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thefirsttree · 3 years ago

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A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind… I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

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kuiperblog · 3 years ago

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The first 1% is always the hardest

Usually, the hardest part of acquiring a new skill is starting it for the first time.

When you’re at an intermediate level of progression, you can usually just increase your skill level by incrementing up the difficulty linearly. If you’re a novice weightlifter and your best overhead press is 125 lbs, try adding 5 lbs to the bar and see if you can overhead press 130 lbs. (If not, keep lifting 125 lbs every few days until that becomes “easy,” then challenge yourself with 130 lbs again.) If you can do 10 push-ups, you will probably reach the point where you can do 11 push-ups, and 12 push-ups, and 15 push-ups, and 25 push-ups, and so on. The hardest part of lifting is day 1, when you might be performing certain motions for the first time in your life, and challenging your body to work muscles that you didn’t even realize existed.

I imagine the same is true of other fitness regimens: once you’re able to run a 9 minute mile, you probably have what it takes to run a 8:30 mile, or a 8 minute mile, if you keep at it. Eventually you’ll hit a plateau and the limits of human performance, but the first day in the gym is always the hardest.

This is sort of how the trajectory of my writing career went. And having talked to artist friends, and musicians, it seems like all of them followed a similar trend: they found a thing, they stuck with it, and over time found themselves advancing along that path bit by bit. It became a hobby or a routine such that over time, by by investing a bit more time, or a bit more effort, or challenging themselves a tiny bit more, they got better at it. And over years, the compounding returns of that meant that the girl who got a drawing tablet at age 14 found that by the time she was 22 years old, she had enough artistic skill to make enough money from her art to make a living.

I think that in a lot of cases, people were able to start down that path of gradual self-improvement in part because they were able to somehow bypass the hardest part of it -- they blazed right through the initial difficulty without even realizing it. They couldn’t even really answer the question of “When did you start drawing,” because they’ve always been drawing since the days that they were just doodling with pencil in paper at school. Maybe they just really enjoyed playing outdoors as a kid, and played soccer because it was fun, and made the seamless transition to being a high school athlete. In my case, I spent a lot of time writing long-winded forum posts explaining the finer points of topics I was passionate about (which, at age 13, was mostly Pokemon and Final Fantasy), and somehow by my 20′s I had enough of a penchant for explaining things that I was able to parley that into a writing career (so I can get paid for my long-winded explanations of Pokemon-related topics).

The early days of learning to write kind of sucked and were difficult. (For starters, remember how unintuitive that QWERTY keyboard was the first time that you learned to type? Remember how painful it was to hunt-and-peck your way through sentences at an effective rate of <10 words per minute?) But my desire to talk about Pokemon on message boards overwhelmed any difficulty or “suckiness” involved with learning to express my ideas through text, and so the suckiness of those early days wasn’t really much of an obstacle.

More and more, I’ve come to believe that the most important part of learning a new skill is finding a way to get over that initial difficulty hump -- of finding a way to survive the first day, and then the first week, and then the first month, and eventually reach a point where inertia carries you forward on a gradual upward slope of self-improvement where you’re not even consciously thinking too hard about improvement; you just randomly muse to yourself one day, “Oh yeah, this barbell I’m picking up weighs about 100 lbs more than the barbell I was lifting a year ago. Fancy that.” The longer you keep at it, the easier it is to stick with it.

In many corners of the internet, there’s an oft-repeated adage that “Watching anime won’t teach you to speak or understand Japanese.” And sure, that’s obviously true on some level. If someone is thinking they’re going to spend a thousand hours watching subtitled anime, and then one day flip off the subtitles and be able to follow everything without missing a beat, they’re probably a bit delusional. If you want to actually achieve anything approaching Japanese fluency, you’re probably going to have to take a Japanese learning course, and engaged in spaced repetition to pick up and retain vocabulary, and all of the other stuff that goes into learning any language.

But I think that watching anime does provide you with one big advantage: it goes a long way toward helping you cross that “day 1″ hump. Because the first day is always the hardest. Going from 0 to 1 is harder than increasing your vocabulary by a few new words every week. Before you can get the compounding returns from incrementally improving at a skill, you have to have a starting principle. And I think that watching anime is actually quite good for that, because only knowing “weeaboo Japanese” will give you 20-30% of the vocabulary that’s included in your first couple Japanese lessons.

I’m speaking from personal experience: it’s incredibly heartening to go through a lesson and encounter words that I’m already familiar with. Even if my fluency in “weeaboo Japanese” only covers 10% of what’s introduced in a given lesson, having a head start gives me an intangible confidence boost which makes it easier for me to focus on and retain the other 90%.

I don’t want to understate the importance of that intangible confidence boost: a lot of language acquisition is getting comfortable with a language, and repeating something so much that you do it without even thinking about it. For example, in English, sometimes sometimes someone might ask you “how’s it going?” and you might answer “fine” before your brain has even consciously registered the meaning of what you were hearing, or saying. And I’m enough of a weeb that I can hear i tenki desu ne and immediately reflexively respond with sou desu ne, before my brain has even consciously registered the question being asked (sometimes taking several seconds to mentally backtrack and realize, “Oh right, the “i tenki” part means “nice weather.”). But years and years of listening and pattern recognition have taught me that when someone ends a sentence in desu ne? with the sort of inflection that says “I’m asking you a rhetorical question,” the proper response is probably sou desu ne, and my brain produces that response just as reflexively as it spits out “I’m doing fine, how about you?” any time someone asks “How’s it going?”)

One thing I’ve come to notice is that every lesson begins with some of some amount of review, giving you that spaced repetition, and providing context for the new words and concepts that the lesson is about to introduce, and generally provide a foundation for the new material. Day 1 is, by necessity, the exception -- how can you “review” material that you’ve never covered before? But for me, the day 1 lessons on how to say nihongo and arigato and watashi and anata were already “review” of topics that I picked up through years of being a weeb.

Besides that, there’s the fact that the structural elements of Japanese are something that my brain was naturally able to grok in a way that is intuitive to me after spending years listening to spoken Japanese even though most of it is contextual. (Like, I’m not sure when this happened, but at a certain point I think my brain just kind of learned, when listening to Japanese sentences, to approximate which parts were the verb and where certain clauses landed in the sentence, if only because when watching anime with subtitles you become consciously aware of when a character’s name appears in the dialog.) I’m not really consciously thinking about it, which kind of feels like the “natural” way to learn a language. (After all, it’s not as if native English speakers, as toddlers, consciously think to themselves, “Ah, it seems as though English typically follows a subject-verb-object grammar structure.” Kids just listen to adults speaking English and form sentences that way without really having to be formally taught.)

It’s highly likely that at some point in my internet career that I have at one point been the cynical message board poster telling someone that, contrary to their fantasies, watching anime isn’t going to help them learn Japanese in any real or material way, and if I’ve ever suggested that, it’s time for me to eat crow. Because while the advantage that “weeaboo-level Japanese” gives you might be small, and only help you on the first few days of Japanese class, those are the most important days, because the first 1% is always the hardest.

My familiarity with “weeaboo-level Japanese” has only given me one disadvantage, and that is that years of memes have poisoned my brain to the point where the first I was prompted with “say ‘excuse me’ in Japanese,” my brain (and mouth) immediately spat out “sorrymasen,” and I wish I could say it only happened once, but it wasn’t until around day 3 that I managed to fully train this habit out of myself.

#japanese vocabulary #learning japanese #japanese

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lluvguts · 3 years ago

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Cool Blue ; Chapter One

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

through sunsets we wander

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

☽ warnings: none

☽ fic masterlist

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

By the time Alberto had rowed out into the furthest stretch of waters toward that quaint little island he'd been eyeing for months, it was already nearing dinnertime. He promised his foster father, Massimo, and younger sister, Giulia, he would return to the Marcovaldo home with a lovely new piece for their kitchen or else Massimo's hearty dish of alfredo wouldn't be served to him.

Alberto had grinned at the promise. He knew that even if he came home with a stick figure drawing of himself, sitting cheekily on a beach someplace, they'd hang it on the icebox and love it regardless.

He'd done a few paintings of the sunset from their home, sure, but it was the beautiful curve of greenery this approaching island offered that Alberto just couldn't refuse. There hung something familiar in it's many trees and overgrown bushes somehow, but Alberto just wasn't able to place it. As he neared he hurried to moor the boat by the section of the island mostly taken up by dark, porous shore rocks. He chanced to teeter at the bow before jumping onto the closest boulder, its surface nicking his heels in a few spots but he didn't mind. He hated to wear shoes ever since he was a child, and Massimo had even claimed when he'd discovered Alberto as a wide-eyed toddler, he was absolutely shoe-free. The ground was damp with the constant ebb and flow of the ocean, and for the heat seeping into Alberto's toes from the sparkling sun-kissed sand, he felt oddly at home.

Alberto glanced at the sun, hardly able to resist reaching out a hand to remark on the beauty of it. He spun back to fetch his bag of paint supplies, clutching the case to his broad chest so as not to let anything plop into the ocean. From where he was standing, precariously but full of glee on the rocky shoreline, there was a small alcove just beyond Alberto's line of sight. There were a few times he'd wished he'd brought at least a pair of sandals--or perhaps he could use his work smock and tie it around his heels--as he walked down the beach, because the ground was steadily rising in temperature as the sun baked the sand, but he tried not to complain much when there was so much to marvel around him.

He set his bag down on the ground by a rocky pool, which Alberto promptly sat beside and rolled his pantlegs up so he could dangle his ankles in the warm water. From where he sat, he was given a perfect view of the sun, creeping closer and closer to the horizon, so Alberto pulled out his pad of paper and a few pencils just to sketch for a while. He shaded the trees around him, drew each jagged rock, and perfected the way the sun kissed the ocean and left sparkling trails down the horizon. He could draw today, just to soak up the scenery and get his concepts down, then bring out the paints tomorrow. Massimo would probably joke and ruffle his already messed up head of curls once he got back, with smudged fingers and no canvas, but say all was fine. As he worked he hummed to himself, a song from some old record Giulia played on their gramophone (or, as a younger Alberto favored calling it, the magic-singing-lady-machine) after dinner and the kids were cleaning up. Still focused on the page, steadily filling, Alberto reached out a hand and groped around in his bag for an eraser without looking. When he didn't find one, he grumbled a bit and pulled his hand back, only to realize he'd shook loose a few sticks of charcoal and a paintbrush that rolled across the ground and fell, soundlessly, into the pool. The brush floated along the surface but the rest slipped below the surface.

"Merda!" Alberto hissed, trying to grapple one of the charcoals with his toes but it only sank further into the murky blue below. He shut his eyes and opened them again, more than willing to dive down there and retrieve those precious charcoal sticks. They cost him quite a few allowances and extra shifts at the Pescheria.

But then something happened that made Alberto leap from his spot and hold his dripping knees closer to his chest.

One stick of charcoal was flung from the pool and landed on the grass a few feet from Alberto's bag, soaking the ground in black. Then came up another, this time closer to Alberto. He flinched at the torrent of gravity-defying art supplies, allowing himself to inch closer to the mouth of the pool, reflecting his green eyes wide, breath held, waiting. Another reflection flashed across the pool's surface, something vibrant that made Alberto look up. But there were no trees or even a bird to cast the reflection.

Alberto let his head fall. And, blinking back at him, with the paintbrush that had been bobbing balanced on its nose, was what looked like a fish. But fish didn't have huge yellow eyes that made Alberto think of his cat at home, Machi, but not in an endearing way. Fish weren't that smart. Alberto had seen sea turtles and dolphins many times before, and they were intelligent, sure, but nothing compared to the humanlike stare this creature had fixed on him now. It stuck it's face out of the water, wincing at the harsh sunlight making its scales shine a deep teal. When its big yellow eyes trained back on Alberto, he saw the creatures features darken from underneath the water line.

"I think you dropped this," It whispered, in such a soft and shy way it made Alberto take in a ragged breath. Okay, fish definitely didn't do that. Was this thing...actually talking to him? The creature stuck its webbed fingers from the pool and took the paintbrush, staring at it for a moment before handing it out to a speechless Alberto.

"Woah! Uh...H-Hello?" Alberto breathed, gingerly taking back the brush.

The not-fish waved, only a slight shake of its hand above the surface of the water, and Alberto noticed the thin claws on the ends of its fingers.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," It whispered again. Alberto watched the stream of bubbles that floated along the pool's surface as it talked. He still had no idea what he was conversing with, the creature seeming less and less like a fish and more as something from his imagination. It waded in the small pool, he noticed, forearms paddling softly without stirring the water. Its movements so effortless it left Alberto in awe. And if he gazed into the deeper parts of the water, he swore he saw a tail lazily lapping behind the creature.

"I...uh, I could only imagine why," Alberto squeaked. The paintbrush was still in his hands but he was now gripping it so tight his tan skin was turning white at the knuckles.

The creature stifled a giggle by placing one clawed hand to its mouth, but even still Alberto caught a glimpse of its sharp teeth. If he hadn't run away now, that was a pretty good red flag to be packing his things and high-tailing home--but he didn't. He wasn't exactly afraid of this thing staring back at him. Just a bit baffled by it, he was dying to look closer but the more Alberto craned his neck down into the pool to see, the creature shied back into the depths.

"What are you?" Alberto asked aloud, more to himself but still he knew the thing heard him. "Sorry! Was that rude? I'm not trying to be mean, but you aren't exactly the type of seal we'd see in Portorosso."

The creature's cheeks turned a darker blue, and it glared at Alberto. "I am not a seal." It hissed, its tiny lip pulled back to reveal that set of sharp teeth again.

"I get it! I get it! I said I was sorry! I'm just trying to figure this all out," Alberto scratched his head, looking back at his sketchbook for a moment.

"I don't even look anything like a seal!" It was still stuck on the stupid seal comment, with its blue eyebrows furrowed and eyes dark. The more Alberto heard the creature talk he realized, with a flush of embarrassment or something else, that it was a boy. Not a thing. Not an it.

"Okay, so you're not a seal. We've established this." Alberto was gathering his sketchbook and supplies to put back in the bag. The paintbrush was resting at the mouth of the pool. "Are you some type of...seahorse? Or an overgrown fish?"

