares and demons. – John Saavedra

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riichardwilson · 4 years ago

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Why This Nonprofit, Nonpartisan Newsroom Is Focused on Gender, Politics and Policy

August 7, 2020 6 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

During Emily Ramshaw’s maternity leave four years ago, she heard many conversations around electability and likeability. These gendered conversations sparked an idea.

“We were having those conversations because there was a woman running for president,” Ramshaw says. “And I thought to myself, ‘What would the news environment look like if there was a news source, a politics and policy news source, that was by women and for women?’”

With a newborn at home, she put her idea on pause.

“But four years later, it came back to me in another election cycle, a historic election cycle where we had more women running than we’d ever seen before, and these same conversations around electability and likability were at the forefront. And in that moment, I just thought, ‘You know what? I thought about this four years ago, I can’t wait another four years. I have to get this off the ground.’”

Related: 7 Ways to Improve Focus and Performance

Ramshaw talks with Jessica Abo about The 19th*, a nonprofit, nonpartisan newsroom focused on women, politics and policy. She also shares tips on how to get involved in the political process and provides details about The 19th*’s upcoming virtual summit.

Jessica Abo: When people go to your site, what will they find?

Ramshaw: What they will find at our site is not the day’s news but pink. They will find serious journalism that really aims to expose the disparities, the ways that women remain at a disadvantage in virtually every arena, whether it’s the healthcare system, whether it’s the economy, whether it’s representative government and the ways that women of color, in particular, have faced the hardest hits.

Where do you have staff around the country?

Ramshaw: We are launching with what is probably the most diverse newsroom staff of any news organization in America. These are predominantly women of color who are based all over the country, whether that’s Des Moines, whether that’s Orlando, whether that’s here in Austin, Texas, in D.C., L.A. We’re across the country and aiming to truly reflect the nation’s women by being scattered around the places where the nation’s women live.

You’ve spent many years working as a journalist. Tell us a little bit about what you’ve learned when it comes to entrepreneurship.

Ramshaw: First of all, I had never raised a single dollar before we decided to start The 19th, which I describe as really an entrepreneurial nonprofit. I knew how to run a newsroom. I knew journalism like the back of my hand. I knew storytelling. What I didn’t know was really how to start a business from scratch.

One of the things that I’ve learned in the last year that we have been trying to build this venture is how to make a compelling case for the work that you’re trying to build. It’s how to ensure that people financially get behind your message and your mission. It’s building a sustainable business plan, an organization that is self-sustaining and really encourages extraordinary women journalists to leave their jobs to come work for us — that sort of pathway and a track record of success.

It’s been an unbelievable year, a really steep learning curve for me, but really thrilling all the same.

If someone is thinking, “Wow, getting involved in the political process is so overwhelming,” what are some small steps that people can take to get involved?

Ramshaw: The first is to vote in every single election. No election is too big or too small. That means everything from your school board to president. It is the absolute best way that we can extend our voice and our collective strength, and so that’s the first place to start.

The second is it’s really meaningful to go to your local city council meeting and see how the sausage gets made in person. The legislative policies that most directly affect women’s lives are happening in their home communities. Start there, and if you’re feeling ambitious, head up from there to your state legislature, testify before a legislative committee. You will never see government in more direct action than you will there.

Related: How to Make Your Brand More Cohesive

Three for me would be get out of your echo chamber. We all spend a lot of time in our own curated Facebook feeds, reading the news sources that we really trust. We aren’t going to move the needle, particularly on gender equity, if the same women are talking to the same women all the time. We need to understand what the people who disagree with us think, why they think that way, empathize with their decision-making. That starts with leaning on and learning from sources of news and information that you aren’t totally comfortable with.

And then the final thing is if you check all of those boxes and you’re still wanting to get even more engaged, run for office. We know that at virtually every level of government, women are underrepresented, whether that’s running for city council or running for the presidency. An organization that’s doing really great work in this arena is All in Together. You can check them out on their website. They’re working to get nonpartisan women more deeply civically engaged, encourage them to run. It’s a really great starting point if you’re looking for information on how to get more involved.

