#then his friend Randall ‘‘died��’

[theshinysnivy1]

Professor Layton when you start the series: what a nice puzzle man. Lovely puzzle gentleman. Does the silly point thing and solves the mystery. Funny guy :)

Professor Layton at the end of the series: is there any aspect of this man’s personality that he didn’t construct out of grief, carrying on the legacy of those he loved even at the expense of his own identity? Even his name is a fragment of someone loved and lost. He’s a walking coping mechanism. What the hell.

[tea-of-destiny]

feeling very normal about randall in the professor claire universe

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/713924157395648512/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

Randall squeezed the cold metal of lyre as he peered down on Morgan and Emily from his perch, his cloak swirling around him like the wings of some ginormous bat: Even at the great height he was at, Morgan’s poisonous words carried on the wind, and Randall found himself clenching his fists with an indescribable rage, teeth gnashed together as he quivered with a growing rage. He wanted nothing more than to leap down from the Lyre and call out​ the organist on his lies, but instead, he remained frozen where he crouched-nothing good would come of him revealing himself.

You liar! he swore silently, glaring daggers down at the organist: How dare he fill his angel’s minds with such horrid lies? He, ever having a fondness for La Constance of all things? He’d sooner run naked through the streets of the city than so much as smile at such a hideous woman-she was no muse of his; she never had been, and never, ever would be. Emily was his one and only muse, his one and only love...

…and now, she was being stolen from him.

When the pair had disappeared back down into the opera together, Morgan’s arm around Emily’s waist in a faux-comforting manner, it all came to a head, and Randall found himself seeing red: As the wind began to rise and turn cold, he stood atop the Lyre, seized by an unspeakable anger at this insolent organist, who refused to do as he was told, to keep his big nose out of affairs that did not concern him, and declared to the heavens:

“You will curse the day you did not do...all that the Phantom asked of you!”

That anger quickly melded with a blinding madness, that mad cackle from earlier seizing his throat as he seemingly flew back down inside, rushing to the cupola above the auditorium, housing the mechanism for the grand chandelier, which glittered above the audience’s heads as they burst into applause as the cast of Il Muto gathered before the crimson curtain to take their bows. His eyes dampened with tears when he saw Emily, looking resplendent in her gown, smiling and bowing to her adoring audience...

…but when he saw Morgan in the wings, smiling like a snake as he clapped, Randall saw red again, as his hands worked shakily to undo the contraption, eyes burning with hatred as he set the mass of metal and glass sailing forward, free-falling to the stage, towards the organist, with a furious declaration:

“GO!”

But at the last second, the chandelier swung off-course, no longer aiming to land at Morgan’s feet like planned, but instead, it went forward, coming to a loud and horrendous crash upon the stage, stopping its fall right at Emily’s feet.

“No!” 

Randall gasped in horror when it did so, fresh, hot tears sprouting from his eyes as he stared at her: Although he was grateful it didn’t ultimately hit her, he knew, in his heart of hearts, that it didn’t matter. She would think the worse: This, compounded with Morgan’s poisonous words, would be all the confirmation she needed that her friend and Angel was nothing more than a devil in disguise. His stomach churned at the thought, and although he stared at Emily, wishing to cry out for her, to tell her that he was sorry, to tell her the truth...

…he knew it was no use, and so, he instead chose to flee, cape drawn around him as he hurried back to the attic, locking himself inside as he sobbed. It was of no use-she would hate him, now and forever. Even if he went to her now with the truth, she would not believe him.

And that would be all that would be heard of the Opera Ghost for the next six months-it would not be until the Bal de Masque to ring in the New Year that he would return, and with a vengeance...

[eveningalchemist]

Black Sails ended in 2017. Vine died in 2017.

Coincidence?? I think NOT!!!

[Video Description: a compilation of clips from Black Sails, with the audio replaced by Vines. transitions are a ship, the Walrus, exploding. a full description of each Vine is written beneath the cut. end ID]

I think we're gonna be friends kazoo kid vine over Silver and Flint in the we might be friends by then scene.

Screaming kid good morning vine over Joshua trying to jump scare Gates.

Don't fuck with me vine over Jack Rackham fighting for his first prize with another pirate captain.

The fuck this shit I'm out song over Silver watching Flint beat Singleton to death. Silver jumps overboard after.

The when will you learn vine over Max shouting at Eleanor during their break-up scene.

The yeet vine over Flint tossing Richard Guthrie's wig off the boat.

The free your mind vine over Vane's speech before he fights the logging camp leader. Fast-forward though the fight to Vane getting his face kicked in.

Sail! vine over a beautiful opening shot of the Walrus. A crew member shouts. Cut to the Walrus being blasted apart with cannon-fire.

Today I will be playing Mozart vine over Miranda about to play on her clavichord before being interrupted by Flint collapsing at her door.

Kitty! I want to sing you a song vine over various scenes of Randall and Betsy, the ship cat.

Do you ever want to talk about your emotions vine over Gates chastising Flint outside in Nassau, cut with Billy interrupting.

Gimme your fucking money vine over Eleanor arguing with a pirate crew, followed by Vane throwing Ned Lowe across his cabin, cutting to his warning sign that reads, I angered Charles Vane

Saw you hanging out with Katelyn yesterday vine over Billy confronting Dufresne about his betrayal, with pirates reacting in the background.

I am the sand guardian vine over Flint and Silver on the beach after the Walrus is wrecked, cutting to Dufresne walking away from them.

It is Wednesday my dudes vine over the island's Puritan priest practicing his sermon in a field looking distressed, overlaid with the scene of Miranda seducing him.

Barbecue sauce on my tittles vine over the scene of Gates and Flint drinking during the storm, with Gates giving a solemn speech. Cutting to Flint laughing drunkenly.

Welcome to Chili's vine over Anne going to Max's room, interrupted by Jack appearing while they are in bed.

Harry what's for dindin vine over a crew member walking up to Silver while he's giving his goings-on report. He punches Silver in the gut and Flint makes an 'oh' face.

Bop-It! vine over quick cut scenes of Jack, Anne, and Vane, including various fuck-you jack moments.

Welcome to my meet or greet vine over Colonel Rhett of Charlestown welcoming Flint into the city, unfriendly.

Dad look, it's the good kush! vine over Vane rolling a cigar, cutting to Blackbeard standing in his tent looking tired.

It's an avocado vine over Woodes Rogers receiving Eleanor's embroidery attempt.

Do you have any ice? vine over Thomas Hamilton explaining his plan to pardon the pirates to Flint, who looks baffled.

Somebody left an ice cube on the ground vine over Silver walking into Nassau's tavern to call-out the pirates for taking pardons. He hits Dufresne with a mug.

Get on top of the fridge vine over Flint yelling at Billy during the storm. Cut to Billy clinging onto a yard as the ship nearly capsizes.

Look at this graph vine over Silver trying to use navigation instruments and explaining them to Madi. Madi looks increasingly concerned.