The boy spit out a stream of water into Alberto's face.

"I'm a monster," He said promptly, his voice on the edge of staying shy or holding a grudge for the seal comment. "So...you should be afraid of me."

Alberto let out a laugh. This cute little thing? "Sure, sure. That makes much more sense." He stuck out his hand at the boy. "Well, nice to meet you, sea monster...Or, uh, whatever you are. I'm Alberto Marcovaldo."

"Alberto..." The boy repeated in a hushed voice, looking down at the water now as he said it. He flinched backward at Alberto's hand, looking up at his fingers with burning yellow eyes. Without knowing much of what to do, the boy kicked his legs until he was treading the water, letting the top of his head graze Alberto's open palm. The small fins around the crown of his head brushed Alberto's hand, smooth and slippery like seaweed. Alberto decided he was quite pleased with the weird texture of it.

The boy closed his eyes and let out a small noise, the side of his face now pressed to Alberto's hand. He had a fin on his cheek that neared his fingertips, and when Alberto touched it the boy trilled, almost in greeting.

"Oh, uh, are you ok? I think you're supposed to shake my hand." Alberto stated. He found his face felt uncomfortably hot watching the weird gesture the boy had just made, and even more so at the soft noises rumbling in his throat.

For a moment the creature considered extending his hand and taking Alberto's outstretched fingers, but stopped with a low growl, blushing blue.

"I'm--ugh! I'm not even supposed to be out here!" He wailed. "If they find me out here with, with a land monster? My mom's gonna kill me! I've uh, I've got to go, so um..." The boy looked at Alberto's paintbrush sitting within his reach and took it.

"Goodbye."

He ducked back under the water. In a second his head of blue fins dashed back up.

"Forever."

Land monster? Alberto could laugh. He'd never heard that one before. But he scanned the mess before him, the slimy puddle of water next to his leg that the boy had left when he took (stole) his paintbrush, the droplets scattered along his sketchbook, all blazing in angry red as the sun finished its journey along the sky.

Alberto scrambled up from his spot, mentally slapping himself. He had a hard time rowing the boat this far out while it was daytime, it was sure going to be hell finding his way home in the near darkness. As he stumbled along the shore and dropped his things into the boat, he wondered if he had the right paint colors for the boy's eyes.

Wait, he hadn't even gotten his name! Do sea monster-things have names? Like humans do? Oh, what did it matter? The boy said he could never come back to the island again. Their awkward five minute interaction was all they had. But Alberto was still stewing it all over as he made his way back to Portorosso, now relying on the oil lamp beside him and the glowing stars above.

/ / /

"Figlio, you're late."

Alberto rushed to hang up his bag and wash his hands. Giulia seemed to have been stuck with doing Alberto's dinner chores in his absence, setting the table and pouring waters. When he passed her she stuck her tongue out at him and smashed his offending pinky toe with her sandal.

"Ouch!" Alberto steeled his eyes at her from across the table, but she only grinned devilishly. Massimo was still expecting some sort of apology for almost missing dinner so he cleared his throat and pulled back the chair for his father to sit. "Sorry, Papa. The place where I set up my paints was pretty far, and I got carried away and lost track of time."

"Blech, Alberto, you stupido, at least change your clothes...you reek like fish..." Giulia sneered as Massimo handed them their plates.

"Hush, Giulia." Signor Marcovaldo gave her a small pat on her shoulder then turned to Alberto. All concern lost, he asked. "Where did you go to paint?"

"The island...?" Alberto chanced a look across his water glass to see their equal expression of shock and horror.

"The island?" Giulia shrieked. She let her fork fall and alfredo sauce splattered on the table cloth. "Fratello, that place is swarming with monstro marino!"

"Sea monsters, really Giulia?" Alberto tried to sound calm, but his heart rate picked up. "There's no such thing."

"Actually, Alberto, there is." Massimo pointed to the newspaper clippings decorating one kitchen wall, still frames of what appeared to be creatures with glistening teeth and bloodied scales.

"But Papa, those papers are fake! You said so yourself! Ercole's father only made those to scare people." Alberto argued.

"They are a menace to this town." Massimo stared into his plate of pasta. "My only hope is that you never get to see so yourself. They are killers."

Well, the one I met today didn't seem like a bloodthirsty monster, Alberto wanted to spit back, but held his tongue.

"Did you at least get to draw anything?" Giulia asked. Alberto sighed, glad they let the subject on sea monsters drop for the time being.

"Y-Yeah! I actually did," He boasted, rising from the table to fetch his bag. He undid the latch and took out his sketchbook, walking while flipping the latest page open for Giulia and Massimo to see.

Giulia's eyes widened and she barked out a laugh. Massimo smiled faintly, giving Alberto a solitary thumbs up.

"What? What are you laughing about?" Alberto turned the paper around and gasped. The entire page was warped and still damp, the lovely pencil drawings now only faint grey smears along the paper.

"That's-That's not funny!" Alberto growled at Giulia, who was wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "It was the boat! A wave must have hit the side, or something!"

"Oh, yeah, Alberto. Blame the boat," Giulia giggled.

Alberto huffed and slumped back into his seat. That sea monster.

Machiavelli sashayed into the kitchen, smelling the dinner on the table or perhaps the laughter lightening the air. He curled up next to Alberto's leg on the ground, rubbing his cheek and whiskers along his bare ankle, purring for a taste of the alfredo sauce.

"No, Machi. You can't eat human food." Alberto chastened him, nudging his face away from the table leg. Giulia laughed harder.

"Hah! He smells the fish on you, 'Berto! Were you taking a swim with Papa's catch today, hmm?"

"Giulia, I said that was enough!"

He smells the sea monster on me, Alberto thought. He glanced down at Machi again and stiffened when he realized his purrs had really been growls.

/ / /

"Oh, Giuseppe, I'm so stupid!" Luca dropped his head into his hands and a flurry of bubbles chased his fins. "I can't believe I actually talked to him!"

The school of fish floated beside Luca, unblinking. Giuseppe, the goatfish in interrogation, only blew a tired bubble from his mouth and huddled closer to Luca.

"I saw these weird sticks floating into the water, and they stained the water black like those oil spills Momma had warned be about, but still I went to see what it was!" Luca took Giuseppe by the hand and cradled him to his chest. "I wasn't expecting to see a land monster up there. I just didn't want those things in the water."

"But," Luca continued to himself, as his herd of fish were clearly unable to do much of anything, least of all lend him advice. "That weird stick with the soft thing at the end was really pretty, Giuseppe. It was purple! The wood was purple! How did he do that?"

"It was Alberto that did that, I think. He painted it purple." Luca jumped up in glee, then floated gracefully back onto the rock he'd been sitting on, giggling at the dark sea above.

"Ugh!" Luca was a ball of emotions. "How could I be such an idiota? I took something from The Surface! I had to hide it, of course, but still!" He pet Giuseppe's scales and the goatfish blew some bubbles in Luca's face to calm him down. "He looked so much different than the way Momma talks about the land monsters. Alberto wasn't scary...he didn't have a harpoon, so that's a good sign, right?"

Luca looked to Giuseppe, and sighed. "I don't know what's happening to me..." Luca murmured to himself, gingerly touching his face and remarking how warm it was in the cool ocean water. It had been like that when Alberto was watching him too, with those bright green eyes. Green like the sea glass Luca had collecting on the rocky ledge of his bedroom cave. When he stared at Alberto, something tingled in his belly, burning low and delightful. He knew what that meant, though he tried to press it down into his abdomen until the feeling eventually drifted away.

"Oh, sharks, I'm just a dumb little crab, aren't I? I even tried to scent him! But I couldn't help it! That land monster smelled so...different. Like the sun, you know? All warm and fuzzy...it was so sweet. Oh, if Momma finds out about this...It's not good, Giuseppe. Not good at all."

"Luca, tesoro it's time for dinner!" Signore Paguro called from a few yard away in the Paguro home. Luca gasped and a trail of frightened bubbles drifted pass his eyes. He grabbed his moss-covered staff and herded the school into a more manageable spot for the night, and swam toward home.

#luca #luca movie #luberto #luberto fanfiction #luca paguro #luca fanfiction #alberto scorfano #luca x alberto #luca and alberto #luca 2021 #gay fish boys #luca pixar #disney luca

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papers4me · 4 years ago

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Fruits Basket, Se03. ep 5,(part 1)

In part 1 of this post, more than analyzing, I want to understand few confusing things first. I’m not annoyed or angry, I’m just confused & trying to piece things together, so, kindly don’t feel off with my usage of (!!!) & (???). lol. I’ll ONLY discuss two things here that confuse me a lot. ( Real ep review/ analysis will be in part 2)

1- Momiji’s romantic love for tohru (the real love triangle). What?!!!!!

I’m so shocked that momiji loves tohru romantically! So, in order to understand ( where did this come from!!) I re-visited his scenes with tohru since se01 & trying to see if I missed anything! Below is my speculations:

Is it love at first sight?!!! When Momiji first met tohru he kissed her on the cheek. I’ve always thought lightly that in the eyes of the reserved Japanese (bowing is greeting), all Europeans (kissing on the check is greeting). hence, Momiji’s kiss, he’s half Europea. However, perhaps it is a Kureno/ Arisa type of love at 1st sight/kiss?! kureno nearly kissed Arisa on the lips on their 1st official meeting. But Kureno/Arisa kiss was meant to be romantic/sexual with adult kureno’s “ I wanted to taste her lips”. but Momiji’s is a peak on the cheek & he was a child, so... I don’t think he’s struck by love before he’s officially introduced to us the audience.

Is it gradual growing love like kyo’s ? in all Momiji/ tohru eps, he always just wanted to play with her, visit places & spend time together. (hot spring & beach vacation) are his own ideas. But momiji didn’t want tohru exclusively. He intentionally invited both yuki & kyo to the hot spring & even was begging kyo to come. He invited all zodiacs to the beach & wanted all to spend time together. I believe that the hot spring ep especially showed momiji as this playful, innocent & naive kid, wanting to share tohru’s females’ hot spring section. I don’t think momiji was madly in love at that time. He was a child going “ waaaa~, kyo hit me” & jumping here & there.

So, summer vacation? but then again, Momiji slept with the children & tohru doted on them all. He defended tohru but they all defend her & love her. he said to kyo that he “selfishly wanted to be with tohru” but I didn’t catch any romantic hints from that. Was it really that time?? they all wanted to spend time with tohru. Yuki said “ I’ll kidnap you”, kyo agreed to go to the beach right away, kisa was glued to her to the point of annoying hiro! So, when? & why not let us as the audience know abt momiji’s feelings.

Is it related to opening up to tohru abt his family issues? He confessed to tohru abt his dad, mom & momo. She cried for him & hugged him. I never got the feeling in all those scenes that he was in love! it seemed to me like friendship love similar to hana’s/Arisa’s or siblings love substituting his nonexistent relationship with momo.

Is it just me?? I always saw momiji as this baby in toddler clothes, jumping, laughing & a ray of sunshine! A child but with the most mature heart & mind. Tohru didn’t help momiji, he was already helping himself first & reaching healthy conclusions abt how he should deal with his own traumas. So, perhaps (Me) not seeing him as a teenager stopped me from seeing his romantic love? but they showed me hiro/kisa’s love. Elementary school kids! so?

Regardless of when he fell in love or how, the point is, this is heart-breathtakingly tragic! cuz (a) tohru never saw him more than a child at first, then as a precious friend, (b) she’s intensely in love with kyo, which brings us to tohru’s core issues. (Tohru loosing yet another loved one). Tohru’s own issues aren’t fully explored yet, but her love for kyo has been blatantly hammered to us since se01 finale! this is because kyo being locked in the cat room equals (death) which parallels her mom’s (death). Tohru will be living her tragic trauma again but this time, kyo replacing kyoko! Thus, giving tohru a room for growth & character development.Tohru’s intense love for kyo was shown in by the drastic change in her attitude in se01, ep.24, chasing firmly after him even when he pushed her & refusing to let go until he’s back home cuz she wants to! then yuki blatantly saying “ she loves him, too, the way she looks at him“ im se02, ep22 & “don’t worry, tohru, he won’t accept (the other girls confession)” in se02, ep 17 & all her scenes with kyo in that ep where she’s scared he’ll let go of her & other scenes throughout the 3 seasons.

...so why momiji’s impossible & unrequited love is introduced?

I believe it is to push kyo to not let go of tohru. To throw kyo into this internal conflict between selflessly letting go of tohru so she could be happy (like hatori did with kana) & selfishly wanting her to be his lover ( like haru). Kyo himself expressed these two conflicting thoughts in se02, ep, 9 “ I hoped we could always be together somewhere far off (selfish love) & “ I don’t want to take anything from you (selfless love). So, momiji is challenging kyo in a way making him realize that selfish love might not be bad afterall & selfless love could be harmful! cleverly reversing the two concepts. So, I get why this love triangle was introduced. but whyyyy momiji! T_T.. choose someone else, Writer-San! poor Momiji we learned abt his love the same ep we learned it hopeless & he can’t pursue! T_T. couldn’t you at least put the two scenes far away, so I get time to grieve his broken heart! T_T.

2- Yuki/Machi ( Yuki is in a such hurry!!!!)

You could use the analogy of yuki’s starting the story as a (baby/child) taken cared by his mother (tohru) who taught him to be a person (all se01), Yuki took this knowledge as a (kid/teenager) & formed friendship on his own with (kakeru) in (se02). it is not after yuki became a true equal friend to kakeru, chocking him & equally teasing him, that Machi was allowed to talk abt her self as a real character with agency & thoughts (se02, ep24), now yuki must be a (teenager/Man) & fall romantically in love, hence (se03, eps 2 & 3). All this is amazing. So, I kinda expected the following:

yuki won’t take as long as kyo in confessing/ realizing romantic love since he/machi don’t have a shared baggage nor obstacles from the past.

he won’t be as fast as haru’s “ i love you/ kiss/ make love”. But then again, Haru & Isuzu have already known each other for years & are already in love, they just put a name to their desires & went on with it.

So, yuki should be in the middle, noticing, knowing abt the person, crushing, then realizing love & wanting a future together! Cuz yuki is this type of person who values taking time thinking thoroughly, right??