For the people who want to get involved from the comfort of their home, you have a virtual summit coming up. Tell us a little bit about that.

Ramshaw: The 19th obviously is launching its news platform, but the week of August 10 through August 14, we are hosting a week’s worth of virtual programming aimed at really elevating women’s voices around the anniversary of the Centennial of the 19th Amendment. You can expect to see Hillary Clinton, Kamala Harris, Stacey Abrams, Elise Stefanik, Melinda Gates, dozens of first-time elected officials, the first trans woman to be elected to a legislature, the first Native American woman in Congress in this country. And beyond that, some incredible arts and performances. Meryl Streep doing some really amazing suffrage readings with Zoë Saldaña. We’ll have the entire New York Philharmonic Orchestra performing the work of Black women composers. The Go-Go’s are getting back together, the first all-female band to top the Billboard charts. It’s free, you don’t want to miss it. You can check us out at 19thnews.org.

Related: How Your Company Can Have a Positive Social Impact

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scpie · 4 years ago

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Why This Nonprofit, Nonpartisan Newsroom Is Focused on Gender, Politics and Policy

August 7, 2020 6 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

During Emily Ramshaw’s maternity leave four years ago, she heard many conversations around electability and likeability. These gendered conversations sparked an idea.

With a newborn at home, she put her idea on pause.

Related: 7 Ways to Improve Focus and Performance

Jessica Abo: When people go to your site, what will they find?

Where do you have staff around the country?

You’ve spent many years working as a journalist. Tell us a little bit about what you’ve learned when it comes to entrepreneurship.

It’s been an unbelievable year, a really steep learning curve for me, but really thrilling all the same.

If someone is thinking, “Wow, getting involved in the political process is so overwhelming,” what are some small steps that people can take to get involved?

Related: How to Make Your Brand More Cohesive

For the people who want to get involved from the comfort of their home, you have a virtual summit coming up. Tell us a little bit about that.

Related: How Your Company Can Have a Positive Social Impact

Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co

Delray Beach SEO

source http://www.scpie.org/why-this-nonprofit-nonpartisan-newsroom-is-focused-on-gender-politics-and-policy/

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laurelkrugerr · 4 years ago

Text

Why This Nonprofit, Nonpartisan Newsroom Is Focused on Gender, Politics and Policy

August 7, 2020 6 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

During Emily Ramshaw’s maternity leave four years ago, she heard many conversations around electability and likeability. These gendered conversations sparked an idea.

With a newborn at home, she put her idea on pause.

Related: 7 Ways to Improve Focus and Performance

Jessica Abo: When people go to your site, what will they find?

Where do you have staff around the country?

You’ve spent many years working as a journalist. Tell us a little bit about what you’ve learned when it comes to entrepreneurship.

It’s been an unbelievable year, a really steep learning curve for me, but really thrilling all the same.

If someone is thinking, “Wow, getting involved in the political process is so overwhelming,” what are some small steps that people can take to get involved?

Related: How to Make Your Brand More Cohesive

For the people who want to get involved from the comfort of their home, you have a virtual summit coming up. Tell us a little bit about that.

Related: How Your Company Can Have a Positive Social Impact

Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co

Delray Beach SEO

source http://www.scpie.org/why-this-nonprofit-nonpartisan-newsroom-is-focused-on-gender-politics-and-policy/ source https://scpie1.blogspot.com/2020/08/why-this-nonprofit-nonpartisan-newsroom.html

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abiteofnat · 7 years ago

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NYC? NYFEEDME...