Road work ahead? vine over Jack in Roger's carriage as they are approached by pirates on horseback. The carriage crashes.

You should get the orange soda vine over Eleanor and Max talking in her office after Eleanor's return from London. Eleanor is the orange soda woman and Rogers is the waiter.

Two bros chillin' in the hot tub vine over quick cuts of scenes of Silver and Flint, including sitting on the beach after the doldrums, staring at each other across a gap, and Madi in between them giving Silver a pointed look.

Release all of those sounds that are trapped in your mind vine over Vane talking to Eleanor while he's in prison. Cut to Eleanor screaming in the corner.

The fuck is in the air vine over Jack arriving in Boston and complaining about the snow.

I love you, bitch, vine over Vane getting punched by Eleanor, then getting a noose slipping around his neck as she watches.

It's finals week vine over Silver scenes across all seasons, from pleading his innocence in season 1, to getting his leg removed, to trying to save Muldoon from drowning, and then pulling a gun on Flint in the final episode.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Lyric Subgenres

This is a summary of the kinds of poems that lyric poets return to most frequently. It is convenient to be able to name a poem by its kind, because you can then compare it to others of the same kind. Examples:

Address to the reader - "Pray thee, take care, that tak'st my book."

Ballad - "There lived a wife at Usher’s well, / And a wealthy wife was she; / She had three stout and stalwart sons, / And sent them o’er the sea."

Child's poem - "The Little Black Boy" (Blake)

Dawn poem (aubade) - "Get up! get up for shame! the blooming morn / Upon her wings presents the god unshorn."

Deathbed poem - "I heard a Fly buzz — when I died —"

Debate-poem - "Body / O who shall me deliver whole / From bonds of this tyrannic soul? . . . / Soul / What magic could me thus confine / Within another's grief to pine?"

Echo-poem - "Then tell me, what is that supreme delight? Light. / Light to the mind, what shall the will enjoy? Joy."

Ekphrasis (poem on an art object) - "Ode on a Grecuian Urn" (Keats)

Elegy - "Felix Randal the farrier, O is he dead then, my duty all ended?"

Emblem-poem (allegorical object) - "The Sick Rose" (Blake)

Epigram (short, pointed poem) - "I am his Highness' dog at Kew: / And pray, good sir, whose dog are you?"

Epitaph - Underneath this stone doth lie / All of beauty that could die.

Epithalamion (wedding song) - "And evermore they Hymen Hymen sing, / That al the woods them answer and theyr eccho ring."

Hymn - "Jerusalem, Jerusalem / Lift up your gates and sing, / Hosanna in the highest . . ."

Inscription - "I the poet William Yeats . . . / Restored this tower for my wife George: / And may these characters remain / When all is ruin once again."

Letter - "This is my letter to the world / That never wrote to me."

Lover's complaint - "And wilt thou leave me thus?"

Lullaby - "Lullay, lullay, thou tiny child."

Muse-poem - "The Solitary Reaper" (Wordworth)

Nocturne - "'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's."

Pastoral (rustic poem) - "The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing / For thy delight each May morning."

Political poem - "Easter, 1916" (Yeats)

Quest-poem - "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? / Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

Religious poem - "I saw eternity the other night."

Romance - "The Eve of St. Agnes" (Keats)

Seasonal poem - "Sumer is icumen in, / Lhude sing cuccu!"

Self-reflexive poem - "I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers."

Shaped poem - "Easter Wings" (Herbert)

Song - "It was a lover and his lass, / With a hey and a ho and a hey nonny no . . ."

Twin poems - "The Lamb" and "The Tyger" (Blake)

Valediction - "Adieu, farewell earth's bliss."

Variations on a theme - "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Black-bird" (Stevens)

There are many other such that one could name: the bird poem, the eclogue (a dialogue of shepherds), the georgic (a poem on farming), the testament (a poem making a will), the conversation poem (a poem of a middle, or familiar, style recounting a conversation among friends), and so on. The essential thing is to realize that almost any poem is a repeat of a preceding genre, perhaps an answer to it, perhaps a revision of it. Thinking “What kind of a lyric is this?” makes you more aware of its place in a genre tradition, and of its response to that tradition.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[monayen]

U SHOULD DO NYEN NEXT!! ^^

Catfight | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - noncon, violence/aggression, injuries, degradation, dacryphilla, face slapping, scratching, face-fucking, breathplay. surprisingly no knives :0

a/n - was supposed to come out earlier today but tumblr gets picky about my internet connection and doesn’t work sometimes </3 this fic is just a leedle more longer so i hope you enjoy !! i’ve been appreciating all the support, as always requests are open :) another nyen fic was requested so expect that soon!!

Cats are territorial creatures. It takes a while for a cat to get used to a new pet in the house. Give it time. You should expect some aggression. Well, that's what Luther said anyways after Nyen scoffed and completely ignored you when you were introduced as Luther’s new catwoman pet. 

It's not like you did anything to him, actually trying to be nice in the beginning. It didn't matter how many times you wished him good morning or small talked. He’d still shove past you, saying the same thing,

“Don’t care. Die.”

Admittedly, It hurt your feelings at first. Nobody else had a problem with you. Luther’s other catman, Nyon, actually got along with you quite well. He already shared his “territory” so were you really intruding that much?

Or maybe it was because Luther spoiled you at first, buying you a cute dark blue skirt and dark top that dawned the word “cookie” (He chose it—of course.) along with your cat-hat that sported a floppy cat ear. However, it's been weeks since that. You’re sure whatever “new pet” jealousy he had would've died down by now.

It was concluded that after all that trying, at the end of the day, you aren't an ass-kisser. He wanted to be an asshole with you? You can be one back.

So you stopped being polite. You acted like he wasn't there, leaving the room instead of sticking it out whenever you two just happened to be alone. Simply rolling your eyes whenever he throws a stupid comment towards you. 

Sure, it was more tame than him literally shoving you and telling you he wanted you dead but it was clear that this got him livid. He wasn't worth trying to get along with, he wasn't worth your effort. 

Finally, after several more weeks of pettiness and frustration, he confronted you once you actually talked back to him after a snarky remark on a bad day. Cornering you in a lonesome room in the confusing house. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He stood tall in front of you, eyeing with a strong glare.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes like you always did, exasperated at his nerve to even ask you that, “My problem? You think I have a problem?” A chort leaves your lips, “If there's anyone with a problem—it's you.” With crossed arms, you return the glare. “Leave me alone now, asshat.” Heels turn to leave, not wanting to hear any more from him. However, you don't get a chance to even step a foot before Nyen harshly SLAMS you into the nearby wall.

“What—what the fuck!” The breath is taken out of your lungs, leaving you to slide down onto the floor in order to collect yourself in that split second. Nyen looms, not bothering to get on your level to speak to you, “Watch who you're talking to, I'll gut you right now.”

