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the-wolf-who-kissed-the-moon · 3 years ago

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• Lady Dimitrescu x female reader 💋 ( + a glimpse of the daughters).

• Warnings: erotica, graphic adult content, sapphic love, adult romance, Stockholm Syndrome, mild horror elements.

glass angel, part XIV.

Whatever version of your lady you’d dreamt at night could not compare to the haunting beauty she was in the flesh. You stretched your arms and embraced her magnificent shoulders with such ferocity, as if was the last time. Alcina loomed over you like a hungry wolf with marble teeth as sharp as daggers, descending upon her small, quivering prey. But instead of catching your soft throat in her feral jaws, she drew the tip of her elegant nose along your flushed cheek and to the velvet outline of your loose hair. Her rich bosom swelled with a deep breath as she savored the sweet scent of you, and like a bank of snow you melted in her arms.

“Draga mea… ești ca o floare.”

My dear, you’re like a blossom.

She praised in a sensual rumble, and though you could not understand her beautiful mother tongue, you felt the meaning behind her sugary words. Obedient, you leaned backwards until your spine was flat against the rigid surface beneath yourself. Lady Dimitrescu’s figure was shadowed by the wide curve of her elegant hat, and yet you could see the look in her eyes very clearly. Two precious citrine stones shimmering with a foreign hunger, a desire you could not understand.

Her palm upon your chest seemed to seek more than soft flesh as it slipped beneath your thin garments. In a moment, arched blades erupted from the tips of her fingers, and she pulled your nightdress away in shredded ribbons. With a startled gasp you attempted to cover yourself, but she caught your thin wrists and spread your arms like angel’s wings. You quieted down steadily and grasped the table’s rough edges, leaving yourself completely vulnerable to her. The elongated swords retreated into her hand, morphing into human-like fingers once more. It was not a mere illusion of your tortured mind. Indeed she possessed gifts you could not even begin to comprehend, yet instead of being fearful, you worshipped her with even greater ardor.

The chilly air of the room rose goosebumps all over your bare skin, your dainty nipples perking. Those glowing, golden eyes were blistering flames on your nude body, rousing needs within you that you no longer were ashamed of. Undoubtedly, Madam Alcina was more than you were ready to experience, yet you couldn’t deny her; not when the softest brush of her palm beneath your chin melted away all your resistance.

“Mistress… what are you doing to me?”

You wondered, more or less rhetorically. Her lips were on your shoulder as she murmured an answer, each syllable stirring the flames.

“Consuming you, my dear…”

And she drew a languid kiss down the thin arch of your collarbones.

“… rebuilding you…”

Garnet lips closed over the tender teeth marks on your soft breasts.

“…into a beauty eternal, and never-dying.”

She embedded those promises into your skin with sensual kisses, leaving a trail of dark red lipstick down the axis of your body. Willingly, you parted your legs to welcome her, almost eager to feel the pain and pleasure of her mouth there. Your thighs were light as clouds in the hold of her massive palms, even if you wanted you couldn’t resist her sultry whims. Her breath, moist and heated, caressed the trail of curls on your pubic bone down to your blooming flower.

“Please, Madam...”

You begged helplessly, anticipating the lengthy torture she had prepared for you. But the lady pressed a wicked smile to your inner thigh and sensually ran her palm up your soft navel to your chest, easily pinning you to her dining table. You were a meal to be savored and she wouldn’t rush a moment of her enjoyment, even at the cost of your sanity.

“Be good, my angel.”

She ordered. It was all you needed to submit.

Those cursed lips…

Soft like rose petals, loving yet cruel. They caressed vague patterns over the virginal skin of your inner thighs, wrapping around sweet, young flesh with the same hunger they devoured a glass of wine. Each bruise was drawn out, suckled slowly until pleasure turned to pain, and pain turned back to pleasure. Your legs were an open canvas for her to paint with sensual violence, and though you shivered and cried pitifully, your needs were left unanswered.

That burning sensitivity between your legs was agonizing, so much that you attempted to lift your dainty hips, starved for the smallest friction. The rebellious act only brought a massive hand around your throat, pinning you into stillness; your much smaller hands barely clawing at your mistress’s formidably strong arm. You were breathless before you could even begin resisting her hold, both from exhaustion and scorching arousal. Agony left you with no choice but to submit once more, in desperate hopes that you’ll find mercy as part of your reward for being good.

It felt like centuries before relief finally came.

The first touch was a powerful bolt of electricity, shocking your whole body with a suddenness that stunned you. Trickling with hot nectar, your core twitched in sweet anticipation as your lady slowly parted your petals with her fingertip. Exposed, and oddly timid, your cheeks burned scarlet and you must’ve been awfully endearing, for Alcina took a moment to gaze at you lovingly.

“That’s a good girl.”

Her voice was a deep, sultry rumble as she witnessed you unfold to her desire, giving yourself to her completely and without resistance. Each gentle stroke of her finger between your aroused labia had you arch softly in unison with her prolonged teasing. The briefest touch of skin against skin enough to almost push you over the edge, yet she was highly experienced and knew how to control your pleasure, to prevent an unexpected climax.

“Ah-… Alcina…”

A faint plea escaped your parched throat, yet she didn’t loosen her grip. The sensual look behind her thick eyelashes made it difficult for you to even think, let alone put words together. But she knew, oh she knew, how greatly you suffered from the lack of proper stimulation, and it only fueled her sadistic nature. Malevolence surfaced on her dashing features, easily disarming you. She dominated you, reduced you to a humble servant ready to endure and take anything she’d offer. Pain, the most.

As the tip of her soft digit formed slow circles around your engorged jewel, she bowed her head low until you felt her deep breath on your dampened folds. Only teasing, never quite enough; and then it came, like a summer hurricane.

A loud, guttural breath erupted from your throat as you shuddered against the masterful dance of her tongue. With slick precision, Alcina made love to every inch of your delicate vulva, from the depths of your core to the soft canyons of your inner lips. Her mouth closed around you wholly, adding to your immediate gratification with a continuous suction whilst she restlessly mapped the shape of you with her tongue. Each sensual lap pinned you with forced pleasure, breaking you into submission, into pitiful shards of yourself, only to build you anew.

You morphed beneath her, from a simple girl to a grown woman, aware of your own body’s erotic needs. She met each one of your desires with such zealous passion you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. And when the final wave crashed over you, you emerged as if reborn; a panting, struggling mess on the altar she laid you upon. An immeasurable glee made you lose your mind and howl her name until every corner of her castle echoed with the sound of your intense climax.

Her deft tongue was merciful at last, withdrawing from between your abused folds before the stinging agony of overstimulation could take over. You bit back heaving whimpers as your lady’s soft mouth wandered aimlessly over your body, seeking your quivering lips. The taste of your erotic bliss was heavy on her tongue, making you dizzy as she kissed you deeply, filling your mouth with the entirety of her overwhelming love. With unabashed desperation you clutched to her wide shoulders, hungry for every bit of contact you could get. Perhaps you wanted to consume her more than she threatened to consume you.

Powerless, you fell limp on the mahogany table as she hovered close and stroked your cheek. Your lashes were damp, your eyes shimmering like precious stones with absolute satisfaction as you turned your head to kiss the warmth of her large palm. Too inebriated to mind the pull of your arms above your head by an unknown force. Vivid adoration bloomed in your hazy eyes as you watched your beloved mistress lean back into her chair and light a cigarette elegantly. While smoking, she caressed your inner thigh with the back of her long, velvet fingers.

“Hhhmmm! Oh, she smells delicious!”

A horrifying voice materialized from the other side of the table.

“My mouth is watering!”

“Please let us taste her!”

Two more chirped with disturbing joy, their sound sickening and familiar. Startled, you tilted your head to look at the three mad women looming over you with gruesome smiles and crazed looks in their feral eyes. All at once the flame of your passion died, leaving a cold stiffness in its place. You realized, then, that your arms were held down by monstrous, clawed hands. In their sick, childlike excitement they begun to feel your body with irresponsible grips, leaving faint scratches behind. With a choked yelp you struggled, fighting wildly against their invasive force.

“Now, now, daughters… Let her rest for a moment.”

Lady Dimitrescu spoke calmly, and the assault instantly ceased.

Daughters? . . .

Shocked and terrified, you threw your head forth to look at Alcina, at how nonchalantly she pursed her lips, filling the air with thin ribbons of smoke. She met your gaze with a sly look, and the corner of her perfect mouth twitched into a malicious sneer.

- To be continued…

*part XV.

#lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #vampire fanfiction #lesbian fanfic #lesbian love #sapphic fanfic #sapphic love

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inkyardpress · 7 years ago

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Excerpt: Everlife by Gena Showalter

CHAPTER ONE

“Life isn’t about what you gain; it’s about what you give.”—Troika

Ten

Present day

I peer up at the indomitable Killian Flynn, my heart thudding against my ribs. Every breath I take fills me with hope, wonder…and dismay.

Our relationship is about to change. Everything is about to change.

Earlier we snuck out of our realms to meet in the Land of the Harvest. A secret cave in Russia’s Ural Mountains, to be exact. Now we stand face-to-face, hand in hand. Jagged rocks create the perfect frame for Killian’s wild, ravaging beauty and the unwavering strength he wields. Strength forged on the bloodiest of battlefields.

There’s no other warrior I’d rather have at my side.

Our people might be at war, but we are going to usher in peace. One step at a time.

I drink him in, this boy I’m trusting with my present—and my future. His skin is a magnificent shade between bronze and gold while his hair is jet black. His eyebrows are thick, masculine, and his nose sharp as a blade. His mouth is soft and lush. Pure temptation…

A shadow of a beard dusts his triangular jaw. Under his T-shirt and jeans, his deliciously muscled body is covered in tattoos. Skulls, stars, roses and other images, all connected by lines, creating some sort of map. That map appears on both his spirit and his Shell—an outer casing made to resemble a spirit—but he’s never told me where it leads.

One day, he’ll share all. We both will.

But it is his eyes that draw me in and hold me captive. His eyes are soulful gold with flecks of electric blue. Always those flecks strike a chord inside me, different songs piercing my soul. Some are fast and erratic, eliciting passion, while others are slow and dreamy; always they are haunting.

Today I hear a seductive melody that sets my blood aflame and chills me to the bone. Makes sense. I am fire, he is ice, yet we fit. After all, the warmth of a fire is best enjoyed on a frigid winter’s day.

So many differences. Too many, most would say.

Just enough to rock the entire world.

I am day. He is night.

I strengthen in Light. He is unrivaled in darkness.

I like rules, structure. He thrives in chaos.

I believe our worst emotions should never dictate our actions; we should help, forgive and care for others. Emotions are fleeting, after all, and subject to change. Why let one ruin your life? He believes emotion should drive us every moment of every day, and caring for others is foolish. Those you help now will stab you in the back later.

To me, today’s choices dictate tomorrow’s reality. To him, Fate decides for us.

I’m a Troikan Conduit. He’s a Myriadian Laborer. We are Lifeblood-born enemies, and yet he is the love of my Everlife.

As different as we are, we are also the same. Painful pasts shaped us, made us stronger. We hold on tight whenever something—or someone—threatens the people and things we love. We fight for what we believe is right, no matter the obstacles in our way.

I’m one of only two Conduits responsible for lighting Troika, and I’m supposed to kill Killian, our enemy. I’m going to marry him, instead.

Chemistry doesn’t care about expectations. I love and adore this boy, and I hold on tight, remember?

Even if I despised him, I would say “I do.” There’s more at stake than our hearts.

Once we unite our spirits, we will have the opportunity to unite our realms and facilitate the peace we so desperately crave. Together, we will enter Myriad and slay Ambrosine, Prince of Ravens. The realm’s corrupt Secondking.

A corrupt leader corrupts his people absolutely.

Then Killian will take the crown, and command, and order his armies to stand down. He will accept the truce Troika once offered. A truce Eron, Prince of Doves and the Secondking of Troika, has wanted for centuries.

Finally the war will end.

Once that is accomplished—or maybe before, we haven’t decided on an order yet—we will save the poor souls trapped inside Many Ends, the hellish sub-realm connected to Myriad.

Many Ends is home to the Unsigned who experience Firstdeath, as well as monstrous beings with a single goal: kill everyone. Spirits are hunted and killed in the most horrific ways. Again…and again. Because, once a spirit “dies” in Many Ends, it comes back to life, ready for round two…three…four…

Four, the number for stability, order and justice. A strong foundation, considering there are four sides in a square. Four cardinal directions—north, south, east, west. Four seasons to complete a year—winter, spring, summer, fall. Four winds, and four phases of the moon.

Four is the only numeral spelled with the same amount of letters as its numerical value.

Focus. I believe the spirits trapped inside Many Ends come back to life, but my theory hasn’t yet been proven.

Another uncertainty? Killian’s mother, Caroline, and my friend Marlowe could be there. But here’s the thing. Neither Caroline nor Marlowe were Unsigned. Caroline made covenant with Myriad years before, only to experience Second-death within days of reaching the realm. Marlowe made covenant with Troika, only to void it when she committed suicide. Different people, different policies.

Myriad claimed Caroline’s spirit Fused with the spirit of a newborn infant the day of her death, but I think they lied. I think all Myriadians wind up in Many Ends, like all Troikans wind up in the Rest.

If people knew, they might not sign with Myriad. Falsehoods and propagandas keep business booming.

I need to save the damned, and I can. I know I can. Not because I’m special. Please. I’m just a girl who can navigate Many Ends’ treacherous labyrinth better than most, because I’ve been there.

A shudder of dismay rocks me.

“I hope ye weren’t thinking of me just then, lass.” Killian lifts my hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles, sending tingles down my spine.

“Are you kidding? The great Killian Flynn only ever makes girls shiver with desire.”

“Or vibrate with anger.”

Smiling, I nod. “That’s fair.”

The ring on his thumb glints in the firelight, warming my heart. After my grandmother Meredith experienced Second-death, I was presented with a token of remembrance. A gun-ring with six-round cylinders, 2mm pinfire. A gorgeous piece of weaponry and a fashion statement. My most prized possession.

I could think of no better gift when Killian gave me a hand-carved pendant in the shape of pi. Infinite possibilities rest within the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter; every possibility for every life. A number without end. Convert letters to numbers, and they, too, can be found within pi. Meaning, every number with any meaning—from our birthdays to the date we die—and every word ever spoken, every word that will be spoken, exist within pi.

“I love you” becomes 9 + 12 + 15 + 22 + 5 + 25 + 15 + 21 = 619.

Or as Killian says:

I = one letter.

Love = four letters.

You = three letters.

143, 10.

Even now, the pendant hangs from a string of leather around my neck, both beautiful and useful. Whenever I’m in trouble, I can press the center, and my location will be sent to Killian’s comm. He can find me in an instant and help.

Now, we’re going to help each other and intertwine our futures with an unbreakable covenant.

What if, despite this, I’m unable to enter Myriad?

Zero! The doubt devil surfaces, and swarms of others follow. Will my Light hurt him? Will his darkness harm me? Will we weaken or strengthen each other? Will our covenant to the realms be voided? What if, after this, neither of us can return home?

Firstlife was a dress rehearsal. Now the curtain is up, and we’re performing in front of a live studio audience. Every word, action and decision comes with a consequence. There are no second chances to right our wrongs. No do-overs.

I’ve been told I’ll turn the tide of the war, somehow, some way. What if my bond to Killian turns the tide in Myriad’s favor?

Maybe I should back out. Except…every fiber of my being suddenly screams in denial. Both realms have reached a boiling point. Every day innocents are slaughtered. Something has to change, and fast. This is our best shot at peace. Our only shot. And really, I want to save Myriad just as much as I want to save Troika. I shouldn’t put one realm above the other.

Face it. If I back out now, fear wins and everyone loses.

I will not make decisions based on “what if.” I will do what’s right, always. Because, in the end, I’m the only one who has to live with my regrets.

Doubt devils can suck it.

Killian squeezes my hands. “Yer paler by the second, lass. There’s still time tae back out.” His accent is thicker than usual, his voice low and husky, and irresistibly sexy. “I doona want you feelin’ pressured.”

“I just…I wish we could speak with other inter-realm couples. We aren’t the first Troikan and Myriadian to fall in love. We can’t be.” Though we’ve searched high and low, we’ve found no one else. Either the others are in hiding…or dead.

He stiffens, as if he’s expecting a devastating blow. “We can put this ceremony on hold and continue searching.”

And end up right where we are, perhaps far too late. “We’re doing this. I’ll share my Light with you, and you’ll share your darkness with me. I’ll pass through the Veil of Midnight.” The doorway that leads into Myriad freezes Troikans to Second-death. But I’m about to become half-Myriadian. Maybe. Probably. Fingers crossed.

“If yer doing this for your mother…”

Mom is locked in the Kennels, a prison in Myriad. I’m going to find and free her, so she can defect to Troika to raise my little brother, Jeremy. “She’s one of many reasons,” I say.

He relaxes, but only slightly. “Yer only seventeen years old. We can revisit the bond in a few decades, yeah.”

Decades? I inhale deeply, drawing in the familiar and beloved scent of peat smoke and heather. His scent. A new wave of calm flows over me, as warm and sweet as honey. “I’m almost eighteen, and you’re only nineteen. So what? We’ve lived, died and lived again. I’m not going to wait to fight for what’s right, and I’m certainly not going to wait to claim you.”

“I doona want you doin’ something you’ll regret.”

His accent has reached maximum thickness. Aka sweet, mouthwatering molasses. Meaning his emotions are engaged and running rampant. “How could I regret a miracle?” I ask.

One dark brow arches as his incredible eyes glitter. “Explain.”

“There are over one hundred billion galaxies. And counting! There are incalculable universes, two realms in the Unending, two sub-realms, nine planets in our solar system, one hundred and ninety-six countries, seven seas, and over seven hundred islands. The fact that we found each other—miracle.”

He laughs. “Ye trying to seduce me, lass? ‘Cause it’s working.”

This boy. Oh, this boy. He’s the one seducing me. Heart, mind, body. I love him.

But go ahead. Remove love from the equation. It doesn’t matter. Still I trust him. Time and time again, he’s defied the orders of his Secondking in an effort to protect my family. He’s helped me when he should have harmed me.

“It’s working, but it hasn’t carried you to the finish line yet?” I mock-growl. “I can’t believe you’re making me talk you into this. It was your idea. Maybe I should wait until you get down on one knee to beg for the honor of becoming my husband.”

His good humor fades in an instant, his features tight with tension. “I willna beg. I had tae beg for scraps as a child, simply to survive. Now I’d rather die than beg for anything.”

“Hey, hey.” Amusement gone, I gently cup his face. Tenderness wells inside me. There’s so much I don’t know about him. So much I’m eager to learn. “I was only teasing, I promise.”

He releases a shuddering breath. A second later, his lips curve in a slow smile full of promise, and tendrils of heat unfurl inside me. He is beautiful beyond imagining, though every chiseled line is cut by cruelty, as if pain lives and breathes inside him. I look at him, and I want to kiss him, hug him and shake him all at once.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You get I’ll be cherishin’ ye every day of my Everlife, yeah?”

Just like that. I’m undone. One smile—and I fall deeper in love with him. One moment of time—and I can’t imagine a single day without him. One sentence—and I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

I rise on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Will ye be cherishin’ me? I mean, yer wearing Troikan armor. Think your marriage is going to be a battlefield, eh?”

I give the collar of my black catsuit a self-conscious tug.

“I kid, I kid.” Killian brushes his knuckles across my jawline. “Ye look good in anything.” His voice takes on a husky timbre. “Later, ye’ll look even better in nothing.”

Heat blooms over my cheeks.

His smile returns, and it’s full of mischief, wonder and adoration. He brushes his thumbs over the rise of my cheekbones. “Yer eyes are like mini-TV screens. They broadcast yer emotions.”

Others have told me I’m impossible to read. But then, Killian knows me better than most, and he wants me anyway. Not because I’m a rare Conduit, but because I’m me. Tenley Lockwood. A girl who’s messed up, time and time again, but continues to get up and keep fighting the good fight.

“Today, a new future will be forged,” I say. “Enemies become family.”

“The first step toward concord between our realms.”

Wind whistles outside our cave, snow billowing, while a fire crackles inside. My gaze snags on the far wall, where the numerical equivalent of our names is carved. 68 + 39.

Killian: 11 + 9 + 12 + 12 + 9 + 1 + 14 = 68

Ten: 20 + 5 + 14 = 39

68 + 39 = 107

Sonnet 107 by William Shakespeare.

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul

Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,

Can yet the lease of my true love control,

Suppos’d as forfeit to a confin’d doom.

The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur’d

And the sad augurs mock their own presage;

Incertainties now crown themselves assur’d

And peace proclaims olives of endless age.

Now with the drops of this most balmy time

My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,

Since, spite of him, I’ll live in this poor rhyme,

While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes;

And thou in this shalt find thy monument,

When tyrants’ crests and tombs of brass are spent.

In other words, love is not subject to time, or even death.

In the back of my mind, the Grid ripples with approval and delivers a new surge of confidence. I am doing the right thing. We will succeed in our endeavors.

Once, I lamented my invisible link to other Troikans. Now I rejoice. Support can mean the difference between victory and defeat. But who would approve of this union? No one but me knows about it.

“Whatever happens next,” Killian says, “doona forget I love ye.” The brawler capable of any dark deed leans down to rub his nose against mine. “All right?”

“All right.” I’ll never forget, and I’ll never tire of hearing those words. “I love you, too.”

His smile reignites, and oh, wow, it’s like Cupid’s arrow through my heart. Killian is more than beautiful. He is life. The crystalline flecks in his eyes… there are eight. Eight is the atomic number for oxygen. Killian is my oxygen, the reason I breathe.

“Ready?” He lifts my hands to his mouth once more and traces his tongue between my knuckles.

My stomach flips over. If not for Shells, Myriadians and Troikans would be unable to touch without agonizing pain. Usually Shells mute sensation. Today I feel everything.

“Tell me what to do,” I rasp.

“Our word is our bond. Speak, and it’s done. We’ll pledge our lives tae each other. Simple, easy.”

As simple and easy as pledging our Everlife to one of the realms. Okay, I can do that. The simplicity doesn’t negate the difficulty, however. I’m giving my life—my future—to another person.

He raises his chin. “I’ll go first, aye.”

“Aye. I mean yes.” My heart thuds against my ribs, and I lick my lips.

When he releases my hands, panic invades. I’ve lost my anchor. Then he cups my face, holding me as if I’m more delicate than glass. “Tenley Nicole Lockwood, you’ve given me life beyond the grave. Until ye, I never knew the power of being connected tae another person. Ye saw the best in me even when I showed ye my worst. Ye trusted me when all evidence pointed tae my guilt. For that, I give ye my Everlife. Everything I am, everything I have, is yers.”

Hot tears well in my eyes, catching in my lashes. How am I supposed to match such a glorious pledge? Well, I have to try.

Nope. Troikans do not try. Troikans do. “Killian—” Zero! “I don’t know your middle name.”

“Niall.”

Killian Niall Flynn. Five Ls. Four Ns.

5 + 4 = 9

Killian Niall Flynn + Ten = 5 Ls and 5 Ns.

5 + 5 = 10

10 = existence. 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 = 10. (1) the FirstKing (2) the Secondkings (3) human life (4) the four elements: earth, air, fire and water.

Ten is completion: the end of one cycle, the beginning of another.

Concentrate!

Oops. My bad. I tend to lose myself in number trivia when I’m nervous. But there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? This is Killian. My Killian. Together, we can handle whatever comes next.

“Killian Niall Flynn.” I wrap my fingers around his wrists as I peer into his eyes. “You found me before the grave and taught me how to live. Until you, I’d known only disappointment and betrayal, but you picked me up every time I fell. You carried me when I was too weak to walk, and you put me first, even when it meant torture and possibly Second-death. For that, I give you my Everlife. Everything I am, everything I have, is yours.”

His expression softens, and I wish, so badly I wish, that my family and friends could witness our union. While my mother is in the Kennel, my father is training to be an ML. He hates me, anyway. My aunt Lina, his twin sister, is missing. No one knows where she is.

Lina can see into the future. As a child, she taught me a rhyme that aided my escape from Many Ends. Only a few weeks ago, she taught me a second rhyme, saving my life when a supposed friend—Victor Prince—attempted to kill me.

I frown. “I don’t feel any different.”

“We aren’t done.” Killian steps back, his arms falling to his sides. “Out of yer Shell, lass.”

I’m confused by the command, but still I obey. He steps from his Shell, as well, gifting me with the sight of two potential husbands. The inanimate Shell, and the spirit man—the real Killian. Usually darkness surrounds him, his own personal veil of smoke. Now the darkness is muted, but there’s no Light emanating from him, either.

He’s so much taller than me, I’m forced to look up, up, up. Scars circle his neck, proof of the pain he’s suffered throughout his Secondlife.

I reach out, intending to trace a fingertip along the raised flesh, but stop myself just before contact. “You’ve been a spirit all your life. Why didn’t you regenerate after you were injured?”

“Spirits are unable to regenerate fully until they reach the Age of Perfection. What you receive as a child, you keep.” He crooks his finger at me. “Come here. I’m goin’ tae kiss ye now.”

A kiss. Of course! A wedding always ends with a kiss.

I move toward him, eager, and he enfolds me in his muscular arms. His lips descend, claiming mine in our first spirit-kiss, no barriers between us, and he isn’t gentle about it. He’s demanding and possessive, pure masculine aggression, and I love every second.

Everything about him makes me think of forbidden nights and carnal indulgence.

I’m burning up rather than freezing as usual, pleasure consuming me, the pain I’m used to feeling nothing but a distant memory.

Realization: We can touch without consequence!

I melt into him, the rest of the world is forgotten as I luxuriate in the sweetness of his flavor.

Now the deal is sealed. This boy is now my husband. And this, our first kiss as a bonded pair, is everything I’ve ever dreamed and more. It’s—

A bolt of ice slams into me, tossing me across the cavern. I collide with the wall and slide to the ground, fighting for breath. Agony sears my right arm. Panting, I look down. Doubletake. An image appears in my flesh, as dark as ink and in the shape of…a horse?

The animal rests under the words Loyalty, Passion, Liberty.

Loyalty to my realm. Passion for the truth. Liberty for all.

The words appeared immediately after my Firstdeath. Actually, numbers appeared. The moment I figured out what those numbers represented, the words took their place.

Why a horse? There has to be a reason. There’s always a reason.

I rack my brain, but all I can come up with—Killian once likened me to a warhorse.

The warhorse paws fiercely, rejoicing in its strength, and charges into the fray. It laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; it does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against its side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement it eats up the ground; it cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds. At the blast of the trumpet it snorts, “Aha!” It catches the scent of battle from afar, the shout of commanders and the battle cry.

But I’m not here to fight him. I’m here to make peace. Unless…

The moisture in my mouth dries. Ready or not, a new battle is headed our way.

My vision goes hazy, and I moan. I am Light, and I’ve never needed to see more! Blinking rapidly helps, allowing me to search for Killian. The same terrible phenomena must have bombarded him, because he’s slouched against the opposite wall. When our gazes meet, he reaches in my direction, the numbers tattooed on his wrist visible.

143, 10. I love you, Ten.

Beneath the numbers I spy a new image. A horse. A match to mine, though his is white and mine is black.

His eyes are alight with…no, impossible! The flecks I so adore cannot be doused in literal flames, flickering with both light and shadow.

I need to get to him, now, but my muscles are like frozen blocks of ice. And the Grid—

The Grid! My connection to Troika, and a reminder that there is so much more to the world—to my world—than what I can see and feel at any given time.

Shadows dance along the Grid, where multiple doorways loom. Those doorways lead to rooms. In some, I’ve stored extra Light. Others provide a link to the conscious minds of different citizens. One in particular opens up to the Rest, where our dead spend eternity at peace.

A pang of homesickness strikes me. Meredith, Archer and Levi are there. I miss them desperately.

Radiating hatred, the shadows try to sneak into one room after another. I fight to keep the doorways closed as information bombards me. Darkness is measured by the absence of Light. These shadows, whatever they are, must have come from Killian, and our bond, and yet they are so familiar to me…as if they are old friends. How is that possible?

Doesn’t matter. Must…do…something. Now!

Left with no other choice, I change tactics and open a door to one of my storage rooms. In a vivid, dazzling rush, bright Light escapes. Shadows hiss, some dying the second they come into contact with a beam, others slithering away, and, oh, zero, sharp pains explode through my head, and I scream.

Can’t give up. Strengthen in the Light, die in the darkness.

Between one breath and the next, the pain leaves me, and a scene opens in my mind. A memory that is not my own.

I’m standing in a doorway, watching a young couple walk down the center of a hallway. There are thirteen children lined up beside me, all under the age of ten. The couple stops to question a little girl before dismissing her and moving on to a little boy. He, too, is dismissed. The next three children are ignored, but the couple pauses to inspect the teeth of the fourth.

Closer to me by the second…

I’m nervous. I would kill to have a family of my own—literally—but no one will look at me twice. What’s wrong with me? What do I lack?

Easy: absolutely everything.

Once, my superiors thought I was destined to become a General. Everyone wanted me, then. When I failed to develop the necessary skills, the want turned to disdain.

I try so hard, and I train harder than everyone else combined. I learned how to use a sword and every type of gun. Even the Stag and the Oxi, the most dangerous weapons in a Laborer’s arsenal. One day I’ll kill more Troikans than any General in our history. I vow it.

Just give me a chance. Please!

The couple is on the move again…so, so close to me…the woman looks me over and gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head before passing me, silent. My heart sinks, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

Me? Cry? Never! I keep my head high. If this family doesn’t want me, fine, I don’t want them, either. They aren’t good enough. I’m better off at the Learning Center, anyway.

The scene goes blank, and I—Ten—blink open my eyes. I’m back in the present, back in the cave, panting and drenched in sweat yet shivering with bone-deep chill. I was wrong. The pain didn’t subside; it ramped up.

The memory…it came from Killian. I know in my heart. Having died soon after his mother gave birth to him, he spent his childhood inside the Learning Center, a Myriadian orphanage.

Humans—both in flesh and spirit form—could be ugly in so many ways. Rotten inside. Vile and cruel. But they were also layered. Pull back the ugliness, and you might see a hurt. Pull back another layer, and you might see a child who used to crave approval, affection and acceptance.

A child like Killian had been. My husband has seen the worst the world(s) have to offer. I want so badly to hold him in my arms and comfort the boy he’d been, and praise the man he’d become.

My gaze seeks him. He’s on his back, pulling at his hair. Like me, he’s panting and drenched in sweat. But he’s muttering, “Kill, kill, kill.”

Kill…who? Is he seeing into my memories?

“I’m here,” I tell him. “I’m—”

My heart stops, stealing my words as a man and woman storm into the cave.

#Gena Showalter #Everlife #book excerpt #ya books #ya reads

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xt1erminator-blog · 8 years ago

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My History With D&D: How I Got Started

This should have been my introductory post on this blog, but, lazy.

It was a dark and stormy night.

No really, it was a dark and stormy night. I'm not just pretending to be Snoopy writing a novel. Anyhow, I recall being over at an elementary school friend's house for a sleep over I believe. Must have been 10 or 11 years old. There were three or four of us, and my friend, we'll call him Willy, was Dungeon Master. I had no actual playing experience before this night (the only time I had run into this strange game was several years earlier when I was over at the neighbour's house and their much older teenage kids were sitting around the kitchen table with their friends, the table cluttered with big books and weird shaped pieces of plastic and small metal figurines, and bottles and cans of pop and chips and all sorts of delicious looking junk food... it was similar to that scene in E.T. where the kids are playing D&D [not the photo above! - that’s from Freaks & Geeks] except it was daytime). And here I was now, sitting in a camper trailer in the middle of a big thunder/rain storm being shown how to make something called a "character". I have no recollection what race or class this character was, or his name. I do remember though that he used a mace as his weapon and wore chainmail, and had iron rations. Maybe he was a cleric. I think it was red box Basic D&D we were playing.

I think I might have played a total of two or three games at Willy's place. Mostly with the same other friends playing it each time. The last game we played was using the 1st Edition AD&D rule books, and it was way over my head at the time. I remember stealing money from my paper route collections (which were probably due at the end of the week) and buying my own red box Basic D&D set and some dice, and I played the solo adventure for awhile (damn rust monster!) and then just hid out in the basement with a stack of graph paper, and drew out dungeon after dungeon after dungeon. They all sucked, I’m sure. I think the next major book purchase was the 2nd Edition Player's Handbook. And then the Monstrous Manual binder. Man, I hated that binder. What an awful format. I mean, great for organizing, being able to take out monster sheets and add in new ones, etc. but functionality-wise, it was a disaster. The binder didn't sit well with the other books on a shelf and whatever lamination they used for the exterior of the cover got very scuffed up if you put it in a backpack and it looked like ass in no time flat. The good old days. I would borrow other books and modules from anyone who was willing to let me take them away from them for any length of time, and sit there and read parts of them, mostly paying attention to the cool maps and the artwork. I remember photocopying many a module at the public library too.

So for several years after, I would mostly just read the books, and Dragon and Dungeon magazines, and attempt to create my own maps and even once or twice spent some money on miniatures and tried to paint them. Massive fail. If I would have know that the Ral Partha Forgotten Realms Heroes miniatures set I bought for $15 back in the late 80's/early 90's (whenever it was) would be worth hundreds of dollars almost 30 years later, I would have taken greater care with how much primer I carelessly sprayed on to those poor little figures, getting the shit all over my dad’s workshop tool bench (sorry Wulfgar, Drizzt, Dragonbait, Alias, etc.!) and how much paint I recklessly slapped on to them thinking I was doing things right. Ouch.

I tend to ramble so I'll try to summarize everything else up until now with a bit less detail. After elementary school came high school and there wasn't a lot of action when it came to playing Dungeons & Dragons, well with cool people I mean. There was a small group at the first high school I attended, that would play a game in the art room in the lower level of the school. I sat in once, maybe twice, to check it out. Wasn't my bag. These were the stereotypical super geeky, taped-up-eyeglasses nerds that were more interested in dissecting the rules and not playing with any real imagination it seemed. They were kind of like robots. Plus, not very fun when you have 45 minutes for a lunch break to try and make any progress in an adventure. I heard about others in this school who played, but I was never invited to go play in anyone's campaign. I stopped in a few times to see what was going on with another friend's home game, but didn't end up playing because they were a little too into roleplaying. Most of the playing I did happened later in my teenage years when I ended up playing in late night sessions with some older seniors at another school I went to, and then some games here and there with a bunch of fellows who have since turned out to be what you might call "life long friends". The good guys. Then, in my early 20's, I was the first of anyone I knew to do something incredibly stupid: meet a girl on the internet (1997), marry her and move to another country.

From that point on, I guess I lost interest in the hobby. I had always wanted to run my own game, but no opportunities ever arose, or I didn't have anywhere to play or I was just too on edge to be able to compose myself if a game were to actually take formation. I spent a lot of my time learning how to play musical instruments and often partied. Often. I don't regret it, those were some of the best times I've had. Years passed and I really didn't think about D&D or playing any sort of table top game at all. I grew more fond of digital entertainment, PC games, console games, etc. I ended up attempting to become somewhat of a "photographer", and after many years I think I'm happy with where I am at with that particular hobby. It was one of those things you never thought to pursue and then one day, you end up spending several hundred dollars on a friend's used DSLR body and a strange, big zoom lens you have no clue how to use properly.

After almost six years and a "should have seen that one coming" style divorce, I returned back home and was again surrounded by my long time friends. It took a little bit of adjustment to get back into the circle with everyone - just picking up and leaving the country when you're 22 years old and supposed to be starting to explore your options for a career and everything, can kind of make a mess of your social connections. I ended up getting back on my feet pretty quickly though, and found work a month and a half after coming home. I'm still there actually, almost 15 years later.

So, how did I reconnect with my beloved hobby? It was almost two years ago or so (summer of 2015, I don't know if Tumblr dates these blog posts, I don't think so). My wife's step brothers had asked if she knew anyone who had ever played Dungeons & Dragons. She mentioned to them that I did. She asked on their behalf if I would run a game for them, they were curious and hadn't played before. I declined, no way no how. Been out of touch with it for years. Didn't play anymore. Made up some excuses. Left it at that. I had never run my own games before and had no confidence that I could be very effective when trying to introduce newcomers in to the game.

Then, at the end of that summer, another opportunity arose. Some mutual friends/family expressed interest in trying out the new 5th Edition of Dungeons & Dragons. They had been watching Critical Role online and somehow it came up in discussion. I had spent the last few months recalling my love for the game from my past, and ended up being much more receptive to the idea. I was much older, had been through a lot of situations in my life where things like social interaction was easier for me to become comfortable with, and I was developing a passion for it again, it seemed. After downloading the free basic 5e rules, and researching some things on YouTube, I was all for it. Our first session was on my 39th birthday at the beginning of October, 2015. It has snowballed into an addiction since then. I have invested a lot of my time (and money) into a small collection of books and miniatures, and some writing to fuel a small Forgotten Realms campaign. We don't play often, maybe every month and a half to two months, as it depends heavily on my wife's work schedule and when she can book a weekend off. I don't like playing on weekday evenings, as I'm usually pretty burned out from work or there just isn't much time to get into a good game before having to cut it short because people have to work the next day.

My Forgotten Realms campaign, currently one of two games I run, started out with three characters: a dwarven sorcerer, a half-orc druid and a gnome rogue. For the first session or two, I attempted to incorporate a PC that I was playing, a cleric of Bane. His appearance was very brief, as I decided it was not going to work well, playing a character while trying to hold down the fort being Dungeon Master and running the show. I'm not at that stage yet. So, I sent the cleric off in the night to go tend to an important mission while the rest of the party carried on. I used the majority of the 5e Starter Set module, Lost Mine of Phandelver. It did the job. I twisted it up a bit and definitely didn't follow it as per the booklet, and I still do that to this day. My style when using pre-written adventures, it seems, is to grab bits and pieces that are essential, and do the rest on the fly and change as necessary based on what the players may do to throw things off. And that's a good thing. It's helping me build skills to become a better Dungeon Master that can adapt to different scenarios, because it almost always doesn't go the way you plan it will go. I learned that early on. After a few months of playing and completing the Wave Echo Cave area, a situation arose that brought the party through a portal leading to the entrance to the Undermountain dungeon, located underneath The Yawning Portal in the great city of Waterdeep. This was an opportune moment to introduce a new player to the group, which happened thanks to a spur of the moment idea I had, to invite an old friend who I knew was a fan of what we were doing. I wasn't sure if he was up for joining the group, but you don't know until you ask, right? The next session, without saying too much of anything, the door bell rang and moments later the group now had a paladin amongst their ranks. It's been a way better game since.

The second campaign I'm going to start running over the next few weeks will be based upon the Eberron setting, which up until last week I had personally shrugged off any time it came up in my travels, and had no interest in even reading what it was about. I'm not sure why that is, I think the brief encounters I had with it previously were based on flipping through some 3rd Edition books, and I just wasn't picking up on what it was all about. I have never been much into anything 3e, the look and design of the books are unappealing to me. This past week though, one of my players and I got ahold of the 4th Edition Eberron Campaign and Player's guides, and I started reading them. I am really liking the setting and am looking forward to trying to use it in a new game. Lightning Rails, Airships, Warforged, Shifters, Dragonmarks - very cool stuff! Also of help here was a video on Nerdarchy’s YouTube channel where the guys discuss 10 Reasons Why 5th Edition Needs Eberron

This leads to my next post: What Might Eberron For 5e Be Like?

Coming soon!

-runDMsteve

#eberron #d&d #d&d 5e #nerdarchy #forgotten realms #Dungeons and Dragons #waterdeep #undermountain #tales from the yawning portal #lost mine of phandelver

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cutsliceddiced · 6 years ago

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New top story from Time: The 50 Most Anticipated Movies Coming Out in Summer 2019

Blockbuster film season has arrived, and its first entry will almost certainly be its biggest. Avengers: Endgame opened last week and shattered all kinds of box office records; its reviews have also been extremely strong.

But the rest of the slate of summer movies is just as intriguing: ambitious live-action Disney adaptations, a star-studded Tarantino return, terrifying original horror stories and soundtracks from rock legends. Here are 50 of the biggest summer movies coming to theaters (and, in some cases, streaming in a living room) near you.

Avengers: Endgame (April 26)

If you’ve stayed with the Marvel Cinematic Universe for 21 films, you’ll probably be happy to sit through the climactic film’s monstrous three-hour runtime. Those of the Avengers extended family who survived Thanos’ devastating final attack in Avengers: Infinity War—including Iron Man, Captain America, the Hulk, Thor, and Black Widow—are joined by newcomer Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) to turn the tables against him.

Knock Down the House (May 1, Netflix)

In 2018, a record 529 women ran for Congress. This documentary, which won the Festival Favorite Award at Sundance this year, follows four of them, including Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, as they attempt to overcome skepticism and long odds on the campaign trial.

Long Shot (May 3)

For some reason, beautiful and impressive women, from characters played by Katherine Heigl to Rose Byrne to Elizabeth Banks, tend to fall in love with Seth Rogen in movies. The latest to do so is Charlize Theron’s Charlotte Field, the poised and intelligent U.S. Secretary of State running for president who hires Rogen’s schlubby journalist to punch up her speechwriting.

Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile (May 3, Netflix)

This controversial film about Ted Bundy has received mixed reviews since its Sundance premiere, but Zac Efron has drawn raves for his shivering portrayal of the serial killer. Lily Collins plays Bundy’s girlfriend, who witnesses his descent into a steadily darkening place.

Wine Country (May 8, May 10 on Netflix)

A group of SNL pals—Tina Fey, Rachel Dratch, Amy Poehler, Maya Rudolph, Ana Gasteyer, Paula Pell, and Emily Spivey—have been taking real-life vacations together for years. Those uproarious, disastrous trips served as the inspiration for this warm comedy, which is Poehler’s directorial debut.

Detective Pikachu (May 10)

The creatures of Pokémon invaded the real world three years ago thanks to Pokémon Go—but they lacked fur, scales or saliva. This quasi-live-action film, in which Ryan Reynolds voices Pikachu, imbues Pokémon with all of those physical attributes, making them alternately unsettling and adorable.

The Hustle (May 10)

Scam Season never ends. This remake of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels features one experienced con artist (Anne Hathaway) taking a small-time scammer (Rebel Wilson) under her wing, as they embark on a quest to swindle a tech billionaire. Hathaway slips into her British accent and sillier side.

Poms (May 10)

A group of legendary actresses (Diane Keaton, Pam Grier, Jacki Weaver and Rhea Perlman) play women in a retirement community who shake off rust and bad hips to form a cheerleading squad.

Tolkien (May 10)

The $1 billion Lord of the Rings Amazon series won’t arrive for awhile, but Tolkien fans can bide their time with this biopic starring Nicholas Hoult. The film presumably takes liberties, as many biopics do, with the writer’s life; Tolkien’s family recently issued a statement expressing their disapproval.

The Souvenir (May 17)

Two generations of Swintons appear in critical darling Joanna Hogg’s latest film, which premiered to raves at Sundance. A shy film student (Honor Swinton Byrne) enters into a turbulent and destructive relationship which threatens to throw her off her path. Her real-life mother Tilda Swinton plays her buttoned-up mother in the movie.

John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum (May 17)

The legend of Keanu Reeves has only seemed to deepen over time. He returns to play the title character of this cult-favorite franchise, which features plenty of exquisite hand-to-hand combat and canine love.

The Sun Is Also A Star (May 17)

Grown-ish star Yara Shahidi and Riverdale‘s Reggie Charles Melton play star-crossed lovers in this adaptation of the YA novel by Nicola Yoon.

Aladdin (May 24)

Disney hopes that the live-action reboot of its beloved animated take on the Middle Eastern folktale will be a huge hit. For better or worse, much of the recent discourse surrounding the film has centered on Will Smith’s bewildering body paint. “Will Smith as #Aladdin’s genie makes me want to uninvent CGI,” wrote one user on Twitter. Blue paint aside, the film itself looks like a splashy, effects-heavy take on the original.

Booksmart (May 24)

The trope of the Last High School Party has been told time and time again through the years—from Dazed and Confused to Superbad—but very rarely has it been seen through female eyes. Olivia Wilde’s directorial debut features two goodie-two-shoes seniors (played by Beanie Feldstein and Kaitlyn Dever) as they attempt to leave high school with a bang.

Always Be My Maybe (May 29, May 31 on Netflix)

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#AlwaysBeMyMaybe comes out May 31st!

A post shared by Ali Wong (@aliwong) on Apr 23, 2019 at 8:00am PDT

Randall Park and Ali Wong play childhood best friends-turned lovers in this will-they-won’t-they rom-com. Look out for lots of delicious-looking food, a spot-on D’Angelo impression and a hysterical cameo from one of the superstars on this list.

Godzilla: King of the Monsters (May 31)

The mythical Japanese monster was given a jolt in 2014, when Gareth Edwards’ film was largely praised (though not in this magazine) for its jaw-dropping visuals and action sequences. The sequel features Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown and an array of leviathans and giant brutes.

Rocketman (May 31)

The latest entry of the classic rock biopic boom traces the life of Elton John, who is imbued with flair and an impressively accurate singing impression by actor Taron Egerton.

Domino (May 31)

The director Brian De Palma celebrates 50 years in cinema with this grisly thriller starring Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. The Game of Thrones alumnus plays a Copenhagen police officer tracking down the killer of his partner.

Ma (May 31)

Octavia Spencer has often been typecast as sweet or wearied characters, perhaps in part due to what she terms her “nurse face.” She is far more sinister in this new psychological thriller, in which she plays a woman who begins to terrorize a group of teenagers in small-town Ohio.

Deadwood: The Movie (May 31, HBO)

Fans of the HBO Western series have been begging for a reboot since the show was abruptly cancelled after three seasons. The film, which has been in development hell for more than a decade, will finally come to fruition and grapple with death and memory loss—themes that creator David Milch has confronted in his real life after being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

Dark Phoenix (June 7)

Game of Thrones will be wrapped up by early June, but Sophie Turner’s rise is just getting started. The actor who portrays Sansa Stark on the HBO series will lead the latest X-Men installment; she plays Jean Grey, a telepathic mutant struggling with the power of her alter ego, Phoenix.

Late Night (June 7)

Emma Thompson plays a curmudgeonly late-night talk show host opposite Mindy Kaling—who also wrote the movie—as an idealistic writer and the only woman in the writers room. The unlikely pair attempts to lift the show out of white-male mediocrity and prevent a looming cancellation.

The Last Black Man in San Francisco (June 7)

Joe Talbot’s directorial debut won rave festival reviews for its wistful portrayal of a rapidly-gentrifying San Francisco. A black San Franciscan named Jimmie Fails plays himself as he attempts to reclaim his childhood home in the Fillmore District.

Secret Life of Pets 2 (June 7)

Patton Oswalt, Tiffany Haddish and Harrison Ford join an already star-studded cast of voice actors for the second installment of this chipper animated franchise. Oswalt takes over for the disgraced Louis C.K. in voicing the protagonist Jack Russell Terrier.

Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese (June 12, Netflix)

From The Last Waltz to Shine a Light, Martin Scorsese has proven that few directors can match his ability to capture the intimacy and kinetic energy of a rock concert. Here, he turns his focus to Bob Dylan—whose life he explored in the 2005 documentary No Direction Home—and his legendarily freewheeling 1975-1976 tour, which featured appearances from Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez.

Shaft (June 14)

The third generation of “the black James Bond” arrives in the guise of Jessie Usher. He is joined by the Shafts who came before him: his father (played by Samuel L. Jackson) and grand-uncle (played by Richard Roundtree, the original Shaft). The last Shaft movie, released in 2000, was directed by the late director John Singleton.

Men in Black: International (June 14)

Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson showed off a crackling rapport in Thor: Ragnarok. The duo reconvenes in this latest installment of the alien franchise that leaves Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones on the sidelines. In this one, Hemsworth and Thompson take their carbonizers to London.

Spider-Man: Far From Home (June 14)

Spider-Man: Homecoming served as a welcome reprieve from the weary darkness of much of the rest of the Marvel Universe. In this sequel to that 2017 movie, Peter Parker (Tom Holland) sets off on a European vacation, where Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) recruits him in a fight against Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal).

The Dead Don’t Die (June 14)

Jim Jarmusch, a titan of independent film, wrote and directed a movie populated by what is being billed “the greatest zombie cast ever disassembled”: Bill Murray, Adam Driver and Chloë Sevigny play police officers who lead the defense against a zombie attack on a small town. They are joined, in living and undead form, by Tilda Swinton, Steve Buscemi, Danny Glover, Selena Gomez and Iggy Pop, among others.

Wild Rose (June 14)

A brash ex-convict and single mother from Glasgow, played by Jessie Buckley, strives to become a Nashville country star. Buckley has received rave reviews for the role: “As a musician, she’s terrific, but as an actress she’s even better, with ceaselessly mobile features like a changeable Northern sky,” Leslie Felperin wrote in the Hollywood Reporter.

Child’s Play (June 21)

Mark Hamill, who in addition to playing Luke Skywalker is one of the great voice actors in film and television history for his Joker and other roles, lends his pliable vocal cords to another terrifying villain: Chucky. Aubrey Plaza plays a mother who gifts her son that unsettling doll before realizing it has started murdering people.

Toy Story 4 (June 21)

Woody, Buzz and the gang meet a new friend: a plastic spork with googly eyes and an existential crisis. Tom Hanks, Tim Allen and the rest of the talented voice cast return for the fourth installment of this beloved series—as does the voice of Mr. Potato Head, the irascible, late Don Rickles, whose parts were assembled through archival recordings.

Annabelle Comes Home (June 28)

The Conjuring universe continues to expand and terrify. This film—the third of the hugely successful Annabelle subfranchise—takes place between The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2 and follows the paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) as they bring home a doll that will soon torment their young daughter.

Yesterday (June 28)

A mediocre singer-songwriter (Himesh Patel) is hit by a bus during a global blackout and wakes up to a world in which nobody but him remembers the Beatles. He begins passing their songs off as his own, kickstarting a long and winding road through fame and disillusionment.

Midsommar (July 3)

Director Ari Aster shocked the world last year with his grotesque and exhilarating horror film Hereditary. From the looks of it, his follow-up will be equally unsettling: it follows a summer festival in a small Swedish village that quickly turns into a bloody competition.

Crawl (July 12)

You’ll probably want to stay away from bodies of water after seeing Alexandre Aja’s latest horror flick. The film sees a daughter and father trapped inside a house during a hurricane—along with a teeming horde of alligators from the Florida Everglades.

Stuber (July 12)

Kumail Nanjiani is a nebbish Uber driver; Dave Bautista is a gassed-up cop. They bounce off each other in this 21st-century take on the odd-couple road trip.

The Farewell (July 12)

Courtesy of A24Awkwafina stars in The Farewell, written and directed by Lulu Wang.

Awkwafina is best known for her uproarious, scene-stealing turns in Ocean’s 8 and Crazy Rich Asians. But she shows off her range in The Farewell, a sensitive family drama in which her character and her family travel to China from New York City to say goodbye to her dying grandmother.

The Lion King (July 19)

The big cats of this computer-generated, photorealistic remake of Disney’s animated classic have some new and famous voices: Donald Glover will voice Simba, while Beyoncé lends her pipes to Nala. But one voice will remain from the original 1994 film: the deep, reassuring tones of James Earl Jones as Mufasa.

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (July 26)

Quentin Tarantino’s ninth film—he has said he’s retiring after ten—takes place in 1969 Los Angeles as the city reels from the Manson Family murders. Leonardo DiCaprio took a pay cut to star as a washed-up Western actor; Brad Pitt plays his body double and Margot Robbie is Sharon Tate. Al Pacino, Bruce Dern, Lena Dunham and Luke Perry—in his last credited role—also star.

Dora and the Lost City of Gold (July 31)

Dora, the diminutive explorer, charmed a generation of children on Nickelodeon with her whimsical, low-stakes cartoon adventures. Will those fans follow her into this live-action adventure film? Dora, now in high school, plunges into the jungle to confront a familiar foe (Swiper the fox) with a terrifying new voice (Benicio del Toro).

New Mutants (August 2)

Two months after Dark Phoenix, it’s the little Stark sister’s turn to plunge into the X-Men universe. Maisie Williams plays one in a group of young mutants who are held against their will and attempt to break out of their captivity. The movie is being billed, unlike its more action-oriented predecessors, as horror.

The Nightingale (August 2)

Jennifer Kent’s harrowing follow-up to the global horror phenomenon The Babadook had a successful run at film festivals beginning last summer. The movie, which stars Aisling Franciosi and Sam Claflin, follows a young woman seeking revenge for the murder of her family.

Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw (August 2)

The latest Fast and Furious spinoff knows exactly what it is, and so do you: there will be fast cars, flying fists, hair-raising explosions, sweeping waterfront locales, and grandiose paeans to importance of family. Dwayne Johnson and Jason Statham frontline this mission against a menacing and cyber-genetically enhanced Idris Elba.

Artemis Fowl (August 9)

It’s been 18 years since the twelve-year-old criminal mastermind Artemis Fowl hacked his way into the hearts of young readers across the world. Seven novels later, the precocious criminal will finally arrive on the big screen in the hopes of kickstarting the next blockbuster fantasy franchise.

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (August 9)

Guillermo del Toro loves his monsters, and especially the ones found in this book by Alvin Schwartz. Del Toro stumbled upon the series at a bookstore in Texas and was compelled to produce this adaptation; it will likely feature a handful of the series’ creepiest and most compelling tales.

The Kitchen (August 9)

Alison Cohen Rosa—Alison Cohen RosaElisabeth Moss, Melissa McCarthy and Tiffany Haddish in The Kitchen.

Tiffany Haddish, Elisabeth Moss and Melissa McCarthy play mob wives-turned-mobsters in this 1970s period drama. They confront rival gangs, the FBI, and their own criminal husbands with barrage after barrage of gunfire.

Blinded By the Light (August 14)

Nick Wall—Nick Wall(L-r) Nell Williams, Viveik Karla and Aaron Phagura in Blinded by the Light.

Sarfraz Manzoor was born thirty years after Bruce Springsteen and grew up more than three thousand miles away. But as a teenager, he came to realize that the existential dread of Thatcherite Britain closely mirrored the “death trap” of Springsteen’s New Jersey. This film, which Manzoor co-adapted from his memoir, Greetings from Bury Park, dramatizes the story of how he turned to The Boss’ music for escape and uplift.

Good Boys (August 16)

Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg specialize in the hijinks of juvenile men. But this film, which they produced, might be their first since Superbad in which the characters’ maturity levels properly match their ages. It centers around three middle-schoolers as they enter the agonies and ecstasies of teeangerdom. Jacob Tremblay, one of the youngest Oscar nominees ever, gets in on their potty-mouthed humor.

Where’d You Go, Bernadette (August 16)

Maria Semple’s 2012 novel about a disappearing mother spent a year on the New York Times‘ bestseller list. Cate Blanchett stars in the titular role; Richard Linklater directs.

via https://cutslicedanddiced.wordpress.com/2018/01/24/how-to-prevent-food-from-going-to-waste

#Time #top stories #IFTTT #news

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njawaidofficial · 7 years ago

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How the 'Game of Thrones' Premiere Answered the Show's Most Iconic Moment

http://styleveryday.com/2017/07/17/how-the-game-of-thrones-premiere-answered-the-shows-most-iconic-moment/

How the 'Game of Thrones' Premiere Answered the Show's Most Iconic Moment

[Warning: this story contains spoilers for the season seven premiere of HBO’s Game of Thrones, “Dragonstone.”]

Heading into season seven, all eyes were aimed at a House Stark family reunion. But how many people were considering the ramifications of a House Frey family reunion?

Red Wedding retribution was already on the menu last season, as Lord Walder Frey (David Bradley) suffered an unglamorous and lonely death at the hands of Arya Stark (Maisie Williams) in the season six finale. But Arya’s Red Wedding revenge tour didn’t end there. Game of Thrones returned this year with an opening sequence that serves as a final answer to the show’s most brutal and iconic sequence, an instant all-timer of a scene that’s sure to go down as one of the most satisfying moments in Thrones lore, due in large part to its surprising book connections.

The episode, called “Dragonstone,” begins in the great hall of the Twins, the same spot where the Starks were slaughtered. A very much alive Lord Frey sneers down at his gathered family members, all of whom are drinking and eating and otherwise causing a ruckus. Frey loudly taps his table twice in order to get his fellows’ attention, a move that harkens back to how the original Red Wedding launched.

“You’re wondering why I brought you all here,” says Frey. “After all, we’ve just had a feast. Since when does Old Walder give us two feasts in a single fortnight?”

The old man reveals that he’s “gathered every Frey who means a damn thing so I can tell you my plans for this great house now that winter has come,” and in a certain reading of those words, he’s not lying. But first, a toast. Frey makes all of the gathered members of the family drink a glass of Arbor Gold, a highly valued white wine grown in the south of Westeros. “Proper wine for proper heroes,” he bellows.

When they set down their cups, Frey praises his family as “the men who helped me slaughter the Starks at the Red Wedding.” They cheer uproariously, and Frey quickly quiets them down, greatly changing the temperature in the room.

“Yes, yes… cheer. Brave men, all of you,” he snarls. “Butchered a woman, pregnant with a baby. Cut the throat of a mother of five. Slaughtered your guests after inviting them into your home.”

Frey’s vivid description of how Talia (Oona Chaplin) and Catelyn (Michelle Fairley) died sends a chill through the room. Soon, the chill is replaced with choking, as the various Freys begin gagging and gasping for air.

“But you didn’t slaughter every one of the Starks,” Frey continues. “No, no, no. That was your mistake. You should have ripped them all out, root and stem. Leave one wolf alive, and the sheep are never safe.”

Within seconds, every single Frey hits the floor, dead or rapidly dying from drinking poisoned wine. Frey then reveals he’s not Frey at all, as he rips off his own face and reveals the true killer beneath: Arya. She turns to the lone survivor — Walder’s youngest and latest wife — and tells her to deliver a message to the crown.

“Tell them the North remembers,” says Arya. “Tell them winter came for House Frey.”

And with that that, the episode cuts to the main title sequence, just enough time to process the gravity of Arya’s actions. When the season seven premiere screened in Los Angeles last week, audience members burst out in uncomfortable laughter and cries of excitement throughout the twisting-and-turning scene, and it’s easy to understand why: in an instant, Arya singlehandedly wiped out House Frey, one of the two central families responsible for the most vicious and most memorable mass murder in Game of Thrones. There are still people in Westeros who played a role in the Red Wedding, but in terms of sheer percentages, Arya just carved out a huge portion of the perpetrators. “Winter is here,” indeed.

House Frey’s fall is an exciting prospect on a number of levels, not the least of which is that it blends a couple of key storylines from George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series on which Thrones is based. In the books, there are two major players seeking active vengeance for the Red Wedding. The first is Lord Wyman Manderly of White Harbor, the head of a great Northern house who lost a son during the Red Wedding. He’s since played a politically clean game with the Lannisters, Boltons and Freys, cooking up revenge in secret — literally cooking, too, as he has members of House Frey killed, baked into pies, and served up as delicious pastries to their unknowing relatives.

“The best pie you have ever tasted, my lords,” Manderly tells the Freys at one point in A Dance with Dragons. “Wash it down with Arbor Gold and savor every bite. I know I shall.”

In season six’s finale, Arya served Walder Frey a slice of Frey pie before slitting his throat. Now, as of the season seven premiere, Arya completed the Manderly sequence by poisoning the Frey family with Arbor Gold. Given that it’s a white wine, and given that winter is here, perhaps it’s worth referring to the Red Wedding response as the White Wedding? Certainly comes with a catchy theme song.

Beyond Manderly, Arya is channeling another character from Martin’s novels: Lady Stoneheart, the resurrected form of Catelyn Stark. In the books, the Brotherhood Without Banners discovers Catelyn’s corpse three days after the Red Wedding. Beric Dondarrion (Richard Dormer) sacrifices his final life in order to revive Catelyn, but the person who returns is not the person who died at the Twins. Taking on the moniker of “Lady Stoneheart,” the monstrous Catelyn takes over the Brotherhood and rededicates their mission: rather than helping out small folk, they will instead focus all efforts on wiping out every single living Frey in the Riverlands, as well as anyone with even the slightest affiliation to the Red Wedding.

Lady Stoneheart even hangs Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie) and Podrick Payne (Daniel Portman) at the end of the fourth book, A Feast for Crows. She demands that they find Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and bring him back for retribution, but Brienne refuses, at least initially. The events of the fifth book heavily suggest that Brienne has had a change of heart, and is now on the verge of putting Jaime on Lady Stoneheart’s vengeful path.

Of course, this version of Catelyn Stark never arrived on the show, and at this point, she never will. Her debut was initially expected at the end of season three, then again at the end of season four, and when it didn’t happen at the end of season five, most fans agreed it would never happen at all. Recently, Martin confirmed the show has no Lady Stoneheart plans; it’s likely that Game of Thrones showrunners David Benioff and Dan Weiss wanted to save its big resurrection surprise for Jon Snow (Kit Harington) conquering death in season six. (We now believe Beric’s role in Stoneheart’s creation could factor into a major Jon moment later this season.)

While Game of Thrones deprived book readers of Lady Stoneheart and Wyman Manderly, both of those beloved characters and their insatiable desire to avenge the Red Wedding live on through the unexpected yet completely worthy avatar of Arya Stark. The North remembers both Stoneheart and Manderly, but even without them, and with Arya in place, winter is very much here.

Now, how much further will Arya’s vengeance tour take her? Will she bring the blizzard all the way down to King’s Landing, as she tells the Lannister soldiers in this episode? Will she decide that it’s time for a proper family reunion, and instead head north toward her siblings at Winterfell? Only six more episodes this year and twelve installments overall left to find out.

Watch the video below for more on the great battles still to come.

Follow THR.com/GameOfThrones for more deep dives, news, interviews and theories all season long.

Game of Thrones

#Answered #Game #Iconic #Moment #Premiere #Shows #Thrones

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pixelatedflood · 7 years ago

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Why Fulbright Matters: A Subjective Account of Randomly Consistent Facts

Being the good old procrastinating developer who has 10 million ideas none of which is finished and most of which are not even started, I’ve been trying to write an article about the Fulbright program, my experience as a Fulbright scholar so far and some thoughts about its value. But a chance never came I was busy fighting code bugs with a laser saber it was simply a headache to try to summarize such an intense experience in one article without making it a long boring “yet another PR piece”.

Recently however, news came that the Trump administration is planning a huge budget cut to the Fulbright program. This made the idea for this article resurface in my mind and start to take shape.

As I’m writing this, I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park in NYC. A big deal for a Pittsburgh resident, right? The contrast between the old-looking trees, wild rocky shady green surfaces and the skyscrapers in the background is haunting.

To be honest, I don’t have a particular affection for big cities. New York is different, in a way that still puzzles me. I mean this is still the same place where Leonardo Di Caprio lead a ferocious knives-and-teeth battle and murdered the psychopath butcher and his lackeys! This is also where theater, late shows and musicals blossom! And yet it’s also the home of the monstrous Wall Street and its Charging Bull, with people lining up to touch its scrotum and wish for money. New York City is weird. Delicious Pizza and ground smoke. NYC public library, the very edge of sophistication, and huge advertising screens and billboards. It’s unclassifiable, a big mass of everything American and non-American. A shake of protein and carbs with a touch of animal lard, something awe-inspiring yet aggressively bold for the sensitivities of a quiet-loving OCD-stricken guy like me.

I used to roll my eyes whenever that moment comes in a Hollywood movie where someone says “The U-S of A, greatest country in the world”. Other than the fact that Tunisia is that for me, and that I associate chauvinism with other -isms that aren’t that nice, I used to think from the outside looking in: what’s the big deal? Okay so the US is living its historical prime, but so did many empires that eventually declined, and people should be aware of that cycle and should therefore stay humble and skeptical about such statements.

9 months in, I started to see why people say that and feel that way. I mean yeah, we could drown into the liberal discussion of “they don’t know anything else, they haven’t seen the world, so it’s an illusion”, etc. but I still realize why someone would say that more than I did in the past. It’s not about the numbers, nor is it about the good life (well, that depends actually, like CMU software engineers like to assert all the time about everything). Some kind of magic is in the work, to make this place the Eldorado of the world. Obviously, I’m not speaking out of some knowledge in sociology or any other -ology, really. It’s personal experience, from a guy who lived in different countries, so take it as you will: but it is nothing more than my personal sincere experience, if that has any value.

I personally believe it’s about people, what their interactions are creating and the general proliferation of passion in the nature of people here. For a 200-some-year-old country, the US has way more history and stories than that number indicates. It hosts a uniquely amazing mix of cultures and ways of life. And as much as that sounds cliché, I have experienced it first hand and can assert it now with more certainty than ever. Diversity in people, cultures and origins makes this place the miniature world it is. The best - and worst - of everywhere in the world is represented here, and is constantly brewing and boiling, accelerating processes that evolve slower in isolated cultural and social sandboxes in the rest of the world. The greatest country in the world is actually the focal point of summation of humanity’s experiences and drive to produce the new, the unpredictable and the awe-inspiring.

***

What’s the Fulbright program? To spare you the Wikipedia search, it is a program financed by the US Department of State and other organizations to sponsor academic exchange from and to the US. I, personally, am a grantee of the Foreign Fulbright program, which sponsors international students like myself to come to the US and pursue Master and PhD degrees in domains across the spectrum, and sponsors US students to do an academic exchange abroad with the same rationale of learning about the other, and bringing back new ties and knowledge to one’s society. Why does it matter? Why is it important to keep financing it and supporting its long-established legacy? Well, I offer two reasons.

***

The first reason is extremely subjective in that it stems from my own personal experience, and only from that. The Fulbright program saw something in me, and offered me, a 27-year-old software developer with international experience and big dreams, the opportunity to come to the US seeking knowledge from Carnegie Mellon University (my literal reply to the grant offer email from Amideast’s Matthew was: “Thank you for what is the most awesome news I received in my life!”, and I’m married, ladies and gentlemen, so I’m probably going to get questioned about that after this article goes public, so wish me inspiration for evasive answers), as well as the opportunity to come get a taste of that constant summation of the human experience fueled by passion for the better, in a big boiling magic potion that makes this country “the greatest country in the world”. I mean sure, it’s phrased in more sensible terms on the Fulbright website, but that’s my own version of it. I wanted to know what makes US universities the best in the world? What makes the US the birthplace of most of what matters in software engineering and technology in general? Why do people succeed here when they can’t do it elsewhere? What does the US provide that the rest of the world does not?

Being given that opportunity, and seeing its initially reputation-backed importance become more and more clear in practical personal experiences as days go by makes me reflect that I owe this country a big debt for irreversibly transforming my views on how humanity works and evolves. I know more now. I learned, I worked, I interacted, I befriended, I went around, I observed people, organizations and systems, I unconsciously internalized social and economic mechanisms and I answered most of the questions I came with to this country.

And for that, I owe the Fulbright program and the United States a big debt that transformed me to a friend and an ally of the people that made this happen: the Fulbright program, Amideast, Carnegie Mellon University (more specifically my beloved Institute of Software Research faculty, staff and friends) and more broadly the American people who supported the Fulbright Program and made it all possible for me and for thousands of people like me. I also assume I’m not a unique case when it comes to this feeling. In a Fulbright graduate, a small community in the US, as well as the country itself have a new ally and friend.

***

The second reason comes to answer the question of: “So what? New friends and allies, big deal! That’s a lot of money to make new friends! Why are we paying for this?”. As you can see I’m not a fan of sugar-coating, and I would legitimately ask myself the same question if my country, Tunisia, was spending on a program like the Fulbright Program.

I will make this more fun: I actually got to know new amazing fellow bright fools (Fulbright, get it?), and I think that in their stories, comes the answer to that question, because not only are they now friends and allies, but I firmly believe that they are the kind of friends and allies any country would love to have.

Let me start with the Pittsburghers!

Cecilia, Jebrane and I first met at the Fulbright Gateway event in Boston (Suffolk University, August 1st to August 5th 2016). We were the three Pittsburghers of the group, and as soon as we settled in Pittsburgh, we kept in touch.

Jebrane is a Moroccan national, “maghriiiibi” (obvious emphasis on the series of “i”s, that’s how Moroccans say they’re Moroccan) who was sponsored by the Foreign Fulbright Program to pursue a Master in International Political Economy at the University of Pittsburgh. For a boy of his age (I’m 28 and he’s 24, so I get to call him a boy to compensate for his overwhelming knowledge whenever we start a political/economic discussion), he is exceptionally well-read and composed when analyzing economic, political and social phenomena. I enjoyed meeting him on a weekly basis to hang out and discuss big ideas, and was always fascinated by his culture and intelligence. His personal history is full of initiatives where he put his strong character and exceptional wits to work in order to establish partnerships across the Mediterranean, managing events, contributing to academic seminars as an undergrad, etc.

Cecilia (pronounce “tchetchiiilia”, but not like Super Mario’s voice, NO) is from Italy (hence the Super Mario voice reflex I suspect). She is a smart young lady, passionate about architecture and design, and is completing her Architect knowledge with a Computational Design Master degree at CMU. Her team recently won the first prize of the HP-Intel NASA Design Challenge "Life in Space" “for creating a wearable exercise system for astronauts that relieves muscle atrophy in microgravity”. Big brainy stuff, but more than anything: an ingenious eye for opportunity, a realistic and elegant solution with high impact. If you look at her Linkedin profile, you quickly realize this distinction is not actually an exception: she has an impressive track record of winning and excelling.

Now for the Tunisians!

Seif is my long time friend since my undergrad days in ENSIT, University of Tunis. Seif is a fun person, very smart and talented in entrepreneurship and management. I worked with Seif in different student activities during undergrad, where he and I as well as our legendary gang did so much volunteer work and achieved so much together. Seif is now sponsored by the Foreign Fulbright Program to pursue a Master in Technology Management at the University of Bridgeport. He won “the coveted Best Venture Enterprise Award at the 20th fall Connecticut Business Plan Competition for scholar-entrepreneurs” (http://news.bridgeport.edu/news-releases/ub-student-entrepreneur-wins-ct-business-plan-competition/), rewarding the great potential that I have always seen in him.

Narimane, or Nari like Americans like to call her, is one of those people about whom you discover amazing things little by little. Today we actually met during her lunch break and took the above selfie, and I learned that she grew up in Saudi Arabia, surrounded by Egyptian and Lebanese nationals, studying in a French school, returning to Tunisia at age 14 to integrate into her home country for the first time and to join its educational system, which is a tremendous challenge she successfully completed. She later joined INSAT (one of Tunisia’s best engineering schools) to graduate as a biology engineer, then working in healthcare management, now pursuing an MBA at William and Mary, and interning this summer at CBRE (leader in real estate) in New York City doing real work instead of dummy intern tasks. And there’s a reason for that, she knows her stuff. Changing specialties or rather application domains never stopped her from adapting quickly, learning and making impressive progress each time. It shows on her CV, it shows when you talk to her, in her people skills and in her exceptional intelligence.

I also met amazing US Fulbright grantees in San Francisco, who did an academic exchange outside the US. Stories such as the observation of difficulties in teaching medicine in third world countries and deciding to launch a startup to create the largest library of annotated medical imagery in the world, or being inspired by Tunisian traditional craft of “fouta” to create a startup which shares the charm of those products in the US are what happens when US nationals are sponsored to go on an academic exchange elsewhere an bring back new ideas and inspiration to add to the United State’s magic potion of diversity.

There’s a pattern here, recognized around the world beyond my personal experience: Fulbright grantees are exceptional people with amazing potential, tremendous ambition, and unique talents.

I could really go on, but the article is already too long. The gist of it is this: the Fulbright program benefits the US by supporting people like Jebrane, Cecilia, Seif and Narimane, people who will someday achieve great things. Fulbright grantees are selected among thousands and thousands of candidates, and are people with exceptional potential to achieve great things in the future. Fulbright involves them with US-based universities and communities, Fulbright makes of them partners for the future, the US gains allies all around the world, thousands of Jebranes, