#the once and future laird

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 2 EPISODE 08 || THE FOX'S LAIR ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

I snuggled deeper into the comfort of the goose-down bed and turned toward sleep again, hearing with half an ear the baby’s whining, interspersed with hiccuping sobs, and Jamie’s deep, tuneless humming, the sound as comforting as the thought of beehives in the sun.

“Eh, wee Kitty, ciamar a tha thu? Much, mo naoidheachan, much.”

The sound of them went up and down the passage, and I dropped further toward sleep, but kept half-wakeful on purpose to hear them. One day perhaps he would hold his own child so, small round head cradled in the big hands, small solid body cupped and held firm against his shoulder. And thus he would sing to his own daughter, a tuneless song, a warm, soft chant in the dark. The constant small ache in my heart was submerged in a flood of tenderness. I had conceived once; I could do so again. Faith had given me the gift of that knowledge, Jamie the courage and means to use it. My hands rested lightly on my breasts, cupping the deep swell of them, knowing beyond doubt that one day they would nourish the child of my heart. I drifted into sleep with the sound of Jamie’s singing in my ears. Sometime later I drifted near the surface again, and opened my eyes to the light-filled room.

The moon had risen, full and beaming, and all the objects in the room were plainly visible, in that flat, two-dimensional way of things seen without shadow.

The baby had quieted, but I could hear Jamie’s voice in the hall, still speaking, but much more quietly, hardly more than a murmur. And the tone of it had changed; it wasn’t the rhythmic, half-nonsense way one talks to babies, but the broken, halting speech of a man seeking the way through the wilderness of his own heart.

Curious, I slipped out of bed and crept quietly to the door. I could see them there at the end of the hall.

Jamie sat leaning back against the side of the window seat, wearing only his shirt. His bare legs were raised, forming a back against which small Katherine Mary rested as she sat facing him in his lap, her own chubby legs kicking restlessly over his stomach.

The baby’s face was blank and light as the moon’s, her eyes dark pools absorbing his words. He traced the curve of her cheek with one finger, again and again, whispering with heartbreaking gentleness.

He spoke in Gaelic, and so low that I could not have told what he said, even had I known the words. But the whispering voice was thick, and the moonlight from the casement behind him showed the tracks of the tears that slid unregarded down his own cheeks. It was not a scene that bore intrusion. I came back to the still-warm bed, holding in my mind the picture of the laird of Lallybroch, half-naked in the moonlight, pouring out his heart to an unknown future, holding in his lap the promise of his blood.[...]

~~~

“He and his niece seem to have got on well together.”

The picture of them came back to me, Jamie talking in earnest, low tones to the child, tears slipping down his face. Jenny nodded, watching my face.

“Aye. I thought perhaps they’d comfort each other a bit. He doesna sleep well these days?” Her voice held a question. “No,” I answered softly. “He has a lot on his mind.” “Well he might,” she said, glancing at the bed behind me. Ian was gone already, risen at dawn to see to the stock in the barn. The horses that could be spared from the farming—and some that couldn’t—needed shoeing, needed harness, in preparation for their journey to rebellion.

“You can talk to a babe, ye ken,” she said suddenly, breaking into my thought.

“Really talk, I mean. Ye can tell them anything, no matter how foolish it would sound did ye say it to a soul could understand ye.” “Oh. You heard him, then?” I asked.

She nodded, eyes on the curve of Katherine’s cheek, where the tiny dark lashes lay against the fair skin, eyes closed in ecstasy. “Aye. Ye shouldna worrit yourself,” she added, smiling gently at me. “It isna that he feels he canna talk to you; he knows he can. But it’s different to talk to a babe that way. It’s a person; ye ken that you’re not alone. But they dinna ken your words, and ye don’t worry a bit what they’ll think of ye, or what they may feel they must do. You can pour out your heart to them wi’out choosing your words, or keeping anything back at all—and that’s a comfort to the soul.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as though this were something that everyone knew. I wondered whether she spoke that way often to her child. The generous wide mouth, so like her brother’s, lifted slightly at one side. “It’s the way ye talk to them before they’re born,” she said softly. “You’ll know?”

I placed my hands gently over my belly, one atop the other, remembering.

“Yes, I know.”

She pressed a thumb against the baby’s cheek, breaking the suction, and with a deft movement, shifted the small body to bring the full breast within reach. “I’ve thought that perhaps that’s why women are so often sad, once the child’s born,” she said meditatively, as though thinking aloud. “Ye think of them while ye talk, and you have a knowledge of them as they are inside ye, the way you think they are. And then they’re born, and they’re different—not the way ye thought of them inside, at all. And ye love them, o’ course, and get to know them the way they are … but still, there’s the thought of the child ye once talked to in your heart, and that child is gone. So I think it’s the grievin’ for the child unborn that ye feel, even as ye hold the born one in your arms.” She dipped her head and kissed her daughter’s downy skull. “Yes,” I said. “Before … it’s all possibility. It might be a son, or a daughter. A plain child, a bonny one. And then it’s born, and all the things it might have been are gone, because now it is.” She rocked gently back and forth, and the small clutching hand that seized the folds of green silk over her breast began to loose its grip. “And a daughter is born, and the son that she might have been is dead,” she said quietly. “And the bonny lad at your breast has killed the wee lassie ye thought ye carried. And ye weep for what you didn’t know, that’s gone for good, until you know the child you have, and then at last it’s as though they could never have been other than they are, and ye feel naught but joy in them. But ’til then, ye weep easy.” “And men …” I said, thinking of Jamie, whispering secrets to the unhearing ears of the child. “Aye. They hold their bairns, and they feel all the things that might be, and the things that will never be. But it isna so easy for a man to weep for the things he doesna ken.”

35 MOONLIGHT~DRAGONFLY IN AMBER

... tha obair agad. 'se an obair sin, a chaileag, gum fàs u làidir agas sona. Na diochuimhnich......

...have a role to play. Yer role, wee lass, is to grow. strong and happy. Ne'er forget...

... gu bheil do theaghlach timcheall ort, fad na tide, fiù 's nach bith sinn ri fhaicinn. Do sheanar 's do sheanmhair, mo bhràthair Uilleam, mi fhéin, Sorcha. Tha sinn san fhiodh, sa chloich agas ann an gach fuaim's fàileadh an àite seo..

... yer family is all around ye, all the time, even when ye canna see us. Yer grandsire and grandmother, Uncle Willie, me, Aunt Claire. We're in the wood and the stone, and the sounds and smells of this place...

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! so according to my close friend who’s also my beta reader, i apparently have amazing descriptions when it comes to character movement and dialogue but what i lack is describing my surroundings, and according to her it makes her only able to imagine the characters ‘in a void’. how do i make my writing more immersive without constantly breaking character action to describe the surroundings (which seems to be all that i can do to avoid that effect)?

i know i’m probably struggling with this because i myself am the author so i can imagine my character surroundings perfectly fine, so how can i still spot and avoid this in the future?

Incorporating Surroundings Into Description

There are three tricks you can use to help you incorporate your character's surroundings into the scene:

1 - Incorporate description of the setting into the beginning of the scene to set the stage for where everything is about to unfold. For example:

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, 2nd paragraph of chapter three, after Katniss describes being led into the Justice Building:

Once inside, I'm conducted to a room and left alone. It's the richest place I've ever been in, with thick, deep carpets and a velvet couch and chairs...

Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon, beginning of scene two, chapter five:

The laird received me in a room at the top of a flight of stone steps. It was a tower room, round, and rich with paintings and tapestries hung against the sloping walls...