I’m confused as yuki wanted to confess the curse & to be with machi romantically right after the machi background scene? I know not everything should be on-screen & him falling slowly in love could be off-screen... the flower is a yuki/machi “ noticing her stage”, her fighting with him over the red leaf is “ noticing him stage” for her. but there’s only ONE intimate scene of them together! Her raw tears when he comforted her in her flat (the chalk scene is bonus). but.. I never expected that yuki is planning to confess his curse & feelings this early!!!!!! yuki! are you SURE she loves you? ( I mean we the audience know 100%) but how is HE sure?? yuki going this big stage so soon felt a bit un-yuki. but then agin, perhaps that’s part of the new changed confident yuki? I duno, I mean Machi was never given a proper time to prosper, but yuki was always given all the time there is to explore his feelings & even other ppl’s feelings! He’s there in kyo/tohru ‘s story to tells the audience they’re in love, he’s there in Isuzu/ haru to mend their gap. I mean yeah there gotta be more scenes abt them for sure, we’re in ep 5, but I never expected a the intruppted confession now & this soon!

perhaps it’s just me, again?! Maye I’m so invested in yuki & accustomed to him always taking time that I kinda expected more before he’s thinking of confessing. I really thought that confessing his curse/love is yuki/machi’s own story climax compared to kyo/tohru’s story climax with kyoko & Isuzu/Haru story climax after breakup, oh well. I’m positive we’ll see more of yuki’s journey with machi as yuki is rarely absent in any eps. More scenes to come!

That’s the end of my headache! XD. I apologize for giving you headache if you were kind enough to read all this. kindly, don’t spoil future scenes or sub-plots to me. I’m just expressing my shock at how fast the plot moved! just few eps ago, I was watching motoko love journey that survived 3 seasons! Hands down Motoko wins in furuba! XD. Jokes aside, Can I say we’re officially where “the plot thickens?” Is it going down? This ep felt like a bullet train!

Side Notes:

I never liked the “children in deep love theme” that hiro has as children shouldn’t suffer the romantic pining & suffering as teenagers & adult ppl, so, I really appreciated that Momimi altho was 15 when we 1st saw him, lived his childhood without the “oh my! I’m so in love~ pining~ suffer”.

The story introduced ( momoiji in romantic love) the same ep Momiji got tall, so making it as sth he expressed once he hit puberty like most boys his age. He even said it “ I’m a man now”, which is again sth boys feel once they get taller & experience other feelings.

Momiji never catches a break! T_T. My son is denied the types of love he wants (parental love, sibling love & now romantic love! ).

I don’t picture momiji/tohru together as a couple cuz it wasn’t built that way in the story & most of their moments weren’t romantic/sexual tension. to me it was the ultimate friendship!

I wish my son finds love on-screen! If Moyoko/Nao gets on-screen love, give my boy on-screen love, too!

Nah~ forget that~ I’m just sad for my son, I don’t want to see him paired with any character quickly to compensate him not having tohru. This is not doing momiji justice. So, I get the ED art of him with Momo.

If kyo has someone who loves him one-sidedly (Kagura), tohru now has someone who love her one-sidedly (momiji).

The kagura/kyo confrontation was heart breaking, but it had to happen cuz kyo knew she loved him & had to stop her. I hope Momiji never confesses to tohru, I wouldn’t be able to survive seeing tohru turn him down.Tohru & momiji are just too kind for such sad situation.

So, does this mean that the two characters with unrequited love are Kagura & momiji? they’re the only characters with no romantic partner in the ED.

Hana is without a lover in the ED, too! XD. Thank God! I love her crush on kazuma, cuz hello~ who won’t crush on this hunk! & teenage girls can crush on grown up men rather than boys (I know I did, but it was just my girlish crush). I’m thankful it is just a crush & teasing kyo tactics & not true romance! don’t give me another Arisa/Kureno, plz. lol.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #confused paper #momiji sohma

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tobesensation-9 · 4 years ago

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hi~ i really love your writings 🥰👌🏼 anw, i want to request a scenario(?) when sf9 and s/o have to babysit their s/o's 3y.o niece for 24h? d-do you get what i mean.. 🥺 shsjdjsh i love you pls stay healthy and stay safe!!!!! 🥺🧡🙏🏼

This is so adorable 😍. I have nieces and one of them is three so this is soo cute to write! Thanks a lot and you too, stay strong 💪.

SF9: Babysitting Together

Youngbin

When you mentioned the news to him he was really excited. “Really? I’ll finally meet her!”

“Hi yn/n!” She’d run to you with her cute little legs while your sibling drops her off. You’d pick her up and turn to Youngbin so they can officially meet. Of course like a lot of little kids she’s nervous.

“Hi! My name is Youngbin. You’re so cute.”

She’d act timid not saying anything or waving at first because she was too busy hiding her face in your chest.

But as the day went on she and Youngbin became the closest friends. You started to get envious seeing that she was having more fun with him than she was with you.

“(The title she calls you) look at what Bin and I made?”

She’d come to you with a cookie in hand. You knew he wanted to make cookies with her. A brave task to take with a three-year-old, but he survived and had a ton of fun.

The cookie had the cuteness of what a toddlers art would looks like, only on a cookie. You took a piece and ate it in delight.

“Mmmm. It’s so good!” At your compliment she’d run over to Youngbin and hug him telling him how much you loved the cookie. He’d look up at you smiling and you smile back.

Inseong

This intellectual lol. Would definitely want to teach your niece a few things.

You’d be making them lunch in the kitchen when you see Inseong and your niece laying on the floor looking at a book.

It showed pictures of the different planets of the solar system. You loved how it wasn’t the ideal dolls and other ideal girl toys. So you loved it even more that she was really into it.

“What is this one called? It’s so biiiiiggg.”

“That’s Jupiter. Did you know it’s the largest planet in the solar system?”

“WHATTT?”

He’d end up taking her to the store and coming back after getting supplies to make their own solar system model.

They’d talk about all sorts of things until her bedtime approached. She’d would definitely be reluctant unless he read more books to her as she fell asleep.

Jaeyoon

He’s always doing crafty things on vlive, so I see him making bracelets with her. When you told him he’d make the effort to buy all sorts of charms at the arts and crafts store. Wanting to give her a huge variety to choose from.

“So you’d add them like this.” The three of you are sitting at the table adding the charms to your bracelets.

“I don’t know what to add?” You could tell that he took the variety so seriously it kinda overwhelmed her.

“Well.... what about this one?” He’d pick a crown charm. “A crown?”

“Yeah, because your beautiful princess.”

“Yay a princess!” She’d end up making a bracelet with nothing but crowns, shoes and dresses, on it reminding you guys every 10 minutes that she was a beautiful princess.

You’d definitely have to buy her a crown before the day was over.

Dawon

After seeing how he interacted with the kids on ‘WDDD’ Dawon has an even bigger soft spot in my heart. Similar to the concept of his variety show, he'd try to complete every task that your niece requests, even the one’s he may not like 😂 ...

“What color do you like? I like purple on you.”

“Ahhh....okay that's fine. That shade is pretty so I’ll let you.”

“It is! I knew you'd like it!”

You’d walk in on your niece giving Sanghyuk a make over. His hair was tied and two disheveled ponytails, with cutely and messy done makeup and now she was polishing his nails. He seemed to do a good job of making sure she didn’t make a mess of anything. But instead, his face was her creative canvas.

“Oh you look so pretty!” You teased him, sitting in his stool, glaring at you and smiling back at your niece through the pain.

Also see him giving her piggyback rides running all of over the play with with her squealing and laughing delight.

Zuho

Like Inseong, I see him sharing his knowledge and interest with your niece and she suck all of it up like a sponge. I’ve learned that young kids are so receptive and willing to learn new things all the time, its too cute. I also had to take the idea from SF9 Sangsa (the new episode was priceless 😂).

So he’d be making music on one of her piano toys and she'd be so astounded.

“Wait can you do that again?”

“What this?”

He’d play a short and cute segment of the chorus of ‘Summer Breeze’ and she’d love it and bounce around dancing like how cute toddlers are. He’d be jumping around and dancing with her too. He’d even be trying to teach her at one point, with her hitting all the wrong keys and laughing together.

From all the excitement she’d have him playing the same melody from the song until she had gotten tired of it.

Rowoon

I see Seokwoo really just trying to engage with your niece. Like he’d bring up different topics or she’d bring up different things and they'd be talking and playing for hours.

You’d laugh at how inquisitive your niece would get. Seeing their interactions would tickle you to your core.

“Mr. Seokwoo?”

“Call me Uncle Seokwoo”. This would make you snicker

He’d be sitting next to her, leaning to her giving her all his attention.

“Uncle Seokwoo, are you a giant?”

He’d chuckle, “Am I a giant?”

“Yeah. You’re so big. I was scared when I first saw you. Because you look like a giant.”

“Well, I guess you can call me that. You don’t have to be scared. I’m the nicest giant you'd meet.” He’d poke her nose and flash her a smile. She’d giggle and they'd giggle together.

It was so cute and funny how quick she warmed up to him and how his charms can work on anyone.

Taeyang

Taeyang just seems so gentle and tender. I think any kid would love him. Of course I think he would try to cook with her or teach her some dance moves. They’d be in a separate room, and you'd hear him playing tons of SF9 songs teaching her some of the dances. Of course modifying them to make the easier for her.

“Like this?’ She’d ask.

“Yeah, just like that. You really got the hang of it!”

In the living room where you were you’d see your niece running out of the room with Taeyang walking behind

“Can we you show you the dances Taeyang taught me?”

“Sure go ahead.”

With a speaker in hand, Taeyang would start playing ‘Life is so Beautiful’ which you’d assume was her favourite song to dance too since you heard this one the most.

She’d look back a Taeyang the entire time laughing with the biggest smile on her face.

Hwiyoung

For some reason I see him having playful banter with your niece. Younger kids can't help but be honest. I think that would poke at his sensitive side and it would turn into playful banter.

“Youngkyun, where are your sleeves?”

She’d be touching his arm. He was wearing one of his iconic no-sleeve, chuffed shirts

“It doesn't have any.”

“Why? It’s cold outside. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I wore a jacket yn/n”.

“Thats not warm enough. Find your sleeves”.

“I told you it’s not supposed to have them.”

You’d see them talking and see him getting flustered by the bluntness of a three-year-old.

He’d look at you, flushed, but trying to laugh it off 😅😂.

Chani

I see him and your niece having a competition to see who’s the cutest for your attention. Like an aegyo contest.

She’d come up to you just being a natural cutie pie telling all the things she’s doing and you praising her for it. And right after to play with her he’d tap you and do some of his famous aegyo and turning to her for a reaction.

Not realising herself she’d try acting cuter for the rest of the day.

“Look (your title)! My dress looks super cute with all the glitter!”

“Look y/n, aren’t my cute eyes and cheeks cuter’, you’d just scoff at him and you’d see your niece just starring at him tapping you to tell you something that she thinks was better.

Even with this little competition they’d get along perfectly. That’s just the nature of Chani he seems to get along well with anyone.

Extra points

- I also think that some of them wouldn’t have any trouble putting her to sleep like Jaeyoon, Inseong, Rowoon and Taeyang. But I think the rest of them would need your help with that.

- Even for those who would have trouble, she’d most likely take a nap next to or leaning on them instead of you before the day was over

- (Definitely see Rowoon, Zuho, Taeyang, and Youngbin just picking her up and laying her on his chest if they were sitting in the coach next to you).

- Your niece would also want ideal food that kids would like, like pizza and chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs. And all of then would agree with her, especially Zuho.

- I see you trying to disagree and suggest something else but they end up chanting for dinosaur nuggets together

- And not forgetting their juice or milk boxes that you’d serve both of them.

#sf9 #sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 reactions #sf9 requests #Youngbin #Inseong #Jaeyoon #Dawon #Zuho #Rowoon #Taeyang #Hwiyoung #Chani

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ellaofoakhill · 4 years ago

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My Thoughts on Boxes

Something has kinda been bugging me the last little while, that I like to think a lot of people can relate to. We live in a society that, generally speaking, likes putting things into boxes; we like analyzing and sorting and organizing. And there’s nothing really wrong with that in and of itself--frankly, I could stand to do a lot more of it in the more practical aspects of my life--but such a system only really works with things that easily fit into discreet categories, and the things that aren’t or can’t be easily sorted are either forced into a box where they don’t fit, or left adrift without any real place to be.

In particular, I’m talking about fiction. You have numerous genres that multiply by the day, and the age categories that stories within those genres are deemed suitable for. And don’t get me wrong, there are lots of practical reasons for those categories; they make advertising and the organization of bookstores and libraries dramatically easier, and for most stories, this system works great, with each finding the audience most likely to derive benefit from reading it.

But--again, solely my opinion here--this may have produced stories that are a lot flatter than stories written in previous eras (which had their own problems, I will NOT get into that today). By flat, I don’t mean boring, or a failure of the story. I mean that the story feels like it was changed to fit into the category it most closely matched. In the most egregious examples, I feel like things were either added to a story that did nothing for it besides make it fit its box better, or taken out that were either integral to the story or added a depth and breadth to it that improved the work overall, even if that made it harder to sort.

This makes me think of the Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch quote, “Murder your darlings”, but completely opposite to what he was getting at. The general interpretation is “Even if you like a given piece of writing/painting/sculpture/etc., if it does more bad than good for your work, you need to remove it for the sake of the art.” What I feel is happening is “You need to change your story so it fits the target demographic, no matter what it looks like at the end.” The former serves the story and its spirit; the latter sacrifices the story for... I don’t know, ease of advertising, perhaps? Certainly financial gain is involved there.

So my first argument against this jaded, greedy way of thinking runs thus. Look at the stories that are now considered classics of Western literature: look at Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice; look at White Fang and Call of the Wild; look at Dracula and Frankenstein; look at The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia (no, I couldn’t resist throwing in two classic fantasy titles, and no, I won’t apologize for it). If you haven’t read these stories, you probably should. Yes, they have problems that mark them as products of their time, but every last one of them has one thing in common: none of them were written with a box in mind. We’ve thought of lotr as a fantasy staple for so long that we’ve forgotten that, prior to its popularity, fantasy as a genre wasn’t really a thing. There were fairy-tales, yes, and stories with fantastical elements, but a genre of story with precise conventions? Not really.

