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persephones-journey · 10 months ago

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#5, #10, #12 and #17 for the cozy prompt, pretty please :3 with Finan and OC of your choice! thank you 🥰😘

Happy Finan Friday! Enjoy!

5 Doing a Jigsaw puzzle

Finan held Ripley in his arms as she sat between his legs. His arms were reaching around her as she leaned back in his chest sipping her wine as he made the jigsaw puzzle.

“I can't believe we are actually doing this,” she muttered as she sipped her wine before placing it back on the coffee table.

Finan shrugged. “Why not? It's not like there is anything else for us to do.”

He looked at Ripley when she turned and looked at him. She poked him in the chest. “You are just saying that because Uhtred commented on how you can never sit in the quiet. That you always have to be on the move.”

He sighed. “All right, so it got to me,” he muttered. He looked at Ripley's moss green eyes. “I just wish to sit in the quiet with ya for a bit. I miss being around ya, Annie.”

He saw her blush and knew that she wouldn't push him anymore. He knew that she wanted to spend time with him as well. He had been gone off taking pictures of war zones and he just needed the quiet with his best friend for a bit.

“Okay,” she answered. She turned and looked at the puzzle. “But for the love of God, Fin, you know you need to find the corners first,” she added.

Finan snorted. “No, ya do the middle and work ya way out.”

Ripley eyed him. “Wow,” she said as she turned to the puzzle and began moving the pieces around to find the corners, “Ireland's education system leaves a lot to be desired.”

He pinched her side and she laughed. He moved his arms around her putting the pieces together. She found the corners and began putting together the sides.

They fell silent as they worked. Finan would never admit out loud how much he loved the feeling of having Ripley so close to him. He had been away from her for close to a year. He hadn't been able to talk to her much over that time and had mailed her some letters but it was not the same.

There was nothing compared to having her close to him, her back pressed against his chest. He would lean in and he could smell her shampoo and her body wash. He rested his chin on her shoulder and rested his arms around her waist as she began connecting the smaller parts he had put together with the sides she had done. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

He hadn't truly relaxed or let himself breathe. In the war zone, he could never sleep soundly, waking every couple of hours worrying he heard gunshots and screams. And then there were the nightmares. They echoed in his mind and always got worse when he was in the middle of a war zone taking pictures.

With Ripley was the only time they were quiet and left him alone.

There in her living room, with her in his arms, he healed from his experience. He was able to push it away into the dark parts of his mind and not think of it again. She was his lighthouse. She was the one who always guided him home.

He ached to tell her all that but he feared losing her.

So, he stayed silent.

“There,” she said softly. “Finished.”

Finan opened his eyes and looked at the puzzle. It was one he had picked up because he had thought of Ripley as he looked at. It was a painting, The Accolade by Edmund Blair Leighton. It was one of Ripley's favourite paintings. She had a replica hanging in that very room, above the television.

“I like it because it reminds me of history. Ladies and knights, courtly love. Things my father taught me a bit about,” she had told him when he had helped her hang it.

“Ya were right,” he whispered to her. “I should have did the corners first.”

She laughed. She leaned back into him and he held her. “I missed having you here,” she answered.

He kissed her temple. “I missed being here.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close. She didn't pull away or push him away. He glanced at her and saw that she had closed her eyes, relaxing into him. He leaned back against the couch and let himself relax as well.

He promised himself not to leave her for that long ever again.

10 Listening to Podcasts

Aisling walked into the loft and slammed the door. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. She took slow, deep breaths. Her students that day had definitely tried her patience more than ever before. She opened her eyes when she heard Finan in the kitchen.

“Okay, listen,” he said speaking to their large orange tabby cat, Duke, “Mom is going to be home soon. Can ya please not cry bloody murder at her like I haven't fed ya? Cause we both know that I have fed ya. I fed ya twice.”

She smiled. She pulled off her toque and pulled off her messenger bag. She dropped it on the floor smiling as she heard Duke immediately meow the moment he had heard it and Finan curse.

“We talked about this,” Finan groaned.

Aisling placed her toque on the shelf by the door and reached down to pull off her boots. She dropped those on the rack and smiled as Duke walked towards her, his tail up in the air meowing the whole way. She pulled off her jacket and hung it beside Finan's on the hook.

“Hi baby boy,” she said as she picked Duke up and held him in her arms as a baby. She kissed his little head. “How was your day?” she asked.

“He got fed twice and still refused to listen to me,” Finan answered as he walked out of the kitchen with a glass of wine for her.

Aisling smiled as Finan stepped closer to her. She accepted the kiss he pressed to her lips as she took the glass of wine. She pulled away and walked over to the couch.

“You know Duke is a Momma's Boy,” she answered smirking.

Finan snorted. “Of course he is,” he eyed her. “Bad day?”

She sat on the couch and let go of Duke, smiling when he climbed up and laid down on her chest and stomach. She nodded.

“Yes. Too many students bought into the Ricardian propaganda,” she said. She sighed and closed her eyes. “One even suggested, with a straight face, that maybe Perkin and Lambert were actually Edward and Richard.”

Finan snorted. “Are they still alive?” he asked.

She looked at him. “Sadly, yes,” she muttered as she sipped her wine.

He laughed. “I'm going to go and make dinner and-.”

“Babe,” she said softly. “Can we order in?” she asked as she looked at him.

His brown eyes looked at her. He smiled. “Order in and listen to your favourite true crime podcast?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Finan nodded. “I'll go order us some Chinese right now.”

Aisling smiled. “I love you.”

He smiled back. “I love ya as well.”

She patted Duke, scratching his chin and cheeks as she heard Finan walk back into the kitchen and order the food. She sipped her wine and listened to Duke's purring. It soothed her and she began to relax. She looked up when Finan walked into the living room again, carrying the bottle of wine and another glass. He set both on the coffee table before walking over and dimming the lights. She watched as he walked over to the bookshelves and grabbed the wireless speaker that was there. He set that on the corner of the coffee table as well.

“Ya want to go change into your pjs?” he asked her.

She smiled. “You are perfect,” she whispered as he walked over and leaned over her.

He smirked. “Oh aye, I know,” he answered as he winked.

She laughed and Duke jumped down off her chest. Finan leaned in and kissed her lips. She kissed him back. She sighed when he took her wine glass.

“Have a nice hot shower as well,” he answered softly. “The food should be here when ya are done.”

She smiled against his lips. “That sounds perfect.”

He took her wineglass and she let him. He pulled away and set it on the coffee table and she got up. She hugged him and he hugged her close as well. She felt him kiss her temple and he slapped her ass playfully.

“Go,” he said.

She pulled away and nodded. She left Finan in the living room as she walked down the short hall, ready to wash the day off of her.

Close to an hour and a half later, she walked back down the short hall, wearing one of Finan's old t-shirts her damp hair curling around her shoulders. She smiled as she found Finan setting out the take out containers while eyeing Duke, who was sniffing around the coffee table.

“Ya are not getting any,” he told Duke. Duke meowed at him. “I don't think so. I did not order any shrimp.”

“Jokes on you,” Aisling said. “You know that Julia adores him and would have given a container with shrimp and chicken for him anyway,” she added speaking of the daughter of the Chinese restaurant owners. Duke was fond of going for walks and since the Chinese restaurant was only a street over, they had walked him over there often. Since meeting him, Julia, whenever she was working and they ordered, made sure Duke got his own little container with shrimp and chicken in it for him. Sometimes even pork belly.

She sat beside Finan on the couch. She watched as he tapped a contained with his finger. She looked at it and laughed. Written on the side was 'Duke' with a little heart beside it.

“I swear, that cat gets more love than I do,” Finan muttered.

Aisling leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

He huffed but said nothing.

She took the container and got up. She walked towards the kitchen. Duke followed her, his little feet thumping softly on the old wood floors. She took his dish and grabbed a fork. She put about half of the container in the dish. She smiled when she saw shrimp and pork belly, all cooked without seasonings.

“Here you go, baby,” she said as she set his dish down. “You can have the rest tomorrow night.”

“She gave him enough for two meals?” Finan called.

Aisling didn't say anything. She closed the container and put it in the fridge right away. She walked back to the living room and sat down beside Finan again. She saw that he had her phone, the podcast ready to go. He looked at her as he handed her chop sticks. She nodded and he pressed play. She smiled as the soothing voice filled the room.

And so they ate dinner listening to the Aussie voice talk about an Australia murder that Aisling hardly knew anything about. Truthfully, she didn't care much about it. It was the voice, the accent that she liked. His soothing Aussie accent helped her relax.

She finished eating and sat back into the couch as Finan picked up the left over and some empty containers. She refilled her glass of wine, noticing the bottle was almost empty. She sipped her wine and closed her eyes.

Several moments later, she heard another bottle being placed on the coffee table. She opened her eyes and smiled as Finan sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. She snuggled close to him. He took her wine glass and had a sip. She smiled as he sighed and placed the glass on the coffee table. He kissed her head.

“How are ya feeling now?” he asked softly.

She snuggled closer to him. “Happy and relaxed,” she answered. She pressed her hand on his chest. “Kinda wishing you had an Australian accent though.”

Finan pinched her and she laughed. She reached out for her wine glass and sipped some more. She heard Duke walk back into the room. A moment later, he had jumped on the couch and was laying across Finan and her legs. She placed the wine glass on the coffee table again and looked at Finan. He smiled and stroked her cheek.

“Just a cozy night with ya two favourite boys was all ya needed,” he answered.

She smirked. “Duke and Ryan, podcast guy?” she asked.

He growled and pinched her ass cheek. “Not funny.”

She leaned in and placed a soft peck against his lips to soften the blow. He held her close and she snuggled down, her face pressed into his neck.

Yes, all she needed was a cozy night with her favourite boys to recharge.

12 Going Ice Skating

“I cannot believe ya talking me into this,” Finan muttered as he sat on the bench.

“Oh hush,” Carwyn said from her place kneeling on the ground in front of him. She was tying his skates. “You will do fine,” she told him.

“Have ya ever seen an Irishman on ice?” he demanded. “No, ya haven't. There is a reason we don't skate.”

“Too busy river dancing?” she asked glancing up at him.

He scoffed and met her hazel eyes. He saw the laughter in them. He found himself smiling. “Aye, too busy river dancing.”

She finished tying his skates and stood. He looked at the skates on her feet. She held out her hands. “Come on, Finan,” she said smiling. “I've got you.”

He sighed but he stood, holding her hands tightly in his. She smiled and took a step back. He took a step forward. And another. He found that it wasn't that hard to walk. He looked up and saw the ice rink come up behind Carwyn. She stopped at the side, at the door and stood beside him. She held his hand tightly.

“You can do this,” she told him as she turned and looked at him. “I mean, you are a big bad Irishman.”

He snorted. “Who had the stupid idea to come to Canada to have a real white Christmas,” he said.

Carwyn laughed and she leaned in and kissed him on the corner of the mouth. “I'll make a Canadian out of you yet,” she said.

Finan doubted that was possible but didn't say anything. Instead, he held Carwyn's hand and arm and stepped onto the ice after she had. He was grateful when she reached out with her other hand and grabbed his as he slipped. She skated close to him and smiled at him.

“There is nothing to this,” she said softly.

He raised an eyebrow. “This is a lot to this,” he said as he moved both of feet at once. She pressed a hand to his chest. “A lot going on that if I don't do right, I end up on my ass.”

Carwyn laughed and, to prove she was a show off, skated backwards as she tugged him along. “I fell a lot when I first started skating.”

Finan eyed her. “Why did ya keep getting back up?”

“Determination,” she answered. She pulled him closer and he wrapped his arms around her. She smiled up at him. “And the hot chocolate I was promised after if I finally managed to skate a straight line.”

Finan smirked. “Ya were bribed.”

She continued to skate backwards pulling him along. “Oh, I was,” she leaned in closer. “Would you like me to bribe you?”

Finan nodded. “I would. I am hurt ya didn't even try first.”

She sighed. “If you stay upright and can skate a straight line, I'll get you a hot chocolate.”

Finan gripped her waist tight and pulled her closer. “I want more than just a hot chocolate.”

Carwyn blushed and shook her head. “Hot chocolate is what you get, buster,” she went to skate backwards more, “now all you have to-.”

Her skate hit a bump and she fell backwards. And since Finan was holding her so close and so tight, he went down as well. He landed on top of her on the ice. He quickly pressed his hands, in mittens, to the ice and leaned over Carwyn.

“Ya didn't hit your head, did ya?” he asked concerned.

She laughed and shook her head. “No, the only thing that took a hit here was my ego.”

Finan laughed. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. “No hot chocolate for you,” he told her in between kisses.

She laughed again and punched his side. He laughed more.

Maybe ice skating was a good idea after all.

17 Taking a Long Nap

Tate sighed and groaned when she felt Finan's arms pull away from her. She opened her eyes and watched as he got up. She reached for him.

“Where are you going?” she asked softly.

He turned back and took her hand. “To put another log on the fire. It's getting a tad chilly in here,” he answered.

She sighed. She squeezed his hand. “Bring back chips,” she said.

“Ya are not eating chips in bed,” he answered.