Because if there’s one thing NYC is good at, it’s making sure my bottomless pit of a stomach is consistently full of something tastyyy. As well as beautiful. They are the epitome of making food into an art and waste no time or money with creative executions of something as simple as “cookie dough” (more on that later). A couple weeks ago I went to NYC as a part of a) finding a smart-kid college for my smart-kid sister and b) due to a standing family vacation reservation that fit in nicely to part “a” so after my donut-filled Syracuse excursion we bopped on down to Midtown! There was the glitz n’ fake glamour of NYC just blocks away in Times Square, but we tucked away in the 1 Hotel on 6th which has become a second home of sorts. While it’s strangely organic and it all smells like wood and hemp, it’s a literal oasis from the trashbag-lined streets and taxis honking and honking (and honking). Do NOT get me wrong, I ADORE New York. I live for the salty street pretzels and the iced coffee at every deli and the need to just live it up there constantly. But I’m a Chicago girl, midwestern to the bone and Jesus I thought I might have a better fate in store but it appears I’m baseball and cheese fries until I die.

Give me ten days in that wild city though and I will make them my bitch! Since I’d only ever spent 48 hours at a time in NYC many times a year in the past few years, and still managed to consume most of the island I was concerned as to how I would fare. I’d say thankfully we as a family eat pretty healthy and my one friend I stayed with is a ~vegan~ and the other one is a marathon runner with a taste for really really good carbs, so damage was light. I’ve rounded up my tippity-top spots for grub worth taking one to one million photos of and I hope you get to go try them all, because I’m a creature of habit and rarely wine n dine somewhere once so I’ll see you around!

1. BLUESTONE LANE!

This cafe was one of my sister’s finds, and still one of my favorites to look back on! Elise isn’t usually one to choose where we dine, but we all needed coffee and a breakfast that wasn’t bagels on bagels (which would be my choice if it was my turn to choose breakfast) and she pointed us to a little funky-chic cafe called Bluestone Lane, an Australian chain dotted across NYC. The location we went to was on 5th Ave (2 E 90th ST for the exact address) and was attached to a gorgeous old church, the seating within some of the re-done structure with tables spilling out onto the scenic sidewalk. Bluestone offers a “reasonably” priced, health-oriented menu that’s somewhat Cali and somewhat NYC-foodie-on-a-mission-for-THE-PIC. I was beyond thrilled to get to shoot this food- we ate at a table right inside the doors between the beautiful stone walls which meant natural, warm light and perfect people watching.

What we ate: the BIRCHER MUESLI STOLE THE SHOW. With creamy oats, crisp apples, quinoa for texture and health benefits, and seasonal berries + fruits it was a killer combo of filling and still light in the stomach. The homemade banana bread (gluten free!) with ricotta and fruit is a great sharing plate which is exactly what we did, and added something sweet and heavier to everyone’s meals. The avocado smash was beautifully composed “On Balthazar toast with tahini, heirloom cherry tomatoes, feta, sunflower sprouts & e.v.o.o” (from website) and could have been the full meal if we came an hour later. For a breakfast/brunch/lunch date, this is the place. You want to sip their scrumptious espresso and fragrant, rich chai over the colorful food and chat forever in these walls. And guess what? The Guggenheim Museum is right next door, which is exactly where we went after this meal. How perfect is that?

2. DOUGH!

So my mom loves donuts. As in donuts are worth twenty minutes to find parking for, legit anger if they are sold out, real old school donut appreciation level of love. This is something I love deeply about her and why I can always count on a “yes” upon a donut excursion request, and while in NYC it’s a m u s t to go to Dough. These big ole fluffy fuckers are too good to skip, and given there’s plenty of flashy, over-the-top donuts to be found on Instagram I can’t praise Dough enough. These are bigger than your hand but weigh less than a baby bunny, and the flavors do nothing but enhance the sweet, airy dough you can watch being hand-fried in the back baking room through a glass wall. My favorite one to date is the Blood Orange donut coated in the prettiest pink glaze and donning a dried orange slice, and it’s tangy and flavorful and citrusy without being sickeningly sweet.

The other front runners are the chocolate-hazelnut and the lemon poppyseed which tastes like a much less buttery version of lemon poppyseed pound cake and instead would make a lovely breakfast pastry. While Dough is small and there isn’t much open seating since it’s ~always~ full of people eating a donut with fork and knife, my family grouped up by the window and shared donuts with chocolaty fingers and smiles galore. Can’t frown when you’re eating a donut unless you’re a miserable person!