You're shaking, pain from the impact still vibrating throughout your body. Still, you futility keep yourself together and sharpen your gaze back at him. “Even if you wanted to—you can't. Luther likes me, and you're too much of an boot-licker to do anything—”

A swift kick meets your ribs causing you to hunch over in more pain. Nyen then crouches, grabbing a tuft of hair to force you to look at him. “Don't forget who’s higher on the hierarchy poster. You aren't worth anything besides sauntering around in a small skirt and cleaning after us like a maid.”

He lets go harshly, shoving your head in the process before getting up. Still feeling the burn in your chest, you begin to fester with anger. He can't just treat you like this. Just as he begins to walk away, you muster strength to get up and tackle him. 

“Huh—”

You straddle him while he tries to kick you off but you stay firmly put. Sharp nails scratch at his face, causing shallow lines of blood to pool. You're cursing at him furiously, hitting and scratching continuously. Nyen hisses— “You bitch!”

Just as fast as you had him down, he quickly shoves you off of him and topples you. You both trash against each other, now he's able to return some painful hits. After basically rolling around on the floor, he's able to overpower you once he BONKS your head against the carpeted ground.

Dizzy and hurt, you feel him keep you down with his body weight, crushing your legs and causing you to hiss in over growing ache. “Get off of me!” With hoarse breath, you attempt to flail around and scream but Nyen doesn't relent. 

Instead, he laughs maniacally as he shifts more of his weight and smacks your face. “Oh, no. I think you need to be reminded where the fuck you stand here.” He huffs and lifts the hem of your skirt, showing your underwear. Followed by flipping your shirt up above your bra, exposing yourself to him. 

You see a malicious grin spread across his rough, shaven face. You should smack yourself for not realizing the hardness you felt while you both tackled was something else. Well, if he wasn't smacking you around already.

His black, dagger-like nails trail your exposed skin, not scared to dig down and cause you to yelp—only to swipe across your thighs and do it again. Nyen then moves his hand beneath your underwear, rubbing his fingers against your heat. You push back a gasp, gritting your teeth and desperately trying to shut your pinned legs. 

He doesn't wait to stick a pair of fingers deep into you, staring intensely at your stressed reaction. “C’mon, don't got anything to say now?” You clench, you don't want to give him that satisfaction of your reactions. You seethe, because it feels good.

You try to keep it together when his fingers move in and out of you, but you can't ignore it when his thumb makes its way to rub your clit. He's harsh and fast, nails scratch your insides ever so slightly, causing you to clamp up around him. You can't let go of the feeling of his thumb circling your sensitive clit, a moan escapes you.

“You like that, slut?” Nyen speeds up and relishes on your hushed whines, cursing at him to just stop. He sees how your back arches slightly, and how your pretty tits are starting to spill from your bra. It's a nice sight, he likes how you were at each other's throat a few minutes ago, now he has you squirming around from a little fingering. You really are a slut.

Before you can reach your peak, Nyen pulls away. You breathe heavily, a pounding heartbeat reverberates in your ears. Once again, he towers over your hurt figure with furrowed brows before he snaps at you, “Get on your knees.” 

He stares at you intensely, and though his dark pupils stay stoic on your hunched over body, you clearly spot the pure anger in his eyes towards you. It says so much. You knew Nyen didn't like you, but you really are starting to think he hates you. This is beyond jealousy or distain. He just wants you to suffer because you are below him.

It seems he's sick of waiting for you to act, he scoffs before wrapping your hair around his strong hand, yanking you into a kneeling position. “You really don't listen.” SMACK. 

Overwhelmed tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the impact. Nyen still grips your hair, forcing your face against the dark denim of his pants. His clothed hardness pokes at your cheek, tears staining his crotch. “Take it out, whore. Don't make me do it.” You scowl, still feeling his claws digging into your scalp. 

With shaky hands, you pull down his fly and fish out his hard length. Veins trail along the side of it and his base flushes red against your hands, big and intimidating. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Put that dirty mouth of yours to use.” Nyen scorns, noticing your flaring eyes, hesitating. “Bite me. I dare you, slut.” With a furrowed face, you take his pulsing dick and gently place it in your mouth. Your tongue awkwardly sliding over his engorged tip. 

Nyen narrows his eyes at you, they're kitten licks, too shaky and soft to feel substantial. He observes the concept spread on your face, so uncomfortable and pathetic. It didn't matter that you were giving a sad excuse of a blowjob. He could get off on the fat tears that pooled down your face and the pure messiness of you.

Your hair and clothes are so disheveled it looks as if you just walked through the forest. You're bruising ever so slightly red on the side of your forehead, hits adorn your body, and he could chuckle at the matching scratches that sweep across both your faces. He thinks about how you would've looked even better if he had his knife with him. 

Twisting the hair he’s holding behind your head, he waits once you take his tip fully in your mouth and without warning—he snaps his hips up and pushes his cock down your throat.

You gag harshly as Nyen lets out a long groan, forcing your mouth to fully take him. Still, he never stops looking at you through half lidded eyes, grinning at how you struggle to even breathe now.

He doesn't waste time to start thrusting roughly into your mouth, clutching onto the back of your head to fully abuse your throat. You try to gasp in between thrusts but it's impossible. He’s blocking your airways. You continue to let out strangled noises, digging your nails into the denim of his jeans to let him know to give you some type of mercy.

Nyen doesn't listen—he continues to feverishly fuck your face for a grueling however long. Long enough for you to start to feel dizzy and see dots collect in your vision. For a second, you truly panic that he’s going to suffocate you with his dick.

He only pulls back when he visibly sees you start to turn blue and feel the sharpness on his thigh weaken. You gasp for air like a fish out of water, aching lungs finally filling with much needed oxygen before Nyen greedily forces his way into you again.

He’s enjoying how your continued strained whines and gags vibrate around his dick. He won't admit it… but shit, you feel so addictive. Nyen wants to just melt into you.

He genuinely has to keep reminding himself to not let you die by pulling out of your mouth every so often. Taking some joy in how you scramble for air before he inevitably slams back into your poor throat.

Large hands grip at the sides of your head now, hip movements become more and more sloppy. He’s grunting louder, the sensation of twitching in your mouth becoming more evident of how close he is now. “Fuck—this really is all you’re good for, huh? You're going to swallow all my cum like the useless slut you are.”

With a final snap from his hips, Nyen forces your head all the way down, nuzzling your nose into his crotch before he spurts salty cum deep down your esophagus. He doesn't give you any leniency, purposely making you choke as he empties into you. “All of it, whore.” 

Finally, once he's satisfied that you’ve tasted enough of him, he harshly pulls out his pulsating cock. Air feels like a commodity now, you almost feel as if he's going to shove his dick inside your mouth again in a few seconds. He doesn't though, instead he removes his hand from your hair and grabs his flushed length. 

Your vision is blurry and your knees are weak, barely able to focus. Still, you manage to see the smug look spread across his face. Suddenly, you feel a warm, quick smack on the side of your cheek. You blink and realize he’s dick slapping you. What fucking nerve.

Still aching, you don't bother to fight back or say something like you should. Everything truly hurts. Instead, you allow yourself to loll back and cover yourself as Nyen zips himself back into his pants. 