She groaned and pulled her hand away. She sat up and cursed. “Then we will continue this in the living room,” she muttered as she climbed out of bed.

She grabbed the two thickest blankets from the bed and wrapped them around herself before she walked out of the bedroom. She heard Finan chuckle behind her but he followed her. She walked into the open front room of the tiny wood cabin and plopped herself down on the couch. She cocooned herself in the blankets and watched as Finan walked over to the large fireplace. She looked out the window and saw the snow still falling.

Finan had rented them a cabin for the week as a nice staycation. It was up in the mountains about a three hour drive from the city but the view was spectacular.

When it wasn't snowing all day.

They had gotten there the day before and about two hours after they had arrived, it had started snowing and hadn't stopped.

“All right, do ya have a preference for chips?” Finan asked as he placed a couple more logs on the fire and looked at her.

She shook her head. She stopped. “Actually, those Doritos we brought,” she said.

He nodded. “All right,” he turned and walked towards the kitchen.

She eyed his shirtless torso with his grey sweatpants worn low on his hips. She leaned back on the couch and smirked. She hugged the blankets around her and watched as Finan grabbed the bag of Doritos and went to walk back into the living room. He stopped and turned around. She leaned towards the side, pressing her face against the back of the couch. She smiled as she heard him open the cupboard and it close a moment later.

“Red, all right?” he asked.

“Did I drink all the pink moscato?” she asked.

She heard bottles moving around the counter. And after the door of the fridge opening. “Looks like it, love,” he answered.

She sighed. “I knew I should have bought a whole case.”

Finan chuckled. “There is the white moscato left.”

Tate sighed dramatically. “Fine, I will drink my second favourite wine then,” she muttered.

Finan laughed more but didn't say anything else. She kept watch and saw him walk back out of the kitchen, Doritos, bottle of wine, and one glass. She moved towards the middle of the couch. She pulled the blankets from around her. She smiled as Finan handed her the bag of Doritos and sat behind her on the couch. She opened the bag and began munching as he poured a generous glass of wine for her.

She leaned back against him smiling as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She took the glass of wine from him and he pulled the blankets around the both of them. She took a sip and sighed.

“Not as good as the pink,” she sighed, “but good enough.”

Finan chuckled. He took the bag then and grabbed a couple of Doritos. “So, what should we do until the snow stops?”

Tate sipped her wine some more before handing the glass to Finan. He took another large sip before he set it aside on the coffee table. She nibbled more on the Doritos before handing him the bag. He took another handful and set the bag beside the glass.

“Probably what we have been doing since we got here,” she answered as she turned and looked at him. “Napping.”

She opened her mouth and Finan placed a small chip in it. He finished his chips and she snuggled close to him, her back against his chest. She felt him kiss her neck and his hands running up the racer back tank top she had worn to bed that matched her cute bootie shorts.

“Sounds like a plan,” he answered, nuzzling his nose in her neck. “We can shovel tomorrow.”

Tate snorted and closed her eyes as she rested her cheek on Finan's bare shoulder. “You can shovel. I'll sit here by the fire keeping it burning until you come in.”

Finan pinched her sides and she squirmed in his arms until he wrapped them around her again and held her close. She sighed and felt his hands rubbing her back arms and stomach. She felt herself already beginning to drift off to sleep.

“Sounds like a plan,” he whispered as his fingers traced symbols in her skin. “I love napping with ya,” he added with a soft kiss to her temple.

She smiled. She turned and pressed a kiss to his bare skin. She let her fingers dance along his skin. “I love napping with you too,” she whispered.

She felt Finan rest his chin on her head as he held her closer. She pulled the blankets around them more and snuggled more into him. His warmth surrounded her along with that of the blankets.

She drifted off to sleep again in the arms of the man she loved, feeling loved and warm.

#my writing #Finan Friday #prompts

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susuvcarnival · 5 months ago

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05.06.24

22:08

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niallandtommo · 9 months ago

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without being too nosy i’d love to know what you’ve been doing on your trip! i’ve wanted to do a solo ireland trip for a while and seeing you post about yours just makes me want to more :)

yessss do it!! i love it so so much. so i've only been here since monday but i've already done some really cool things and i can recommend all of them!

on monday afternoon i just walked through the city because i was pretty exhausted after my flight and i didn't have a lot of time. i walked through grafton street (which is like a popular shopping street) all the way to st. stephen's green park and then back through temple bar (which is a very popular area in dublin).

on tuesday i went to howth which is kinda like an island (i think the correct term is peninsula i have no idea i had to google this lmfao) which is only a 30 minute train ride from the city and i did the howth cliff walk which was absolutely incredible. it's not too long but definitely long enough to kinda get that ireland feeling and to enjoy the nature. after that i just walked around the city for a little bit because i just love walking around and exploring the city.

and today i went to dún laoghaire (20 minute train ride to get there) and i basically just spent 3 hours at the harbour because it was so gorgeous. walked to the west pier lighthouse and again just enjoyed the view. it was very very windy but not too cold so i had a great time!! after that i drove back and did a guided tour through the city for like two and a half hours. it's called the highlights and hidden gems walking tour and the tour guide was really nice and funny! definitely recommend doing that tour because they tell you a lot about irish history, the irish language and lots of interesting things.

#Anonymous

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egglantine23 · 2 years ago

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All right reading Percy Jackson now got through the first series now on to heroes of Olympus but I wanted to share a little bit of an idea that I thought would be cute so I know at the end of the series when Percy's all like pay your child support Poseidon does say that Percy is his only kid. However at a cute little OC idea. And it will keep this whole Poseidon thinks that Percy's is only kid. I have named her Molly she's a selkie from Ireland. Grandma is also a selfie and her Grandpa is a lighthouse keeper along with her mom. She lives with her grandma grandpa and Mom, the reason why Poseidon didn't bring her up is because at like 2 months old she technically dies and her grandma goes to the Irish sea god(can't spell his name don't want to look it up) and begs him to turn her into a selkie like her. He does and molly gets another chance at life. I kind of want the Celtic gods to be very different to the Norse and Greek gods and how we see them act especially since we know in Canon that a lot of the Celtic gods have faded. Sort of like they cling to each other quite a bit maybe they're a lot nicer to their children and actually raise them because they've lost a lot of people in their life that they thought would last forever. AKA family is very important. Maybe for one reason or another a Celtic god needs something done because they're super busy and helps the foreign demigods get to Camp Half-Blood safely in return along with some gold. But I would find funny is that maybe Percy Grover and annabeth wash up on the shores of Ireland right next to her family's lighthouse and Percy wakes up to this 10-year-old little girl with big black eyes and dark black hair wearing a white sealskin coat and bright yellow rain boots. And just freaking out when she smiles and he sees shark teeth. Now little Molly wouldn't get the same powers that her big brother has, she's a selkie and get some more minor version of a shapeshifting power like she's not good at it and really can only turn her teeth the shark teeth. She's kind of a quiet kid and she doesn't actually speak but she is also a seal so she's kind of like a little wild animal. Like when they brought her back to Camp Half-Blood one of the Hermes kids around her age decided to prank her and she played dead and it freaked them out. Her favorite food is eels for some reason and she doesn't like using silverware she'll use it but she prefers just to eat things with her mouth and hands. She's kind of a creepy child but after a while you just start to love her. She's a lot like deep sea creatures I have a feeling that Percy is more of the water itself and not be what actually is inside the ocean while she would be more like what's inside the ocean especially in the midnight zone. All right now I'm going to put it into a list of fun little head cannons about her.

So walk up to Percy at random occasions holding a muscle or a clam just eating it Percy does not know where she gets them

Percy doesn't know that she is a selkie or that she can turn into a seal for the first few months he knows her

She shows affection by biting people not too hard and never with the shark teeth just a little nibble

If she ever gets scared or back into a corner like when she first stopped her first monster she immediately goes to bite them with the shark teeth

She has tried on multiple occasions to eat Chiron

Because of this Dionysus finds her entertaining

She doesn't really make a lot of friends with the other half bloods at camp but those water ladies love her

She doesn't like capture the flag at all she finds it too loud too crazy and too scary she much prefer to sit on the sidelines and watch

To allow her to live on land and last more than a day she changes her coat into a necklace when she opens the little locket on the necklace it turns into the coat she can't speak if the coat is a necklace but even with her coat she doesn't talk much

She tends to daydream a lot so she ends up staring at a lot of people it's very creepy

One time she got Percy to give her a ride on his shoulders when they were going to dinner and she grabbed a bird out of the air

The first time she met her dad was when Percy brought her down to Poseidon's Castle or whatever to meet Tyson and there stepmom, she thought Triton was a eel and tried to eat him

Before Percy knew that she was a selkie he would visit the random seal that was sunbathing by the camp and just complain about things because the seal was a great listener and didn't speak for some reason

And she's a seal she's like a double goofball like going on her back getting random people to carry her not a lot of people know she can turn into a seal and she takes full advantage of that

#percy jackon and the olympians #child of poseidon #pjo #pjo oc #seal #and don't forget the Derpy seal smile #pjo au

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orleans-jester · 1 year ago

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“Wouldn’t be that embarassing. Whoever sees us would just assume that we had some crazy good sex,” Thomas said, a proud little smirk on his face. “Which we do, of course.”

“Now that’s an idea,” He chuckled, though apart from maybe Pokemon and Sailor Moon, he didn’t know much about anime. He could start. “Or I’ll just trim my hair a bit and look like one of the thousands of guys in a boy band. They all had the spiked up hair.”

“If you see any on the way, let me know,” Thomas agreed willingly enough. Camping under the northern lights sounded a lot more romantic, anyhow. Fuck the law and all that, he might be able to get a sympathetic Irish cop who would understand the enchantment of such a thing. Trespassing didn’t always mean a bad thing. “Even just sleeping bags, I’ll keep you warm, love.”

“All of it,” He grinned. “Whether we sleep on the cold hard ground or in the softest bed, I’m only happy if it’s with you.” And he meant that, even though he was grinning, glad of his own little joke. He thankfully hadn’t had to spend many nights on the ground, he wasn’t Bastien who was used to dirty floors and newspaper blankets. But he could tough it out, he was sure of that. The wolf knew the ground more intimately than himself. “Never any shrinkage around you.”

“It’s the idea of there always being a light to bring you back home, no matter how far out into the dark you might adventure at times,” He said, giving his own perspective about lighthouses. “If you’re lost, you will be found and that sort of thing. I also remember hearing about lighthouse keepers. The kind that were dropped off on a small island somewhere for months at a time, having only each other for company. Could be the kind of thing that makes a person go mad but - I kind of fancy that life sometimes. You and me - a small island, staying cozy, really getting to know one another, each and every habit, and love growing from that.” He spoke like he was in a reverie as his eyes watched the road. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind that for a while. But I wouldn’t give up our lives right now for all the lighthouses in the world.”

He started to laugh again, finding it charming that it was that memory that Flotsam associated with his ass. The time that he had gotten on a bike and Jetsam had jumped on, nearly making him lose his balance. Those had been some good days. He though of Jetsam ever once in a while, missed him even. “Cause they are real - we live many, many lives through those stories.”

He nodded as Flotsam told him about the hotel room. “Good to have options - and a kettle for my morning tea,” He smiled. Coffee was never his speed. Did he carry around a small tin of his own, with loose tealeaves for steeping just in case? Course he did - that might be appreciated here more since they were closer to England. The weather here in Ireland, the Emerald Isle because it fuckin’ rained all the time, was perfect for a good cuppa.

“Ahh, great, I’ll be able to put this fine ass in the same chair as the stars,” He chuckled to himself. He let the car fall into silence as Flotsam fell asleep. That was fine with him. His warmth was enough to make Thomas not feel lonely during the long drive, occasionally putting his hand on Flotsam’s leg or rubbing it calmingly as they went.

He would let Flotsam sleep until they got in close to the northernmost edge of Europe. He rolled the window down a touch and that familiar Ocean air was breezing through. Some people might hate it, but Thomas liked the salty smell. He thought of the Oceans as whole other worlds - full of strange creatures and endless depths. Depths so far below that no matter how much equipment people wore, the pressure would kill them before they got anywhere close to reaching the bottom. Terrifying, yes, but intriguing.

He could have stopped by the inn, had a rest, but he was feeling proper awake right now. It was starting to get late but he wanted to see the place at night before they turned around. The amount of stars out there tonight. He turned off the car, and then he lightly shook Flotsam. “Wake up, love, you’re going to want to see this.”

Flotsam noticed the Scout-doo Thomas was sporting and taming back into shape as they first drove away.

"It'll settle long before we get there, love. Don't worry. Always does. Wouldn't letcha embarrass yerself." He said as he reached over and gave comb through of his own fingers over and around his ear as he often did once settled in the car unable to quit touching the man.

"Although you know we have anime styles on lock if we really wanted for any costumed event." He teased. "We could both be mad styling."

He'd nod his head about the hotels. "Good idea."

Then he had a second thought. "Or camping store?"

He had no idea if people were allowed to hang around Malin Head over night considering how watched over Skellig was, but it was an idea. He'd look that up too momentarily not that he was always a rule follower, but he liked to know what he was getting himself into before he began.