There she is, the Blood Orange baddie calling my name. I’ll be back, my sweet.

3. TOBY’S ESTATE COFFEE

What’s a family vacation in my family without copious coffee??? Seeing as donuts and 3 p.m. always call for caffeine, we wandered around the Flatiron District where Dough is located and found this little coffee shop that’s Brooklyn originated and very very cute. They take coffee seriously so don’t expect grande sizes, but do expect major taste. Bonus? It’s attached to a boutique bookstore so you can sip and shop (but do NOT SPILL). I got a mocha and it was rich, delicious, and also very expensive. That’s what good espresso (cough cough not Starbucks) will cost you.

4. DŌ, Cookie Dough Confections

That’s right, another “dough”! There’s a theme here of trendy sweet treats and this one certainly takes the... dough. Made famous through social media and the 2017 “need” for colorful and unique foodie experiences, DŌ offers a variety of cookie dough flavors all entirely safe to eat either in a cup or a cone quite like an ice cream store! I turned 22 during our trip and this was my pick for birthday breakfast because what adult doesn’t want to turn 22 while eating a scoop of oatmeal and M&M cookie dough that comes in a PINK CONE?!?!? I may be getting old and gross, but my stomach is still a dessert-driven child. I literally only eat my vegetables so we can get to the real stuff.

We came at a great time- given the fact it’s such a destination spot there can be up to a 2+ hour wait (!!!) so we got there bright n’ early at 10 a.m. and there were enough people to feel cool but not too many people that I was like weneedtoleaverightnowfuckthedough. Mom got the chocolate chip dough on a chocolate chip cone, Elise got the plain ole sugar cookie, and my dad nibbled on a little of it all which was impressive since his sweet tooth is nonexistent. I guess when you don’t have a birthday cake there are no candles, right? NAH. THIS PLACE HAS IT ALL. We got some candles and stuck em right in there.

And the fact we had leftovers to eat during intermission at “Kinky Boots” on Broadway that night when we were taking a break from salivating over Brendan Urie? PERFECTO. Brendan and DŌ. A winning combo and making me feel real good about 22 so far.

5. SANCTUARY T!

HA as if the birthday eating ended there. I planned weeks and weeks ahead to have dinner at Sanctuary T on my birthday, as it’s one of my absolute favorite restaurants in the world, and my mom dragged her heels for a while asking if I was “entirely sure I did not want to try somewhere NEW and FRESH” and I stayed strong because Sanc T is my bliss. She regretted that resistance when we sat down in the fucking cute Free People photoshoot setting of this place and got a rose on happy hour, and when the food was brought to the table I pondered how is this place not on every foodie list because it’s all just so GOOD. The truffle-Caesar kale salad is incredible, as the kale is crunchy and earthy which plays off the strong smooth linger of the truffle dressing, and the fish tacos are fried to perfection and topped with pickled root veggies. The fries (also on happy hour!) come with -surprise- truffle aioli, and they are the best fries in NYC. I’m just going to go ahead and make that claim. The burrata was thick but silky and on homemade bread with some olive oil it was straight s-e-x. Slippery and salty and best with an alcoholic drink in arm’s reach.

There’s nothing bad on this menu. Nothing. So go H A M and eat it allllllll up. It’s in SoHo so it’s a great area to walk around before or after dinner, with amazing classic New York architecture and picturesque streets. Make sure to hit up the Brandy Melville nearby and scoot over to MarieBelle for after-dinner hot chocolate and sweets.

That will do it for part one of “Natalie Eats NYC”, part two will be up in a couple days!!! While I can write forever, I don’t think y’all want to read forever. So I’ve chunked it up.