It's quiet. Nyen stands by and over you as you sit on the carpet, not sure what to do. Tears would be flowing if you had any left to cry. Both your eyes finally meet, and you can properly see the red scratches you left on his face. Nyen finally spits, “Get up. You look pathetic.” He then opens the door and leaves you to wallow.

It's like another slap to your face.

[girlactionfigure]

It was a "small" act.

But, at the time, she didn’t realize she was making a life-changing, and life-saving decision, not only for her but for hundreds of Polish Jews during the Second World War, helping save them from Nazi execution.

Only when she died, on April 8, 2022, at the age of 107 did the rest of the world learn of her courage.

She was born Carmen Koppel in Vienna, daughter of Frieda and Emil Koppel. Her father, an opera-loving grain merchant, chose her name after Bizet’s Carmen,” according to The Guardian, “She studied languages at the University of Vienna, taking shorthand to help with her note-taking.”

She said “My mother had insisted that I learn something useful, so I learnt to type.”

“In 1936 she married Josef Weitmann, who owned a curtain-making business in Kraków, and the couple settled there and had a son, Sascha.

“After the German occupation of Poland in 1939, the administration wanted to re-establish Kraków as Krakau, a German city. As Jews, [she] and her husband were forced to live in the Kraków ghetto, established by the Nazis in 1940. Its inhabitants were allowed to leave and return only with special permits. Josef was killed while trying to escape; Sascha was smuggled to relatives in Hungary.”

According to the New York Times, “in late 1944, as a slave laborer in the administrative offices of the Plaszow concentration camp in Poland, [she] typed an important version of the manifest of prisoners bound for [a] munitions factory in the area of the Czech Republic then known as the Sudetenland.”

“It was in those offices” that she also added her name and the names of two friends to the list, indicating her profession as “schreibkraft,” according to writer Alex Mindlin.

By typing that list, she almost certainly saved her own life, the lives of her friends, and many others, according to Mindlin.

That “list” “saved them from the gas chambers of Auschwitz, where most of the other Jews from Plaszow were deported,” according to The Teller Report.

Years later after the war, she would meet again the man who had made that list possible, the man who employed her.

She had a different last name by this time, but he still remembered her by her nickname. [She never liked the name “Carmen”, so close friends referred to her after a character in “La Bohème”.]

'It must have been around 1953,” she said. “I had gone to Vienna and I was walking along a street with an uncle. We were passing a coffee house where there was a group of people sitting. This large man ran across and hugged and started kissing me, saying: ‘Mimi, Mimi…’

“It was then that I realised that it was Schindler sitting with some of the Jews he had rescued.”

“The documents that [Mimi Reinhardt] worked on were made famous by Thomas Keneally’s 1982 novel . . . and by the 1993 Steven Spielberg movie ["Schindler's List"], both of which detailed the extraordinary lengths to which [Oskar] Schindler went to save the lives of some 1,200 of his Jewish workers,” according to the Times.

Other sources cite the number of lives saved even higher. According to AFP (Agence France-Presse) and The Times of Israel, “The lists which Reinhardt compiled for [Schindler] helped save the lives of some 1,300 Jews at considerable risk to his own life.”

“Austrian-born Reinhardt (sometimes spelled “Reinhard), herself a Jew, was recruited by Schindler himself and worked for him until 1945.”