"Exactly. You get me." Thomas seemed to understand right what Flotsam was trying to explain so all was right with the world. But, then he really started laughing.

"You, me, camping, or a good hotel bed? In more other words famous words of Jimi Hendrix. Are You Experienced? Fuck yeah I am and I know what happens in both situations. Aint gonna be no shrinkage here."

Then Flotsam contemplated lighthouses being romantic.

"Hmm. Never really thought about it. I heard Willem say that before, calls it his candle on the water, and I mostly just figured he was high and liked the ocean like me since he's a seafaring type guy. I do see artists always trying to paint them like it's some kind of symbolism. I've always gotten the ships and the anchors. People get those as tatts endlessly. I think what bothered me about lighthouses was it was the sign of trying to get back to land or reality while I was always trying to make it to the ocean or like get out of my head when it felt so far out of reach and reality sucked. I'm a poetic guy like that. Even Kuzco has a thing about lighthouses I noticed. Not entirely sure the story there except for his estate is also ocean side. I figure it correlates somehow. Willem's about it. Kuzco's about it. Even Sparky lived in one. She said it and I never went there out of spite of her family outside of riding some duck boats. It was on the river Mississip, not the ocean. Now you said it. That's it. I have to investigate this. We have to go up the lighthouse and see what all the fuss is about."

Flotsam loved Thomas was getting to do all the things he wasn't allowed if wanted to. That was golden. He wanted to be that for Thomas. Flotsam read somewhere most toy sales were from adults buying toys for themselves not children and that made him smile somewhere in his heart. People were allowing themselves to play more and not be so serious. When Harry Potter was mentioned Thomas said the most perfect thing. "That's it. You nailed it. That's exactly it. That's one of the many reasons I love your fine ass. Excuse me while I picture it on a bicycle again with Jetsam on the back because that booty fine. You're willing to do that with me. Everyone got boring and uptight. When we read a story, the words become a movie in my head. I see our movie everywhere. It becomes real."

Bilbo and Frodo indeed.

"I'm ready for our next adventure now."

If Flotsam was a video game his happiness meter would be rising to full.

"Okay, so I just booked us a hotel room in Donegal County not too far away to keep our options open. Also, luckily unlike Skellig this place does have actual toilets and coffee within human range since it's a peninsula not a remote tiny island. So, we're open to wing it and go with the flow do this however to our heart's content. Even a pub. Apparently the one all the Star Wars' actors hung out in since it was so close."

Flotsam leaned against the edge of his seat as the drive went on. Poor Thomas. Flotsam was going to get a snooze in before they got there and he wasn't.

#ThomasxFlotsam

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ereteinx · 3 years ago

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MEET MY MC

name: Vienna Maxine Byrne

faceclaim: (blonde) Chyler Leigh

birthday: 5th february 1993

zodiac sign: aquarius

nationality: american/irish

born: Dublin

raised: Dublin, moved to USA when she was 12

love interest: Ethan Ramsey

family: Vienna's the oldest from 4 siblings, she has a sister, Venice and two brothers, Lochlan and Lorcan. Also a twin nephew and niece.

some more information, funfacts and headcanons:

general:

●born in Ireland to Irish father and American mother

●aside from medicine, her passion while growing up was singing, she was a part of high school glee club and was basically a star

●Vienna has a soft spot for soccer and watching Lochlan play for national team is a dream come true

●she loves fantasy books, when she was younger she often spend whole days in her room reading.

●winter is her favourite time of the year, especially christmas, she's a sucker for a good christmas movie and hot chocolate.

●Vienna watched all seasons of Grey's Anatomy and even forced Ethan to watch a few episodes with her (but if asked he'll never admit it)

●First time Vienna felt something more for Ethan was Miami, she knew she was in love with him after the attack

●as their relationship started to be a basic knwoledge to everyone at Edenbrook, people started to notice Vienna's impact on Ethan.

●basically, simple "Ethan" and a hand over his shoulder was enough to calm him down and save another innocent intern.

●even the staff that knew Ethan for years never saw him smiling that much at work, yet even laughing, as when Vienna was around.

●seeing him bickering and joking with her around the hospital was a shock to many people.

●Vienna took his last name after the wedding and thanks to Ethan being mostly called "Chief" these days, it didn't cause much trouble.

●As Vienna once said "Ethan was all bark and no bite", she became the opposite. She was patient, she often didn't had a reason to even warn. But when she had enough, you better run.

●"The Ramseys" became a powercouple. As they walked together arm in arm through the hospital corridors, it screamed power.

●And their speeches as they welcomed new interns, standing above everybody. Power.

engagment, wedding and first pregnancy:

●Ethan proposed to her in January 2021, in Miami, on the same balcony where they had their first kiss and this time no one was stopping themselves from going further

●she gave her roommates (mostly Sienna) a heart attack when she came back from Miami as she told them, with a stone cold face "Ethan is no longer my boyfriend".

●after a few seconds of dead silence she added "because he's my fiance", and showed them a ring, Sienna started to hit her with dish cloth - she really thought they had broken up (if Elijah hadn't stopped her, there would probably be casualties)

●night in Miami had consequences

●Vienna found she was pregnant not even a month after their engagement, yet she was kinda scared to tell Ethan, as they never really discussed having kids, but in the end his reaction was priceless.

●yes, he cried and was the happiest Vienna ever saw him.

●they wanted to keep in private for as long as they could which turned out to be almost 3 months

●first person to realize Vienna was pregnant was Harper, one day during diagnostic team meeting, she looked at her, suddenly told her to stand up and just said "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

●Ethan become even more protective over Vienna and if he could he would became her shadow.

●he was scared every time he didn't saw her, even through he kept checking on her every half an hour.

●yes, they had a few spats about that.

●Ethan wanted her to go on a pregnancy leave really early, but of course Vienna wanted to work as long as she could, which gave Ethan his first grey hair.

●Flynn Naveen Ramsey was born on 19th November 2021 and since that day, Ethan Ramsey, a man who not so long before never imagined himself as a father, became the best dad a kid could have and his dream, he never even realized he had, came true.

●Vienna and Ethan's wedding took place in october 2022, at Naveen's lake house. It was small, private ceremony with family and closest friends.

●wedding reception was in gold and dark green theme, with a lot of fairylights and candles

●Sienna was Vienna's maid of honor and Tobias was Ethan's groomsman.

●they had their first dance to Everything by Lighthouse.

●Naveen's speech made everyone cry.

●just like Vienna's siblings speech, but this time it was from laughing.

●Flynn took his first steps on his own at the wedding.

kids:

●four and a half year later, on 2nd April 2025, their little family welcomed a baby girl - Harley Dolores Ramsey.

●Harley was the only planned baby

●on Christmas 2026, Vienna suprised Ethan with another ultrasound picture.

●newest and final addition to the Ramsey family was Anais Sienna Ramsey, born on 10th June 2027.

●Flynn is his father physical copy with longer hair, when it comes to his character he's the perfect mix between Ethan and Vienna.

●since he was a toddler he was fascinated with his parents work, so it wasn't a surprise to anyone when he decided to become a doctor as well.

●but he shooked his parents, when he announced he wants to be a surgeon (yet studying under Bryce, he become an outstanding one)

●Harley, on the other hand is defenitely Vienna's clone, no exceptions, she's just a little bit more of a tomboy than heir mother was.

●always wanting to help everyone and everything, never afraid to speak her mind. She wanted to make a change in the world.

●unlike her brother she didn't follow her parents footsteps, but she was always doing something, always founding someone she could help all around the world.

●Anais is a total mix. A little ray of sunshine, with dark, ginger hair and smile that lights up every room she shows up in.