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie

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mercerislandbooks · 6 years ago

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What Serves the Story: Discussing Imagination, Research, and Seattleness with Elise Hooper

Elise Hooper is coming to celebrate the release of Learning to See: A Novel of Dorothea Lange, the Woman who Revealed the Real America on January 22nd at noon. She will be signing copies of her two books as well as passing out some Dorothea Lange postcards. Read below to look at my interview with her about her writing process and newest release!

- Kelleen

Last Saturday was gorgeous, sunny, and temperate. Elise even commented later that she told the baristas, “I am going to go to the back of the shop because I am sort of blinded by this light.” I felt the same.

I arrived in a flurry, thinking I would be 15 minutes early, but she beat me there. Elise was writing in a vibrant blue notebook that she closed as I approached. I introduced myself in person (we had only talked over email). She commented that she thought she was early enough to get some writing done, which made me eye that notebook again. Learning to See is only a week from release, so it had to be something new. My first question came to me naturally…

IB: Can you talk about what you are working on right now?

EH: Sure, the new book I’m working on was sold to the same editor at William Morrow, its working title is “Fast Girls,” and it’s supposed to come out in the summer of 2020. It is about three pioneering women Olympians who are among some of the first women competing at track and field in the Olympics. Basically they all have these very interesting and different life stories which all come together at the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin. It’s funny, when I tell people, they say, “I didn’t know women were there!” and I say, “Exactly.”

IB: So, you were born an East Coaster. How do you find the Seattle community in terms of readership?

EH: That’s an interesting question because I have only lived in Seattle as a writer, I haven’t come from another city with that career to compare. But, I do think that we are so lucky that we live in such a bookish place both in terms of readers and other writers. I have been delighted to build up a peer group of other writers I can chat with. Reading is alive and well here! People have come out of the woodwork to support my book. I do feel like there is a collective interest in reading and books, which is also remarkable due to that fact that Amazon is here. I would say the little novel is alive and well.

IB: You definitely consider yourself a novel writer, even with the hefts of research?

EH: I am totally a novelist. I use real people as inspiration, but I usually work with people where there is a little bit of mystery to their life. May Alcott—there was a ton of open space in which I could create her story. Louisa was an avid journalist and letter writer; her life was very well documented. From there, I could cobble together a maze through her other friends. Dorothea Lange’s life is documented very well visually, but she pretty much burned all of her letters. There is a PBS documentary about her, so that is the best way to hear her voice these days. Even with all the biographies out there on Lange, there was still some empty space that I felt like I could richly imagine her life.

IB: How do you balance research vs. imagination?

EH: That’s such a good question because that is something I grapple with every time I sit down to write. I love doing research, and I love that pretty much everyday I get to learn tons of new stuff about any given topic, but I really work hard to keep my eye on what serves the story. Research is like a big iceberg and in the book you should only see the tip of it. The author holds the rest. Your reader shouldn’t feel like they are reading an encyclopedia. They should be caught up in the action and the characters. I really work hard on trying not to let some of these finds consume me. These things are fascinating to me but may not be to the rest of the world.

IB: What is your favorite part of this writing process? Do you like your rabbit holes? Do you like the writing best?

EH: I love writing that first draft. That bad, lousy first draft that is basically just getting down the basic story. I love that because that is when you see how this whole story is going to come together and you see them. There is nothing quite like sitting down and figuring out how someone is going to approach a meal, for example. It can reveal a lot about characters. There is really a heady excitement about writing that first draft.

IB: What are you looking forward to with the release of Learning to See?

EH: I am really looking forward to reconnecting with friends and family, both here in the Puget Sound and also beyond! It’s really fun. I love doing some of these stops where I get to visit the library from the town I grew up in and see people I haven’t seen in a long time. A gift that has truly come from this whole process is that I have heard from people that I haven’t heard from in decades. I always try to send back the most grateful messages because someone took the time to read the book and the follow up with a message. That blows me away, and I cherish those so much.

IB: That’s some of our favorite parts too. Being able to see authors come into the store like Laurie Frankel and Garth Stein is so great because when they come in, they become part of our community more than the book on the shelf. Readers appreciate that too; they are drawn to the people that take the time to visit the shop. There is something magical about the idea that someone has been here and also is writing in an area nearby them.