This is a new story for the Jon S. Randal Peace Page. The Peace Page focuses on past and present stories seldom told of lives forgotten, ignored, or dismissed. The stories are gathered from writers, journalists, and historians to share awareness and foster understanding, to bring people together. And, as such, the stories are never relegated to one single month - they are available all year in the Peace Page archives and on this page each week throughout the year. We encourage you to learn more about the individuals and events mentioned here and to support the writers, educators, and historians whose words we present. Thank you for being here and helping us share awareness.

~~~~~

Reinhardt, then known as Carmen Koppel, “survived the final liquidation of the Kraków ghetto in March 1943, when 2,000 Jews were slaughtered, because the Nazis deemed her language and secretarial skills useful,” according to The Guardian.

At the time, the Red Army was approaching Poland and workers in Plaszow were being sent west to death camps,” according to The New York Times.

Reinhardt was a “prisoner at a concentration camp near Krakow, Poland during WWII in 1944,” according to the World Jewish Congress, when Schindler recruited her for a job in the camp's administrative office.

“Schindler and his Jewish accountant Itzhak Stern, who had helped to motivate Schindler, prepared the 'list' of essential workers - all of them Jews - for relocation to his new factory,' according to writer Peter Beaumont.

As Schindler’s secretary, Reinhardt “drew up the lists of Jewish workers in the Polish city of Krakow to work in the factory of her German industrialist boss”, according to writer Caroline Frost.

“This was a highly risky enterprise but is estimated to have saved . . . [the] workers from deportation and almost certain death in Nazi concentration camps.”

Reinhardt also “added the names of friends and her own married names until Schindler's quota negotiated with the SS was fulfilled: "Weitmann, Carmen, January 15, 1915, typist" is number 279 on the list.

“The rescue almost went awry” according to The Teller Report.

“On the way to Brünnlitz in 1944, the train carrying Schindler’s workers was diverted to Auschwitz,” according to The Guardian. “Death seemed inevitable. But Schindler used his military intelligence contacts to stop the diversion, claiming that these workers were vital for his armaments factory.”

“They had to stay in Auschwitz for two weeks,” according to The Teller Report.

“Mimi Reinhardt later compared the time to Dante's ‘Inferno’.”

“At the war’s end, [Schindler’s] workers were liberated, and Mimi was reunited with Sascha.”

Reinhardt “settled for a time in Morocco and then New York, where she lived for 50 years,” according to The Guardian. “She kept in touch with other ‘Schindler Jews’ whose lives had been saved by escaping the Plaszów camp under Schindler’s protection, but did not speak publicly about her earlier life until she moved to Israel in 2007.”

In Israel, she joined “her only son, Sacha Weitman, who was then a professor of sociology at Tel Aviv University,” according to The Times of Israel.

Schindler died in 1974, when he “was named by Israel’s Yad Vashem Holocaust museum as a member of the ‘Righteous Among the Nations’, an honour for non-Jews who tried to save Jews from Nazi extermination,’ according to Frost. “He is buried on the Mount of Olives just outside Jerusalem.”

The story of Reinhardt’s “small act” came to light when she was being interviewed by the Jewish Agency for Israel. (Note, “Reinhardt wasn’t directly portrayed in the Schindler’s List film,” according to News18.)

Reinhardt “expressed regret that Mr. Schindler, whom she adored, did not become a household name until after his death in 1974,” wrote Mindlin.

“He would have loved it, the attention,” she said.

She added in another interview, "I saw a man who was constantly risking his life for what he was doing. He was human. He must have had a heart of gold."

Reinhardt spent her last years at a nursing home north of Tel Aviv.

She is “mourned by her son and his family, as well as the thousands of people whose parents and grandparents she helped escape certain death,” according to the Jerusalem Post.

She has three granddaughters, nine great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandchildren.

In the image attached, Sasha Weitman, son of Mimi Reinhardt, holds an old photograph of his mother in Herzliya, Israel, (AP Photo/Ariel Schalit).

Of her contribution to history and assisting Schindler in saving hundreds of her fellow Jews, Reinhardt said, “I was just typing the list.”

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page  

[she-is-ovarit]

Eighty five people died in the deadliest fire in California's history in 2018. And there were so many headlines about this. Remains found "comingled" together. Remains found trapped inside vehicles. A couple of feet outside of the windows of their homes. On their porches. Beside the remains of animals. Side by side with each other. Attempting to flee.

And what never was mentioned is that most of these people were our elders. 84 years old, 99 years old, 78 years old.

"Ms. Farrell was 99 years old. Ms. Farrell was found deceased on the front porch of her residence at 1378 Herman Way in the Town of Paradise. Her wheelchair was found near Ms. Farrell." "Ms. Dodge was 70 years old. Ms. Dodge was found deceased between two cars in the carport of her residence at 5152 Pentz Road in the Town of Paradise. Ms. Dodge’s husband, Randall Dodge, was found deceased next to her. Based upon the evidence, Mr. and Ms. Dodge were attempting to flee the fire." "Ms. Cline was 81 years old. Ms. Cline was found deceased in her residence at 578 Roberts Drive in the Town of Paradise. She was physically immobile and unable to leave her home without assistance." "Ms. Ammons was 82 years old. She was found deceased outside her home at 6674 Pentz Road, Unit 112, in the Town of Paradise. The evidence indicated Ms. Ammons died while attempting to flee the fire as she was found just outside her trailer with her purse nearby." "Mr. Alderman was 80 years old and was found deceased inside his home at 5775 Deanna Way in the Town of Paradise. A severely sprained ankle prevented his mobility at the time of the fire, and he made several phone calls to friends seeking rescue before he perished."

Most of these people died alone, completely defenseless and helpless, and in such a terrible, horrifying way. People who have lived through so many years of history and have so much knowledge to pass on. The few who weren't elderly were physically disabled.

"Mr. Downer was 54 years old. Mr. Downer was found deceased outside the front door of his residence at 8030 Skyway, Unit A, in the Town of Paradise. Based upon the evidence, it appears Mr. Downer died while attempting to flee the fire. He was a wheelchair bound amputee and was unable to drive."

We need headlines to speak to who the bulk of the casualties and injuries happened to. 85 elderly and disabled human beings were burned alive. We need to think about them when we think about natural disasters, climate change, abuse and neglect. They're a vulnerable population and they bring so much value to our world.

Ms. Haley was 67 years old. Ms. Haley was found deceased at 5577 Heavenly Place in the Town of Paradise. Ms. Haley’s remains were found comingled with the remains of her sister, Barbara Carlson.

And I'm bringing up something that happened in 2018 because it's going to happen again. It's fire season right now. And if it's not a fire, then a flood. If not a flood, then a hurricane. If not a hurricane, then an earthquake. Our elders are our connection to a period of time we didn't exist in and we aren't taking care of them or thinking about them when we consider threats to people. They are human.

[frxstbyt]

random ass headcanons | the socs

notes: some of these are ooc but yk what idgaf (if you don't like anything ooc, don't bother giving hate, just leave. 🥰)

trigger warning !! : mentioned mental health issues/mental disorders, mentioned su¡c¡de, mentioned abuse + bullying

robert "bob" sheldon

— hates it when people call him bob. he prefers robert.

— huge kleptomaniac.

— bisexual mess (me core)

— mute bc johnny stabbed him in the neck/throat area and destroyed his vocal chords. (don't ask me why i hc him to live i just do)

— mental illness/insanity runs in his family (mother's side).

· his mom has a panic disorder and his grandmother had bipolar depression. (she k¡lled herself when bob's mother was a teenager.) bob has a self-harm disorder. (he hurts himself via drinking heavily, smoking, getting into dangerous fights, etc.)

— mama's boy. he loves his mama.

— has a little sister who he absolutely adores (she's five-going-on-six in my au).

— plays the violin

* * *

randall "randy" adderson

— gay motherfucker.

— schizophrenic. his hallucinations are constant and are very vivid.

— s h y a f.

— loves butterflies. he had a butterfly collection until his foster father threw it away. (adopted this hc from another tumblr user, cannot remember who.)

— very talented artist.