●when she was four it turned out that she has photographic memory.

~~~~

So, hi 😅 it's my first time posting anything here. I've never wrote any fics (yet) but I had this in my notes for a long time so I decided to finally post something

I know it's a lot but OH's mc is defenitely my favourite

and I congratulate anyone who read the whole thing 😶

#ethan ramsey #choices ethan ramsey #choices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey #meet my mc #open heart #open heart choices

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 38: Statement of Kieran Blackwood, regarding...choice. Recorded direct from subject, twenty-fifth of March, 1997.

[CLICK]

KEEPER

When did you start using these for official statements?

GERTRUDE

If this were official, I would have you write it down. Most of the people who come in with a statement simply fill out the forms provided by the Institute.

KEEPER

So why not have me write it down? Why bother to listen?

GERTRUDE

Because I suspect that what you’re about to say would be…unwise to add to the Archives.

KEEPER

It’s not related to that statement, if that’s what you’re getting at.

GERTRUDE

I don’t think it is, no.

But I do think that, whatever it is that brought you here, it may not be something that needs to be available to everyone. I’ve begun recently making audio recordings of statements that I want my research to be…private, shall we say?

KEEPER

Or we could say “secret”.

GERTRUDE

(heh) Fair enough. Any live statements that I feel could be…useful, to myself or my successor if need be, go on the tapes as well. In this case, I suspect it may be both.

KEEPER

You may not be wrong.

GERTRUDE

Besides. I don’t know that I’ve ever had another…devotee of one of the Powers walk in off the street and offer me a statement. Call it curiosity.

KEEPER

I can certainly assuage that, Trudy.

GERTRUDE

Don’t call me that.

KEEPER

Sorry. Occupational hazard.

I’m sure you know how that goes by now.

GERTRUDE

I suppose I do.

Statement of Kieran Blackwood, regarding…

KEEPER

Choice.

GERTRUDE

Recorded direct from subject, twenty-fifth of March, 1997. Where would you like to start?

KEEPER

At the beginning, I suppose.

KEEPER (STATEMENT)

As long as there have been lighthouses in England and Ireland, there’s been a Blackwood manning at least one, probably dating back to the Dover Castle in Kent and leading all the way down to my father. My earliest memory is of him holding me as we stood on the railing, the beacon flashing across the night-darkened sea, keeping safe any ships that might be sailing by. He took his responsibility seriously, and so did I. I remember telling my best mate, a boy whose family lived next door to where Ma and I lived, that I was going to be a keeper myself one day. He asked how I knew, and I told him it was what we Blackwoods always did.

I told Dad that, too, and he took me on his knee and explained a few things. He said the Blackwoods had always been lighthouse keepers, not because we wanted to, but because we had to. He said I was going to be starting school in the fall and that I was a bright lad, so I’d have choices he never had. He told me he wanted me to do the best I could, and that when the time came, I could choose to be a keeper if I wanted, but it had to be my choice.

He died that winter. There was a bad ice storm, and while he was scraping the glass clear, he forgot to shield his eyes when the light came around. It blinded him, and he lost his balance and fell. Hit the rocks at the base. They found him washed up on shore the next morning. Ma took poorly and was in bed for a few days when we got the news, and I went to stay with my best mate until she could get up, but she never quite recovered. I was afraid Ma would want to move back to Ireland where her family was, but she said we had roots too deep in the Bournemouth soil to leave it now. Wasn’t until years later that I found out how little money we had—we couldn’t afford to leave. Then again, if Grandmother hadn’t left us her house, we wouldn’t have been able to afford to stay.

I still wanted to be a lighthouse keeper, but by the time I was ready for the eleven-plus, I knew I couldn’t. For one thing, Ma got into hysterics any time I mentioned it—like it would somehow be more dangerous than anything else I could have done, just because it killed Dad—but for another, they were beginning to automate lighthouses by then. Every year there were fewer and fewer jobs, and I’d have been lucky to get one. My grades were all right, but I knew I wouldn’t pass any of the tests needed to be a keeper.

If I couldn’t do that, I decided, I’d do something on the sea. My best mate and I used to play at pirates some when we were little, and we talked about doing that, but of course you couldn’t really do that. We thought about the Navy, too, but we agreed that whatever we would do, we would do it together. By the time we were sixteen, though, I knew I wouldn’t make him. He was smart, top of our class. I barely scraped by with a pass. So we made another deal, him and I. I’d go into trade, learn to sail, to fish, and he’d go on with his education, get a degree in business. Together, we’d build our own fishing company, go out together. Someday, we said, we’d have our own business, a business we could hand down to our sons if we wanted, if they wanted.

I found a job with a fishing crew. Deep-sea stuff, extended voyages. The money was good, so I could take care of Ma and save up a bit, too. And winters were my own, so I could spend them at home. I was a bit of an outcast among the crew, though, and not just because of my age. Even when they were together, they were silent and…distant. The captain was one of the owner’s sons, so of course he was too high and mighty to talk to any of us, but I always felt like he was…watching me. Like I’d disappointed him, even though I did everything right. I felt sometimes like I was the only one with connections on shore—not just Ma, but Walt. We were right close. Looking back…there might’ve been more there than we ever admitted, but it just wasn’t done.

Then I met Liliana.

Walt introduced us. Actually, he was just starting to date Sarah at the time and they needed a fourth for dinner, so Sarah invited her along. I won’t say it was love at first sight…truth be told, I won’t say there was ever love. I’m still not sure Lily’s actually capable of feeling positive emotions towards other people, to be honest. But we had some of the same interests, then. We both liked to dance, we liked the same books, the same foods. She introduced me to her father just before I went out that year, and the old boy and I hit it off, so when I got back in the winter we started keeping company again.

Ma died in January, and Lily came to the funeral, which I appreciated. The four of us got a bit drunk that night, and…well. I was getting ready for the next salmon run when she told me she was in the family way. I was just considering my options when Walt called and asked if I thought the crew could use another sailor, because Sarah was expecting, too. He was leaving school immediately—they needed the money.

I—I couldn’t let him join the crew. It felt like a waste, and I knew he’d want to be there for Sarah and the baby…and I kind of hoped he’d be there for Lily and mine, too, since I couldn’t be. Besides…something about Captain Lukas gave me the creeps. I wouldn’t willingly subject anyone I loved to to that. Luckily, my father-in-law had just mentioned to me that he needed a general handyman about the place. The pay was just as good, and Lily and I had made our home base not far away, so it seemed perfect. We had a quick double wedding, and I went out with the fishing run.

She gave birth right after I got home. We were a bit early back that year, come to think of it, but at the time it never occurred to me that there was anything odd about that; we’d hit quota, that was all. I didn’t love Lily, I told you that, but my God, when that doctor laid the baby in my arms and told me “it’s a boy”, I fell in love then and there. Walt’s boy was born about a month later. There’s a picture somewhere of the two of us, sitting on Alastair’s porch, rocking a pair of sleeping babes and talking.

At least, I hope it still exists somewhere. Brings me comfort thinking it does.

Walt died right when he said he would, three weeks before the fishing run started. The three of us went to the funeral, but Sarah screamed at Alastair before it even started. Accused him of killing her husband.

GERTRUDE

I can’t imagine—

KEEPER

Oh, it wasn’t. Complete accident. The old man wasn’t even home at the time, he’d taken the boys to a science exhibition of some kind. And I’m the one who found him, come to that. Sarah was just hurting and needed someone to blame. But it ended with her ordering us to leave. The look on Walt’s boy’s face when I pried mine away from him and said we had to go is one that still comes to me when I’m having trouble sleeping.

KEEPER (STATEMENT)

My boy and I got a lot closer after that. That boy was my world. My light. The beacon that drew me back to shore. I started calling him Wickie before he could talk. Lily hated that nickname, but then, she hated a lot of things.

She—she wasn’t strong. I don’t mean her health, necessarily, although I know it was a hard pregnancy and that’s when her troubles started. I mean her mind. It was so—easy for her to give into despair. We’d never been close, but we got further and further apart every year. We’d probably have fought more often than we did, but I wouldn’t put Wickie through that. Instead, I’d absent myself. That didn’t help.

Plans. Choices. They never go the way we mean them to.

I gave it one last chance, and it’s one I’ll probably regret to my dying day. The Lukases have a Christmas gala every year, but you have to be an officer on a vessel or serve fifteen voyages before you get an invitation. Suppose it’s to make sure you’re loyal enough to deserve it, but maybe it’s also to make sure you know the rules. I don’t know. The year Wickie turned eight was my fifteenth year with the crew, so I got the invite. It included the whole family. Lily was actually enthusiastic about it, but…she didn’t want to bring Wickie. Said he wouldn’t behave. I—I’m the one that insisted on giving him the choice. Of course he said he wanted to come.

I wish I hadn’t let him.

There were no other children there. That should have been my first clue something was wrong. None of the other sailors even had spouses or sweethearts. I was the only person besides the Lukases themselves who actually brought my family. Maybe the only one who had a family to bring.

I talked Lily into a dance or two. We used to like it, once, and for a song or two it seemed like we’d got back…well. It didn’t last. She said she was tired and wanted a drink. I found her a seat at a table where she and someone from the shipping side of the company could ignore each other and went to fetch her something, and I was looking around for Wickie. I—I found him, eventually. He was off to one side, looking scared, looking…lost. One of the Lukases—Peter—was talking to him. He seemed perfectly friendly, but I could see the fog rolling off him, threatening to engulf my boy. Didn’t seem to be anyone else who could see it, or maybe everyone was just ignoring it. He reached forward to tuck a curl behind Wickie’s ear, and the fog curled that much closer.

I admit I had a bit of a reputation for fighting when I was in school. Never unprovoked, mind you, but…well, between the fact that I was half-Irish and the fact that my best mate was darker than some people liked, I got in my share. I don’t have a temper, but I do have a protective streak a mile wide, and I’m not above acting on it.

As you might imagine, breaking your boss’s son’s nose isn’t exactly the sort of thing that looks good to your employers. I got Wickie and Lily and we left then. Took me the better part of the next week to convince Wickie it wasn’t his fault I’d got in a fight, but it rather put a damper on our Christmas. At the beginning of January, I got a rather terse letter from the Lukases telling me I’d not be welcomed back to the crew.

I…I didn’t tell Lily. I certainly didn’t tell Wickie. Lily was starting to get sick, I couldn’t have told you what it was, but we needed an income and now all we were getting was the bit she picked up at the tailor’s when they needed her. I was desperate to try and come up with something, anything, but nobody was hiring. I swear to you I was about three days away from coming to you and asking if you’d take on a new assistant when there was a knock on our front door one foggy night.

(heh) The fog should have been the clue, really, but it wasn’t, and like a fool, I opened the door. Peter Lukas was standing there. I almost shut the door in his face, but he told me he felt bad about me losing my post on the crew. Said my boy deserved better than an unemployed father, and he was there with an offer. Against my better judgment, I listened.

His family owned a lighthouse, he said. One it was important to keep lit, but just then it was without a keeper. He wanted to offer me the position.

I didn’t believe what I was hearing for a minute. The idea of actually getting my childhood dream after all…and from someone I had every reason to hate? I knew there had to be a catch, so I asked, and I was right. Peter told me it was a stag station, meaning no families; Wickie and his mother would have to stay.

I—I laughed. I asked him how big a fool I thought he was. I’d already told him once to stay away from my boy, and if I wasn’t there, what was to stop him from going after him? Peter took the contract out of his pocket and showed me a clause that explicitly said he would stay away from my son, as long as I kept the light. He gave me the paperwork and told me to think it over, and if I was interested, to sign it and send it back and it would all be taken care of, but warned me I’d have to leave by the time the season started.

That night, with Lily and Wickie both asleep upstairs, I read over that contract with a fine-toothed comb. It all seemed airtight. The pay was decent, enough to keep up with Lily’s medical bills at least, and the tasks were exactly what I would have expected. It wasn’t until I got to those last clauses that I realized what the catch was. It explicitly stated that the Lukases would stay away from Wickie as long as I held the position—but it also stated that I had to do the same. Should either one of us break the taboo and talk to him, it would be fair game for the other to do the same.

I didn’t have much time to think about it. The season was only a week away. I thought about asking Alastair, but I knew what he’d say—not to have anything to do with anyone tied to those things. He’d never been thrilled I worked for the Lukases anyway, but at least before I’d had some distance. This was…worse, somehow. I thought about taking Wickie and absconding in the night, but—but I couldn’t do that. He’s smart, Trudy, he can do so much, and I knew if we were on the run he’d lose so many opportunities.

There was only one choice, in the end. I signed the contract and mailed it off.

The night I left was the night I would normally have left for the fishing run, so I just…let Wickie think that was where I was going. Went through our usual routine. We had alphabet soup and cherry preserves for dinner, then I tucked him in and sang the old sea shanty I always sang the night before I left, to put him to sleep. Once he was asleep, I went downstairs to talk to Lily.

I won’t repeat the things I said to her. Suffice it to say I made sure she knew I wouldn’t be back, and…I let her believe that it was what she’d accused me of before. That I was leaving because of her, because I didn’t want to deal with her and her issues anymore. I left that night knowing I’d well and truly burned that bridge behind me.

Peter Lukas met me at the docks. We didn’t speak. Ignoring all the ships preparing to go out, we went down to the shore and began to walk, silently, until all others had faded away and it was just us, the sand, the waves, and the grey of the pre-dawn sky. And then…there was a door. An old oak door with a brass knob, supported by no structure, standing on the beach and waiting. Peter stopped, pointed at it, and said, simply, “The door to the Light.”

I didn’t ask questions. The time for questions was past. It was my last chance to choose differently…but even if I hadn’t signed that contract, I don’t think I could have chosen to do other than what I did. I shouldered my bag, took a deep breath, and strode through the door.

And I took up my duties as the Keeper of the Light.