2 - Have the characters interact with the environment throughout the scene. For example, your character could:

-- sit on furniture, peek inside a door, or look out a window -- notice decor items like photographs or paintings -- touch or fidget with an object, like skipping a rock on a lake

3 - Have the environment interact with your character throughout the scene:

-- change in weather or lighting and its effect on environment -- sounds or smells related to the environment -- movement or action related to the environment

So, using all three of these techniques... let's say this is a couple paragraphs in, after some exposition:

Andrea stepped onto the patio and marveled at the yard setup. Twenty-four chairs--twelve on each side of a white-carpeted aisle--were positioned in an arch facing the three-part trellis. Bright pink and deep purple flowers stood out against the white trellis, their green leafy tendrils and delicate petals draped daintily over the top of the arch. White fairy lights twinkled from the trellis and surrounding trees, and even in the golden sunlight of late afternoon, the effect was magical. At sunset, it would be breathtaking.

While the bridal party finished their own preparations, Andrea went to the bedroom where her child was putting on their wedding outfit. Outside, the low din of voices was beginning to build as the string quartet played soft music.

While Zen's best friend fussed with their hair, Andrea peeked outside to catch a glimpse of the spouse-to-be. They had chosen to wear a tuxedo with a short black skirt, and although they looked nervous, their eyes kept flickering to the house, and Andrea smiled, knowing their eyes would light up when they saw Zen in their amazing outfit.

So... this scene is going to be a wedding, and we set the stage early by describing the setup of the backyard wedding. In the next paragraph, we have the environment interact with our character by creating sound (string quartet, din of voices) which reminds the reader about the yard setup just beyond the bedroom. Finally, in the last paragraph, we have the POV character interact with the immediate environment (the bedroom) to peek outside and make observations that again root the reader in the outside environment (the wedding setup) but also reminds the reader that the character is currently inside the house, and the wedding will be outside the house.

By using all three of these tricks, you can avoid having your character exist in a void, because the setting is setup initially and actively exists for the reader throughout the scene.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[hrtwayne]

Her Royal Highness [Part Two] || Jenna Ortega

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Princess of Scotland!Reader (Your Royal Highness AU!)

Summary: After the annual Laird Family Ball, you and Jenna manage to sneak away for a few moments just to enjoy each other's company!

Note: This chapter was inspired by the book Her Royal Highness! (English is not my first language!!)

Warning: Mentions of kisses, casual conversations, and a possibly pre-established relationship!

Previous Chapter | MASTERLIST

The two-week suspension served only for your mother, the Queen of Scotland, to make you endure hours of train travel just to attend an annual ball you despised with every fiber of your being. Using a flimsy excuse that you didn’t want to go through it alone, you managed to convince Jenna to join you. The American girl stood beside you with her arms crossed, fiddling with the small amethyst stone of the silver pendant engraved with your initials on the back. The sight made her smile genuinely.

A pair of blue eyes, clear as a bright, cloudless sky, met Jenna's deep brown gaze. The radiant smile, complete with small dimples, made the blonde-haired girl shiver. Jenna rested her head on the blonde's shoulder, trying to absorb any warmth she could find—the winter in Scotland’s highest mountains had the Texan muttering curses under her breath.

The Laird Family’s castle, perched atop Scotland's tallest hill, combined its medieval charm with modern renovations, making the Texan feel oddly comforted. The blonde’s warm hands clung to the brunette’s waist as the latter grumbled about the sheer size of the place. The Laird chuckled softly, noticing Jenna’s wide-eyed expression.

“Scared?” the blonde teased, resting her chin on the brunette's shoulder, which was covered by a thick jacket.

"Actually, I'm surprised," Jenna said, intertwining her fingers with yours. "Won't your family mind seeing you with a girl?"

"Times have changed, my love," the Laird replied, pressing a kiss to the Texan’s rosy cheeks.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hall before a figure with nearly platinum hair appeared at the top of the staircase. A tall man with a charming smile descended gracefully, prompting the blonde-haired girl to release the brunette. A wide grin spread across the blonde’s lips, painted with cherry gloss, as she leapt into the man’s arms, leaving Jenna momentarily bewildered by the situation.

"Looks like you've grown a few inches," the man's Scottish accent filled the room. "Is this the girl Henry mentioned?"

"Well, yes," the Laird replied, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Hello, Miss...?" he inquired.

"Ortega, Jenna Ortega, sir," she replied, shaking the man’s hand.

"It’s a pleasure to meet the future Duchess of Scotland," he said with a knowing smile, watching as the girl’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

Jenna felt her heart racing as she noticed the mischievous smile on the blonde's lips. The sound of calm footsteps echoed from the staircase before an elegant woman descended, her gaze intimidating. Jenna swallowed hard, while the Laird kept her hands casually in the pockets of her jacket.

"Aren’t you going to hug your mother, S/n Laird?" the woman asked in a calm tone, prompting the girl to embrace her protectively. "You must be Jenna, right?"

The brunette nodded, her eyes pleading silently for reassurance from the Scottish girl.

"It’s good to finally meet the one who managed to get her in line," the woman remarked, watching as Jenna nodded nervously.

The sound of countless loud voices echoed throughout the room, but the two girls seemed submerged in their own little bubble. Once again, the blue-eyed girl found herself mesmerized by the beauty of the Texan. Jenna’s soft laughter was enough to make the Laird smile faintly. Even though they came from such different worlds, the Laird couldn’t deny it—she had never met anyone like Jenna.

An oddly comforting glimmer appeared in the Laird's eyes as she extended her hand toward the brunette, a silent invitation to follow her.

The Laird kept hold of Jenna’s hand as she led her through the dimly lit corridors of the grand castle. The tall, well-crafted windows added an air of security to the place. When they stopped in front of a pair of oak doors, the brunette furrowed her brow in curiosity.

A sweet scent filled the air as their hands remained intertwined. The blue-eyed girl focused on their surroundings while the Texan looked around with curiosity.

"What is this place?" Jenna asked, gesturing toward the room as the blonde shut the door behind them.

"An orangery," the Laird replied, lacing their fingers together again. "When I feel overwhelmed by the parties, I come here to clear my mind. Thankfully, because of you, I managed to kick that awful smoking habit."

"And why do your parents have an orangery inside the house?" the Texan asked, following her.

"My great-grandparents built this place," the blonde explained, brushing her fingers against a greenish orange. "Scotland is a very cold place, so we needed spaces like this to cultivate certain plants—and these oranges. They were even considered a luxury item at one point."

"So, if you had a special room like this, you must have been very, very rich?" Jenna murmured, watching the blonde nod. "Ahh, that’s interesting, Your Highness.

"A mischievous smile adorned the Texan's lips, painted with crimson lipstick. The Scot’s skilled hands rested on Jenna’s waist as their eyes locked onto one another—blue on brown, brown on blue. An intriguing connection seemed to spark between them.

"I want you to promise me something," Jenna said softly, her hand gently cupping the blonde’s rosy cheek. "No matter what happens, even if things get tough, you won’t go back to drinking or smoking, okay?"

"Alright, I’ll try," the Laird promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the Texan’s lips. "I think they’re already looking for us."

"I really think getting involved with a princess was a terrible idea," Jenna muttered, watching the blonde open the oak door with a teasing smirk.