— he's jewish. (rich boy bar mitzvah, y'all.)

— theater kid, 100%.

— he and ponyboy are kinda friends. (they get along but don't see each other often.)

* * *

sherri "cherry" valance

— has an older brother who she's very close to.

— she hasn't found what she likes yet. everything she has (clothes, perfume, bedroom style, etc) was influenced by other people. (found this somewhere, cannot remember where.)

— *daddy issues by the neighbourhood starts playing*

· okay jokes aside, she really does have bad daddy issues. her father's neglectful (he works a lot) and is emotionally abusive.

— terrified of snakes

— cares too much for her reputation. like, too much.

— can play the clarinet.

* * *

marcia sinclair

— chubby marcia ily

· she was bullied throughout elementary and middle school for their weight and as a result they're very insecure about their body.

— has a cat named 'marie'.

— does ballet

— travels to paris during winter and spring break to visit family. (their dad is from france.)

— their mother died when they were young and their father never remarried.

— daddy's girl fr

— loves two-bit so much it hurts. they absolutely adore their boyfriend.

* * *

paul holden

— ...he's an asshole.

[smile-files]

the hunger of the heart

(a short hurt/comfort fic featuring henry and angela, in the period between the founding of monte d'or and the first appearance of the masked gentleman)

...

it was quite late in the evening, but henry didn't know.

as always, henry was in his study; he'd lock himself in his quiet sanctum for hours on end, buried in paperwork. busy as he was, he often lost track of time, forgetting meals - but duty was stronger than hunger, and so he'd rarely notice having missed breakfast, or lunch, or dinner...

but angela would notice. she always would.

...a gentle rap on the study door.

"come in," henry answered the knock, just loud enough for angela to hear.

angela turned the knob and stood in the doorway, a concerned look on her face. "henry, won't you come to dinner?"

a glance at her, then a glance at his watch. quite late in the evening. having been shaken from his unbroken hours of work, henry realized how tired he was. he shook his head.

"my apologies, angela. i am too busy at the moment." out of nervous habit, he began rifling his fingers through the sheaf of papers he held.

angela's eyes squinted in pain for a moment, still held steady on henry, but her face showed no surprise. this was an answer she'd heard many times before...

it wasn't long after the reunion inn's establishment and monte d'or's founding that henry started holing himself up in his work like he was doing now. granted, he was just as persistent when he himself had risked life and limb to search for randall in those accursed akbadain ruins; this clockwork diligence wasn't new to him, especially when his dearest friend was at stake.

oh, randall... how long had it been since he died?

for angela, the years of waiting had all but blurred together... but she knew henry was keeping track. he kept an internal tally of how many days he had been without randall, as if his ribs were a prison his heart was trapped in.

"will you eat later, then?" angela knew the answer.

henry's reply was curt, but polite. "i will try to find the time. thank you." he always answered as if it were the first time the question had ever been posed to him, as if he hadn't made a habit of going hungry.

when henry first started to skip meals like this, angela had protested, fearing for his health; the same went for him staying up all night, or working through illness. with time, though, as he repeatedly denied her concern, she learned to accept how his dedication consumed him: doing her best to bolster henry as he worked tirelessly for his master randall.

henry's gaze had shifted back to his paperwork, but angela continued to regard him. she saw the dark circles under his eyes, looking like smudges of ink from the pen which wore callouses into his bony, shaky fingers. she saw the sweat glisten on his forehead, wrinkled with countless days of anxiety and frustration, his brows forever knitted. she saw the thin frame of his body... if he'd ever let her touch him, she could surely feel the ribs protruding from beneath his skin...

it had become impossible to bear.

"what do you mean, you'll try to find the time?" angela asked, evidently distressed. "do you not find eating a necessity?" her voice was louder than she intended.

henry was startled, scared even, by her volume and emotion. he tucked in his chin slightly, and barely met her gaze. "i apologize, angela. i did not mean to cause you upset. i can go eat now, if that is your desire."

"is it not your desire? are you only coming to dinner because i'm upset with you?" angela was exasperated. "if not for me, would you never eat?"

"i apologize, angela," he said again, out of habit. his eyes darted away from hers, his voice nearly monotone. "i appreciate that you remind me to partake in meals. in the future i can put more effort into reminding myself."

angela began to truly enter the room, though henry continued to avert his gaze in discomfort. "but why should it be such a labor for you? do you not feel hungry?"

henry did feel hungry. he said nothing.

"aren't you ever hungry, or tired, or sick, or in pain? henry!" angela's voice was plaintive. "aren't you human?"

henry didn't think he was human. he said nothing.

"just look at yourself! how can you expect me to sit back and watch you waste away into nothing?"

henry's eyes widened slightly. her brother... randall... she had seen this all before.

suddenly she was leaning over his desk, gripping him by the shoulders.

"and for what?" angela cried. "just so you can look for a boy who's been dead for 10 years?"

"it's 11." henry's voice was a hush. he closed his eyes.

"...what?"

henry stood up, and angela's hands fell away. "master randall has been gone for 11 years."

it was angela's turn to say nothing. she watched as he began to walk towards the door. her breath was caught in her throat.

"i am going to eat dinner now, angela," henry continued. "i am sorry for causing you to feel concern for me."

angela shook herself. "it's not your fault that i care about you! that isn't something to apologize for!"

henry stopped by the doorway. his face was blank, his mouth taut.

"i know how much you care for randall. i care for him too. but won't you please..." she sobbed. "won't you please care for yourself?"

henry inhaled sharply. "i regret to inform you that i have other priorities."

"henry..."

angela loved randall, but she barely believed henry when he insisted on his survival. what she believed for sure, though, was that she could never live with herself if she let henry kill himself.

even if their marriage was a mask, she still loved him.

she softly, slowly stepped towards henry. he edged back slightly, but otherwise made no attempt at fleeing. he let her embrace him; he did not reciprocate the motion, merely allowing her arms to hold him.

angela sighed. "i wish you would tell me what you feel," she murmured. "i want to help ease your pain. and i know there is so much of it."

henry was so thin, angela's arms could easily wrap around his body. she could feel his ribs.

"there is nothing for you to worry about," henry said, his first words in a while. the tremble in his voice was nearly inaudible, but angela heard it anyway.

"i will never believe you when you say that," angela whispered, "for i know you've been waiting to cry for 11 years."

she held him against her for a silent moment, eyes closed, her chin over his shoulder.

then she could feel it, she could hear it: his body shaking, his sharp breaths. spots of cold falling on her shoulder.

"oh, henry..."

suddenly, desperately, henry clutched her close, fingers clinging to the fabric of her dress like those of a scared child. he convulsed with sobs, the tears collecting in his eyes for over a decade finally allowed to fall. henry cried.

henry had always been sensitive. he'd cried a lot as a child. angela was relieved to hear him cry again.

angela held him tight and smoothed her hand over his back. neither said a word.

when the last of his tears had escaped him, henry slowly released her and turned for the door, which he opened.

"please," he said in a low voice, "let us go to the dining room."

angela smiled softly, looking into henry's eyes for a moment, rimming with teary pink...

she walked out of the room.

but henry was not behind her. only the door, which was now closed and locked, leaving him within and her without. he'd placed his heart back safely behind his ribs.

henry wiped his eyes and sat back down at his desk. nobody would ever touch his heart again.

[platypusesforarms]

Borges Labyrinth, San Giorgio Maggiore | Monty Don's Adriatic Gardens: Venice

The Borges Labyrinth celebrates the life of the great Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges. It was opened in 2011 on the 25th anniversary of Borges' death, and is made up of over 3000 box plants. When seen from above, it spells out his name. After Borges died, designer Randall Coate dreamt that the best way to honour his friend was to create a labyrinth filled with symbols and references to the writer, as well as hinting at the maze-like tangle of Venice's streets and canals.