It has no name. It needs no name. It’s just…the Light. Fifteen feet in diameter, made of brown stone, it stands on a mountain overlooking, not the sea, but a desert. A vast, impenetrable desert, with nothing as far as the eye can see. The beacon it shines over this desert is not white, but red, bathing the sands periodically in light the color of blood.

The first day I was there, I did an inventory. There were all the things I remembered my father having when I was a wee nipper, things I only vaguely remembered the purpose of, but I knew I’d learn quickly. I’d been told the light would be fully equipped at all times, and it was. The oil was full, there were plenty of fresh wicks, and all the tools were in perfect working order. There was a single bed, big enough for a single man to sleep, although not particularly comfortably. There was a table with one chair. There was one plate, one bowl, one cup, one fork and spoon and knife. The cupboards, I had been assured, were fully provisioned, but I wasn’t yet hungry, so I went to look at the rest of the light.

There were no windows, but there were pictures on almost every wall, each one framed in a different frame. Each picture looked like it was a windowpane, which I thought odd. Then I looked in one, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp. It was a window all right, and one I knew. It was looking into Wickie’s bedroom. I could see him, as clearly as if I was right there, hair rumpled with sleep, looking absolutely devastated. Lily was standing there, too, holding a picture in one hand. I think it was the photograph of the two of us he keeps on his nightstand. She must have been taking it away.

It hurt. I looked away and went to look at another picture. There was a little boy in it, looking—terrified. Upset. Like he wanted to cry or scream but didn’t know if he was allowed. He was reaching a hand out towards a house, where a young man was looking into an open door. He looked like something inside had caught him off-guard, and—something dark, something inside, was reaching out like it was going to grab him. There were cobwebs in all the corners, but they were part of the picture.

For a moment, I didn’t know why it was there—but then I gasped again. I recognized the boy, or thought I did. It looked like Walt, exactly like Walt had at that age. Then—then I saw the eyes. Walt’s eyes were blue, a bright, bright blue that outshone the ocean. This boy’s were a warm and guileless brown. Like Sarah’s. This was Walt’s boy.

The pictures aren’t static. They aren’t of things that were. I realized that as the days, weeks, went on. They change from time to time. I’ll see Wickie working away on his knitting, or Walt’s boy curled up with a book, or one of them standing outside and looking at the sky. It lets me…keep an eye on them, I suppose. But it aches. It’s the ache of separation and loneliness. I can’t look at them too often.

The only place to see out is from the railing around the light. It looks out over the desert, and from there, I can see everything. Doors appear periodically, more old oak doors with brass knobs supported by no structures. They never last long. Sometimes people stumble through them, and then the doors disappear. The people wander the desert. Their paths cross all the time, or go alongside one another, but they never talk, they never see. Each person in the desert believes themselves to be alone.

I can hear them sometimes. I hear them talking, desperately reaching out. They’re all looking for someone, all missing someone. They run for the doors when they see them, but they don’t always make it, and they don’t always see them. I wondered about those doors, about where they led…at first.

Three months in, I found out.

I was doing a perimeter check of the lighthouse, around midday. A door appeared, just in front of me. I walked closer to it, and it didn’t move. For me, the doors stay. I hesitated, then grasped the knob and opened it. The room beyond was dark, the hands of the clock indicating it to be later in the evening than I knew it to be where I was. Time doesn’t move the same way there, I supposed. Then I realized where I was. I was in Wickie’s bedroom. He was curled up asleep, having a nightmare, poor thing. I wanted to go over and comfort him. I’d actually taken half a step over the threshold when I stopped, when I remembered.

Choices.

I had the choice to go in, to see my boy, to hold him and let him know I loved him and would never stop. But if I did—if I do—then Peter Lukas can get at him. He’s so young, I know the—I know they don’t normally go for children, but…I worry. I can’t risk opening that door.

They keep appearing. More and more frequently. And now…the more attuned I am to the Light, the more I know what I’ll find on the other side. And it’s hard not to go through.

I can redirect them. Sometimes. Or maybe I can just open another one. One every…well. To me it’s one a year. But that’s the thing. As I said, time doesn’t move the same way in the desert that it does everywhere else. It’s been about a year, as far as you’re concerned, since I signed that contract and took the job. For me? It’s been more like ten. But I can a door and let it take me wherever I want. I’ve done it when the temptation is too strong. The last time was Christmas. (sighs) Wickie started in chorus this year. His first concert…I could have gone. Could have stayed in the back of the room, maybe, and just listened, just seen him. But what constitutes contact, what violates the contract? I couldn’t risk it. So I did the next best thing. I opened a door and went to Bournemouth and saw Walt’s boy. Didn’t talk, didn’t tell him who I was. Just stood on the shore next to him for a while. I wanted to…but I didn’t.

I don’t even know if he remembers. I couldn’t hurt him by giving him more memories. That would just make the loneliness worse when I did leave.

GERTRUDE

And you used one of these doors to come here.

KEEPER

That I did.

GERTRUDE

Why?

KEEPER

Thought you’d want to know. Honestly, I half didn’t expect to see you here. I assumed I’d have to wait for you, but your assistant—what was his name? The one that looks like he’s about twelve?

GERTRUDE

Michael.

KEEPER

Michael, aye. He told me you were in. Suppose it gets down to time being weird again.

How was it?

GERTRUDE

How was…what?

KEEPER

The funeral.

…You did go, didn’t you? Come on, Trudy, I know you’re all about keeping your past away from your present, but—

GERTRUDE

Don’t call me that. What are you talking about? What funeral?

KEEPER

Gertrude. What was Tuesday?

GERTRUDE

…My God.

KEEPER

Aye.

Lily wouldn’t be pleased to see me. Or you, for that matter. But Wickie…Lily’s making it all about herself, I’m sure. You know how she can be. I just…I hoped if I gave you my statement, you’d at least look in on him for me.

At least make sure he’s okay.

GERTRUDE

I…I’ll see what I can do.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

GERTRUDE

Final thoughts.

Well. I…I don’t know what to think. This is…useful information to have regarding the Lonely. And I’ll certainly be on the lookout for any old oak doors with brass fittings. But as for the rest…

I checked. Alastair Koskiewicz’s funeral was today, and I believe I have missed it. But I may be able to at least pay my respects. I will have to be discreet if I do. Lily made it very clear she wants nothing to do with me, and I have done my best to respect that. And I know I am…observed more often than I would like. The last thing I want is to draw anyone’s attention to Martin.

I don’t think I should tell him who I am.

And, since the Keeper’s statement mentioned it…I listened to Walter Sims’ statement again, and the dates he gave for both his own death and Alastair’s match exactly. I believe I will make one last attempt at reaching out to the Stoker family, especially now that Daniel will have been born. Perhaps they’ll be more likely to listen now. I don’t know what precautions they can take, but…they should (heh) at least have the choice. At the very least, perhaps they’ll be prepared when the time comes.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[STUNNED SILENCE, BROKEN ONLY BY THE SOUNDS OF SOMEONE—PROBABLY PAST MARTIN—STRUGGLING NOT TO CRY]

TIM

…Fuck.

PAST ARCHIVIST

I-I didn’t…I had no…oh, God.

PAST MARTIN

(tearfully) W-Walter Sims…was—was that—?

PAST ARCHIVIST

My father.

He—I never knew he—gave a statement. Or that he…

Was that the grandfather you told us about?

PAST MARTIN

Yeah.

[PAST MARTIN MAKES A SOUND—A LAUGH? A SOB? BOTH?]

Guess that explains the cherry thing, huh?

PAST ARCHIVIST

(softly) I guess so.

TIM

So—hah, so you two knew each other?

PAST MARTIN

I-I mean, we were two. That was…that was a long time ago. I didn’t—

PAST ARCHIVIST

No. Neither did I, I—

[FABRIC RUSTLES, A STARTLED “OOMPH” FROM SOMEONE WHO CLEARLY WASN’T EXPECTING AN ATTACK HUG]

PAST MARTIN

Sorry, I’m so sorry, I—

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, Martin, it’s not your fault, it’s—it’s not your fault.

It’s not your fault.

TIM

That statement…your dad’s statement. Do—do you think it’s…in here somewhere?

PAST ARCHIVIST

I don’t—I don’t know.

Basira, she, she said she got as many as she could. There might be some that—I don’t know, Tim.

PAST MARTIN

(uncertainly) W-we could—we could look?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Yes. Yes, if—if you could do that, that would…

I’m sorry. I-I need to—I’ll be right back.

TIM

Jon. Be careful, okay?

PAST ARCHIVIST

I’m just going outside. I’ll be fine.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[MUFFLED SOUNDS OF THE STREET]

PAST ARCHIVIST

(muttering to himself) …won’t be sensible…I know he worries, they both do. Last thing I need to do is make that worse, but God, after that—

BREEKON

‘Scuse us.

HOPE

Jonathan Sims?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Yeah, wh—? Oh, sh—

[THE PAST ARCHIVIST WHEEZES AND COUGHS AS THE WIND IS KNOCKED OUT OF HIM]

BREEKON

Miss Orsinov wants to see you.

HOPE

Says she changed her mind.

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, please, I—

[VAN DOOR SLIDES OPEN, A LOUD THUNK AS THE PAST ARCHIVIST IS SHOVED INSIDE]

[DOORS CLOSE AND ENGINE STARTS]

PAST ARCHIVIST

Oh, God.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[HIGH HEELS CLICKING ACROSS A HARDWOOD FLOOR]

ELIAS/JONAH

Ah—Sasha.

[FOOTSTEPS STOP]

SASHA

Yes?

ELIAS/JONAH

Coming back from lunch?

SASHA

…Yes?

ELIAS/JONAH

I’m a bit busy today, so I don’t really have time to get down to the Archives. Please let Tim and Martin know that Jon will be out for a few days.

SASHA

…Sure.

Is…everything all right?

ELIAS/JONAH

Perfectly.

I just have something I need for him to do. It might take some time. I’m sure he’ll explain everything when he gets back, but meanwhile, do make sure your colleagues stay on task, will you? No doubt you have a lot to work on.

SASHA

Yeah, of course. We’ll keep things running smoothly while he’s gone.

ELIAS/JONAH

Thank you, Sasha. I knew I could count on you.

(under his breath) Reliable old Sasha.

SASHA

…Thank you.

[FOOTSTEPS RESUME, CHANGE TO A SLIGHTLY MORE HOLLOW SOUND AS IF SOMEONE IS WALKING DOWN STEPS, SLOW TO A STOP]

[SOUND OF NUMBERS BEING DIALED ON A PHONE]

[THREE TONES]

AUTOMATED INTERCEPT MESSAGE

The number you have reached is not currently in service. Please hang up and try again.

SASHA

Shit.

[CLICK]

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #the formatting's better on AO3 #isolation tw #gaslighting tw #loneliness tw #kidnapping tw

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anotherescsite · 3 years ago

Text

The Eurovision Song Contest we had to have

The journey from Tel Aviv to Rotterdam was an unexpectedly long one. Who knew that when Duncan Lawrence raised the trophy in May 2019 that another Eurovision Song Contest Grand Final would not take place for another 736 days? Having to wait such a long time between two Eurovision (excluding 2 x Junior contests) was excruciating, soul destroying and plainly depressing. And just like that, Eurovision 2021 has come and has now gone.

As the title says, it is The Eurovision Song Contest we had to have. It is a bold statement and I considered it for a day before putting it there. In reflection the song contest in Rotterdam was a wonderful event for many reasons which I’d like to discuss a bit. So this may take a while, but bear with me and hopefully, I’ll make it worth your while.

THE HOSTS

Four hosts was two too many, but let’s talk about them. Chantal is beautiful and the most professional of the foursome. Jan was the token male and while his performance was contained to a very small potion, it was nevertheless, fine. Edsilia was much more chilled than I expected and provided a warm presence amongst these people. Nikkie was probably the most down to earth of them all, possibly the most personable, but also somehow cold.

In actually effect, while there were four of them, they worked. No one took a lite load but they each had an equal presence in the show. As many other people have mentioned, everyone would have preferred more Edsilia and Nikkie to Jan and Chantal, but I’m not terribly fussed. They were all well practiced and very on point for the event and as a viewer I was pleased by this.

THE STAGE

Like most Eurovision stages, they do not look like anything unless you turn on the lights. That was definitely the case for this one. The lights were on, the stage sparkled, and the stage was alive in every way that it was asked. The screens provided everything that were needed for each of the songs and other performances. The transparent screen in the middle of the venue added so much to some of the performances and was the masterstroke that made some of them visually exciting.

There was one thing about the stage that felt like they were reminiscing stages of the Dutch past. I felt a hint of the Amsterdam 1970 stage on the sides. I don’t think it was a co-incidence, but I liked the fact that the paid homage like that. Everything else was state of the art.

POSTCARDS

The postcard films were well put together to present a place in the Netherlands, a tiny house structure with items that belong or relate to the act coming up and then a green screen appearance of the act in the tiny house.

While the postcard as a whole were well put together and cleverly created, I felt I missed out on seeing more of the Netherlands because they were focused more on what was coming and less with the airport, the canal, the lighthouse, the field, the tulips and whatever else was presented. So it’s only a small thing in a small film, but I wanted more of a Netherlands tourism experience in the films.

THE INTERVAL ACTS

It’s a funny thing about this year’s interval acts, and to be completely honest, I happy about it. If you asked a fan about Eurovision 2014, people will say that they remember ‘Love love peace peace’ and Justin Timberlake. In 1994, people remember ‘Riverdance’. In Tel Aviv, there was Madonna. I like that the intervals this year did not overshadow the entrants to the song contest. They were a time filler, a light refreshment and then it was over. For the most part well performed, entertaining and gone before you know it

I recall there was something about water in the first semi final, there was a dancer and a bike in the second, the former winners sang on Rotterdam buildings and some unifying song and dance. Nikkie did some little films about losing, and behaviour in the green room during voting. All were quality performances that were well constructed, organised and presented. They held the viewers attention while we waited for the votes to commence/announcement of the qualifiers and because they were each engaging, they seemed to go quickly.

THE OUTCOME

In most cases, things went as expected in the semi finals. Fans were disappointed with Croatia not qualifying, but I don’t think the betting had them qualifying. Romania was expected to qualify, but Roxen could not sing the song and move at the same time. Ireland suffered the same fate with an impressive staging. Semi final 2 went as expected as well; maybe Austria was expected to get through in place of Albania; i disagree.

The results/placings in the final were a bit of a surprise to me, but there was one certainty for me and that was that Italy deserved their win. There is a very simple reason for it’s success too. It’s not that it was a loud song or that the song was outlandish, or the way they were dressed. The reason that Italy won was that the performance of the song was a natural performance. I’m sure there was choreography of movement, but they were not outside of what they usually do. There was no gimmick, no dance routine, no green screen to worry about, no spinning diamond or large gimmick hanging from the roof of the stadium. It is also why the French entry was such a success and for a lesser part Iceland and Ukraine. Finland and Portugal also presented an entry that was in essence what was expected for that type of song.