[scotianostra]

On August 11th 1919 Andrew Carnegie, the Dunfermline-born steel industrialist and philanthropist, died. During the late 19th centuries, several entrepreneurs became famous due to their wealth and influence on society. Carnegie was mostly famous due to his reputation for philanthropy. When Andrew Carnegie died, they discovered a sheet of paper upon which he had written one of the major goals of his life: to spend the first half of his life accumulating money and to spend the last half of his life giving it all away. And he did! During the last 18 years of his life, he gave away around $350 million (roughly $6.5 billion in 2023), almost 90 percent of his fortune, to charities, I honestly can't see the likes of Bezos, Musk or Zuckerberg doing the same. I covered Carnegie's philanthropy in a previous post, this time I will take a look at his last will and testimony.

By the time of his death, Andrew Carnegie, despite his best efforts, had not been able to give away his entire fortune. He had distributed $350 million, but had $30 million left, which went into the Corporation’s endowment. Toward the end of his life, Carnegie, a pacifist, had a single goal: achieving world peace. He believed in the power of international laws and trusted that future conflicts could be averted through mediation. He supported the founding of the Peace Palace in The Hague in 1903, gave $10 million to found the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in 1910 to “hasten the abolition of international war,” and worked ceaselessly for the cause until the outbreak of World War I. He died, still brokenhearted about the failure of his efforts, in August 1919, two months after the signing of the Treaty of Versailles.

I couldn't find out about his will in the US, except he left almost everything to his wife, Louise, and there only child, Margaret.

In Scotland Carnegie’s estate, saw each labourer on the payroll at Skibo who had served more than two years was given $50 (about £12.50 at the time – the average annual wage for an agricultural labourer was about £46) and those who had served five years got $100.

His estate in Scotland was modest compared to that in New York. His will was made up almost entirely up of lists of people who paid duties to him as a laird, with labourers getting payments connected to length of service and crofters being remitted two years’ rent if of good standing, with a third year’s rent paid to all crofters for improvements to their homes.

He also left money to friends and relatives in Scotland., a sum of five thousand dollars to his cousins in Dunfermline about $78,543.75, that's over $61,500 .

The inventory of his estate in Scotland was presented at Edinburgh on 21st October 1920. It was modest compared to that recorded in New York with a value of £67,541, 8 shillings (s) and 2 pence (d) which would be in the region of £1.96 million today (2023)

Back in the states, after his death his daughter eventually had to sell the family townhome because it was too expensive to maintain. But that was it—the rest of his immense wealth went to his charitable causes and endowments.

You might think that that would cause some resentment on the part of his heirs, but they apparently all agreed to the arrangement well before Carnegie passed away.

Apparently he wrote his own Eptaph, he wanted it to read, “A Man Who Knew How to Enlist in His Services Better Men Than Himself.” His wishes were not upheld, however—his gravesite includes a relatively simple Celtic cross bearing his name, birthplace, and lifespan.

To end with Carnegie's charitable foundations continue to comtribute tio good causes today, Through Carnegie Corporation of New York, the innovative philanthropic foundation he established in 1911, his fortune has since supported everything from the discovery of insulin and the dismantling of nuclear weapons, to the creation of Pell Grants and Sesame Street.

Barely anything is left of Andrew’s personal fortune, which was once valued on par with the oil tycoon Rockefellers and the banking Morgan family. The 13 fourth-generation members of Andrew Carnegie’s lineage now have the self-made wealth of white collar professionals. Their children and grandchildren make up a large fifth generation and a growing sixth.

Linda Thorell Hills, one of Andrew Carnegie’s great granddaughters, said her family has “lived conservatively and privately,” noting that it is easier to blend in since they are all descendants of his only daughter and none live with the Carnegie last name. Still, she said they’re emboldened by his legacy.

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 2 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

The Highlanders

Synopsis

The time travellers arrive in Scotland just after the Battle of Culloden. The Second Doctor gains the trust of a small band of fleeing Jacobites by offering to tend to their wounded Laird, Colin McLaren. While Polly and the Laird's daughter, Kirsty, are away fetching water, he and the others are all captured by Redcoat troops commanded by Lieutenant Algernon Ffinch.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Power of the Daleks

Synopsis

Following the Doctor's renewal into a new, younger body, the TARDIS lands at an Earth colony on the planet Vulcan in the far future. Mistaken for an official Earth Examiner, the Doctor discovers that a scientist called Lesterson is attempting to reactivate three inanimate Daleks found in a crashed space rocket. The colonists refuse to heed the Doctor's dire warnings that the Daleks are dangerous. Once reactivated, the Daleks begin performing duties around the colony and so a rebel group plot to use these new "servants" to help them gain power. But in fact, the Daleks have sinister plans of their own...

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

[write-r-die]

By Tomorrow - Part 11

Masterlist

A/n: Hopefully this isn't garbage. Part 5 of Man's World is also in progress.

Henry felt satisfied and guilty in equal measure. Guilty enough to apologize, something he avoided at all costs. Though he supposed he’d apologized about Sybil losing her brother when they met.

A woman’s first time was never pleasant; her husband had no choice about hurting her the first time he took her to bed. But Henry should have at least had more time to prepare her. 

Henry believed above all things that a man shouldn’t hurt his family, particularly his wife, under any circumstance, and it weighed on him. Now she’ll work herself up into a fine state and be frightened of me again.

He certainly shouldn’t have left her alone in their cottage with only her racing thoughts for company. He wished at least that he could send Catherine to care for her until he returned, just so she wouldn’t be alone, but Catherine was certainly barricaded in her room in the keep by now. 

There were half a dozen unfamiliar horses in the courtyard being guarded by two Macleans; the Cavill warriors watching them looked less angry than bored. None of them acknowledged Henry as he went past; they didn’t trust the Macleans enough to take their eyes off them, even for a moment.

Henry slipped through the massive doors into the keep. Everyone looked up. 

There were three young men gathered by the table where the Maclean boy - no doubt their younger brother - lay. 

All three wore their yellow hair pulled back and though Henry wasn’t close enough to see their eyes, he knew they were all blue.

Alexander was easy to pick out, since he was the largest and surliest of the three. He and Henry had never spoken directly to each other or even been introduced, but they knew each other well.  It’s always wise to know one’s enemy, especially if the enemy in question is the future laird of an enemy clan. 

Cameron and Donal, the second and third oldest in Maclean’s large brood, respectively, seemed innocuous in comparison to their older brother. 

Cameron was a decent fellow. He always sought out Arran when all the clans came together for the highland games and was sure to pay his respects. He made a point to hold shallow but pleasant conversations with Henry. It was clear that he wished to end the feud between their clans and let peace reign, though Alexander would certainly never reconcile with the Cavills, and Alexander was expected to take his father’s place as laird. But the practice of tanistry - the same practice that would make Henry laird someday instead of one of Arran’s sons - could technically see Cameron elected instead.

Donal was rude and rash but constantly smiling. Alexander at least had the decency to look nasty. Donal just had one of those ridiculous smirks on his face at all times, like he knew just how much he was frustrating those around him and absolutely delighted in it.

The fourth of Laird Maclean’s sons, Ramsey, the only one with dark hair, was nowhere to be seen. Most likely, he’d stayed behind at the keep while his other brothers came to attend their youngest brother, Maclean’s fifth son. 

Ramsey was as nasty as Alexander and smiled as much as Donal. Something was broken inside him; it was clear in his eyes. They say he used to kill dogs for sport. Henry was relieved to see he’d been left behind.

Maclean had two daughters, too, but one was married off to a clan faraway, and the second died in childhood.

It seemed another insult to the Cavills that Laird Maclean should remarry and have so many children when Helen died delivering her only one.

Henry crossed to his uncle. Donal, not smiling for once, was the first to look back down at his baby brother. Cameron nodded subtly in greeting. Alexander continued to glare for a long while, his eyes only leaving Henry’s face to look at the crumpled fabric in his hand.