[loupy-mongoose]

To Clear Up Confusion About Randy.

So, for some reason there's a sudden surge of confusion about Randy. It's understandable--The whole thing can be very confusing, even if you read the Lab Arc where the switch happened. It's just a little weird to me that suddenly a few different people have asked me about it in a short span of time. XD

So I thought I'd fix something up to explain what happened.

Now, if you haven't yet read it yet and want to with minimal spoilers, click the link. (Or try here if that one doesn't work.) This will MASSIVELY spoil the story, as will just hanging around my blog in general.

So.

The human Randall Linden was working at a lab in Hoenn with his friend, a shiny Mew named Akoya, and later meets a regular Mew named Mo. Mo is the Mew that becomes Randy.

Eventually Akoya got pregnant. But the people of the lab tampered with the fetus to create a Mewtwo, that Randy named Lavender, which nearly killed Akoya.

At the end of the Lab Arc, the human Randy and the Mew Mo go to destroy the computers of the lab in hopes of destroying the info they had gathered to create Lavender.

But there is an explosion that traps the human Randy under burning debris. Seeing that his friend is going to die, Mo Psychically "downloads" Randy's memories, which end up replacing Mo's memories.

The human Randall died in the fire at the age of 28.

Mo the Mew essentially died as well, having no memories of his life as a Mew.

The being that is Randy in the present day story was once Mo, but now cannot live a such. So he lives and identifies as Randy, but has a lot of internal conflict in doing so.

His species is now technically Mew, but he often uses Transform to be human.

His human form is a nearly perfect copy of the human who died in the fire--The one difference is his eyes, which went from brown and needing glasses to blue with good/perfect vision.

And if there's question about what's going on with their souls... That'll be answered at a later point.

About his role as father.

The human Randy had no kids before dying in the fire.

Years after the fire, as a Mew, he and Akoya did have kids together; the twins, Monique (Momo) and Midas. The parents were both in Mew form when they did the deed. (In the future they will also have a daughter this way.)

Randy is their biological father whether he's in human form or Mew form.

Lavender is not biologically his daughter, and she well knows it, but they still see each other as father and daughter.

Hope that clears it up some! If people are still confused, I can attempt to illustrate it like TC's Professor Mew, but I don't really want to have to do that. XD

[serialadoptersbracket]

Round 2, Match 26: Tom and Maddie Wachowski vs. Sakyo Furuichi

Submitted kids:

Tom and Maddie Wachowski: Sonic, Tails, & Knuckles

Sakyo Furuichi: Azami Izumida, Banri Settsu, Juza hyodo, Taichi Nanao (these are just the main ones but tbh all Mankai company characters who were under 20 in year 1 count)

Propaganda under the cut!

Tom and Maddie Wachowski:

"they’re canonically found family; at least Sonic & them are 100% confirmed, & Tails & Knuckles are implied.

Tom may be a cop but he actively goes against the government in both movies. in the first, to protect this alien hedgehog kid he just met in his shed & shot with a tranquilizer dart by accident, & in the second, his kid & his new friend (Tails), both of which just came tumbling through a ring portal & crashing Maddie’s sister Rachel’s wedding.

Maddie is a vet & although it isn’t shown in the movies, it’s assumed this makes her more able to take care of their sons if they get sick &/or injured etc despite them being aliens. bit devastated i can’t remember anything else significant to add for her other than she & Rachel (her sister) got to wield Tails’ guns in the second movie’s wedding crashing-ing/bridezilla scene.

Bonus shoutout, her sister also plays a part in both movies, although her part being bigger in the second movie, where after her wedding is crashed, it’s revealed that her fiancée is a government spy. she goes absolutely berserk & it’s one of my favorite scenes/sequence of scenes bc she’s a girlboss & i absolutely adore characters going ham & insane on driving golf carts.

both sisters are girlbosses tbh, & i love this weirdass family consisting of these 3 alien kids, their dog Ozzy, Donut Lord (Tom), Pretzel Lady (Maddie), Pretzel Lady’s sister Rachel, Rachel’s fake-spy-love-turned-real-love husband Randal, & Rachel’s daughter Jojo."

Sakyo Furuichi:

"his first adopted child was azami, azami was his yakuza boss's kid but the boss was always busy and the mom died when azami was 5 so sakyo at age 23 ish raised azami singlehandedly. he went out of his way to protect azami's dream of becoming a makeup artist when his biological dad disapproved,, like when azami secretly ordered makeup online, sakyo told the boss it was "stuff teenage boys like" which prompted the boss to leave it alone. azami even said he sees sakyo as a dad 🥺

besides azami, sakyo also fusses over his other kids tho he has difficulty being honest abt his feelings. he's v strict abt the company budget (they're all in a theatre company called mankai company btw) but it's bc when he joined the company was in crippling debt so he doesn't want them to go through that again and lose their home. he also expressed disappointment that he wasn't the first one to take banri drinking when banri became of age which is so dad behaviour to me <3"

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/718796278743678976/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

“​O-Oh, it’s like anything, really,” he shrugged affably with a smile-he was unused to being asked about his art, so this question briefly caught him off-guard as he looked up to face her, giving a little shrug as he said, “Y-You know, practice makes perfect and all!”

He’d been drawing for a lot of years: Although he was never formally taught, in some ways, Randall picked up this skill from his father, who was a casual sketch artist himself, having come to the States with a sketchbook in one pocket and a guidebook to the English in the other, oftentimes sketching his surroundings when he wasn’t practicing a new language and, later on, sketching his wife and son when he had a free moment. When Randall was a boy, and Wilhelm was in recovery, he would sometimes sketch things (at least, when the shakes had stopped) between sips of iced tea, and so, Randall himself found himself following in his footsteps, first drawing little pictures in the dirt with a stick, before graduating to sketchbooks of his own the older he got. He still had some of his old ones kicking around in his room, and still carried one with him to work on between customers.

As for painting, well, that was a bit more of a recent thing: He’d managed to save up for a paint set (a relatively cheap one, but he didn’t mind), and had been practicing off and on during the weekends; he wasn’t exactly sure how good he was at it, honestly, but Emily seemed to like it, and that was enough for him.

After giving it a moment of thought, he then looked to her with a smile, asking, “W-Would you like to give it a try?”

[multiversal-madness]

Professor Layton Au - Pandora's Call

((I have made an intro post for this au before but it's been a while and things have changed so here we go))

The Pandora's Call Au follows the idea of pairing the games (+ the movie and crossover) and merging them together, combining the stories and mysteries while changing some other story details to fill the gaps left behind.

The namesake of this Au (and the first combination to be created), Pandora's Call is the combination of Pandora's Box and Spectre's Call.

It follows the Professor and his new assistant Emmy as they investigate the Elysian box. They follow its trail to the ghost town Folsense where they must uncover the secrets behind the spectres — two large and formless entities that fight in the streets — the Spirit — a figure commanding the animals of the town into harassing visitors — and the Golden Kingdom — a castle rumoured to be buried beneath Folsense originating from the Azran.

The Black Ravens are instead the Raven's Guild located in Dropstone and while they do participate in the market, they're more so 'adventurers' that oversee most of the travel to the ghost town.

Arianna isn't sick, Tony doesn't dress up as Seamus and Evan Barde doesn't die, they live in Dropstone together peacefully.

Instead of the manatee like creature she is in canon, Loosha is instead a Quetzalcoatlus that flew out of the Golden Kingdom when she was small enough for Luke to hold.

And Luke Triton is instead Lord Luke Herzen, the grandson of Duke Anton Herzen, raised by his grandfather in Folsense with his only contact with the world outside Folsense being when he uses the animals of Folsense to scare away outsiders.

The other game pairings in this Au are as follows:

Eternal Diva + Curious Village — Eternal Village