EH: It’s funny, I have had a lot of people say to me that they were reading along in the book and had a moment where they thought, “Oh my gosh, Elise wrote this!” That sounds funny, but I totally know what they mean. The magic of seeing my book on the shelf has not gone away. I am still thrilled every time I see it.

IB: What attracted you to Dorothea Lange as your next subject?

EH: Oh, okay…this is kind of a fun story. When I think about what I am going to say at these events, this is where I am starting. I had thought that I needed to do a more local project. So, initially I was interested in Imogen Cunningham. I was an art minor in college; I was sort of familiar with her photography. I think she even had a studio at one point right around here in Pioneer Square. So, there I went diving into her life. As part of that, I was figuring out her social circles and influences. It turns out, over time, her best friend became Dorothea Lange. I was really familiar with Lange’s work, but as I really started learning about her—the woman behind these photos—I was struck by this huge transformation that Dorothea went through that was different from many of her peers.

EH: She started off as this hugely successful portrait photographer and then had this total turn-around to the world at large. She started documenting life during the Great Depression with social activism inspiring her work. I was really intrigued by that. It has honestly become more and more relevant. The book sold to my editor just after the last Presidential Election, and it has become even more frighteningly relevant. During the Women’s March in 2017, all these women were finding their voices and probably marching for the first time. That was so similar to Dorothea. She eclipsed Imogen in my mind because of her interest in social activism.

EH: I liked the pragmatism in her work but her idealism too. I liked that she was interesting in more than just the art of capturing people; she wanted a real story. I could totally relate to that.

Learn more about Elise and her new book next Tuesday! Come in and say hello.

#elise hooper #learning to see #the other alcott #louisa may alcott #seattle #local author #island books #kelleen #dorothea lange #imogen cunningham #photography #social activism #great depression #historical fiction #writing process #research

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olympiansrpg1-blog · 8 years ago

Photo

BASICS

Name: Frederick “Freddie” Mishra Age: 24 Affiliation: Old Olympus Occupation: Spy/Informant Faceclaim: Avan Jogia Status: TAKEN by Elise

THE STORY

They call you Caerus. You have always been the charismatic sort, warm in nature and soothing to all. Luck seems to follow you everywhere you go, surprising even you. You have always been the interesting sort, a casual lie can slip from your lips at any given moment and those around you would believe you without a doubt. You are a smooth talker, a voice like honey and the promise of something more, allowing you to worm your way out of any situation. Perhaps that is why they saw promise in you, the allure of something more than scheming your way through the streets drawing you in. They taught you how to be of value to the other side, to extort people through any means in order to gain power and money, even Zeus spread rumors of your reputation in the city. It has been months since you’ve infiltrated New Olympus and you’re beginning to feel the pressure on both sides, tiptoeing across lines so often that you are unsure how you are supposed to keep up anymore.

CONNECTIONS

ZEUS - You suppose you have them to thank for everything: plucking you out of your one bedroom apartment in crime and drug infested streets, giving you a better purpose than the one you had, and a lavish new life. You’ve never hesitated in showing your appreciation, volunteering any and all information that you have on New Olympus. However, you’re beginning to doubt them and their ability, it seems you’re one of the few who can see the cracks forming around them.

DIONYSUS - Any attentive eye can see that Dionysus and Hades are rather close knit, you took this as a sign to weasel your way into their lives. However, the more you got to know them and their quirks, the more you began to toy with the idea of simply coming clean as you struggle with the morality of the situation. As much as you enjoy their company, at the end of the day, you owe Old Olympus.

HERMES - Ever since you saw that glint of longing in their eyes, you are not entirely certain how you feel about them anymore. The way they looked at you was different from everyone else, unnerving in a way that you are not used to. What was once an easy friendship has developed into you trying your best to skirt your way around them. There’s something more there, you know this, but you are not sure if you are willing to explore it.