“Is it done?” Arran murmured. 

Henry grunted. 

“And . . . do you have the necessary proof?”

Henry didn’t grunt so much as growl, and he didn’t hold the fabric out to his uncle for inspection as he might be expected to. Instead he kept it clenched in a white-knuckled grip. 

No one was going to see it. It was private. Checking bedlinens for blood was an absurd tradition on its own, and Henry wasn’t going to broadcast what he was sure had been an incredibly uncomfortable experience for Sybil.

Henry wondered for a split second about Maclean’s bedlinens after his wedding night with Henry’s mother. 

Arran lowered his voice further. “And the lass – how is she?”

Henry just grunted again. 

He didn’t want to tell his uncle that she was overwhelmed and confused and probably frightened. Henry was supposed to be able to remove her burdens and eliminate her fear because that’s what husbands did, or at least what they ought to do, and he couldn’t, and now she was alone, which Sybil, of all people, should never be, and he couldn’t even send her Catherine. Catherine would know just what to do, be able to bridge whatever gap that had just opened up between them.

Henry endeavored to sound casual when he asked, “Where is Uncle Patrick?” 

“Finn came out of Catherine’s room to see what all the fuss was about. Catherine stepped out after him.” Arran settled his eyes on the eldest Maclean. “I told him to go back with them.”

Henry could imagine the situation. The Maclean boys had probably looked up at Catherine, and while Cameron’s gaze was surely respectful . . . Alexander’s certainly wasn’t.

The way he looked at her a few years ago when he saw her at the Highland Games – he was practically licking her.

Henry and Alexander had sparred after that, but had to be forcibly stopped when what was meant to be a friendly match turned too violent. Neither man had inflicted enough damage on the other to be satisfied.

“And Patrick agreed to just leave?” Henry asked.

“I insisted.”

Henry grunted. “Will the boy die?”

“He will if they don’t sever the leg,” Arran said. And he might still die if they couldn’t control the bleeding or if the wound caught an infection.

Henry grunted again.

“Laird,” Cameron called, approaching with measured steps.

“Cameron,” Arran replied. They clasped forearms in a show of good faith. Cameron would have offered his arm to Henry, too, but he was intensely focused on glaring at Alexander and Donal as they spoke quietly to one another.

Cameron’s eyes flickered to the fabric balled in Henry’s fist but wisely did not mention it. “May we borrow a wagon from you?”

“A wagon?”

“To bring him home.”

“If you think it wise,” Arran said carefully.

“I would not like to be in a strange place were I in his condition. He belongs at home.”

“You can’t move him in this condition,” Henry said. Arran and Cameron both seemed taken aback that he had actually spoken.

“No, we can’t,” Cameron said. “We know the leg must be removed,” he said reluctantly. “But I don’t want my brother to die in a strange place.”

Henry couldn't help but imagine himself in Cameron’s place, imagine that Will was lying helpless among strangers, or Hamish or Alistair were. He smothered that train of thought before his mind could conjure an image of Finn in such a state.

He would do anything for any of his cousins, but Finn – Finn was different. He was the heart of their family. He was the only person Henry allowed himself to love without reservation.

Cameron and Arran agreed that the best course of action was to amputate the leg here and get the bleeding under control before taking the boy back home. Donal and Alexander were in agreement, too, though they mostly refrained from joining in the conversation.

Henry moved to the edge of the hall where a servant had set out food and drink. He stood by the table as he ate, keeping his eyes trained on the Macleans.

Across the hall, Donal met his eye. As with Cameron, Donal’s gaze flicked to the scrap of linen still balled in Henry’s fist, but he allowed his gaze to linger a moment before dragging it back up to meet Henry’s. 

And he smirked.

****

Henry’s knuckles were bleeding where they’d made contact with the glass pane.

Glass was rare and expensive and he was stupid to break it, but it was either the glass or Donal Maclean’s smirking fucking face.

Donal was a right little shit and he wanted to get a rise out of Henry and it bloody well worked, but at least Henry had sought some privacy before he started breaking things - relative privacy, at least. He’d gone belowstairs, and in the short corridor from the stairs that ran between the barracks and the rooms of food stores, he lashed out, breaking everything within reach, including the pane of glass that was to be installed in Catherine’s window as a welcome-home gift from the triplets.

Henry looked down at his bleeding hand and wiggled each of his fingers with varying degrees of success. When he looked up again, Jamison was standing before him, probably going from the barracks to the foodstores.

Jamison’s gaze flicked to Henry’s bleeding hand, the one that still held that scrap of linen. He may not have realized what it was, but if he did he was smart enough not to mention it. 

His dark eyes returned to Henry’s pale ones. “Do you want a drink?” 

They sat on cots near the door to the barracks. Other warriors were scattered about, murmuring to one another as they cleaned their weapons or played cards. None of them slept, and none of them would so long as Macleans were on their land. 

They drank in silence at first, Henry keeping his focus on his cup as he opened and closed his fist. The bleeding had stopped but it grew sorer by the minute.

After a long silence, Jamison cleared his throat and spoke up. “I know it’s never pleasant when the Macleans are near, but it must be especially difficult with your wife so close by.”

Henry grunted. He did not want to talk about what was happening, especially not with Jamison, but the other man wouldn’t be deterred. 

The two had always had a strange sort of rivalry growing up, their relationship tense at even the best of times. But Jamison had matured considerably the last few years, especially after his father died and he no longer felt the need to prove himself worthy of his love.

“I never thanked you for choosing me to accompany you to England,” Jamison said. “You had many good men to choose from.”

“I don’t want you to thank me,” Henry said flatly. If he were going to say something kind to the other man, now would be the time. He didn’t. 

“You don’t want any apology either, I’ll bet. And I’m not the one who should be giving it to you.”

“I don’t want anything from you. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t owe you anything, either.”

Jamison’s father owed Henry the apology – owed Henry’s mother the apology. But they were dead now, both of them, and death was as close to resolution as anything would ever come.

“I bet you do want something from me,” Jamison said after a long silence. He grinned. “I bet you want me to stop trying to have these conversations.”

Henry cracked a half-hearted smile. “Especially when there are Macleans upstairs.”

“Jamison!” Alistair trotted into the room. “They’re about to sever the boy’s leg. We need help to hold him still.” 

Jamison paled but he made no protest. His hands were steady as he set down his ale and rose to his feet. Henry rose too.

“Not you,” said Alistair. “Father wants you to go back to your wife.”

Henry nodded, swallowing his pride. Not being needed here made him feel useless, but he supposed Sybil needed him more. Being a husband was a different sort of usefulness.

It was for the best that he leave, anyway. Jamison’s almost-apology had him thinking of his mother.

***

It was a long time before Sybil was able to rise from bed. She was too uncomfortable to sleep, though crying had drained her of most of her energy. 

She dipped a rag in a pail of water and used it to wipe herself down before dressing. It was the middle of the night but a mere nightgown didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like enough. She had the urge to hide her body under every article of clothing she could find. 

The utter darkness outside made her anxious. She felt trapped. She was trapped - not just by the laird’s decree for everyone to remain in their homes, but by the highlands themselves. There was nothing and no one for miles. Her friend was out of reach, as was her husband. But Sybil wasn’t sure that she wanted him within reach.

She paced the cottage, braiding and unbraiding her hair over and over as she wished there was someone here she could speak to, because she refused to speak aloud to herself like some doddering old lady, and keeping her thoughts trapped inside her head was like trying to corral a thunderstorm. She’d rather be needlepointing than braiding but the light was far too low.

Had she behaved strangely during the bed? Had something about it felt strange to Henry? What were the chances that he would accept the awkward encounter the same way he accepted her other peculiarities? Would he ask her questions she could not answer?

How was she supposed to talk to him at all after what they’d done? She’d never been so embarrassed in her life - which was truly a feat, considering her propensity to talk without thinking. 

Thoughts of her father’s friend kept trying to sneak in. not thoughts of that awful hour in the bathing chamber, but thoughts of him today. Did he think about it at all when he was comfortable at home with his wife and his family? Did he even remember what he’d done to her? Were there other girls he’d hurt?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone at the door - Henry, no doubt.

She leapt into bed, turning her back to the door, and shut her eyes. There was no way he’d believe that she was asleep, not when she was fully dressed and out of breath, but she hoped he would at least be kind enough not to call her out on it. 

It was painfully obvious to Henry that his wife was awake. It was also obvious that she was terrified.

He’d ruined things by rushing her. And for what? So Donal fucking Maclean could smirk at him?

Alexander had barely looked in his direction tonight. His indifference was infuriating. Henry wanted him to be angry, so angry that he couldn’t see straight. That was why he’d married Sybil, after all. To take something from a Maclean. To wound one of them.

He wanted Alexander to look at him – maybe even see the bloody cloth in his hand, the proof that he’d stolen something – and be blind to everything else.

He wanted a reason to fight him and beat him and humiliate him and humiliate the whole Maclean clan and its dying laird.

That was why he married Sybil. To use her as a tool, to further his game. 

And he felt like shit for it. 

He’d been good to her – tried to be, at least. Whatever his motivation to marry her had been, he’d treated her as best as he possibly could. And it wasn’t just out of a sense of duty. At least not anymore. 

Henry moved very slowly to the bed and lay above the covers on his back, looking up at the dark ceiling. His wife was rigid beside him.

He had to speak, to tell her about his mother. It wasn’t that he needed someone to know – the whole clan knew; they just never spoke of it. He wanted to tell her because he needed someone to understand.

“My mother . . .” he started. That familiar, sore lump was already swelling in his throat and he swallowed it down. “No one knows exactly what happened when. . . she never told anyone who my – who he was –”

Sybil cautiously turned toward her husband. His eyes were closed, his jaw locked, and he looked frustrated with himself for being unable to speak. She didn’t understand what he was saying but she understood his tone. This was something painful to him. Something important.

He kept his eyes shut as he pieced together the story. “No one knew at the time, but . . . My mother was already with child when she wed Maclean. It was not his . . . I was not his.” He flicked his tongue over his lips. “He found out somehow.”

The story wasn’t complete by any means, but Henry knew that was all he would be able to say tonight without being overcome by emotion, at which point he would probably break something – again.

But that would upset Sybil to the point where she might run screaming from their little home. And he didn’t want to upset her. Not ever.

Sybil’s hand was on his cheek before she knew what she was doing. Henry tensed even further for a moment before relaxing into her touch the slightest bit. 

She wasn’t sure what to say to him to make him feel better. There probably wasn’t anything that anyone could say to do that.

Let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list!

[jules-has-notes]

10,000 Hours (Disney Evolutions) — PattyCake Productions music video

Dating in the 21st century has been made both easier and more challenging by the rise of multiple dating apps. Sometimes a girl just wants to escape into a fantasy world where everything is easier, and a handsome prince will simply come along to sweep her off her feet. With that in mind, PattyCake wondered what it might look like for the men of Disney's animated films to make themselves available for virtual matching. Who will make you swipe right?

Details:

title: Disney Evolutions — 10,000 Hours — Disney Guys on Tinder

performers: Hannah Laird (Emma), Matt Rothenberg (Prince Florian), Mike Marin (Prince Charming), Devin Michael (Peter Pan), T. Robert Pigott (Captain Hook), Julian James (Prince Phillip), Bradley Mack (Roger Radcliffe), Harrison Beeson (Prince Eric), Matthew Alexander (Prince Adam), E. Michael Evans (Gaston), Bryan Perri (Aladdin), Navid Nowakhtar (Jafar), Brad Pettitt (John Smith), John Wright (Phoebus), Russell Warner (Claude Frollo), Timothy Olmo (Hercules), Nicholas Hartford (Shang), Justin Beard (Tarzan), Chaz Hine (Kronk), Gregory Coleman (Milo Thatch), Deion Galindo (Naveen), Chris Ross (Dr. Facilier), Daniel Gugel (Flynn Ryder), Brandon Wood (Kristoff), Steve Moeslein (Hans Westergaard), Michael Lwin (Maui), Will Holderness (Tyler), & Tony Wakim (featured vocals)

original song / performers: "10,000 Hours" by Dan + Shay, & Justin Bieber

written by: Dan Smyers, Shay Mooney, Justin Bieber, Jason "Poo Bear" Boyd, Jessie Jo Dillon, & Jordan Reynolds

arranged by: Layne Stein & Tony Wakim

release date: 7 February 2020

My favorite bits:

how close their version of the song sounds to the original

the emoji replies in the chat box referencing each guy's story

the jazzy piano riff as Roger scores approval 🎹

Frollo not just getting rejected, but being reported as a creep

the demigod glow on Hercules

Shang getting a bit of guqin music when he accepts the dinner invite 🎶

Facilier disappearing in a puff of smoke

the slight dissonance on ♫ "gotta cure my curiosity" ♫

Tony's vocals dipping into a minor key for ♫ "I might never get there, but I'm gonna try" ♫

the rubber Hei-Hei popping into frame and screaming over Maui 🐓

Pan and Hook taunting each other from their adjacent frames during the scroll

Milo's dropped book falling past Maui 📙

Trivia:

○ Many of the actors featured in this video had appeared in earlier PattyCake projects.

Hannah had provided many vocals for the "Unexpected Musicals" series, and portrayed Charlotte La Bouff on screen in the Princess Academy holiday special episode.

Mike played the animator in the "Disney Girls Like You" video the previous spring.

Robby, Michael, Navid, Russell, and Chris are all reprising their respective roles from The Villains Lair.

John had embodied Thor for "Avengers: Thunder" a year and a half earlier. He'd also had a supporting role in the PattyCake-produced music video "Dad Bod" from his wife's semi-fictional girl group 4Eva29.

Chaz first appeared as Kronk in the "Teamwork Makes the Scheme Work" episode of The Villiains Lair.

Julian took over the role of Prince Phillip from his brother Jason, who had played him in "Michaeleficent". He'd also had a supporting role in 4Eva29's "Dad Bod" video.

Brad, who plays John Smith here, was previously Prince Adam in "Beauty and the Bieber".

○ Some of the new faces made a good enough impression to be asked back for future productions.

Steve has reprised the role of Hans in the second season of the Villains Lair series.

Deion would soon play one of the restless folks enduring lockdown in "Quarantine: the Musical".

Daniel has returned several times over the ensuing years for roles in "Once Upon a Time: the musical", "Villains Haunted Mansion", and a tongue-in-cheek version of "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" featuring The Grinch.

○ Ever After Character Events, who got a shoutout in the end screen, provide costumed performers for parties and other events in the Orlando area. Unsurprisingly, many of their services are for Disney princesses, but several of these cast members had also worked with them as princes, superheroes, and pirates.

○ There's a slight production error with the time the video takes place. The analog clock on the wall sits at 6 o'clock, but the phone's lock screen shows 12:00.