Switzerland was a vast success in my eyes. They rolled the dice and they came up on top with the juries. Switzerland have rolled out a prop in the past to highlight a song, but this year they added lighting and camera work to add to the tension of the entry and it worked. Gjon looked a bit clumsy at times, but it was excellent captivating three minutes.

There were some countries that were dependent on a large prop. Some were there to attract votes as they went with the song while others to distract from it. Russia and Cyprus had several well placed props that worked well and were relevant to the song. Greece had a large invisible prop that made what was a good song appear like a joke entry. Malta had a prop that didn’t make sense to the entry being performed. Bulgaria’s rock was both inspirational and strange to me. Moldova’s revolving diamond worked for her also, but it was just a surface to perform choreography on.

I want to spend a moment of praise on Serbia and Belgium that had very different performances, but appropriately performed. Serbia took their sexy manic, hair choreographed selves all over the stage gyrating and moving like they had drunk 15 cups of coffee. Belgium, on the other hand, was very intense and sedate in their presentation mainly because most of them were playing instruments that were unmovable.

Of the countries that retained their choreography from a national final, other than Iceland, was Lithuania. They had varied it only very little from the national final and in their case, the performance was crazy perfection to match the theme of the song. I was disappointed with Norway, Azerbaijan and Sweden for retaining almost identical choreography to their songs from the film clip/national final, but I wasn’t a big fan of either song in the final. They seemed tired in appearance and in formatting. Azerbaijan needs a further slap for submitting their 2020 song with a new name.

I feel some disappointment for a few of the entrants. I’m going to start with the United Kingdom. Poor James Newman. He had a thumping good song that fans liked. There was enthusiasm from the fans that the UK would do better this year and they did worse. What I find astounding is he does not appear to be a shy person, yet he allowed someone in the United Kingdom delegation to produce that choreography, that outfit and those props for that song. To my ear, James sounded sad and dejected in the final and I was unbelievably disappointed that they didn’t score something from somewhere.

I’m disappointed for San Marino too. Senhit has showed she is a class act and has spent the last year enthusiastically covering Eurovision songs. But at the song contest, she appeared to be a forgotten entrant. Even with the addition of Flo Rida did not give the song some cred. I have a recurring image of Senhit’s shoulders slump and physically shrink on hearing that her efforts accounted for 50 points.

I’m also disappointed for the Netherlands. They most likely did not want to host again and it is a sad curse that countries that host usually end near the bottom of the scoreboard (excluding Super Sweden). But to score so terribly for what was a gloriously performed entry was unconscionable. I praise the Netherlands for choosing such a wonderful cultural performance for the stage.

At the bottom end, Spain and Germany had very different entries, performed with contrasting enthusiasm and it got them both a very low level of support. Spain had the most tired song that was boring as all hell and the presentation of the entry gave the audience nothing in return but a large grey beach ball in the sky. Back to the drawing board? Germany was destined to fail in March. The charisma and fun of their film was completely missing from the staging and it was never going to go well.

Albania had the misfortune of being ignored, given a terribly bad draw for the second year straight and not given anywhere near the appropriate amount of votes required. Anxhela gave a good stylish and appropriate performance. She was on-point vocally and in her performance on stage.

Israel, on the other hand, was a spectacle. The song was kind of meh, performed with a lot of choreography to distract from it. She did a whistle note; so? I’m sure she had to get noticed somehow with her t-shirt dress, her nude illusion reveal and the headdress she stole from reigning RuPaul Drag race winner, Symone. (Did she not no know where she was coming and who would be watching? Picked that up immediately)

IN CONCLUSION

There is one other things that I have not mentioned so far and it only occurred to me after re-reading some of the above comments. The Dutch were very time conscious. They said they were keeping the final under four hours and they pulled it in and got it done. In my opinion, it was a Eurovision that was very breezy, and very light experience because while the experience of Eurovision was 8 hours of your week watching the shows, this year did not seem like an ordeal. I felt that the shows progressed quickly without fuss or propaganda. As a package it came together well across the board.

It was a good Eurovision year and had something to cater for the taste of everyone. Some songs were not suited to everyone, but that happens. Below is how I saw this years song’s after the three shows and believe me I have changed it a few times before settling on this list. Looking at it, I want to move them around again.

So that’s it. Next year it will be somewhere in Italy; maybe Turin, maybe Rome, Milan or Bologna. It won’t matter. Feel free to comment, complain, debate. I’m happy to back myself and for you to convince me otherwise. I haven’t got anything else to do. : )

#esc #eurovision #2021 #Rotterdam #The Netherlands #The Eurovision Song Contest we had to have

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theradioghost · 5 years ago

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I don't know if you're still doing podcast recs, but if you are, I really like dramas, horror, sci-fi, honestly anything that gives you the feels (especially if it has lgbtq+ rep). I am not much of a comedy person though unfortunately. The only podcast I finished was tma and I really loved it.

The recommendations are always on tap here, whenever my askbox is open! You might wanna check out:

Archive 81, for a found-footage horror about mysterious archives of tapes full of encounters with otherworldly horror, dark rituals, cults, and a long-suffering archivist with the same name as the show creator who plays him, which despite all that could not possibly be more different from TMA and yet easily matches it as one of the best horror stories I have ever enjoyed. The sound design on this show is basically unparalleled – where TMA has fairly minimalist sound design, A81 goes all out. Quite a few lgbtqa+ folk also.

I Am In Eskew, for a surreal, Lynchian horror about the city of Eskew, where it’s always raining and the streets are never the same twice, as narrated by a man who is trapped there and the woman hired to find him. Take the most viscerally disturbing episodes of TMA as a baseline for how intense this show is, then imagine the Spiral built a city and invited all the other fears over for a party. Also right up there as one of my favorite horror things ever, and recently ended, so you can listen to the whole thing right now.

Within The Wires, for a found-footage scifi dystopia, telling stories from an alternate-history world. Three of the four seasons focus on lgbtqa+ leads, and the first season, a set of instructional meditation tapes provided to a prisoner in a shadowy government institution, is still some of my absolute favorite creative use of medium and framing device ever.

Kane and Feels, for a surreal noir-flavored urban fantasy/horror hybrid, about a magically-inclined academic (and sarcastic little bastard man) named Lucifer Kane and his demon-punching partner with a heart of gold, Brutus Feels. They share a flat in London, they bicker like an old married couple, and they fight supernatural evil. This show WILL confuse the hell out of you and you will enjoy every second of it.

Alice Isn’t Dead, for a weird Americana horror story about a long-distance truck driver, criss-crossing the US in search of her missing wife. Along the way she discovers that both of them have been drawn into a dangerous secret war that seethes in the empty and abandoned expanses of America, and that inhuman hunters have begun to follow her. Also finished! And as the title kind of gives away, the lesbians do not die!

Janus Descending, for a sci-fi horror miniseries about two scientists sent to survey the remains of a dead alien civilization on a distant planet, only to learn all too well why the original inhabitants have disappeared. You hear one character’s story in chronological order and the other in reverse, with their perspectives alternating, which is done in an incredibly clever way so that even technically knowing what will happen it still holds you in suspense right to the end. Also, it made me cry, a lot.

SAYER, for a sci-fi horror with a touch of dark comedy, and probably the single best use of the “evil AI” trope I have ever seen. Tells the story of employees of tech corporation Aerolith Dynamics living on Earth’s artificial second moon, Typhon, in the form of messages from their AI overseer SAYER. The first season is great, the second season is okay, and the third and fourth seasons are fucking amazing.

Tides, for a really interesting sci-fi about a lone biologist trapped on an alien world shaped by deadly tidal forces. It’s different from just about any other sci-fi I know, focusing more on the main character’s interactions with and observations of this strange new world, where she’s very aware that she is the alien invader. (Also I don’t think any of the characters are straight.)

Station to Station, for a thrilling sci-fi mystery where a group of scientists and spies on a research ship (the ocean kind) discover that the time-warping anomaly they’re studying might be causing people to vanish from existence. Corporate espionage and high-stakes heartbreak abound. (And once again I’m not sure anyone is straight.)

The Strange Case of Starship Iris, for Being Gay And Doing Crime IN SPACE! Or, decades after a war with an alien species leaves humanity decimated and under the control of totalitarian leaders, the lone survivor of a research mission joins up with a ragtag crew of rebels and smugglers to figure out why the very government she worked for tried to kill her, and to stop them from inciting a second war. 100% lgbtqa+ found family in space heist action and it’s glorious in every way.

Unwell, for the horror-ish Midwestern gothic story of a young woman who returns to her hometown to help her estranged mother after an injury, and discovers that there is something just a little bit wrong, not just with her mother, but with her mother’s house, and with the whole town. Subtle and creepy. The protagonist is a biracial lesbian, one of the other major characters is nonbinary, the cast in general is super diverse.

The Blood Crow Stories, for an lgbtqa+ focused horror anthology! The four seasons so far have been the stories of an ancient evil stalking the passengers of a WWI-era utopian cruise ship, a dark Western mystery about a group of allies trying to stop the mysterious killer known only as the Savior, a 911 operator in a cyberpunk dystopia who starts getting terrifying phone calls from demons, and strange and deadly goings-on at a film studio in the golden age of Hollywood. Everyone is Very Gay and anyone can die, especially in season 1.

The Tower, for a melancholy experimental miniseries about a young woman who decides she’s going to climb the mysterious Tower, from which no one has ever returned. Quite short and very, very good.

Palimpsest, for a creepy, heartbreakingly sad and yet incredibly beautiful anthology series. Season one is the story of a woman who suspects her new home is haunted, season two is a turn-of-the-century urban fantasy about a girl who falls in love with the imprisoned fae princess she’s been hired to care for, and season three is about a WWII codebreaker who begins seeing ghosts on the streets of London during the Blitz.

Mabel, for a part-horror, part-love story, the kind of faerie tale where you feel obliged to spell it with an E because these are the kind of faeries that are utterly inhuman, and beautiful, and dangerous. Anna, the new caretaker for an elderly woman, leaves messages for her client’s mysteriously absent granddaughter Mabel. An old house in Ireland has a life and desires of its own, few of them friendly. Two women fall in love and set out for vengeance against the King Under The Hill. Creepy, strange, and gorgeously poetic.

Ars Paradoxica, for a sci-fi time travel Cold War espionage thriller. Physicist Dr. Sally Grissom accidentally invents time travel, landing herself – and her invention – in the middle of a classified government experiment during WWII. As the course of history utterly changes around them, she and what friends she can find in this new time must struggle with the ethics of what they’ve done, and the choices they’ll have to make. An aroace protagonist, Black secret agents, time-traveling Latina assassins, Jewish lesbian mathematicians, two men of color whose love changes the course of time itself, this show says a big fuck you to the idea that there’s anything hard about having a diverse cast in a period piece and it will break your heart, multiple times. Also finished!

The Far Meridian, for a genre-bending, poetic, at-times-heartwarming-at-times-heartbreaking story about an agoraphobic woman named Peri who decides to begin a search for her long-missing brother Ace after the lighthouse in which she lives begins mysteriously transporting to different places every day. I can never forget an early review that described this show as “the audio equivalent of a Van Gogh painting.” Suffice to say it is beautiful, and fantastically written and put together.

What’s the Frequency?, for a Surrealist noir horror mystery set in mid-20th-century LA. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I can really explain what goes on in this show, but it features a detective named Walter “Troubles” Mix and his partner Whitney searching for a missing writer. Meanwhile, the only thing that seems to be playing on the radio is that writer’s show Love, Honor, and Decay, which also seems to be driving people to murder. Fantastically weird, deliciously creepy.

Directive, for a short sci-fi miniseries about a man hired to spend a very, very long trip through space alone, which doesn’t seem all that sad until suddenly it hits you with Every Feel You’ve Ever Had, seriously I don’t want to spoil it so I won’t say anything more but listen to this and then never feel the same way about Tuesdays again.

Wolf 359, for honestly one of the best podcasts out there, containing all of the drama and feels, seriously this show ended over two years ago and I still cry literal tears thinking about it sometimes. It has definite comedic leanings, especially in the first season which reads a bit more like a wacky office comedy set in space, but it takes a sharp turn towards high stakes, action, and feelings and that roller coaster never stops. Take four clashing personalities alone on a constantly-malfunctioning space station eight light years from earth, add some mysterious transmissions from the depths of space, toss in some seriously Jonah-Magnus-level manipulative evil bosses, and get ready to cry.

or, may I suggest Midnight Radio? It’s a lesbian-romance-slash-ghost-story completed miniseries about a late-night 1950s radio host in a small town who begins receiving mysterious letters from one of her listeners, and I have been assured by many people and occasionally their all-caps tweets that it provides ample Feelings! (also I wrote it.)

#holy fuck when did this answer get that long?#anyway I uh. hope at least one of these sounds good to you!#podcast recs #bobbie recommends things #Anonymous #asks #my posts

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barrybluejeansandbestjeanist · 4 years ago

Text

Notes on the Artemis Fowl movie by yours truly.

Bear in mind I wrote these while watching the movie. There’s a lot of them.

1. If you think the police and/or reporters would ever be anywhere near fowl manor you’re wrong.