Let’s zoom in on Tolkien’s work, for a moment. Look at his world and its origins, and it draws heavy inspiration from Old English and Scandinavian myths and legends. Look at his characters, in particular his four hobbits, and he drew from his love of the English countryside, his respect for the common working man (Sam, the gardener, literally carries Frodo, the wellbred young gentleman, on his shoulders in the final leg of their gruelling journey to the Cracks of Doom), and his horrific experiences in the First World War. Hilariously enough, a big part of the reason he wrote the stories was as a self-justification for his indulgence in and lifelong love affair with language invention (look at the huge appendices at the back of The Return of the King and tell me I’m lying!). Read his work and any and all interviews with him, and a “genre box” seems clearly to have never crossed his mind.

Putting aside the genre box for a moment, let’s talk age categories. The Hobbit was a story he invented for his children, and it does show. Look at the Lord of the Rings, and it is clearly at a higher level of reading comprehension, and written for a more mature audience; there’s less silliness, though he keeps the wonder at this wild, magical world. But where to put it? The hobbits run a spectrum from basically teenagers (Pippin) to almost middle age (Frodo is in his fifties when he embarks on his journey to Rivendell), yet they’re clearly his protagonists, though we also see some narration revolving around Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, all of whom are adults, though the latter two are somewhat younger for their respective races, whereas Aragorn is in his eighties (this being offset somewhat by the fact that he lives to over two hundred, but I digress...). We’re told today (falsely; VERY falsely) that the main character(s) should match the age of their target audience. Where does lotr fit, then, in terms of age category?

The answer you’re looking for is: not really very well anywhere; at least, not according to modern convention. As for my personal experience, I could and did read both The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion at age thirteen. I consider myself a fairly intelligent young man, but I was varying degrees of lost when I read those. When I re-read them as an adult I was fine, but that isn’t to imply that teens shouldn’t be reading lotr, far from it. There’s nothing in them content-wise one wouldn’t reasonably expect a teenager to handle, and there’s a lot of good, powerful story and commentary in there that’s relevant to this day.

My point is, the age category doesn’t really matter. If I may shamelessly plug my own work for a moment, when I was first writing tftem, and even as I’m editing and publishing it now, I wondered and still wonder about this age category business. There is nothing in these stories I’d consider inappropriate for kids, and anyone above the age of about 8, with perhaps a slight stretch to their vocabulary, could comfortably read every story beginning to end. Further complicating matters, my beta readers ranged from 8 to almost 80, and most of the spectrum in between. They all liked it; whether they liked it for the same reasons is moot.

Which leads me into my second argument against boxing and categorizing stories. The boxes aren’t very reliable. If I may change media for a moment, cultural convention says, as an adult, there is only a narrow sleazy strip of cartoon entertainment I should be watching and enjoying. That tiny slice of the cartoon pie is the only slice I avoid like the plague. Yes, there are stories that don’t appeal to me because they’re too simplistic, or are problematic in ways that I find repellent, or just aren’t executed very well, but aside from things aimed at toddlers and the aforementioned “adult” cartoons, any cartoon is fair game. Give me an interesting concept, or a fascinating character, or hell just give me a good laugh or line of dialogue or beautiful fight scene, and I’ll give it a try.

My point is (yes I had one, and no, believe it or not I didn’t forget it), don’t write or draw or create with a box in mind. You will murder the spirit of your darlings. The box does not exist to define what you, the writer, are allowed to do, or what you should do. At best, the box exists in hindsight, once the work is done, to tell your prospective audience whether your story was written for them. And even then, lots of fantastic stories don’t sit well in boxes. Some of them actively rip the boxes to pieces. Lotr is a story that transcends boxes, and as a result has many layers and rabbit-holes and nuances that you can pick up when you’re ready to appreciate them, however old you are. In many ways, it’s ageless.

I didn’t write tftem to emulate Tolkien, nor even as an homage to him, or C.S. Lewis, or anyone else. But I did want to write a similarly ageless story, a story that could be read and appreciated a hundred years from now, by an audience of eight-year-olds or octogenarians. Why did we ever start moving away from stories like this? They were the foundation of stories for as long as stories have existed on Earth. People are still reading and marvelling at The Epic of Bloody Gilgamesh!

Tl;dr: don’t try to force your stories into boxes; they suffocate. Write what you enjoy writing; chances are it’ll live longer.

#writing #my posts #the box must fit the story not the other way around #on writing #on publishing #tolkien #lotr #my thoughts on the industry and its flaws

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years ago

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The King’s Dumu Lugal Pt 15 (Hakuno, CasGil, Nero, Mash)

Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

____

Mash held Ur on the way back to their chambers.

Caster wasn’t sure what had brought about the response in Hakuno, but it was clear that their journey out of their rooms was over for now. She needed to be back in their room. There needed to be comfort and distractions, small affections and slow, meticulously given words of comfort given. The words would help boost her confidence in leaving. The affections and the distractions would help set her mind at ease.

“Would you like me to leave him in the living room?” Mash asked.

His son was barely conscious at this point, worn out from the excitement of other people and their undying attention towards him. Gudako had cooed and fed him mashed veggies. Mash had helped him hold his baby bottle while he had noticed that Hakuno was a bit out of it.

She’d barely eaten as her thoughts had stolen her away.

“Place Ur in our chambers,” Caster directed. “He can probably use the sleep.”

The woman left to do as he bid, leaving him to take Hakuno over to one of the couches.

“I’m fine, Gil.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“It was nothing.”

He didn’t believe that.

Nothing didn’t end with her biting at her lip until it bled. Nothing didn’t have her looking at her companions and friends as though any second someone would come and ruin things. He’d never seen the expression that Hakuno had made before, especially with how quickly she had grasped little Ur from his arms and pulled her flush against herself.

No, she was lying to him. There was more on her mind than the mere trifles of a young toddler and his newly returned abum.

“I’m fine,” Hakuno told him again, rubbing at his arm. “Thank you for taking Ur to enjoy breakfast this morning. He seemed to enjoy going out with his father.”

See, that wasn’t right.

The phrase should have been, ‘I enjoyed spending time together as a family’ or ‘I loved being able to spend time with you’ or even ‘I want to do that again for dinner.’

She wasn’t fine.

What he needed right now was something meaningful. He’d been with Hakuno at one time. He possessed memories of these times and he knew they had become intimate at a certain point during their time together. So, with that in mind, what did she like?

Naturally, he and his son were on top of that list.

Hakuno also enjoyed sweets, which would have been an option had he not just returned from dining with her.

There wasn’t a great deal of anything else that was coming to mind. She didn’t seek out creature comforts and splurge away on fancy things and sparkling objects. He’d never seen her wear so much as a ring before he’d dressed her up today and that wasn’t really working to his favor either. She looked tempting and depressed.

“Thank you for bringing Ur back,” Hakuno told Mash while he thought carefully about his options.

“Of course! What are friends for?”

Fr-

“Mash,” Gilgamesh glanced over to the woman, his mind drifting to the bloodied garment he’d found this morning in his gates. “Watch Hakuno for me. I have to do something.”

“What is it?”

These women.

He wasn’t even going to dignify them with an answer at the moment. Hakuno needed her own personal comforts, the kind she had partaken in without even realizing it. She had her own version of pleasure, her own way to bring herself into a better mood.

He stalked back towards the dining hall.

A few servants were still lingering within the room, namely those that were more apt towards helping their master and the facility workers with their daily tasks. A few servants nodded his way, smirking towards the king whom had brought forth a son with one of the masters. It looked like Gudako was laying in on Jack again, holding a knife in her hand and motioning towards a red puddle on the floor.

Most likely, it was Cu who was stabbed, the damn fool.

He looked on, passed the master of Chaldea and more towards the depths of the hall.

“Emperor!”

The blonde perked up at his call, her green eyes all but instantly gazing his way. To go with it, her smile was flashed, looking as radiant as ever.

“Nero,” Gilgamesh addressed again. “It is good that you are still here.”

“Oh ho! Is this about Hakuno? She was so beautiful today! I did not know that you had a child with her! And did you see his cheeks?” Nero pulled her phone out, pulling up a picture of Hakuno smiling to the boy.

It must have been taken before he had returned to her side.

“I knew that my praetor would be a wonderful wife, but to think a mother as well?! Ah, Rome weeps at the loss.”

The woman nearby threw her a look.

“Yes, yes. Boudica, you’re quite intimidating.” Nero waved the woman off dismissively, not even looking her way before she flipped to another picture to show him. “Look at the faces! They’re so alike! Praetor’s baby is going to look like a blond her! I can’t wait. I’ll help her raise him as best I can.”

“…You realize that you are talking about my son.”

Nero just looked up at him, smiling.

She knew. She simply did not care.

This was not the reason he had sought the woman out.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Showing you photos of Praetor and little Emperor.”

“I meant, this morning.”

Did she not understand the concept of tact?

It was tempting to turn away and leave.

“I don’t have anything planned,” Nero began, humming softly. “Master was planning to take Boudica out today so that means I will not be in the team compositions for today. Then there’s arts teams this afternoon. It sounds like it’s going to be a day for casters to practice fighting.”

Casters?

“Anyway, I am free,” Nero replied with a smile. “Was there a reason for this question, Mage King?”

“Hakuno needs a friend.”

He might as well have declared his son hers with how Nero began to bounce on her feet. Those green eyes were wide and that squeal of delight was echoing off all the walls, going straight to his precious few nerves.

The woman grasped his hands.

“You wish for me to spend time with my Praetor again!? AH! This is perfect! I will come immediately, not to worry. I know she has been rather lonely and she looked so sad at the end of breakfast. I am an instant charmer, Mage King! I, the emperor of Rome, the lady of roses, the embodiment of Roma, will resolve her woes!”

He could turn back now and lock the doors.

Hakuno didn’t have to have Nero spend time with her. There were others around that would be suitable. In fact, the only reason he’d chosen her was that damned outfit.

“What’s going on?” Tamamo no Mae approached, her eyes shifting from him to the Roman.

“It is nothing!” Nero smiled brightly. “The king merely wants my presence. He’s in need of some good company and who better than-“

“You can’t seriously be considering Saber instead of a sensible person. Even my husband had better sense-“

“Praetor loves her time with me!” Nero grabbed his arm, pulling him closer and sticking her tongue towards the fox servant, “and King Gilgamesh has made up his mind. Roman time for him, Praetor, and little Emperor.”

“Poor kid.”

“You take that ba-OH!”

He was done listening to this.

This fight was wasting time, time that was no doubt being used to binge in those thoughts that Hakuno had plagued herself with this morning during breakfast. There was simply no time to spare.

So he hoisted the fool over his shoulder, glancing to Tamamo.

“Are you training today?”

“Master had intended to have this sly fox,” she purred.

He nodded.

So be it.

“Bye bye, Caster!” Nero cooed to the woman as they walked off. “I will make sure to tell you all about this later.

Perhaps he should have wasted his clairvoyance in looking into this. Plucking Nero due to a garment that Hakuno had worn was a poor plan in hindsight, but there was little he could do now. Nero was over his shoulder, prattling on about Hakuno and Ur.

It didn’t help when he returned to his chambers with Hakuno either.

The moment he set Nero down and opened the doors, Nero was bursting through the entrance in a flurry of rose petals and red skirts.

“PRAETOR~!”

“SHHHHHH!”

Gilgamesh looked around her, finding Hakuno holding Ur in her arms. He was awake, but it didn’t look like he had recovered from using so much energy to appreciate his company earlier. His little arms were half in the air, grasping and releasing the bottle that Hakuno was feeding him with.

“The little Emperor,” Nero murmured, tiptoeing her way to Hakuno’s side. “Hakuno, he’s so beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“When did you have him? You should have had me come to help.”

“I have been fine taking care of him. Ur’s a good baby.”

“He may be, but babies do cry and they cry when it is convenient for them. The king is a loud one, his son would be no different.”

That was no doubt his cue to leave.

Hakuno had her friend and she seemed pleased. Since it was a day for Casters to be training, Gudako would no doubt be stealing him away or lamenting his loss at her side if he did not seek out the command room.

Bearing that in mind, Gilgamesh moved to Hakuno’s side and pressed his lips to hers lightly.

“You should spend more time with your friends, Hakuno. I have found they do not last forever, but their memories, albeit precious few, are worth making.”

“You should stay here too,” Hakuno tried.

“Gudako is training her casters today. I have no doubt that she’ll need me.”

“You want to go train when you have Praetor and little Emperor here? Really?” Nero shook her head. “Praetor, he’s senseless.”

“I am being responsible,” he corrected.

The woman rolled her eyes before noting that Ur was no longer drinking at his bottle. His eyes drifted over to her. His hands released the empty bottle.

“Ah!”

“Hello!” Nero cooed. “Little Emperor, you are so much like your mother. You’ll become a good little ruler, won’t you? Your godfather Nero will take such good care of you.”

“Godfather?”

Nero smiled at them both for the question, nodding. “Of course! A child needs to have a legal guardian for when his parents are both away or gone. Little Emperor will have me!”

If anyone was gaining that title, it would most likely be the Chaldean master and shielder-

“Just promise me you’ll be careful with him,” Hakuno replied. “No matter what happens, just help me make sure he stays safe, Nero. You’ve always taken great care of me.”

Her voice was thick, joined with Hakuno’s eyes becoming brimmed with a fresh set of tears.

“Praetor…”

Nero pulled Ur carefully from her arms, handing the boy to him.

“My sweet Praetor… You know that I would go to the ends of the earth to keep any piece of you happy, whether it is you or your little Emperor.” Her hands wiped at Hakuno’s eyes. “Praetor… You are my favorite master in all the world. You are so beautiful that even the king of heroes had to have you, stealing you away from me. Do you remember before? I gave you my favorite dress when you left the Moon Cell. I told you to do your best to smile and feel all that is Roma.”

Hakuno smiled slightly.

“Your smile illuminates all the world. It’s so blinding that you outshine even your king.”

Hakuno was swallowed into the woman’s arms, hugged so tightly that there was no helping her at this point. It had been what she had needed though. These walls and doors were hindrances. People needed other people. Friends needed one another.