○ The rubber Hei-Hei later appeared in VoicePlay's music video for "Friends on the Other Side", filmed on PattyCake's stage procenium set with J.None wearing their Dr. Facilier costume.

[halogalopaghost]

dude im watching the 2003 show for the first time and i just watched SAINW and DAMN like I am in shambles 👍like I knew it was gonna be rough but like JEEZE like i cant get over how they killed off mikey leo raph like damn or how raph reahced for leo as he was dying even though they weren’t talking for so many years like 😭😭😭😭😭 I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM THIS and like what happened to the Donnie in that universe like he would’nt just leave them so did he just die or something ??? RAAAAAAA and like i tried talking to my sister about this episode and she didn’t really care so now im yelling about it to you bc like DAMN poor Donnie and leo looked so scarred and Mikey missing and arm and raph missing an eye like they went through it‼️‼️‼️ that episode was crazy like so much happened in it I need to sit in silence for an hour and process

Oh my condolences skgbskfns 💀 yeah SAINW is a life changing experience and I'm NOT kidding, you're never going to stop thinking about it!!

As for what happened to Donnie, there's nothing ever established in canon...but Peter Laird had some ideas.

Once you've finished your hour of silence, I have some fic recs for you,

Peripheral Visions by slipstream

An absolutely haunting fic that follows Raph and the universe struggling to reconcile how Don managed to change their future. I think about it constantly.

As It Never Will Be (mine)

Don decompressing and attempting to process what he witnessed during SAINW

Loose Ends by T33LA

A sort of follow up to the above story, Donnie's paranoia about the future crops up in some unusual—and potentially harmful—ways

Enjoy your suffering!

[thecomicsnexus]

TMNT X STRANGER THINGS #1-4

July/October 2023

By Cameron Chittock, Fero Pe, Sofie Dodgson, and Rus Wooton.

The gang from Hawkins goes on a field trip to New York, where they discover an invasion of Demo-mousers, and together with the ninja turtles, they'll try to close a portal to the upside down.

SCORE: 9

This could have been a 10 from me, but to be honest, the plot was a little too complicated to follow. I would have preferred one more page of exposition about what happened to the utroms that got left behind.

The real star of this mini is Fero Pe. Not only these turtles (and cast) look like they jumped right out of the first few years of TMNT, but they also look A LOT like the NECA action figures (the ones based on Peter Laird's designs).

With that mind, I have the suspicion that Fero Pe uses action figures to draw. Because I was looking at one of his covers for the main book, and the turtles looked a lot like the Playmates figures for the 2012 series.

In any case, I would love a Turtles book that looked like this, perhaps an anthology series like Tales (but I assume the name "Tales of the TMNT" will be taken for the foreseeable future). And maybe taking place in the Mirage universe?

The personalities are all on point, and if you are wondering, no this isn't the Mirage universe, but it looks like a spinoff universe from it, that also includes the Stranger Things characters.

As for the gang from Stranger Things, the story clearly takes place between seasons 2 and 3.

Overall, I am happy with the results, it looks good for both universes.

One interesting detail is that April in this story is the one with the perm (based mostly on the cover of TMNT #11), and once again, her ethnicity is a guess game. I am not sure why, as they could have simply made her Afro-Latina for this mini. But in some panels she looks white, and in others she looks more like Donna Summer... this was probably a colorist decision.

Another interesting detail is how the demo-mousers look like Peter Laird's prototype from the 2000s series (the one before the 4kids show).

I wonder if that played any part on this, or if it just came out naturally?

[the--highlanders]

🌹 <3

Beads of light sprang across Jamie's vision, spilling out from the bright centre of the light set into the ceiling. Most lights in the TARDIS were white, cold and clinical - but this one was golden, pulsing softly every once in a while, like it drew its power from a candle rather than a bulb. The fireplace flickering beside him added its own orange tint, casting shades of brown over the heather-green carpet. For all his eccentricities, all the time he spent clattering around laboratories or building sand-castles or wandering onto spaceships - Jamie had never been able to shake the sense that the Doctor was a gentleman. Some sort of laird, just without the land and the tacksman and the tenants. He would scoff and turn his nose up at the rich and vain and powerful, for sure, but his study wouldn't have been too out of place in a big house from Jamie's time. It might have been stuffed full of alien samples and gadgets Jamie couldn't have figured out in a million years, but so much of it was familiar. The panelled walls and the ornate armchairs and the fine wooden desk. Strangest of all was the fact that Jamie /liked/ it. He could have been anywhere, after all. The TARDIS was nearly infinite. But here he was, lying on his back on the plush carpet, fighting to keep his eyes open against the light. Of course, it helped that the Doctor was in here, too.

a bit of the soulmate au I'm working on for you!! (sooo close to having this one done actually..... I only have two more sections to write)

but also this was just. me having fun with describing the doctor's study. my image of it has always been super influenced by the doctor who adventure game, of all things (does anyone else remember that hdjkhgkf). but I really like the idea of the doctor having a very vintage-y study, like this little warm cosy refuge from the futuristic parts of the tardis.

and I /do/ think they present themselves as a gentleman, no matter how much they might dislike the association!! the privilege and superiority complex of the time lords is super interesting to me, especially in relation to two as he's just starting to learn to break away from that. & I think it's interesting in terms of jamie as well, as he'd be well-placed to both identify it and see the irony in it. it's sort of another aspect of him keeping two in check and influencing the morality/sense of self that he'll carry forward into future incarnations.

wip ask game!

[princeofconjurers]

[[ It is That Time.

Watching a bootleg of Phantom on YouTube because we don't have a DVD player right now and Phantom is only streaming if you pay for it right now.

I first saw this musical 20 years ago (well, it will be 20 years ago in October, didn't quite get to 20 years. I wanted to see it for my birthday this year in October for the 20th anniversary of seeing it on Broadway but unfortunately that won't happen, even though I'm moving close to New York later this month).

I am so glad I got to see it three times on Broadway when in New York last month. I didn't know if I'd be able to see it again and I ended up seeing it three times on that trip. Such a beautiful production.

I heard Laird Mackintosh is the Phantom for the final performance? Is that true? I love him. Ten years ago he was I think Andre when I saw it twice on Broadway. He's put so much into Phantom. I also heard that Ben hasn't performed at all this month. Strange. I hope he's okay.

The first (Oct. 2003), second and third (Nov. 2013) times I saw Phantom on Broadway, Hugh Panaro was the Phantom and he's one of my favorites (as you might guess from the icon), even though the first was ten years before the second and third (that I saw two days in a row).

The fourth, fifth and sixth times (which was last month, March 2023, two days in a row then one day break in between for the third) it was Ben Crawford.

Somewhere between that I saw it twice on tour, once at Pantages with Chris Mann (July 2015) and the other at the Segerstrom with Derrick Davis (July 2019). I'd previously met Chris Mann on his tour for The Voice.

Also Love Never Dies at the Pantages with Gardar Thor Cortes as Mister Y (April 2018).

I still have the DVD of the 2004 movie I got as soon as it came out on DVD when I was like 8 (9? When did the DVD itself come out?) it doesn't work anymore and I have a different one to replace it as well as the 25th anniversary production of course.

I really need to buy a Playbill to replace the one from when I saw it in 2003, which I have seen some on ebay so at some point I will get one. I also really want to replace the Andrew Lloyd Webber 2002 Gold CD which was the first way I listened to any Phantom songs before I saw it live. I fell in love with Music of the Night at 6 years old before I even saw the musical. This musical has meant so much to me and it helped me through a lot when I was 16-18, and the height of my Phantom obsession. I am still very proud of the Phantom collection I have, every English translation of the original novel and a French language one of course, so many DVDs and a few VHS tapes, CDs, cassette tapes, books of and about Phantom and its adaptations. I've written papers on this story for college. I have seen so many adaptations, met my best friend and love because of Phantom and had many wonderful friendships because of this story.