St Mystere exists on the island of Ambrosia, the looming tower is mixed with Descole's castle and the Whistler and Reinhold families are combined. Flora and Melina are sisters and Melina's consciousness is put into a robot after she dies.

Miracle Mask + PLvsAA — Mysterious Mask

Labyrinthia is its own world accessible through the Akbadain ruins which is where Randall ended up when he fell, the magic is real (but bound to that one area) and the one behind the Masked Gentleman is the Storyteller (Descole isn't in this one due to Dahlia related injuries).

Lost Future + Azran Legacy — Lost Legacy

Mostly follows the plot of Azran Legacy, but Bill Hawks has disappeared in a time machine related incident and someone claiming to be Luke from the future joins them on their journey. Targent makes it to each location first so they have to use a rudimentary time machine that can only go back a few days to let them collect the eggs first. Also Clive is Luke's half brother, though he has to wear a purple wig to cover his blonde hair.

I do have some extra details for what happens outside the main 'games' as well, though this post is getting long so I'll put them under the cut for anyone who's interested (sorry it's also pretty long):

Clark and Brenda have been dead for around 10 years by the time Pandora's Call starts (though Brenda isn't quite gone), though Clark's death was confirmed while Brenda went missing on her own accord and was presumed dead

Losing Clark and then Brenda in short succession then only a few years later losing Claire left Hershel in a very bad place, he withdrew more so than before and became more reckless in the cases he'd pursue

After being beaten up by the government, Lucille and Roland were worried about him only having them and his mentor Dr Schrader to support him so Lucille called the Ledore household and asked if they would be willing to check in on Hershel, which they agreed and Henry went to go check on him

It was rocky at first, but Henry reaching out really helped Hershel and the two became friends again, Angela joining them too, though with Monte d'Or they couldn't be there all the time

During Hershel's 'reckless era' Henry would often be the one to come over and make sure he's eating enough and looking after his injuries (both from the government incident and injuries he gets while being reckless)

He has two major injuries around this time, one from before the Government beat down and one that ended his 'reckless era' and made him realise he couldn't keep doing this

The first happened the day Claire died. A young boy ran into the burning building next door to the lab to look for his parents and Hershel ran after him, burning his hands in the process of saving the kid

The second was when he was in a particularly bad place mentally, when he decided to look into the case of Claire's death a second time. He got further with his investigation, but then he was jumped and beat up worse than the first time, severely damaging one of his legs in the process and needing it to be amputated from the knee down (When it heals enough he gets a prosthetic, but he also carries a foldable cane and crutches in case he needs them)

On a brighter note, his reckless era did bring about one good change and that was running into his old 'friend' Paul who had also gotten involved in some shady dealings. After escaping the people Hershel was investigating/Paul was getting even with, they ended up reconnecting (things were a bit more complicated than that but this post is already too long-)

This Au's Hershel is a lot tidier than his canon counterpart, he also tends to collect odd souvenirs from his travels (traits he's picked up from Clark and Brenda, *gestures to 'guy who's nothing but the people he's lost' post*)

He's also a bit quicker to go against law enforcement when they're interfering with his investigations (nothing extreme of course, but he's definitely hidden evidence he hasn't had a chance to observe properly before an inspector could take it away)

And that's all I'll share for now. I have a lot planned for this Au and eventually I want to write a few fics for it too (a multichapter fic for each 'game' and a few oneshots too, though it is a very ambitious project) so we'll see what happens.

[heal-the-ashes]

Random PL related facts about me I've been wanting to share but never have (and that changes today). It's only two facts, but maybe I'll have more to share eventually.

One: I've consistently spelled Don Paolo's name wrong. Even after I finished all 6 main games. Guys, it was only when I went on here when I realized, Oh god. His name is Don Paolo. Not Dan Paolo.

Two: I spent about 10 real life years thinking Randall was dead. Maybe more. I only played the games this year. A family member played MM when it came out. I was too young to understand puzzles. But. But when I watched them play. They were at the end of Akbadain. And I saw the whole cutscene. All I knew was I saw a boy fall and that boy Loved Puzzles.

I never forgot him. I kept wondering what happened to The Boy Who Loved Puzzles And Fell. Who Was Also Related To Masks.

Sometime when... idk, maybe around the same time/age, my family members watched Eternal Diva.

I saw it with them, because Oh! Funny Hat Man Who Speaks Weirdly Is On A Ship With My Favorite Blue Character Luke!

And there's—(gasp)—a guy with a mask!

I thought. Guys. For the entire like decade. I thought Randall and Descole were the same person. (This is where TEoA came from btw)

And I thought Randall's name was "Randy". (Remembered only like a year ago. Me wanting to find out what happened to "Randy" (and now being able to) made me play all the games.)

However, I'd like to add what I call "the cutscene that isn't there at all," which probably was a dream or my own made-up reason for "The Boy Who Lost Randy".

Hershel indeed had the mask. My childhood brain didn't understand why "Randy" didn't give The Other Boy the mask. So, in my childhood brain's version, he did. In fact, I think it was a whole imagined cutscene where The Other Boy, after Randy's hand slipped from his, tried again to reach for him. But what was in his grasp next was not the warm embrace of his friend's hand—It was the cold, lifeless mask that doomed his friend. And going back to "the surface" as I thought it to be, The Boy Who Survived went to inspect the mask. To use it. To figure out why it took Randy's life.

And it. Didn't. Work.

Whatever it was supposed to be used for, The Boy didn't know what it was. He didn't know why it didn't work. I knew it had some sort of power—It just refused to activate.

And The Boy was so unbelievably upset: He threw the mask, being within a green-themed office with other archeological artifacts. The mask hit other items, knocked them off shelves, broke some things.

The Boy Who Survived hated it.

He hated the mask—and everything he was doing. Because there was nothing he could do to save his friend. To get answers. To have peace.

The Other Boy may have walked away from it in my childhood brain's version.

But I never did.

But I also could never play it until now. Though, whenever my friends, years and years later, told me: "Let's do an escape room!" or whenever I saw a puzzle…

I thought of him.

I thought of The Boy Who Fell.

I was reminded about how passion can sometimes lead to success or victory. Or crumbling defeat. Or loss that was too great to even imagine at a whole, wider scale.

It was only the December of 2023 that I realized I could find out what happened to Randy.

I looked up, "Professor Layton and the Mask". Miracle Mask showed up. It had to be it.

I looked up, "Professor Layton and the Mask Randy".

Randall Ascot showed up.

And I.

Found.

Out.

The Boy Who Fell... never died.

The first thing I sought to do was watch Eternal Diva. It was the first thing I had available.

And then I found out that The Masked Man was NOT "Randy". I went so, so long believing that they were the same person.

That The Other Boy grew up, adopted a kid (im sorry i didnt know the lore but i thought luke was adopted by him), and decided to go on a cruise vacation. On said cruise vacation, an evil guy showed up and was making a bunch of people disappear and fall from inside the ship. He was evil. He was bad.

But The Other Boy Who Was Now A Man With An Adopted Kid cornered The Bad Guy With The Mask. In a room on the ship, btw. The Detragiganto didn't exist.

They were almost the only ones left. They were The Survivors of the Masked Man's Game.

The Eternal Diva—the woman that the movie was named after—flew in the room, because she was a ghost, and absolutely obliterated The Masked Guy Who Was Bad.

She revealed his identity.

She revealed that he was Randy.

The Man Who Didn't Remember Because He Fell.

And The Man Who Survived All The Way Back Then was so, so, so saddened. So betrayed.

I'm quite happy. I'm happy that I can think of puzzles without thinking about The Boy Who Fell and The Boy Who Survived.

That every battle of wits was no longer a battle of life.

Oh, it sounds dramatic, but don't pity me. It's so, so hilarious to me. LMAO

I'm glad I can finally share this.