Gilgamesh glanced down to his son, watching him burp loudly before cooing and leaning back against him.

“Ummumummumm.”

“She is busy,” Gilgamesh murmured. “How about abum?”

“Uuuuummum.”

He endless luck was not working in his favor today.

However, with another glance to Hakuno and the mouthing of a silent ‘thank you’ his way, he had a feeling he had done what had needed to be done.

She was feeling better.

#drabble #drabbles

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hyannah · 5 years ago

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Anon Archives vol. 4 (right?)

full res: x I miss him too. He was the first of the cast I ever designed and without him, there would simply be no TBoA. Rest assured there will be no shortage of him in the comic :) I understand that the concept of Wolfe with facial hair will be like marmite for most of you, but it’s probably something that you should prepare for regardless! Wolfe no longer has use of his hands due to extensive nerve damage and he has to get imaginative with ways to keep his grip on things - but some tools, like razors - are simply impossible for him to use anymore due to his tremors. Before the gang comes together he will be looking quite worse for wear.

full res: x She calls him “Marty” :) Her mother called him that so it makes him happy. He’s not her father but he loves her as one would. He was the one who delivered her as a baby, though during the process there were complications. She broke her leg on the way out and though Martin was able to treat her, it caused her to walk with a slight limp growing up. Teaching her to dance wasn't just Martin's idea of physiotherapy but his way of showing her how dearly he cared for her. Music and dance are our good doctor's love languages, you see. He will have Twinkletoes refer to him as “Sir” when he reprimands her, but due to some of Martin’s own issues growing up, he hates disciplining children. If he absolutely must, it’s firm but merciful, and under no circumstances would he ever raise his hand to them.

full res: x Michael Graves is one of three of Ashwick’s Senior Wardens, the other being Hunter Gerhardt and an as of now unannounced third. Wardens are the town’s law enforcers who work directly under the church’s orders. Neither entirely police nor militia, they’re a bit of both. Wardens patrol the streets at night and make sure no one is out after Curfew. Wardens are simultaneously feared and revered amongst the deeply religious townsfolk who view them as God-sent, but no one strikes pure terror into their hearts quite like Graves. While Hunter is known for being terrifying but sometimes merciful, Graves holds no such reputation. If gunshots are heard in the night or blood stains the cobblestones in the morning, townfolk know to keep their mouths shut and heads down.

Thank you so much! I still have some demons to battle but I want to get better, and your support means the world.

Thank you! I kinda wanna die when I look at that piece. Damian deserved better than my art in that funky phase and I will capture his true beauty one day.

LOL Bloodborne has been a huuuuge visual influence on me over the last few years. Expect to see some similarities I'm sure.

Thank you ;.; I used Paint Tool Sai religiously but I've unfortunately fallen out of love with it in the last year in favour of Clip Studio Paint. I would highly recommend CSP and since it comes with a one-month free trial you'd be missing out not to give it a go. I occasionally use Photoshop for some final touches but not enough to say it's worth paying that silly subscription fee for. Lately, I've been using Procreate on my iPad. It was one hell of an investment (😔💸) but it was worth it - the iPad feels great to draw on.

Thank you! Yes, definitely expect that. There are a few timeskips in canon and I have outfit changes planned.

Wolfe can sometimes be seen circling a bed or chair a few times before sitting/lying down not unlike a dog would. Rose cannot - and I truly mean this - fathom numbers. To say she is bad at math would be a terrible understatement. Martin needs a few shots of whiskey a day to keep him going but he never seems inebriated so it’s impossible to tell (unless you’re Hunter). Hunter is so tall that churches are the only buildings he doesn’t have to duck to get in to and he Riker Sits everywhere. Gloria is a little superstitious, and Graves is a cigarette smoker. Twinkletoes likes pigeons.

I would certainly recommend it! If drawing inspires you, give it a shot! Though whether or not I recommend going to school for it is a more complicated question. The good thing about pursuing a career in art is that at the end of the day your work ethic and portfolio are your best friends. Having degrees and connections will help in the industry for sure (and why I DO recommend art courses for people who have the money and want to experience student life), but if you're a poor kid that can't shell out the dough for art school or if you studied a different field, or if college didn't/isn't working out for you, it's not the end of the road. You can build your career on your own terms if you're driven enough.

Hm, let's see. I think Wolfe and Gloria would appreciate some sweet treats! Hunter rarely eats anything that isn't meat, and Rose has lived on the road most of her life so campfire food is what she's used to. She's the kind of person you'd see eat something horrifying like uncooked beans straight from the tin. Gloria appreciates her guilty pleasures and Wolfe recalls her sharing taffy with him as a little boy. But those memories are hazy now, and he's long since forgotten the taste.

Oh jeez, that would mean the world to me! As for the dialogue, it’s probably a bit of both honestly haha.

Hunter: 43, Wolfe: 23, Gloria: 41, Martin: 45, Rose: 19, Graves: 38. Some of you may recall Hunter being younger but I had to make a few timeline adjustments. Otherwise, everyone has remained the same.

Oh, well, it just might be! Wolfe is used to carrying the frail and sickly through the Charnels, but human touch in that regard is alien to him.

You're right about one thing, Ashwick is certainly in the title! I'm pretty close to revealing it so hopefully you won't be stumped for too long. I can reveal however, if I haven't already (and I think I may have, I haven't read the previous Anon Archives in years), that TBoA was going to be called Memento Mori.

He raises an amused brow at your sentiment but if you're under 35 you're all toddlers and babies to him. Plus he can't go 5 minutes without thinking about his wife so it's safe to say he’s settled down.

Haha, yeah! All of the above. Though it goes both ways. Hunter’s antics drive the poor man up the wall for sure but Hunter will be the first to tell you that doc is a force of nature too when he’s got to be. They’ve known each other for decades. They’ve taken bullets and bruises and stabs wounds for one another. Martin makes sure Hunter doesn’t get himself killed (at least he did before Malignancy took that off the table) and Hunter makes sure Martin doesn’t work himself to death. Gloria just wonders why they both have to be so damn dramatic.

1. Rose's candles simulate artificial sunlight and can temporarily vanquish Spectres from the area at night until the wick runs out. These are especially useful to the common folk who may be suffering from seeing their dead loved ones night after night. Her special coloured candles are different, though. They block a Malignant from being able to possess their Host's body and thus allow the Host to keep control of themselves when night falls. You'll learn more about the ins-and-outs of this mechanic in the comic.

2. I can't share that! You'll just have to wait and find out. Though it is a wonder how someone as formidable and self-disciplined as Hunter could fall prey to a Malignant's manipulation … I suppose even men like Father Gerhardt have been vulnerable at one point in their lives, huh?

It’s private, sorry :( It was a kind gesture from a fan who wanted to show their appreciation but it quickly got a little out of hand and very inappropriate. I’m good friends now with the few who did join so it’s not so bad and we have a good laugh, but it’s given me a small taste of “Fandom” on a grander scale and it was enough for me to realise it makes me pretty uncomfortable to be in the middle of it. I love being able to communicate with you all but I don’t love being in awkward situations so much. I might try again in the future, we’ll see.

Malignancy is unpredictable and what happens to one Host won't necessarily happen to the other!

ohohohoh who knowsssssss ;D

Nope, she’s Hunter’s danger noodle gal.

Yes, I love them!!!! I recall checking them out after you sent this message quite some time ago. I had heard a few of their songs before but I've been listening to them regularly ever since. I appreciate the recommendation since music is a really big thing for me.

Oh thank you very much! They're my own characters yes :) I first created them when I was 16 for a college project. One day I would like to share that with you all because it's come a long way. The comic is in development. Thank you all for your questions, I think that’s most of them. If you don’t see your ask in here it’s because it was asked already, I got a similar question and took a screenshot of that instead, it was too inappropriate, I can’t reveal the information yet, or I simply didn’t see it. As always if you’re looking for more prompt responses please message me off anon so I can reply privately since I respond to most anons in bulk!

#anon archives #tboa #tboa (webcomic)#my art #digital art #Illustration #wolfe grey #martin mcgregor #michael graves #twinkletoes #asks #anonymous

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fracturedmotivationwriting · 5 years ago

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a little coven meeting

"Sorry, I'm late! I got stopped by a professor on my way out of the studio," Datura explained breathlessly, finding her friends in their usual meeting spot for official coven business. The small clearing in the middle of the woods was a long way away from the art building, and Datura lacked a car or a bicycle to make her trip quicker.

"Next time we'll start without you," Grisha warned, standing tall with his arms crossed. As if he had any authority in the matter. Datura rolled her eyes.

"Let's get started," Prom cut in before her 'second in command' could get into it with Datura. She didn't need the witch hurting his ego by winning a fight.

"The first item of business: Mormo," she turned to the demon, who was lounging lazily on a chair he'd conjured up.

"Is the item of business pleasing me?" Ambrose drawled, an easy smirk pulling on his face. "Cause for that you'll all have to strip."

"We're here to discuss your cover while you're with us," Pollux interjected, stepping protectively closer to his girlfriend and glaring at the demon. Datura tried not to giggle. It was awfully cute watching Pol get jealous. Prom was a lucky lady.

"You're name is Ambrose or Amber. Everyone should start referring to you as such. Please try to stick with one gender for your classes. Let's not raise questions with the humans," Prom sighed, giving Ambrose a warning look when he cheekily grinned up at her. Lesser beings would be scared of Prom's warning look, she was a very intimidating witch. But Ambrose was a demon, and more so found her amusing and annoyingly hot.

"You're a transfer student from Philadelphia. You transferred because you wanted to be further away from home and our university had better programs for you. You'll have to pick a major, but all your classes have to be a class one of us is taking," Pollux continued, his tone making it clear that there was no debate about this.

Pollux spoke with such authority about things, Datura wondered how Grisha could ever think he was Prom's second in command. How big was his ego that he was blind and deaf to the obvious signs before him? Plus, it was clear that Prom and Pollux were the only two who had a clear concept of what this cover story and plan were. How could Grisha rationalize being out of the loop if he were second? Maybe he just always assumed that since Pol lived with Prom he got to hear her ideas first? Datura just didn't understand how he was so stupid sometimes.

"What you don't trust me?" Ambrose teased, winking up at the couple.

"No," Pollux responded flatly, crossing his arms.

"Of course, we're gonna have to... persuade the faculty that you are indeed a transfer student and get you into the classes," Prom moved on, ignoring the pissing match between her boyfriend and the demon. "Datura, do you think a little voodoo could do the trick? Really, you should just have to convince the registrar."

"I can do that, Prometheus," Grisha spoke up, stepping forward with a look on his face that reminded Datura of an eager puppy. An eager puppy wanting to please his master, but that also thought he was superior to everyone.

"No, I think Datura's the best option for this," Prom started diplomatically, glancing at the smirking girl. "There's no reason to waste your talents on a menial task such as registering Ambrose for classes."

Datura had to hide her snort of laughter in a cough. She shot Prom an apologetic shrug when the high priestess glared at her. It didn't matter though, because Grisha seemed pleased with this response and stepped back.

"Charming faculty is my specialty, Prom," Datura assured her. "Consider it done."

Prom nodded, seemingly satisfied with that response. She turned to Pollux, question in her eyes as if to ask 'is there anything else?' Pollux subtly shook his head before raising an eyebrow. Datura wasn't quite sure what that meant, but clearly, Prom knew how to read her boyfriend's expressions better. Or at least, knew what he was getting at this time. Datura had always found both Pollux and Prom hard to read, but the silent warlock was always a bit trickier.

"That's it on Ambrose for now," Prom began again, turning her attention back to Datura and Grisha. They all ignored Ambrose's whine of protest. He wanted more attention. He reminded Datura of an old cat she used to have. A black mutt her parents had found on the road that seemed to be calling for them. The little rascal mewed incessantly whenever it wasn't being played with or cuddled.

"Second order of business," Prom took a pause, seemingly bracing herself for what she was about to say. Datura felt her stomach sink, an inkling telling her exactly what was going to happen. Grisha was going to throw a fit.

"There's a human aware of our coven's existence."

Datura tried her best to looked shocked. Thankfully, Grisha wasn't paying any attention to her. The warlock looked furious, his focus fully on Prometheus as he started to sputter.

"What? How could this happen?" He finally managed to get out angrily, after struggling to form a coherent sentence. He suddenly turned to Datura, a look of rage in his eyes that the witch had never witnessed before. It was like a chihuahua getting angry when you took away its bone.

"This is your fault, isn't it? Always flaunting your magic in front of them. Going to parties to do tarot readings and real magic tricks. You did this," he snarled at her, stepping closer threateningly.

Datura was fully ready to go back to the basics and punch him when someone stepped between them. A taller someone with a very muscular back evident beneath the thin black t-shirt. A someone who smelled pleasantly of smoke and whiskey, and just a touch of sulfur. It was an odd combination, and Datura definitely didn't think she'd like it given her preference for lavender and sage, but it worked.

"I'd step back from her, darling," Ambrose's smooth voice warned the warlock. "There's no use blaming the beautiful witch. Isn't her fault."

Grisha glared up at the demon, taking a minor step back (probably so he didn't have to tilt his head so much to glare at him, Datura thought).

"What do you mean it isn't her fault? Of course, it is," he growled. "She's incompetent, flighty, and too keen on trying to impress others -- even the humans. Of course, this is her fault."

Datura really wanted to punch this kid. But Pollux managed to catch her eye, shaking his head in silent warning. Now was not the time.

"It's not her fault because I'm the one who told the human," Ambrose explained, his voice slowing down as if he were talking to a toddler. He offered the warlock a cheeky grin. "I thought she was gorgeous, I told her I was a demon, and before Prometheus could stop me I told her of your coven and refused to wipe her memory."

"Pollux and I bound her so she can't say anything to anyone else," Prom added, stepping forward. "It's all Ambrose's fault, and he should have fixed it, but Pollux and I cleaned up the mess instead."

Ambrose laughed goodnaturedly, apparently not at all offended by the dig at him. He grinned over at Grisha, stepping a little closer.

"Now, why don't you let go of all that anger and apologize to Datura and give her a little smooch?" He teased. "You've hurt my feelings too and I think I should get a smooch too, actually."