I will miss you, Phantom on Broadway, which was my first introduction to this wonderful, tragic story. I will see you again once you come back for your inevitable revival at some point in the future. 35 years is a long time and you've had a great run. The Majestic won't be the same without you. Break a leg to whatever will be in the Majestic next having to deal with any lingering ghosts in that theatre! The Phantom will always haunt that stage, I'm sure, it's been his home for 35 years. You are a beautiful theatre and it will be so strange to see something else in the Phantom's place.

I love you, I will always love you, I will miss you, and I can't wait for your return. ]]

[ofmythsandfables]

J.amie F.raser

starter call | open starters | aesthetics | headcanons | photos

VERSES

On The Run (1743 ; Aged 23)

Jamie is in hiding from the British going by Jamie MacTavish, having a price over his head for a crime he didn’t commit. He lives with his uncle who is Laird of Leoch, and is sheltering Jamie from being found.

Laird of Broch Tuarach

Jamie finally returns home to become Laird at Lallybroch. He lives with his sister Jenny, brother-in-law, and nephew. Though, Jamie never lets his guard down, knowing danger is always around the corner and is worried he’s putting his family in jeopardy.

Est-ce que tu parles français? - 1745 (aged 25)

After a close call with the British, Jamie flees to France to live with his cousin. There, he runs a home as well as his cousin’s wine business while he travels for some time. Not entirely realizing it, he begins to enjoy the finer side of living and falls into step with it well. Here, Jamie is furthering the cause of the Jacobite rising.

Battle of Culloden - Could take place weeks before the battle or after.

Jamie returns to Scotland to fight against the British. Though the Scots lose the battle, Jamie gains revenge on Jack Randall even though he is taken to a jail, far from home, for being a Jacobite.

Home Again - 1765 (aged 45)

Yes, twenty years have passed. Jamie is back in Scotland and under a different name, Alexander Malcolm. Working as a printer and owning his own business in the town of Edinburgh, he lives a quiet, low life. Or at least, he tries to.

America, The Colonies - 1765 (includes season 6)

After a harrowing journey across the seas, Jamie ends up in America. North Carolina, to be precise, and settles down as best he can with his own land called Fraser’s Ridge.

You Say You Want a Revolution... - 1777 (aged 57)

Jamie is sought after to join the British during the very beginning of the Revolution, though he struggles whether to fight for them or the opposing side, to help better the future of his family. {More will be added once Part 2 of S7 comes out this November}

Through the Stones (Modern day ; Aged 25-35, depending)

Just a week before the Battle of Culloden, Jamie has accidentally gone through the stones at Craigh na Dun and wound up in the 21st century. He’s been living in Edinburgh for ten years, and though it hasn’t been easy to adjust, Jamie’s been doing his best and working as a bartender in a local pub. (If one would rather a younger modern Jamie not too long after falling through the stones, discuss with me first)

!!! IMPORTANT !!!

!!! Season 1 Spoiler ahead / TW: r*pe mention below !!!

Depending on the verses, there’s much more detail in each of their stories. As for one major and significant detail: being captured and r*ped by Captain Jack Randall which happens at the end of Season 1 (this is during his time at Leoch, though transitioning into becoming Laird of Broch Tuarach), I will not write those scenes out. It was traumatizing to watch, and I could never write that horrific scene. BUT, I can and will write about his PTSD with that unfortunate life event, because I think part of that makes up the Jamie we all know and love. As far as any other details go, depending on the verse, I will be more than happy to explain to any of those who are not an Outlander fan or just haven’t a clue what it’s about in full depth if you would like to know what Jamie is internally going through. The poor man goes through A LOT in each season, so to list it all here in each verse would be too much to read lol so if you’re curious, let me know and I’d be happy to oblige!

[radley-writes]

Hello once more Mx/Mount/Councilor/Dr/Esq/Honored/Envoy/The/Rain-Maker/Mayor/Saint/Laird//Sovereign/Commander/(B. L.)/Merciful/(Enemy of the Sun)/General/Mot/Friend/Enemy/Prestigious/Crafter/(Caretaker/Beastmaster/Keeper of The Horrors) Radley! I wasn’t sure what title/honorific you used and knew that many people like unusual titles (especially when the usual ones don’t apply)(see: the creatures and critters post, the swordsman and oil painters post, and some more I couldn’t find) (continued)

HELLOOOOO my dear darling nonnagon! I promise I wiill answer the other asks - I'm just busy with revision and cuddling The Horrors (who is currently on my lap and making it everyone's problem as he keeps trying to usurp my laptop). I love all these titles and will respond to nothing else in future! Thank you for bestowing them upon me - I promise to use this power for evil xxx

[geekcavepodcast]

IDW Announces 2 New “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin" Projects for 2023

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin is getting two new projects for 2023 according to IDW Publishing. First, is that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin - Lost Years, the upcoming 5-issue prequel to The Last Ronin, is expanding with a tie-in one-shot titled Lost Day Special from writers Kevin Eastman and Tom Waltz, artist Ben Bishop, and colorist Luis Antonio Delgado. Second, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin - Lost Years #1 is also getting an expanded Director’s Cut edition.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin - Lost Day Special is a 40-page special issue that will “straddle both the past and the future of the Last Ronin universe, setting the stage for thrilling new tales to come. In Lost Day, longtime resistance leader April O’Neil finds herself and her loved ones—including the four young mutant turtles she and her daughter, Casey Marie Jones, are raising and training together—once again caught up in the battle for the soul of New York City. When April takes the turtles with her on a supply run into the city, they get lost and risk becoming collateral damage in the newest power struggle overtaking the streets. Old memories mix with new realities as April and her four small charges race to get back home before it’s too late.” (IDW Publishing)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin - Lost Day Special goes on sale in May 2023.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin - Lost Years #1, Director’s Cut will include supplemental materials from Kevin Eastman, Ben Bishop, and SL Gallant, like an “exclusive look at the concept’s evolution from a speculative draft composed by Eastman and Laird in the nascent days of TMNT’s indie comics era to a New York Times best-selling, internationally beloved phenomenon, as well as the new, expansive universe that has emerged as a result.” (IDW Publishing)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin - Lost Years #1, Director’s Cut goes on sale in April 2023.

(Image via IDW Publishing)

[scotianostra]

January 22nd 1788 the poet George Gordon Byron, better known as Lord Byron was born in Holles Street, London.

Byron is thought of as an “English” poet, but “Anglo-Scots” is definitely more accurate, so rather than go over old ground detailing the life of Byron let's have a look at his Scottish credentials.

Although his father, a licentious rogue known as ‘Mad Jack’ Byron, was English, his mother, Catherine Gordon, was a Scot and an heiress to boot; the inheritor of a substantial portion of the family fortune – around £30,000 – and Gight Castle in Aberdeenshire, as well as becoming the 13th Laird of Gight. 

The family was widely believed to be cursed. Gight Castle was a bleak, miserable place that had been built in the 16th century, and had been commensurate with whisperings of witchcraft and ill-doing ever since then. 

The grimmest of all the stories about Gight was that, in the Covenanting Wars of 1644, the laird, Lewis Gordon, had hidden his jewels in the nearby basin, Hagberry Pot. 