2. Mulch isn’t bad so far but he’d never be caught by police.

3. Is our first introduction to Artemis him running? I think not thank you very much.

4. Plus it looks like he’s going to do some water sport. Also wrong.

5. Surfing!!??!!?

6. Artemis doesn’t have even close to the coordination to do that.

7. I don’t even think he knows how to swim.

8. He doesn’t love Ireland.

9. Of course he doesn’t love school! Have you seen his teachers’ remarks on him? They aren’t nice.

10. It was a boys-only school but that’s definitely one of the smaller offenses.

11. He did do the chess thing if I recall correctly.

12. Same for the opera house.

13. He didn’t clone a goat or name anything Bruce.

14. Unusual is an understatement.

15. Dr. Po?!

16. Fake chair! Yeah!

17. That exchange from the Arctic incident wasn’t a bad choice to include. Too early though I think. We’ll see how the rest of the movie goes.

18. He’s got blue eyes. At least there’s that.

19. He doesn’t have a biography!

20. His mom isn’t dead! Disney is just scared of showing mental illness.

21. If you think Angelina Fowl can’t control Artemis you’re wrong. She calls him Arty for god’s sake. He loves his mom.

22. Mysterious absences my ass. He’s the one that should be presumed dead.

23. “This is a sensitive area doctor” sure.

24. Fake chair ftw.

25. The burden of his father’s name?! He’s proud of that name.

26. This scene wasn’t so bad. We’ll see how the rest of the movie fairs.

27. Who does he think he is? He Artemis freaking Fowl!

28. Skateboarding! I’m about to have an aneurysm.

29. Also, why is he wearing jeans? Get this man a suit!

30. He did not like being at home with his dad. Not in the first book anyway. His parent being out of the way allowed him to do what he did.

31. His dad’s actor looks good for the part.

32. His father is a criminal. World-famous. He did not just deal with antiques and rarities.

33. His dad also didn’t care for fairytales.

34. Music’s nice I guess.

35. Why is arty wearing a hoodie?! He would never!

36. Artemis was not taught about fairies. He discovered them himself with basically no help.

37. So much physical contact between Artemis sr. and jr. No.

38. His dad did not believe in any such legends.

39. They shared only a passion for crime and that didn’t even last.

40. He wasn’t determined about any such thing. See point 36.

41. He wasn’t preparing Artemis for anything like that.

42. Fairy stones? What are those?

43. There was no peace made between humans and fairies.

44. Tuatha De Danaan? What is that?

45. Artemis would want to get to the point I guess.

46. His work was not coming to an end. What is going on? Can we meet Holly soon?

47. I’m ten minutes in and suffering.

48. Artemis wasn’t really one to smile unless things were going his way.

49. You are a child! You are still a kid! You’re like a literal baby still!

50. The whole point of him being 12 in the books was that he could still believe in magic as well as science. Wtf is going on?

51. I do know the Hill of Tara.

52. I take issue with “all I really want is to believe in you” but I don’t have time to get into it here.

53. He’s still wearing a hoodie. >:(

54. Hugging his dad. No.

55. I will accept the helicopter on the front lawn if only because it seems one thing that could’ve happened in the books.

56. Where are the Butlers? Why are neither of the fowls being guarded? I need more Juliet and Butler in this movie NOW.

57. And Holly.

58. Pretty sure they don’t have a lighthouse. Also, pretty sure fowl manor wasn’t next to the ocean.

59. Might’ve been near a Forrest. I don’t quite remember.

60. Legos?! LEGOS?!??!!

61. Also, star wars? I don’t think Artemis has ever seen a sci-fi movie. He’s too busy making them a reality.

62. Artemis would also not sleep with a book.

63. Why did Butler’s name in the subtitles appear as Domovoi? You know there’s a whole thing about his name and why Arty doesn’t know it right?

64. So his dad disappeared. Not bad. A little late but okay.

65. Everyone has already aired their grievances about Butlers actor so I shall refrain from doing so as well. I’ll just say one word and leave it at that. Eurasian.

66. Also, fowl manor doesn’t look bad. I can accept this house.

67. No no no. No one should be calling him Domovoi. Only Butler.

68. Also, that isn’t the training he had.

69. He is the butler though? I mean. Only sort of but like. ???

70. No. You could not call him Dom or Domovoi.

71. Very large man in a suit is slightly acceptable.

72. He could totally snap you in half but not without good reason. Come on, guys. He’s a nice guy. Scary, but nice.

73. Like, the dude cooks and gardens and whatnot. How is that not nice?

74. Also, I’m still hung up on the goat thing. Like I don’t deny that he could clone a goat but why on earth would he name it Bruce. Is it a Batman reference or something? I don’t understand this movie.

75. World wide manhunt? Pardon my doubt.

76. Superyacht? Owl star?

77. I get it. It’s a stupid pun.

78. I guess the South China Sea is close enough to Russia.

79. Again. Not an antiquities dealer.

80. Robberies? He ran a criminal empire!

81. Not sure how one would go about stealing the Rosetta Stone or why but sure.

82. I’ve never even heard of Boru’s Harp.

83. Nor the book of kells.

84. Why are you calling Butler Dom???

85. Yes! He is a criminal mastermind! Thank you for slightly acknowledging that!

86. Also, Artemis is not that rash.

87. He’s your dad and a criminal.

88. Why must Disney do this to my boy? He was an incredible character, smart, cunning, and a criminal and now he’s just a sort of smart kid. Lame.

89. I swear if this “raspy voice” is opal I will be so disappointed.

90. What is this? Artemis is supposed to be kidnapping fairies, not the other way around!

91. What is this Aculos and why should I care about it?

92. Also, why isn’t it Christmas? You could at least set it in winter. For crying out loud.

93. That isn’t word for word Artemis. I know you can remember it exactly.

94. I’m starting to think Orion is better than this fool.

95. Why is he wearing a hoodie?!??!???!

96. Just going to have a secret basement full of whatever secret stuff shoved in there because of course.

97. Also. As if butler would know about any of this.

98. Bunch of bottles of water. Okay.

99. ‘Cause Artemis Sr. totally knew about the fairies.

100. This is a stupid basement.

101. I’m so done with this.

102. Ah yes! An important journal! Predictable.

103. Stupid poem. Stupid way of finding the journal.

104. That was opal I see. I’m dying.

105. Beechwood. Isn’t that guy related to Holly or something? Also, not from the books.

106. Yes, Arty fairies exist. Surprising no one.

107. I like how they made the city look I suppose. And they kept the name the same. Of course, it must be noted that not all fairies live in haven. There are other cities.

108. Why is holly a baby? She shouldn’t look like a child. Also, tons of people have already spoken on holly’s appearance as well so I won’t say anymore.

109. Koboi mentioned. It was totally opal.

110. The fairies don’t look bad either. Though I don’t know if the little things are supposed to be goblins or what?

111. I guess not. These goblins also seem way too smart.

112. “You and I would make a great team” foreshadowing.

113. I do think mulch being taller is kinda funny.

114. Briar Cudgeon looks about how I expected. Do you think he’ll get his face melted?

115. Opal and Cudgeon working together. Unsurprising if a bit early.

116. You spy or you die. The CIA’s motto.

117. L.E.P. Recon. Nice.

118. I’m also not going to address the changing of roots gender and the fact that Holly is supposed to be the first female officer because again, many people have spoken at length about that. Still upset though.

119. Kelp and Verbil are around I see.

120. What is the Aculos? Like I get that it’s a weapon by why should I care?

121. Also, I think Root should be smoking.

122. Holly’s father? Why should he matter or even be a part of this?

123. They kept Holly 84. Good.

124. Reinforcements? Juliet?!!!!

125. She’s 12? She’s supposed to be sixteen! No!

126. Niece!!!! She’s supposed to be his sister.

127. Also, screw Disney for changing the fairy alphabet so we can’t read it.

128. Artemis should be able to decode it though. He’s not much of a genius, is he?

129. Foals needs a tinfoil hat and should look way way nerdier.

130. Troll! Time! Yeah!

131. Yeah! Lava chutes!

132. Foaly’s CGI is a little wonky but whatever.

133. So that’s why Holly’s father is important. Stupid.

134. The executors. You mean the council.

135. Don’t just fly over the surface unshielded, you dolt!

136. Butler your camouflage sucks ass.

137. Butler wouldn’t complain.

138. Butler’s eyes are freaking me out. No one’s eyes look like that.

139. The LEP helmets are stupid looking.

140. That isn’t what a troll looks like. Stop it, Disney.

141. Time Stop. Not a time freeze.

142. The magic looks cool.

143. That’s not how a time stop works. But at least it looks cool.

144. I suppose I can accept that’s how they do mind wipes.

145. “This is a strange wedding” is the best joke so far.

146. Why are none of the fairies shielded?

147. Holly has such boring motivation.

148. You shouldn’t just read your dad’s journal Arty. It’s rude.

149. I’m so over arty’s dad already knowing about the fairies as well as this beechwood fellow.

150. Why does this Aculos exist? If it’s so dangerous, why not get rid of it?

151. Opal Koboi. Finally.

152. Like Arty would ever dress like that. He’d still be wearing a suit and be spotless.

153. “They’re real.” No kidding!

154. Fox!

155. I’m surprised they included trying and succeeding to shoot holly.

156. Kinda wish they’d kept the bury an acorn to get magic thing but small fish and all.

157. Now it’s starting to remind me of the real Artemis Fowl story.

158. Cudgeon is slimy and annoying and I’m here for it.

159. That’s a shitty looking cage.

160. “Not happy” I wonder why?

161. Reflective glasses! Yes! Give me the fowl crew in cringey reflective sunglasses.

162. The Mesmer is done nicely. Love Juliet’s glasses.

163. A flannel and reflective sunglasses. That classic Artemis fowl look.

164. So he did decode their language.

165. The acting isn’t terrible.

166. Most humans are afraid of gluten how do you think they’d handle goblins is a good line.

167. Again. Not how time stops work but okay.

168. So let me get this right. Instead of the fairy bible which Artemis poisoned a fairy to get they just replaced it with his dad‘s journal. great.

169. Don’t give Artemis a weapon! He’s gonna cut his own arm off!

170. The time freeze does look cool though.

171. I can appreciate them gathering on the beach. That’s kinda cool.

172. Finally a suit! Get this kid properly clothed!

173. Though that tie is a little sus. Why’s it so skinny?

174. That fight scene wasn’t too bad. Again Arty is definitely not supposed to be good at anything physical but it’s whatever.

175. Flair for the dramatic? This is hardly as dramatic as the book.

176. I hate opal’s voice.

177. Waged war on your people? That was 10,000 years ago!

178. Opal’s motives are also super boring.

179. I’m sad we don’t get to see arty practicing his evil smile in the mirror.

180. In one of those pots. From under the rainbow. Fun.

181. Glad they kept the whole while I’m alive stipulation.

182. Glad to see the goblins still have fire powers.

183. These goblins really shouldn’t be so smart.

184. I hope we get to see mulch unhinge his jaw soon.

185. I do like mulch.

186. This heart to heart is stupid. Artemis wouldn’t trust holly just like that me thinks.

187. I like that mulch is up on all the human pop culture. I do wish he’d make a Gordon Ramsey reference though since he likes him.

188. Mulch not wanting to be tall is excellent character motivation though.

189. Now this is the heart to heart I needed.

190. Is he gonna unhinge his jaw?! I’ve been waiting for this the whole time!

191. Yeah!!!!!!

192. Eat that dirt!

193. Mulch!

194. “What would your parents be?”

195. A really really big dwarf.

196. Sick safe. Nothing mulch can’t handle.

197. That definitely isn’t what I expected from mulch’s hair but that’s okay.

198. Yeah! Holly punched Artemis! Now there just needs to be a lollipop remark.

199. Is that the Aculos? It looks stupid.

200. Also, I do appreciate the inclusion of the iris cam.

201. Opal, you’re so boring.

202. Cudgeon is taking over. Kinda wish it was of his own will because that’s more interesting but whatever.

203. Troll time part two. I doubt butler is going to almost die fighting it. Maybe he’ll wear a suit of armor though. That’d be cool.

204. How is it we’re an hour in and only just now get a d’arvit? Surely many other scenes warranted that.

205. I do like that mulch pickpocketed butler.

206. Don’t just stand in front of the door when A Troll is about to be sent in!

207. The wings do look really cool though.

208. Also, Juliet really shouldn’t be trying to fight a troll.

209. I mean. None of them should but you know.

210. Mulch eating the Aculos is very in character. I’m glad Artemis’s bedroom is being destroyed. It was terrible.

211. While I don’t care for the way the troll looks (Far too human, not enough claws and venom) the amount of destruction it’s causing is appropriate I feel.

212. I guess that’s how the fight can go.

213. Also, Juliet is so smart and strong yet she can’t pull herself over a ledge? Pathetic.

214. Don’t move butler to a completely different room! He’s got a back injury! You probably just made it worse!

215. Butler isn’t going to die. This is stupid.

216. Trouble doing the lords work.

217. I told you butler would be fine.

218. One of the times Butler would nearly die. If we’re following the books then more should follow.

219. Also what is this room they’re in?

220. Butler would not be ashamed to cry.

221. I’m living for everyone’s reactions to where mulch stored the Aculos.

222. I like the way it looks when they get grabbed by the time stop.

223. She’s gonna save Artemis. Obviously.

224. I like the way it looked when the time stop broke.

225. “Breaking every rule in the book” we haven’t even seen your book! Just his dad’s stupid journal.

226. He and holly should not be friends yet. He kidnapped her!

227. Ooh, forever friends how sweet! Get fucked. Both of you.

228. Now are we in Russia?

229. Opal annoys me so much.

230. So are you trying to tell me that this Aculos is the movie’s version of the book? Holly’s saying that poem.

231. This isn’t how magic is supposed to work.

232. >:(

233. I will admit it looked cool. Begrudgingly.

234. Your dad isn’t dead.

235. He’s in the secret basement that still exists for some reason.

236. Also, I didn’t note this before, but I doubt Arty ever called his dad, dad.

237. Opal is thwarted.

238. Why she so ugly looking? Pretty sure she was supposed to be pretty.

239. This is so stupid.

240. Opals accomplices, you mean those two dunderheads she had helping her?

241. How are there still fifteen minutes of this torture left?!

242. Again. Butler would not be ashamed to cry.

243. Just wait until Artemis gets magic of his own.

244. I’m so tired. It’s 12:14 at night and I just want this torture to end. Please god just let the credits roll already!

245. And now they’re famous. Whoop de do. Just tell us how mulch gets captured and escapes and end the movie. That’s all I ask.

246. You know he hasn’t been referred to as Artemis Fowl the Second throughout this whole disaster. What a slight to him.

247. Ray bans.

248. Oh yeah. Brag to opal. Great idea.

249. Criminal mastermind. Juvenile Genius. Same difference.

250. Why is his tie so skinny?

251. Is he gonna fly the helicopter?! Finally something in character!

252. Now just let mulch escape and finish this godforsaken nightmare!

253. Fowls? Protecting us? Pardon me while I laugh.

254. They do the unhinging of mulch’s jaw nicely.

255. And now they mission impossible him out of there. Perfect.

256. I’m dying. Let it be over. Please.

257. No more!

258. Fly off into the sunset. Of course.

259. Thank god! Credits! I’m free!

260. And another thing! They didn’t have the follow-up scene with Dr. Po! That would’ve been a way better ending! And you can’t just have one scene without the other!

#artemis fowl #artemis fowl movie #artemis fowl the second #artemis fowl the movie #hate

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writingquestionsanswered · 5 years ago

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Tips for creating a fictional town within a real county? Also, what tips do you have for naming fictional places/shops/items/etc.? I know there are place naming generators, but I’ve yet to find one that doesn’t come up with mostly odd, cheesy or otherwise unusable options :-/ Thank you for all you do!

Tips for Creating a Fictional Town in a Real Location

1. Research the Real Location

Start by researching the real location, in your case, whatever real county you’re using as the location for your fictional town. For example, type in the county and its larger region (province, state, country, etc.) into Google, like “Lincoln County, North Carolina” or “County Kerry, Ireland.” This will bring up all sorts of information you can learn about the county itself. You’ll want to know things like where in the country it’s located, geographical features, climate, who lives there, etc.

2. Research Real Towns in the Location

Next, find the location (again, the county in your case) on Google Maps or an equivalent. Decide approximately where in the county your town would be located. Now, start writing down the names of real towns. Do you notice any patterns? Are there a lot of –burgs or –villes? Are there a lot of unusual-looking words that probably belong to the predominate indigenous language of the area? Maybe a lot of the towns have geographical features in them? This can be a clue when choosing a name for your fictional town. My post Guide: Naming Locations (Like Towns and Cities) offers further help.

3. Do a Little World Building

Now that you’ve named your town and you know where it located in the real county, you can start planning what it’s like. Use elements of the real towns to help you figure out what the landscape of your town looks like, any important geographical features that would be there, like if it’s on the shore of a real lake or if a real river passes through it. Draw out a general map, figure out where the town center would be and decide what would be there (based on what’s normal for the surrounding towns.) (And, you don’t have to get this in-depth if these places aren’t important in your story, but it can help to have a good image of the town in your head while writing.) You might even consider making an inspiration board of images that represent your fictional town.

Naming Fictional Businesses (Products, Locations, etc.)

The best thing you can do is look for real world examples and use those for inspiration. For example, let’s say you’re trying to name a flower shop. Go to Google and type in “flower shop” and your town (or a town near your fictional town) and see what comes up. I looked for examples in Chicago and here are some that came up:

Ode à la RoseKelly’s Flower ShopSteve’s Flower MarketChicago Flower CompanyFleur de Lis FloristLupita’s Flower ShopHyde Park FloristJazzy FlowersFlora ChicagoSo, what have we learned from these real world examples? Pull out the essential elements:

Rose (flower type)Flower/Fleur/Flora/Florist (Floral would probably be another option)Shop/Market/CompanyPlace namesFirst namesSo, now you start using those elements along with elements related to your own story. For example, maybe your fictional town is in an area that was largely settled by Italian immigrants. So, maybe you would look for Italian shop and flower related words. Maybe there’s a lighthouse in your fictional town, so you could go with something like “Lighthouse Flower Market” or “Lighthouse Florist.” Or, maybe you want the flower shop to be owned by one of your characters, who’s named Stephanie. You could go with Stephanie’s Flower Shop or Steph’s Flowers. The same method will work whether you’re naming businesses, areas in the town (like a park or town square), products, community groups, anything. It’s up to you to do the work to figure out options. :)

Other links that might help with planning your fictional town:

Guide: Naming LocationsUsing an Existing Country as Inspiration (tips here will apply)Setting Your Story in an Unfamiliar Place (will help with research)Figuring Out Your World’s Geography

Good luck with your story!

————————————————————————————————-

Have a question? My inbox is always open, but make sure to check my FAQ and post master lists first to see if I’ve already answered a similar question. :)

#writing #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

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gaylortruther · 5 years ago

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really want to get back into writing so please help me choose a WIP or at MOST two WIPs to focus on!!!

WHERE THE CELLAR MEETS THE SKY

four book series, longest standing wip, needs a complete rework and i have no idea where to start

new adult dystopian/fantasy dystopian centered on LGBT characters

its about gays, redemption and (found) family

WEBS AND WHITE ROSES

standalone horror historical fantasy novel , new adult

inspired by alice in wonderland/the winchester mystery house

its about chaos and loss of sanity and lots of dead people

ILLUNIUS

standalone fantasy novel with hints of DA, new adult

its about angels and demons (obviously theyre gay and in love.)

its probably my most intricate wip but also prob needs a rework :/

BOUNDLESS AS THE SEA

duology maybe??? new adult fantasy

inspired by romeo and juliet and the little mermaid

its about a bi merman and a trans prince and theyre. gay

GRAVEWALKERS

standalone probably, new adult supernatural horror

its about a trans boy who sees ghosts running away to ireland with a girl he barely knows

they awaken a Lighthouse Ghost. because of course they do. there is possession involved. in the demonic form

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL GRIMM GANG

idk, new adult low fantasy?

fae.

in wales or something and theyre all changelings and they have a girl gang IDK

(name) AND (name)’S GUIDE TO WITCHERY AND YOUR RESIDENT CRYPTIDS

new adult low fantasy i GUESS

i dont even have ch names for this one yet but basically this group of college kids goes cryptid hunting and some of them are witches and some of them are not they just want to fuckigngngn. find bigfoot

there are gays.

TEARS TO SHED

new adult supernatural fantasy historical SOMETHING

wlw retelling of the corpse bride BECAUSE I CAN.

i literally dont know

thats it

you did it!! you made it through my WIPs minus the spin-offs!!! please help me decide which ones to focus on I LOVE YOU ALL

#longpost #updates

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chroniclesofamber · 5 years ago

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THE CHRONICLES OF AMBER & History Lessons

It should be obvious that writers, composers, painters and all artists respond to the time in which they live, and that this is reflected in their art. And it should also come as no surprise that some material is more strongly influenced by the historical moment than other art. All this is at least as true for Roger Zelazny and his idolized Chronicles of Amber — perhaps somewhat more so, given that these five books in no small way chart a complete decade.

NINE PRINCES IN AMBER (1970)

History: Pieces of the first book saw print as early as 1967. It appears Zelazny worked on the book here and there for three years or more until its publication in 1970. Still looming over the political landscape of the time was the assassination of John F. Kennedy years earlier, which had led to the Johnson “great society” era and from there to Nixon’s struggles with China, the Soviet Union and the Vietnam War. Just as influential was the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., as well as that of Robert Kennedy. The 1960s were dominated by these issues, the Cold War and threat of nuclear annihilation, the rise of the counter-culture and protest movements, the Beatles and Woodstock, and the first landing of men on the Moon.

As someone familiar with Jungian psychology and Frazer’s Golden Bough, Zelazny saw a way to harness the interregnum turmoil of the Sixties while incorporating the ritual of “the Killing of the King.” (Conspiriologists left and right — politically, and otherwise — have long adhered to the notion that it was not a coincidence that this particular killing of the king had been carried out in accordance with ancient ritual.) The King of Amber is missing or deceased. Factions have quickly aligned to jockey for the best position to take advantage of the power vacuum. That a conspiracy to remove both the king and Corwin is uncovered, a few books later, also mirrors the deaths of the Kennedys. Our hero, already in a state of confusion over his own identity and situation, is thrust into the midst of this power-struggle and — like Armstrong and Aldrin aboard the Eagle — soon finds himself visiting another world.

Lesson: Corwin charges in somewhat blindly, and is literally blinded (and imprisoned) as a result. When he miraculously regains both his sight and his freedom, he vows that patience and planning will guide him going forward and that, this time, he will prevail and take his rightful place in Amber. He also learns that what drives you, what you want, has a lot to say about who you are.

Journey: He starts out being held against his will in a hospital, recovering from broken legs and near-drowning from a car accident. By the end of the book, he is recuperating from years of blindness and imprisonment under much better circumstances in a remote lighthouse while cared for by an old friend. When he leaves the lighthouse, no one tries to thwart his departure (he is voluntarily assisted, in point of fact), he knows exactly who he is and what he wants, and has a clear idea of his objective and how to achieve it.

THE GUNS OF AVALON (1972)

History: Two years pass, eventful ones. No shortage of natural disasters — major cholera epidemics in Istanbul and Slovakia; avalanches in France and Peru; earthquakes in Tonghai, Gediz, Burdur, Bingöl, Peru and elsewhere destroy cities and kill thousands; Mount Etna erupts; Montreal is buried by the blizzard dubbed La Tempête du Siècle; the Odisha cyclone overtakes the Bay of Bengal and claims 10,000 lives; 50 tornadoes tear through Louisiana and Mississippi; floods put Bangladesh and eastern Bengal underwater; the Bhola cyclone wipes out half a million people. But the real disasters turn out to be man-made, so much so that this period could easily be described by the phrase “state of emergency.” The Apollo 13 mission fails, though the astronauts survive and the summer of 1971 sees a rover rolling across the surface of the Moon. Oil-price instability and Nixon taking the dollar off the gold standard together signal economic and energy crises yet-to-come, but the real instability is social, political and military. Coups and assassinations become commonplace as former colonial possessions are granted independence.

Keyword: Napalm. Bombs, terrorism, murder and violence, state-sanctioned and otherwise, plague the United Kingdom due to resistance to British rule in Northern Ireland. American incursions into Laos and Cambodia fuel growing anti-war sentiment. The publication of the Pentagon Papers and the COINTELPRO documents stolen from FBI offices in Pennsylvania, news images of the Kent State shootings, and revelations of the My Lai Massacre throw gasoline onto the fire: 150,000 protest the Vietnam War in San Francisco on the same day that half a million march on Washington, D.C. 60% of Americans oppose American troops in Southeast Asia. Meanwhile, the ashes of Hitler, Eva Braun, and the Goebbels family are scattered in East Germany’s Biederitz River. Echoing all this, Zelazny pulls from the Grail quest an idea which unites the chaos reflected in the natural and human worlds in a single image — the Wasteland — and gives it the form of the Black Road, which Corwin discovers runs all the way to the outskirts of his beloved Amber.

Lesson: Corwin struggles with his commitment to his system of values as demonic beings and foreign-imposed dictatorship threaten the shadow world Lorraine and Amber herself. With some reluctance, he risks his own neck for a place lost to him long ago, and abandons his scheme to turn his troops and guns against Amber when the kingdom seems on the brink of falling to an enemy coming in strength. He understands the necessity to adapt to changing conditions and to remain flexible while pursuing his goals.

Journey: Corwin intends to sail straight to Avalon but gets lost in his very own Wood of Error, so that a spontaneous choice leads him instead into the hell of Lorraine, its Goat, and the citadel at the heart of the Black Circle. Toward the end of the book he is again diverted from his course in that his original mission, to exact vengeance on his brother Eric and seize the throne, is set aside when he comes upon the creatures of the Black Road at Amber’s gates. Just as he set out seeking gunpowder in Avalon but found something else along the way — the knight errant he once was long ago — he marches to Amber to find that the regicide he believed he desired was not what he would ultimately want or choose to do.

Vietnam and the 1970s

The tide had definitely turned against U.S. participation in the Vietnam War by the first years of the decade. Nixon, having seen Johnson’s presidency founder and meet an early end due to the war, initiated a draw-down of forces. Australia and New Zealand pulled out of the war in 1971. By the end of that same year, American ground forces had been withdrawn from the war effort, though involvement would drag on a few more years.

Britain, though victorious after World War I, had been left depleted and weary of war — brutal trench warfare had cost the nation more than a million lives. The Gulf of Tonkin Resolution of 1964 more or less marked the beginning of the Vietnam War in the minds of Americans, when U.S. troop strength went from 23,000 to 184,000. It had therefore gone on longer than World War I and wound up costing approximately 60,000 American lives. In America a fatigue had taken hold which was not so different from what post-Great War Britain had known.

Zelazny may have been responding to the mood of the times when portraying the enormity and senselessness of the losses witnessed, and caused, by Corwin and other princes of Amber.

From the first book:

“…ten thousand men dead in a plains battle with centaurs, five thousand lost in an earthquake of frightening proportions, fifteen hundred dead of a whirlwind plague that swept the camps, nineteen thousand dead or missing in action as they passed through the jungles of a place I didn’t recognize, when the napalm fell upon them from the strange buzzing things that passed overhead, six thousand deserting in a place that looked like the heaven they had been promised, five hundred unaccounted for as they crossed a sand flat where a mushroom cloud burned and towered beside them, eighty-six hundred gone as they moved through a valley of suddenly militant machines that rolled forward on treads and fired fires, eight hundred sick and abandoned, two hundred dead from flash floods, fifty-four dying of duels among themselves, three hundred dead from eating poisonous native fruits, a thousand slain in a massive stampede of buffalo-like creatures, seventy-three gone when their tents caught fire, fifteen hundred carried away by the floods, two thousand slain by the winds that came down from the blue hills.”

What tends to jump out from that passage (especially to readers harkening back to the ’70s):

(1) napalm dropped from aircraft on troops moving through jungles below results in a number of casualties far higher than deaths from any other cause;

(2) immediately after thousands depart for paradise, their desertion is contrasted with the hell of the detonation of a nuclear weapon;

(3) aside from deaths due to centaurs, war machines, nuclear warfare and napalm, natural disasters are responsible for the mass losses of life, yet the total taken by disaster is still dwarfed by the number slain in combat.

There is not much other commentary on war in the series. The subject of warfare is largely confined to the first two books. But there is this from the end of the sixth chapter of Nine Princes in Amber:

“As I stood on a hilltop and the evening began around me, it seemed as if I looked out over every camp I had ever stood within, stretching on and on over the miles and the centuries without end. I suddenly felt tears come into my eyes, for the men who are not like the lords of Amber, living but a brief span and passing into dust, that so many of them must meet their ends upon the battlefields of the world.”

[…to be continued in a future post…]

#the chronicles of amber #roger zelazny #vietnam war #chronicles of amber #nine princes in amber

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