Grisha glared at Ambrose, but stepped further away. He crossed his arms, looking like a pouting child who had just been put in time out. There was no way Datura was getting an apology out of him (not that she wanted it), and there was no way she'd ever let him 'smooch her.'

Ambrose laughed, turning back to the group as a whole. Clapping his hands together, he looked to Prom.

"Well, I'm guessing smooches are out of the question. That's fine. But can this meeting please be done? I'm getting bored again and would like to go do something a little more fun," he drawled, a cheeky grin on his face again.

Prom sighed, shaking her head. Pollux grabbed her hand, presumably to comfort her and prevent her from hitting the demon. Datura could see that the intrusion of Ambrose on their home was already hampering their love life. The two already looked down with the demon's shenanigans.

"That's all we needed to discuss today," Prom conceded. "I'll let you know when we need to meet again. Datura, don't forget to get Ambrose registered for classes. I'm sure he'll tell you which ones he'll hate the least."

Datura gave Prom a thumbs up, laughing to herself as the new trio made their way out of the woods. Yeah, Ambrose was definitely starting to get on their nerves already. Maybe more so on Pollux's who looked ready to murder the demon, but still... That apartment was surely interesting.

#witches and ghosts and demons oh my

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forallyourikemensengokuneeds · 5 years ago

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raising a princess ch one

“Sakura come here!” Mitsuhide yelled through the house.

“No daddy.” She said as she stood on the landing, “I don’t wanna go to school.”

“Sakura Akechi! I have to go to work and you need to get to daycare.” He said as he went over to the stairs.

“I is a big girl, Daddy. I can stay here by myself.” She said as her golden eyes glowed with a knowledge Mitsuhide sometimes hated.

“You are a big girl but baby you have to go to daycare. I have to go to work. It is Friday and we can go to the park this weekend if you will just please go to school.” Mitsuhide pleaded with the now three year old.

“I don’t like it daddy!” she said as he moved up the stairs.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asked as he sat down at the landing she was standing on.

“Daddy Miss Tanya yells all day.” She said. “She is mean. I don’t want to go.”

“Sakura Do you want to look for another school?” Mitsuhide asked.

“Yes Daddy.” Sakura said as she hugged him.

“Well you still have to go to school today but after my meetings I will pick you up and we will go look to see if there is something you like better.” Mitsuhide said as he knew he was giving in to her to easy but he also really didn’t like the way the school was headed. When he placed her two years ago in the new school it was fashioned to be more of a learning center where the young girl would learn things like a pre-school but as time went by he could only see it being a place where people dumped their children all day. He hated leaving Sakura in it but until she said something he wouldn’t move her again. That day finally arrived.

“Okay daddy.” She said as he hugged him and he lifted her up. He carried her to his car and belted her in to her car seat. Still small he wondered if she would ever be ready for a booster seat. They got to the daycare and he walked her in with her small backpack on his back and he looked around. She walked to her classroom which was in the back, though she was small she was in the advanced classroom with some of the older kids. He placed her backpack in the cubby hole she had and he bent down.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, princess.” He said as she hugged him tight and he pat her back.

“I love you daddy.” She said as she went to the table in the center of the classroom.

“I love you too princess.” He said softly.

“Mr. Akechi.” Miss Tanya said as she walked up to the man who was watching the tiny little girl at the table. “We would prefer it if you only used Sakura’s name here instead of any nicknames or pet names.”

“I will call my daughter whatever I wish.” Mitsuhide said as he looked down at the woman with disgust.

“It is just that some of the other children do not get called things like Princess by their parents and we find it gives a false sense of superioty to a toddler.” The woman went on.

“She is three. If I want to call my daughter princess, I will.” He said.

“I just find it causes much more trouble down the road.” She said, “Also I do have to ask you to refrain from doing it here.”

“You know what.” Mitsuhide said as he was trying to reign in his temper, “I don’t believe that we will have an issue with nicknames any longer.”

“Well it is good to see that you are taking my advice seriously.” Tanya said with a smile.

“I would like my daughters records please.” Mitsuhide said. “Sakura come here please.”

“Her records?” Tanya asked blankly.

“Yes. I would like her records please, NOW.” He said forcefully trying to not roar.

“But we don’t give those back to parents unless they are pulling their children from the school.” Tanya said.

“I know. As of this moment you do not have to worry what I call my daughter. She will not be going here any longer.” He said as an evil smile crept over his face.

“But.” Tanya said and the owner of the day care came over to help disfuse the situation. To which five minutes later he was walking out of the daycare with a folder on one hand and Sakura holding on to the other.

“Where are we going daddy?” she asked.

“To my job. I have that meeting I have to go to today but you can stay with one of your uncles. After that we will go find you another school.” Mitsuhide said.

Three hours later he was standing in front of a small house as he wondered if he had the right address. This did not look like any of the other daycares he had been too over the years. He looked down out the little girl next to him who also had bright wide eyes. He went up and rang the bell. A young woman opened the door with a smile.

“Hello, Can I help you?” she asked with a slight southern accent he could detect.

“I called about the daycare about an hour ago.” Mitsuhide said when he cleared his throat to speak as the woman in front of him was one of the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on.

“Oh, Mr. Akechi. It is so good to meet you.” She said as she opened the door wider to let the two of them in. “And you must be Sakura!” she bent down to Sakura’s level and put out her hand to shake the girls hand. Sakura looked up at her father who nodded and she placed her small hand in the one of woman in front of her. “It is a pleasure to meet you Sakura. My name is Kristy.” She stood up and looked again at Mitsuhide, “If you will come with me we can discuss what you wish for Miss Sakura and then if your still interested in our program I can gladly show you around.”

“Lead the way.” Mitsuhide said as he looked down at his daughter who also seemed to be taken with woman. They went into an office off to the side and she left the door open.

“As I told you the owner who happens to be my aunt isn’t in today. She won’t be in for a week or so but I can answer any of your questions.” Kristy said as she sat down.

“So your aunt owns this place?” Mitsuhide said.

“My aunt started this place because of the sheer size of the family.” Kristy said. “We all went here at some point of our lives.”

“We?” Mitsuhide asked.

“My Siblings, cousins, and myself.” Kristy said as she pointed to a picture on the wall. “We were a huge family and my aunt was the only one who had a degree in early childhood education. She started this place to help all of us find a place to fit in.”

“A place to fit in?” Mitsuhide asked.

“Most of our fathers were also in the military. We were born in different places and often had different backgrounds in education even from our own siblings at times. She helped us with learning English and getting us ready for the school systems here. She made the program to help us, her family, but found that adding a few children from other families was the key to having a well rounded program. Even now the family is the main users of the school.” Kristy said with a smile. She looked at the tiny girl who was looking around the office. “Do you have any questions Sakura?”

“Is that you?” the tiny girl asked as she pointed to a picture on the wall.

“Surprisingly no, hun.” Kristy said as she walked over and took the photograph off the wall. “This is my mom.”

“Mom?” Sakura said with a tilt of her head. “I don’t have one of those.”

“Well if you wanted to see me in one of those pictures. I am in this one. Though I must be around your age.” Kristy said as she glossed over the admission of the young girl, “It was when my dad moved us from south America to here. He was in the military too just like your dad.”

The girl continued to look at the different photographs on the wall. “Now Mr. Akechi can you tell me what you are looking for in a program for Sakura?”

“Something that will teach her something. I don’t want her to be sitting in front of a tv or doing arts and crafts all day every day.” He started and Kristy let out a small laugh.

“I understand.” She said. “I think maybe I should show you around so you can see that we are slightly different then most daycares.”

“Yes. I think I would like to see that.” He said and Sakura took her fathers hand as they left the office.

“Now this right here is the front entrance. Though most people use it to come and go so we can monitor who enters and leaves we do have another entrance around back. It has a special badge that you have to have to open the doors. We do have an alarm on that one as well so we know inside the building that someone accessed it. These front rooms are our conference rooms that we can have meeting with families to give quarterly reports on each child. We do have these conferences on your schedule so if you have an issue we can help address it here as well. Now here comes the classrooms. This is the babies room. We have two teachers and eight infants under twelve months old in here. We also have a floating teacher that helps out in here when needed. Now the younger toddlers room. And further down the hall over here is the classroom that Sakura would be in.” Kristy opened the door and waved as all the twelve heads of the children turned and saw her. The two teachers that were in the room also looked up, “Please continue.”

“And this is how we say it in French.” The teacher said as she repeated a phrase in french to the class while the other teacher said, “This is how we say it in Spanish.”

Kristy shut the door and smiled at the two people she was giving the tour too. Mitsuhide was impressed already and it seemed his daughter was. “Now let’s go to the art rooms and the computer lab.” Kristy continued on the tour showing them room by room and the outside of the building with the semi large playground.

“This place is completely different.” Mitsuhide said.

“Like I said my aunt built this whole concept from the ground up. She knew that it would be more effective on the learning parts if it wasn’t like a school. There is one television in the whole building. That is only used for the older children on a Friday if they have received enough credit for the week. They also only watch a half an hour of whatever it is they won. Language skills are important for under five years old so we introduce things that will help them as well when they are older. It also helps for those who have to learn English that we offer five different langagues here. We are a family regardless and my aunt runs this place like it is her family.” Kristy said as she sat back down.

“Sakura what do you think?” Mitsuhide asked.

“I love it here daddy.” She said as she looked up at the woman who was sitting there.

“Okay princess.” He said as he looked up at the woman. “How much is the school.”

Kristy threw out a number and Mitsuhide looked at her like she was insane. “How is that possible? I was paying three times that amount at the other place.”

“Mr. Akechi we believe in quality over making a profit.” She said. “My aunt will never be rich but she will have the knowledge she helped guide her children here into something better.”

“We will take the spot.” Mitsuhide said.

“Good, now let’s have you fill these out.” Kristy said as she pulled out a new folder with a bunch of papers.

“Do you work here?” Mitsuhide asked.

“Actually no I don’t.” Kristy said, “I fill in for the office if I am needed like this week that my aunt is on vacation. I also help out here over the summer. I am in medical school and have break then.”

“A doctor huh?” he asked.

“Yes but I owe a lot to my aunt. You will find that most of the teachers here are either my cousins or they are former students.” Kristy said.

Mitsuhide looked at her and smiled. This was going to be the daycare that worked out for him and Sakura. Something told him this was going to help him with the girl.

#ikemen sengoku inspired sort of #rasing a princess #single father #Akechi Mitsuhide #Sakura Akechi

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prankprincess123 · 5 years ago

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Just watched the first few episodes of Daybreak and have already figured out what I would do in that situation (presuming that 'adult' refers to those whose brains and bodies have reached full maturity, meaning about 25ish years old as a bio weapon wouldn't be able to be programmed based on age but on biological differences) and I'd be laughing.

Like yeah driving through the city to get some of my cousins right at the start would be a bit dangerous, and fitting everyone in vehicles to evacuate would be a headache. But we would have two drivers just from my household, and theres a few friends of ours that would probably also come with, and once we're out of the city things would be a breeze. All we'd have to do is drive a straight shot down the highway for 2h and we'd be in a tiny town where the rest of our family lives, and by the time we got there we'd already have at least three houses as our fortress, including one that's fully stocked for 20+ people surviving ten apocalypses (uncle is paranoid) because we have 7 cousins living there already, and even though one of them would drive in to the nearest city to grab our cousins from there, that still leaves 6 of them to hold their own house and our grandparents' for an hour or two and claim the house in between the two as a safe place, before the rest of us get there and then we'd have a minimum of 30 people in our 'tribe'. Realistically we'd probably have anywhere from 50-100 though once you take into account neibours and friends that would band with us.

And yes this group would include at least two toddlers, and several like 4-8yo's but at the same time those kids are arguably the most dangerous. Like theres a reason my friends call my 6yo sister 'The Goblin Queen' as that kid is rabid, already a bit of a pyro, doesn't give up in any fight no matter how outmatched she seems, and man can that kid climb, like worst comes to worst she would just camp out on rooftops and survive on pure spite. And my one 5yo cousin has such wicked aim that she can more than take care of herself, like last summer she was mad that her then 7 and 9yo sisters were sparring with eachother rather than her and she picked up their 12yo sister's escrima sticks and simultaneously just whipped them at the older girls, hitting them both solidly in the foreheads. And then theres the 2, 4 and 6yo brothers that are full on ninjas, like I'm not kidding their mom teaches them martial arts and their favorite game is to jump off their bunkbeds and see who can do the most backflips before hitting the ground. Over all these kids would not be a liability, the only one who theoretically would be is the 1yo, and theres no way we'd leave her behind, especially since we'd already be going to her house to get her older siblings all of whom would be valuable assets within a few months at most.

And then on top of that most of the older kids know how to hunt and/or farm, so food would never be a big concern. And knowing how to hunt especially with archaic weapons such as bows (which several of us do) would be absolutely invaluable in terms of defense. Not that we'd have much need for defense in such a small town in the middle of nowhere. And in all functionality most kids in such towns start filling the roles of adults by mid teens at latest, so there would still be people working at the shops and farms and construction yard even.

Seriously all of the kids in the show are absolute idiots, and anyone with brain cells would manage to survive much better than that. Based on even just the most basic parts of my plan we'd be sitting pretty and within a year we'd probably have managed to reorganize some semblance of society even if it was a tribal clan esque one. And similar things would happen in other rural areas as well. Like this whole concept of an apocalypse killing most adults and turning the rest into Zombie-esque creatures is only something that would prove a real danger in cities, and so long as you could get out of a city and into somewhere already friendly you'd be fine.

#random ramblings #random rant #long ramble #daybreak #zombie apocalypse #apocolypse #surviving a zombie apocalypse #surviving an apocalypse

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dragon-stones · 5 years ago

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Toddler Madness

Chapter Name: Too Tired for This Part: 9 Pairing: Frostiron Rating: T Summary: Stephen is filled in on what happened and Loki decides to be a little shit.

Find on AO3 and FF.net

Stephen sits on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands. He glances over at the unconscious man laid out on the other couch. The Sorcerer had given Tony a once over. And had not found anything that would need immediate medical attention. The Cloak of Levitation is holding Peter’s bottle of juice, while said baby is sitting on the man’s chest. It’s a strange sight to see. A once hyperactive teen had been turned into a child by magic. How unfortunate. How...uninteresting for the Sorcerer Supreme. Without a doubt, this is a simple fix. A fix even Loki can do.