When Gordon asked one of his factotums to retrieve the jewels, the shaken young man returned and claimed that Satan himself guarded the treasure. However, the laird was no less intimidating a figure than Lucifer, and so the hapless diver was sent back once again to Hagberry Pot. The jewels were never seen again, but the young man’s body reappeared a few minutes later, neatly severed into four pieces. His spirit was said to roam haplessly round the castle, seeking desperately to find his missing body and lasting peace. 

 Unsurprisingly, Catherine wished to escape from this bleak prison, and so she headed to Bath in 1785, where she met her future husband, and after a brief courtship, they married almost immediately. It did not take long for Catherine to realise her husband was a  good-for-nothing scoundrel, and, shortly after her son was born they headed up to new and less impressive lodgings in Queen Street, Aberdeen.

 While their new Scottish home was hardly the cosmopolitan centre that London and Bath had been – Catherine complained that a bonnet “was out of fashion in London before it arrived [there]” – it was not devoid of culture, boasting playhouses and bookshops and a thriving port that brought trade (and money) to the city. After her useless husband left Scotland for France, where he eventually died of tuberculosis in 1791, Catherine and her son were left to fend for themselves, and when she learnt of Jack’s death she is said to have howled so violently and piteously that her lamenting for her ‘dear Jonnie’ could be heard in the street.

Given their reduced circumstances, the two of them moved from Queen Street to the main road, Broad Street, (as seen in the pics).and lived on the first floor of a house there along with their maid, Agnes Grey. Byron was troublesome even from a young age; already self-conscious about his lame foot, a result of his botched delivery, he once attacked another nurse who spoke patronisingly of his deformity, crying “Dinna speak of it!” At this point, he spoke with his mother’s strong Scottish accent, something that he would soon drop. 

A happier occurrence was that Catherine joined the local subscription library, and encouraged her son to read widely and inquisitively

Byron's interest in learning was helped by him being sent to a local school run by a man named Bower, which was “a mixed school of good esteem though small and pretentious.” Catherine, recognising that her son could potentially be troublesome, asked Bower to make sure that her son was “kept in about��, or in check. 

It would be Bower who was responsible for his early spiritual education in thought, word and deed. He did not quite succeed, however. Byron was then transmitted to the care of a new master, a clergyman named Ross, under whom he made what Byron himself described as “astonishing progress”.  

Shortly after, Byron was removed from his tutors and sent to the local grammar school, where he was given the rudiments of a classical education – or as he described it later, “Latin, Latin, Latin”. It was not a life that he relished; he later claimed that as a young boy, he hated poetry. 

Catherine, however, had grand ambitions for her son, and Aberdeen Grammar School did not have the cachet that the English public schools possessed.

In the meantime, Byron contracted a dose of scarlet fever, and developed what would be the first of many grand passions, this time for his cousin, Mary Duff, who lived nearby and who he encountered at a dancing school.

Aberdeen was also important for his development from a cultural perspective. Byron visited the local playhouse from a young age, and at the age of nine saw a production of Romeo and Juliet, with an excerpt from The Taming of the Shrew appended to it. 

Byron, already showing a tendency to challenge expected norms, responded to the actor playing Petruchio’s line “Nay, then, I swear it is the blessed sun” by standing on his chair and shouting “But I say it is the moon, sir!” 

Yet relations between mother and son become fraught, because as a boy of great intelligence and rebelliousness  he enjoyed causing trouble for its own sake. Byron later recalled that, while still in Aberdeen, “(my mother and the maid) once in one of my silent rages wrenched a knife from me, which I had snatched from table at Mrs Byron’s dinner…and applied to my breast.” The dramatic force of the image is only undermined by its absurdity.

Moving south in August 1798, Byron never returned to Scotland, but the country influenced him in many ways – throughout his life people noted his faint Scots accent. It has been claimed that his aggressive satirical voice is from the Scots “flyting” tradition, and that some of his rhymes, especially in Don Juan, his masterpiece, can only work if pronounced à la manière écossaise.

He associated Scotland with things both disagreeable and agreeable, as his distance from it increased both in geography and time, and as his sense of it as a real location was replaced by a nostalgic myth of it as a place of rough simplicity and robust innocence.

Byron's most celebrated "Scottish" poem is Lachin Y Gair (Dark Lochnagar).

Another verse he wrote, or rewrote, is When I roved, a young Highlander, from Poems Original and Translated, and addressed to Mary Duff, she of the dancing school mentioned earlier. An extract reads;

When I rov'd a young Highlander o'er the dark heath,     And climb'd thy steep summit, oh Morven of snow!     To gaze on the torrent that thunder'd beneath,     Or the mist of the tempest that gather'd below;     Untutor'd by science, a stranger to fear,     And rude as the rocks, where my infancy grew,     No feeling, save one, to my bosom was dear;     Need I say, my sweet Mary, 'twas centred in you?

The pic of the ruined castle is the old family seat, Gight Castle in the parish of Fyvie in the Formartine area of Aberdeenshire

[celticbarb]

Book: Laird of Misrule

Author: Mary Wine

Series: The Enchanted Well, Book #1

Publisher: Dragonblade

Book Length: 231 Pages

Release Date: July 6, 2024

Book Rating: 5/5 stars

Blog Rating: 5/5 Saltire

Scottish Borders, 1554

A magical well can sometimes change the future…

As England is being run by a very religious fanatic the Roman Catholic Queen Mary who wanted the entire country to follow in the Catholic faith or there would be punishments or death.

This story centers on the The Hawlyn family, a Puritan family who is an English family in hiding. This Puritan father had three daughters and thought once he became a puritan he finally got the three sons he desired. So the father believes he was rewarded by God since he changed his religion. He also changed all his daughters' birth names to Puritan names Prudence, Modesty and Temperance and their lifestyles as well and punishment for disobedience could be severe. Prudence, whose real name is Braylin, decided to sneak out to the Samhain celebrations. Especially after making herself a mask and wanting to have some rebellious fun for a change.

It was Samhain where there would be bon-fires and dancing under the moon for the successful harvest and everyone would be masked. So Braylin/Prudence would be masked too and she was determined to join the fun she just was not expecting to meet the love of her life. This all had to do with a magical well where you just might meet your true love.

The hero is a Scot and name is Dugan and is the illegitimate son of a Laird. His cruel step-mother Alice does not want him to become Laird as she wants her son to claim the Hay Lairdship. The problem is her son was still a child and he was a full grown man. Except when she discovers he was dancing under the full moon calling himself the Laird of Misrule! Furthermore he was with a Puritan English lass she intended to ruin his chance to become Laird! Finally she finally had her chance to ruin him!

Dugan was an honorable warrior that all the men and retainers liked and respected. However Alice Hays was a harpy that no one liked, especially her husband the Laird of Clan Hays. However this deceitful and treacherous woman would do anything to secure her son's position! She intended to force him to marry the English girl and ruin his reputation, except she was very wrong not realizing he is already in love with this lass already feeling as she is his soulmate!

Will Dugan and Braylin have a chance for love and happiness when so many people hate them for various reasons? There are spies and ears everywhere and some who are just plain disrespectful. Do they have a chance for a happily ever after with a love that will last forever? Read and discover their fate!

Mary Wine has been my go-to-author for over twenty years as she always writes these exhilarating, fast moving stories that always touch my heart. Plus she weaves true history with a magical, fictional romance. She is extremely gifted in her craft where I highly recommend this book in her new series, Now I can’t wait for Modesty’s story next!

The Enchanted Well

Book 1 - Laird of Misrule

Book 2 - Laird of Mayhem

Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy and an advance reader copy from Dragonblade publishers. I voluntarily agreed to do a fair review and blog through netgalley. All thoughts, ideas and words are my own.