SUGGESTED FACECLAIMS

Kofi Siriboe, Dev Patel, Alfie Enoch, Shay Mitchell, Eiza González

BIOGRAPHY

Freddie’s life was always in motion, ever since the day that he was born. His parents were petty criminals; con artists who moved around whenever their next big scheme failed. Freddie was born in sunny Los Angeles, California, where his family would remain until he was four years old. He was a smiley boy, his parents used to tell him, even when he was a baby—charming from the day he was born. Once he was able to speak in full sentences, his family packed their things (for him, this would be the first of many, many times packing his belongings into a small bag, just what he still needed) and moved on to the next city.

From that point on, Freddie’s childhood was a whirlwind. They moved all around the country, never staying in more than one city for two or three years––Phoenix, Salt Lake City, Denver, Dallas, Minneapolis and Chicago. His parents quickly taught him the art of the con; how to be able to tell a lie as easily as getting dressed in the morning, how to smile and get people to trust you, how to slide your hang into a pocket and come back out with a wallet. They included him in their tricks, especially when he was younger, pretending that he was a child with some sort of disease that needed money or some kid who had success in entertainment. He didn’t understand his role, and he didn’t need to—that’s what made it all the more believable. Once he got older, the cons only got more complicated, stepping up to pyramid schemes he would get his classmates to participate in, pretending to be a fortune teller or keeping watch as his parents scammed patrons in bars with card tricks or hustled at pool. He was learning the family business, his father used to joke, as he counted the bills in his hand after a successful night.

His father was the big orchestrator, an expert in deceit and petty crime. Freddie loved him, of course, as any son would, but he always felt more like a teacher or a boss than a father (The best way to tell a lie is to tell the truth, was a saying he ground into Freddie for years). Ultimately, it seemed clear that the money came first. That realization stung, but he grew to accept it. His mother, on the other hand, was much warmer. Where his father taught him how to deceive, his mother taught him how to love (or how to pretend to, anyways). She was the one who would hug him tightly when he had a nightmare, stroking his hair and telling him stories until he was fast asleep again. She was the one who helped him think of new names whenever they moved and the one who played music in the car as they drove towards their new life, glancing back to Freddie in the backseat as they sang along to Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

Because of all of the moving around, Freddie quickly learned to be independent. Once he got older and less useful to the cons, his parents would leave him alone for days at a time. He learned to keep his head down in most places, to not bring attention to himself so that it would be less of a deal when he would leave. Still, he honed his craft. He was never the best student, but he learned that charming teachers and becoming friendly with others would get him as far as he needed to. But he didn’t get involved in sports or clubs, and in the end he would just be another faceless student at another public school in another city. Sure, he made friends along the way, especially when he was a little kid, but contact eventually faded between them. He learned not to mind. He was happy with what he had—lucky, in fact, to be able to get through life as easily as he did. Not many kids could say they had been all over the country before they turned eighteen.

The last city he travelled to with his parents was Washington D.C. when he was eighteen. He did end up graduating, despite years of credit transfers, but had no interest in pursuing higher education. He didn’t see the point in it all, especially when he was able to finagle his way in or out of any situation as he pleased. When his parents decided to move on, he decided to stay, finding himself a cheap apartment (well, cheap after he had a long conversation with the super of the building––) and a job as a waiter. He made good money, enough to live off of, especially with tips, but there was one big problem: he was bored. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten addicted to the moving and the cons, the thrill that came with telling a lie and the satisfaction that came when someone believed it. He started working as a petty thief at first, snatching wallets or hustling in bars. He got in trouble, sometimes, on purpose, starting fights or nearly getting arrested just for the thrill of being able to walk home free without having to lift a finger. Soon enough, it was time to go, and he continued on to Philadelphia, and started all over again.

Just before his twenty-third birthday, Freddie got a call from his mother; apparently, his father had been caught in a cyber-extortion scheme in Detroit, and was facing twenty years in prison. His mother hadn’t been involved, but she didn’t want to risk them tracing anything back to their old cons—and, inevitably, back to her and Freddie. She’d left Detroit as soon as possible and was trying to get a normal job; she suggested Freddie did the same. It’s time to stop running, she told him, and have a life. I’m sorry we didn’t give you one when you were younger.

His father’s imprisonment lifted a sort of veil of Freddie’s worldview. He no longer felt invincible. If his father could be caught, why couldn’t he? He’d already been planning a move up to New York City, but instead of making up a new pseudonym, he used his real name. He started getting together real documentation, bought himself one of the cheapest apartments he could find, and did exactly what his mother told him to do; he started a real life. But just like it had before, Freddie grew restless. He started getting himself into trouble again.

One night, his antics lead him to Mount Olympus. He talked his way into an after-party of some sort, a glitzy event with free champagne and enough security to give Freddie a thrill. He slipped up, though, saying the wrong thing to the wrong member of the New York City elite, and found himself in front of the owner of the hotel itself. He thought that was going to be it, and he would years behind bars. To say he was surprised when he was offered a job was an understatement. He knew he was a good liar and had some skills with misdirection and charm, but this was something on a whole other level. Maybe it was like feeding an addiction, but the opportunity seemed too perfect to give up; he would be able to live like he wanted to (needed to, more like––) and make money from it. He accepted graciously, and soon enough moved out of his flea-ridden apartment into something much nicer, bought himself new clothes and got himself a better phone.

It took him a few months before the Old Olympians actually let him do anything, much to his disappointment. He needed to learn everything there was to know about the New Olympians first, because if he slipped up, it could mean death—or worse. So, he played along, learning a long list of Greek names (that seemed to be both gangs’ deals, which he thought was a little silly), and learning which were important and which weren’t. Finally, it was time for him to infiltrate New Olympus. They finally gave him his own name—Caerus, god of luck. It seemed fitting. Soon, rumors began to circulate about a new interrogator for the Old Olympians, someone capable of getting you to spill your secrets without even touching you. He was made out to be a terrifying figure, so new would ever suspect it was Freddie.

The best way to tell a lie was to tell the truth. He’d already been using his real name in New York City, so he stuck to that. He started going to Club Nyra at least a couple times a week, becoming friendly with other regulars and the people who worked there. He started reporting back everything that he heard, but he knew that he needed more. He owed Zeus more, for everything they’d done for him. Finally, he got his big break—a bartending job at Club Nyra. To the New Olympians, he simply kept an eye on their clientele, occasionally getting information from certain guests, and kept the drinks coming. To the Old Olympians, he was a link to the New Olympians, the foot in the door that would allow the secrets to begin pouring out for them to use. The more he was at the bar, the more he got to know members of the rival gang, and the more information he got. It was perfect.

Freddie never anticipated that once he’d gotten to know the New Olympians, he’d eventually…care about them. He’d always been independent, had always worked alone, but his cover started to feel like more. He’d gotten close with some of the Old Olympians, but he was treated as more of an asset, only spending time with a few members of the gang before he was sent out to New Olympus. That was the safest way. With the New Olympians, he felt more like a part of the team. He gave up all the information that he had to Zeus and their crew, but now it was with a small twinge of guilt.

Now, Freddie is trying to deal with his conflicting loyalties as best he can. There are days he wants to come clean, to just tell someone, anyone (well, not really anyone) the truth. But the rational part of him knew that that would mean death. What’s more, Freddie was beginning to have his doubts in Old Olympus itself. He was taught to notice the details—it was what he did best—and he was beginning to see the weaknesses in Zeus’s armor, the chinks that may lead to…well, who knows?

His instincts were telling him to get out, to run away like he always did. Instead, something was keeping him there. Whether it was loyalty to Zeus or to his newfound friends (?), he wasn’t sure, but he knew he would have to make a decision soon. The threat from the Titans was looming over the horizon, and with that meant picking a side. It was only a matter of time.

#caerus #lsrpg #lsrp #skeleton rp #gang rp #old #all #taken

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