Turning his gaze to the five other children in the room, Stephen sighs. And these were Earth’s Mightiest Heroes? Now they're a bunch of small kids that can’t even be left alone in a room by themselves. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Much to the Sorcerer's annoyance. Or was it amusement? One can never tell with a character like Strange.

“So, a package arrived and it was opened without caution. Then they were turned into children and a baby. Is that correct?” Stephen set the cup on the table and rubbed his hands. A dull ache starting to creep up.

“Yes.” Pepper nodded.

“And they call themselves ‘Earth’s mightiest Heroes’, how dumb they were.” Stephen sighs, shaking his head.

“Well, you did miss Stark swan dive.” Loki wheezed, wiping a tear from his eyes. It may have only been an hour after Tony had fainted, but Loki still found it funny to laugh about.

Stephen raised a brow. “And why did he do that?”

“Peter called him—” Pepper started to say, but is interrupted by a baby.

“Daddy!”

Peter’s whine is loud and one can easily tell that he’s not very happy about Tony being unconscious. If the little bounce and pulling at the man’s shirt is anything to tell by. The Cloak tires to gain the child’s attention. But it appears that said spiderling is not interested in interruptions. Pepper sighs and walks over to the little spider boy. Meanwhile, Loki chuckles under his breath. Stephen sighs, it seems the only mature ones are him and the CEO.

“He said it again.” Loki snorts.

“Hmmm, funny.” Stephen’s voice is dry and humorless. Why was he contacted again? Why is he dealing with this? This isn’t even his problem.

“It is!” Loki huffed, noticing the blank tone of the Sorcerer. Did this guy not know how to have fun? “The voice has it saved.”

“Voice?" Stephen hums, a brow raised again.

“That would be me, Mr. Strange.” Jarvis answers. “I’m sir’s A.I. I run the tower.”

The sudden voice of the A.I. causes Strange to jump in his seat. This causes the cloak to become aware of its master instantly. The cloak turns it’s collar to its master. In normal response, the sentient fabric would have rushed to it's master’s aid. And at this moment it is ready to aid, but it can tell that that’s not necessary. So the cloak floats near the woman holding the baby. The corners of the cloak holding the bottle of juice dutifully.

Once Strange had calmed his heart and breathing, his eyes turn to the cloak. A sigh and a wave of his hand let the magical outerwear know that he’s ok. The cloak visibility relaxing, the collar giving a small shutter. Like it’s giving a breath of relief. It then turns its attention to Peter, since the said boy is reaching an arm out to the cloth. Stephen picks up his cup of tea and sips at it while leaning into the couch.

“It’s Doctor Strange, not Mr. Strange,” Stephen says as he finishes his tea, seeming to ignore what the A.I. had said moments ago.

“Understood.” Jarvis states. Stephen nods at this.

“Tony said there’s a spell that’s been placed on the powder that came from the package.” Pepper brings the Sorcerer's attention back to the problem at hand.

“Odin took my powers away. So, I can’t reverse it.” Loki grumbles. Nice one Odin, the one time Loki needs his magic and it’s been snatched from him like a baby losing its candy.

“So, that’s why you called me?” Stephen asks, voice monotone. Though there’s a hint of amusement. So that’s why this spell wasn’t reversed sooner.

“You going to help or not?” Loki snarled. The Norse being is not in the mood to be laughed at. Though, he’ll laugh at someone else’s misery.

“Mom’s mad.” Clint snickered, hiding behind Loki’s leg.

Stephen felt an eyebrow raise. Mom? The god of mischief is called mom! The urge to laugh is strong, but the Sorcerer can keep it down. Though barely. The fact that one of the children had called Loki mom is a very funny concept. Do the others call him mom too? This may be more interesting than what Strange had first thought.

“Mom?” The corner of the male’s lips pulls up.

A hiss leaves Loki’s lips. “Say something and I’ll send you free-falling.”

Strange felt his lips pull further, a smirk forming. The cloak catches his eye and the fabric shakes its collar. Clearing the levitating outerwear is not amused like its master. A shame really, this is very entertaining to the master of the mystic arts. And it seems he’s not the only one.

“Mom’s mad now.” Clint has a large smile on his face. Seems this child likes to cause trouble.

“That’s not funny, Clint.” Steve chased Clint. Even as a child the super-soldier had that ‘don’t make me give a speech’ in his tone.

“Boys, stop.” Loki snapped.

The two kids nodded and zipped their lips. Natasha had a bored expression, the child leaned on Pepper’s leg. Meanwhile, Peter had been transferred to Loki’s arms, the baby happily nibbling on the God’s shirt. Bruce is peeking out from Loki’s leg with a curious expression. Wide brown eyes blinking at the Sorcerer. Thor is laying on an armchair, sleeping. If the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is anything to go by.

“I agree, you’re mom.” Stephen snickered.

Loki scrunched his nose in annoyance. But this then his face light up. “Oh look at the time. I have somewhere to be.” The god smiles at Stephen. “Thanks for babysitting.”

“Hey! I didn’t—” Stephen stammered as Peter's placed into his arms and Loki bolting for the elevator. The ache in his hands now becoming painful. He isn’t able to hold things for long. Let alone a baby.

“Mr. Loki is no longer in the building, Doctor Strange,” Jarvis stated as Strange was about to get up.

The sorcerer sighs and leans back into the couch, his hands trembling in pain. Though a sigh of relief is heard as the cloak helps hold the baby spider. The sympathetic look from Pepper does help the man relax. He wouldn’t be surprised if this has happened to her. Knowing the man that Tony is, it’s very likely.

The other kids blinked and looked around. They’re confused about what had happened. When did Loki have to leave? Where did he leave too? And these strange man is there babysitter? When was all this set up? They looked at Pepper and she was shaking her head. It seems that she was not amused by what happened.

“Well, that’s great,” Stephen grumbles, slumping. He doesn’t have the time for this.

“Yeah, he’s dating me.”

All heads turn to the voice that had spoken. Tony is now sitting up on the couch he had once been laying on. The man’s hair is disheveled and his face is filled with tiredness. Stephen feels the same as Tony looks. And having a babbling baby in his ear isn’t helping the sorcerer’s train of thought. He had to study the spell on the powder and find a reverse spell. But that means he has to go to SHIELD and find where they have this package at. All Stephen wanted was to get something warm for lunch and it seems that’s too much to ask for.

“And that’s concerning.” Stephen scoffs, annoyance written on his face.

“You’ll get used to it,” Pepper says as she places her head in her hand.

“Want to take this one off of me?” Stephen motions to the baby gerbiling on him.

Tony snickers as he sees peter is drooling on the other man’s robes. At least it isn’t his shirt that has globs of baby drool on it. If one was not the wiser, Stephen could have been mistaken for the baby’s father. And the sorcerer’s tired expression did add to the image. Poor Stephen, what had Loki dragged him into?

“You look like a dad with that face.” Tony chuckles, didn’t help that the kids were nodding in agreement too.

Stephen blinked and huffed. Shaking his head, the former surgeon sighs. Why him? What did he do to have to deal with this? “Do you want my help? If you do, then please take the baby off of me.”

“Fine, fine. Spoiled sport.” Tony stood up and walked over to the other couch. Once Peter saw him the baby smiled and giggled. Holding his arms out to the older man. “Come here, Petey.”

Stephen sighed as the baby is removed from his person, his arms and hands relaxing in relief. “Thank you.”

Tony nodded, he turned to Peter and made a silly face. This made the baby giggle. “Hey, there little guy.”

Stephen sighs and leans into the cloak. He’s tired, oh so tired. Stephen had not slept in about two and a half days and last night the sanctum had been attacked. And he’s running on empty. Though the tea had cream in it, it’s not enough to hold back the pain of hunger. His stomach tightens in protest of no food.

“Sir, Doctor Strange seems to be suffering from a severe lack of sleep.” Jarvis alerted Tony to the condition of the Sorcerer.

“Yeah, Jar. I kind of had a feeling.” Tony chuckled. Of course, he’d know when someone looked like the walking dead. He, himself is a pro at it.

“Ok, wizard,” Tony says as he adjusts Peter in his arms. “Take a nap. The last thing we need is something happening to you.”

“Normally, I’d disagree with someone like you Stark.” Stephen snorted. He’ll let the wizard comment slide for now. “But this time I have too. Seeming as I’m the only one that can fix this.”

“Right!” Tony explained. “Jarvis set up a guest room.”

“Of course, Sir,” Jarvis replied.

#toddler madness fic #toddler madness part 9 #toddler madness chapter 9 #chap 9: too tired for this #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #Tony Stark fanfiction #stephen strange fanfic #pepper potts fanfic #pepper potts #tony stark #stephen strange #Loki Laufeyson #loki (marvel)#long post #long post tw

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septembersung · 6 years ago

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I spent most of the last two months thinking through my educational philosophy in a concrete way - tying it all together, seeing how far we’ve come, and where I want to go over the next year. I’ve finished final revisions to method, schedule, and content, and starting in May we’re ready to launch the revisions. My oldest would be starting public school kindergarten this fall if we were going that route, so our start-early-take-it-easy trial year is nearly over, and it is such a good feeling to see all these ducks in a row (and so far ahead of the legal paperwork deadlines!)

I’ve finally gotten over the feeling that I have to prove myself, which is almost as much of a relief as being able to clearly and succinctly articulate what we’re doing here and why. Under the cut is my thinking-out-loud: a general summary and a where-we-are-now overview.

Our homeschool, now under the patronage of St. Boniface, is a Catholic, holistic, classical liberal arts education for all ages. (That means everyone’s part of school, even the baby, many subjects are taught together, and we don’t have “vacation” from learning.) Our year-round structure is divided into four terms, each named each after a concurrent feast or season: June - Aug is Pentecost Term; Sept - Nov is Michaelmas Term; Dec - Feb is Christmas Term; and we are currently in Easter Term, March - May.

My new elevator speech, hastily prepared a few days ago when I suddenly realized I was going to get grilled by extended family members during Easter Sunday get-togethers, is, “We are homeschooling in the Catholic, classical liberal arts tradition, with some Charlotte Mason influences.” Although depending on who’s asking it was wiser to say, “We’re homeschooling with a classical program.” That’s what most people, family and acquaintances alike, are looking for after all - they don’t know what a ‘Catholic classical liberal arts education’ is or who Charlotte Mason was, and more importantly, they don’t care. And most of our family, while verbally in general supportive of homeschooling, are old-school evangelicals who have a deep distrust if not outright hatred of the Church and anything tainted with even a faint resemblance of the Faith. So what they really want to know is, “how much of a weirdo are you??” Well, we’re definitely Weird (can’t help it, being tradition-minded Catholics and all,) but yes we are using a “real” curriculum, thanks for asking, and I just won’t mention the curriculum we’ve taken as a guide is named after our Blessed Mother.

Anyway. In familiar, contemporary terms, I have a kindergartener (5), a preschooler (nearly 4), a toddler (2), and an infant. But the ”kindergartener” is working anywhere from a K to a 5th grade level in various subjects, the “preschooler” from a K to 3rd level, and the toddler at a preschool level. It turns out grade level really doesn’t matter all that much.

Why do they seem so advanced? It’s a combination of being bright kids, who are learning together, and directly with mom and dad, who are given real material to work with - and all that compared against the severely lackluster contemporary federal standards we’re familiar with. Don’t get me wrong: they’re all definitely bright kids! I’m very, very proud of them. And I strongly suspect Benedict and Mary fall in the “gifted” spectrum. (As someone who was cursed with that label early on and lived with the fallout all through public school, I’ve given the issue sober reflection.) But they don’t seem to be prodigies, and I firmly believe that any reasonably bright child given a substantial, nurturing home education is going to show up on the very high end of contemporary public school rubrics; analysis of the test data certainly supports that intuition. But I digress.

With the classical foundation and structure as a given, I’ve borrowed as useful “tools” some concepts and approaches from Charlotte Mason, and use Mother of Divine Grace’s booklist, textbooks, and breakdown of the classical method as a template. With those complementary tools we’re building a tailored curriculum within our family culture.

Thus the theory. Where are we actually at now?

As a dutiful (would-be) Benedictine oblate, I build our day around the Divine Office. I say as much as I can and for the most part expect the kids to say our family morning offering, and then Tertia (9am), Sexta (12pm), and Nona (3pm). Evenings are hard for us because of Husband’s schedule so I waffle on whether to have them say Vespers or Compline, but even on the “worst” of evenings we do our own bedtime prayers. Other family devotions, including the rosary, come and go in a more or less regular rotation. Ideally we do most of our academics and some read alouds in the morning, cook and bake between 10-12, spend lots of time outdoors, have teatime with our baked goods after Nona, and then somehow muddle our way between dinner, Offices, stories, cleaning up ourselves and the house, and bedtime.

For Holy Week and Triduum we were staying with family so we focused on family time and on living our faith as best we could while not at home. In one way it’s good, because we are just a short (comparatively) drive from an FSSP church; in another way it’s difficult, because the extended family looks askance at our Catholicity.

At home again for the Octave of Easter, we’ve set aside the schedule and “academics” (such as phonics and math drills) to let our interests lead us where they will. Sort of in unschooling fashion, though I try to retain the basic structure of our ideal day, as outlined above. ((Although I have time to write this all out today because I’m sick enough to be couch-ridden so mostly it’s been “go play outside, come in when you’re hungry, no I can’t read to you I can barely talk.” But all signs point to getting back up to speed before the week is out.)) (((One reason I love the year round four term cycle is we can have relaxed days and sick days like this, and “take off” for high holy days like Octaves - and there is absolutely zero worry about “losing time” or “falling behind.” But I digress, again.)))

Before/at the start of each term I make a core book list, which encompasses chapter books, reference/encyclopedia-style books, workbooks, and similar. We add to it as we go, and occasionally drop a book or quit early to save for later. Frequently I start the next term’s list early so as not to lose track of great books we just don’t have room for at the moment, so I’m in the middle of Pentecost Term’s list right now.) Some books carry over from term to term, or even year to year (e.g. Book of Virtues.)

Rather than daily lesson plans, our goals are now in whole books, sections of, and skills to master, and I record what we actually do each day instead of what I’d like to do. At least that’s the record keeping method I’m switching to beginning May 1st. I’m filling in my lesson plan book with subject headings. Then in each box I’ll write down what we actually did for that subject on that day. I will also keep going with my notebook (or more realistically speaking, the typed file) where I write everything out in more comprehensive detail.

My list of “subjects” looks like this; I’ve included the sub-headings in parentheses:

memorization (poems, songs, prayers)

music (playing and listening, )

penmanship (MODG handwriting books, tracing books, free writing/drawing/coloring in many mediums on many surfaces)

literature (read alouds)

nonfiction (read alouds)

reading (phonics, readers)

math (Abeka K drills, MODG PK math, general practice)

social studies (history, geography)

life skills (cooking, chores, etc)

foreign language (spanish, latin, asl)

science (observation, journaling, scrapbooking, reading, experiments)

handcrafts (drop spindles, little looms, pre-sewing skills)

religion (catechism, prayer, Scripture, etc)

astronomy (constellations, telescope use, solar system, history of, etc)

art (appreciation, making)

husbandry (growing things) ((and someday we’ll be able to raise animals))

The beauty of this division is it’s easier to keep track of all we’re really accomplishing. So many books and practices work for more than one thing; e.g., learning a traditional hymn (bonus if it’s actually part of the Office!) goes in Latin, music, Religion, and memorization. Now I can make quick notes of things we’ve done and easily see what we’re accomplishing and what might be getting put on the back burner.

Booklist for Easter term (so far):

Literature (excluding picture books*): Farmer Boy Little House on the Prairie Black Ships Before Troy: The Story of the Iliad The Wanderings of Odysseus: The Story of the Odyssey The Boxcar Children #2: Surprise Island The Boxcar Children #3: The Yellow House Mystery Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle (#1) The Amelia Bedelia Treasury (vols. 1 & 2) The King of the Golden City: An Allegory for Children A Child’s Book of Myths (audiobook, physical copy for illustrations)

*Picture books are not listed individually because we use the MODG lists, PK - 1st, with additions, comprehensively. We’ve about exhausted the PK and K lists and are beginning to move into the 1st grade list. We read these picture books at will throughout the year, sometimes more frequently and sometimes less.

“Spine” books, Nonfiction, anthologies, reference, hands-on, etc: Discovering Our World: A Course in Science for the Middle Grades (1937), units 1 & 2 St Joseph First Communion Catechism Little Angel Catholic Readers, Book A Book of Virtues Grimm’s Fairy Tales The Harp and the Laurel Wreath Abridged & Illustrated Gibbons’ Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire Nature in America Cathedrals and Churches of Europe DK Eyewitness: Plants Sister Wendy’s The Story of Painting (paired with the DVD) Pioneer Farm Cooking by Gunderson (a cookbook) The Story of Great Inventions by Elmer Ellsworth Burns (1910) Bach picture book biography for children Mozart picture book biography for children

The tl;dr of the complexity of the issue has been how to make education a normal, daily thing, that’s truly comprehensive, in a family setting with a variety of ages and abilities and interests - without “doing school” in a way that makes it a drag for the kids (because who likes being regimented that way?? nobody!) but without being so loosey-goosey that I have no idea where we are or should be. This breakdown and method, which we’ve been half-doing for a while and are now going to give a long good try for the next twelve months, is as close to perfect as I can get it at this stage in our lives.

This post started out as a booklist and turned into a manifesto... and I’m not even surprised. Or bothered. Viva la homeschooling!

#my homeschooling tag

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7-obsessions · 6 years ago

Text

The Concept of a Mystery

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305648

The Department of Mysteries was a place few people ever dreamed of working; it took a hardened disposition to feel at home in a place that would never wholly make sense and an even stronger will to never talk about what exists in the bowels of the Ministry. Some details had inevitably slipped out, but the vital secrets stayed safe and sound with a tight knit crew of Unspeakables.

Luckily, work matters could be discussed among the Unspeakables themselves. Unluckily, Hermione had failed to create any friendships with her colleagues. She found them to be a slimy, untrustworthy group of people who seemed to have nonexistent lives outside of Level 9 of the Ministry...or a select few who could find work nowhere else in the Ministry after the War. Hermione was definitely not part of the latter—she had job offers pouring in from every job in the wizarding world that she could imagine—and she like to believe she wasn’t part of the former. Yet, the longer she worked in the Department, the less time she spent with friends or family or doing anything remotely non-work related. Her drive to learn everything about the wizarding world had overrun her whole life after she realized just how little she knew once she began uncovering mysteries.

Hermione, presently, was pondering one of the most mysterious projects that had wandered across her desk. Sometimes things just showed up around the Department, like every time a new prophecy was made it appeared in the Hall of Prophecies ready to be catalogued. Some things that showed up were more complex and completely unexpected, like the shimmering black shroud that was encased in a protective bubble hovering in the middle of her office. The project file lay on her desk, actually it was more of a single sheet that simply said:

Project 05292001A

Discovered: 6:25am, Entrance Chamber

Identity: Unknown

Task: Determine what this object is, how it got here and why. Further instructions dependant on initial findings.

Description: Black, sheer, somewhat glittery fabric. Appears as if it might be a shroud. Diagnostics show signs of unknown magical properties, possibly dark or ancient.

Notes: Recommended to NOT TOUCH until initial findings are complete as status of object is unknown. Partner will be assigned by end of day. Do not complete any research or testing unless with partner.

“Hermione, I see you’ve gotten the project file. Good. The Minister wishes to meet with you regarding the project as soon as you’ve read the file,” the rich, no-nonsense voice of her superior, Gwendolyn Walker, spoke from Hermione’s doorway.

“Considering this took less than a minute to read and I’ve already been in the office for twenty minutes, I’d say I’m already late. So tell me, what’s up with this project? First, I come into the office and discover I’ve been given this project with no brief or warning. Second, I find out that you’re assigning me a partner, which I explicitly said I would not do when I took this job. And now, the Minister wants to talk to me. He never gets involved. What the bloody hell is going on this morning, Gwen?”

“Listen, I don’t know much more than you, I didn’t find the object. Robbards found it, and I wasn’t in yet and you know how much he enjoys subverting my procedures. For some bloody reason, he chose to discuss it with the Minister and Kingsley absolutely demanded you were on the project. Now he wants to see you, so go, make this easier for all of us.”

Hermione made her way to the Minister’s office whilst dreaming of all the ways to make Robbards suffer for this. Hermione doesn’t work with partners and now her one rule of employment was thrown to the wind because of that insipid little man.

“Hermione, good to see you.”

“Minister Shacklebolt,” Hermione said shortly.

“I know you’re irritated, but let me explain. Something is happening within the Department of Mysteries that nobody understands. I’ve gotten weird and honestly concerning reports from almost all personnel down there. I have a hunch that this object relates to it all. I went and saw it and felt the magical signature radiating off of it before it was contained, it’s something I’ve never felt before. I need someone I can trust on this project and that’s you. It’s protocol that you work with a partner on identification cases, sorry but I will not budge on that. It’s a matter of safety. However, I need someone with experience in the Darker Arts on this case, as well.”

“What are you saying, Kingsley? Who are you pairing me with?”

“I hope one day you forgive me for this. The other one I’m assigning to this case is Bellatrix Black.”

“Are you kidding me?! Matter of safety, my arse. I have half a mind to hand in my resignation immediately. Making me work with a partner is already bad enough, but making me work with her...that’s just cruel and unusual punishment and I’ll never forgive you for this.”

“If you must resign, then I’ll wish you well. But this is the most interesting case you’ve gotten in a while. I can see it in your eyes that you won’t walk away from this. Go home for the day and regroup. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kingsley was right. Hermione couldn’t give this up now until she found answers. So, she found her in her office early the next morning awaiting Bellatrix to show up. The first two days passed surprisingly dully. Bellatrix chose not to engage in any way with Hermione, except to explicitly discuss their preliminary findings. Which were none. The object didn’t respond to any of the standard diagnostic spells or even some of the more obscure spells Bellatrix knew. It seemed to absorb the magic, neutralizing it at first contact.

On the third day, Bellatrix started suggesting some decidedly non-protocol ideas.

“We need to take it out of the containment shield and try these tests again.”

“Absolutely not, Black, it could be volatile outside of it.”

“It doesn’t seem to be much of anything. For all we’ve discovered thus far, this could be some Muggle’s funeral shroud and we’re treating it as if it’s going to blow us to bits at first chance.”

Hermione stood her ground for a couple more hours, but finally relented to trying other means to research.

“If this goes south, I’m holding you personally responsible...as I do for most things, Lestrange.”

“The name is Black and I frankly could not care less for what some Mudblood chit holds me responsible for,” Bellatrix spoke with more venom than Hermione had heard in the two years they had worked in the same department.

Bellatrix cancelled the containment shield and began running the diagnostics again. All magic was neutralized just as before.

“See, it really is just some useless piece of fabric. Nothing to be scared of, Muddy,” Bellatrix cackled.

“It’s not just a piece of fabric. A normal piece of fabric would react in some way to the magic cast at it, at least we’d see some scorch marks. Bellatrix you need to take this seriously.”

“Oh, I am taking this very seriously, so serious that I’m gonna find which grave this came from,” Bellatrix countered as she reached out to touch the material.

“Bellatrix! Stop don’t touch it!”

Bellatrix grabbed it. “AAAH,” a guttural scream emerged from ruby red lips.

“BELLATRIX!” Hermione lunged at the woman grabbing her upper arm, too scared to think of the consequences.

The scream turned into a full blown belly laugh. “Didn’t know you cared so much, Muddy. See it’s nothing to worry about, just some seamstress’ scraps.”

“Merlin, Bellatrix that is not funny in any way. You could’ve been hurt, anything could have happened. Do you not have a shred of self-preservation,” Hermione spoke, never removing her hand, closer to the woman than she’d been since she was pinned beneath her getting carved.

“I have more self-preservation than you can imagine. I survived two wars and Azkaban, pet.”

The two women just looked at one another, drinking in the last couple minutes. Hermione felt a blush creeping up her chest and into her cheeks, embarassed by how she dove to save this woman who she should hate. Does hate.

Hermione was just about to concede that maybe it wasn’t as dangerous as everyone thought it to be, when an unexplainable chill crawled up her spine. The hairs on her arms were standing on end. She looked up at Bellatrix and saw an uneasiness in her eyes right as the floor gave way and the women were flung out into the ether.

The women found themselves suspended in an inky void; there was no source of light, but somehow they could see each other. There were no walls or floor, only nothingness. No noises were heard, nothing tactile in this space, there was nothing but each other. And pressure. The pressure was so intense that it hurt to draw in each breath; it felt like they were in the middle of apparating with no end in sight.

“Bellatrix what happened,” Hermione spoke, but her voice sounded faint and muffled as if spoken from a great distance.

“I don’t know. Where are we?”

“How should I know where we are. You were the one who had to act like a bloody toddler and got us thrown here.”

“Okay. Calm down. We’ll just apparate out of here, take my arm.”

Hermione took her arm and waited, “well get us out of here.”

“I can’t. My magic isn’t working. You try.”

Hermione tried to focus on apparating, but the only thing it did was increase the pressure around her chest. “No, no, no, no, no. We can’t get out. What are we going to do.”

“Die of dehydration, I imagine. Maybe asphyxiation if this pressure gets any worse,” Bellatrix said, completely disinterested, looking at her nails as she talked.

“Good god, Bellatrix, don’t you care at all?”

“Not particularly.”

The two sat in silence for a while, as much as one could sit while suspended in a state of no gravity. Finally, Hermione couldn’t take it any longer. “We need to move, to try and find a way out. We can’t just accept this fate.”

“Okay.” No fight was put up from Bellatrix, strange.

The two began to move through the thick and pervasive air, moving in a half walk, half swim. The darkness was everywhere, there was not a single thing around except for them. And the cold, the more they moved, the colder it got. They kept exploring the seemingly unending space for a long time. There was no way to determine how long they had been in this space, with no sun to track the hours and no magic to tell the time.

“Welcome to space!” a loud disembodied voice boomed all around them. Bellatrix and Hermione looked at one another with a glimmer of fear behind chocolate and caramel eyes, respectively.

“For too long, you wizards have tried to control and harness the horrible place you call the Department of Mysteries. I existed before the Ministry. There is no department, it is only me the Mystery. You are in Space. Not outer space as you ignorant humans have decided is the meaning of space within the bowels of your marble halls. No you are in the concept of Space. There is nothing physical here, but you. However, the immaterial can not be detached so easily, so you still have some tools at your disposal. You can be certain that Time is still passing, you still have Thought, and you could still Love if you were so inclined, but be aware that Death still reigns here. As in every other circumstance in life, you have two options: survive or die. As with all others who have wandered into my domain, I would argue you will probably die, nobody has survived yet. Eloise Mintumble got closer than most, but you know of her demise. She didn’t tumble through time, she tumbled into my domain; she found a way out, but not before Death sunk its teeth into her. Enjoy your time here, or don’t. You have one other choice, accept death now or stay and fight. Death now will be easy, painless, a greeting of a long awaited friend. Choosing to fight and failing will lead to a death worse than you can imagine. Chose to fight and win, I will grant you knowledge and power of the Mystery. Will you die nobly or will you die foolishly, Bellatrix Black and Hermione Granger?”

“We’re fighting. We will get out of here. You cannot scare us, I’ve looked death in the eyes and won before, but you won’t even deign to look us in the eyes,” Hermione exclaimed passionately, the fight that hadn’t been present since the War, coming out in full force.

“Hermione, we cannot possibly win,” Bellatrix was staring at her slack-jawed in shock.

“No, perhaps we cannot, but I will not die a coward,” Hermione looked at Bellatrix and for some reason felt like they had a greater chance than the others before them, “I’m fighting and I hope you’ll fight alongside of me.”

“Fine. Let it be known that Bellatrix Black is no coward in the face of fear. We shall fight.”

“Foolish girls, let the fun begin.”

#bellamione discord #bellamione fic #Bellamione #bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #Hermione Granger #kinda horror #will be more horror in part 2 #harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction

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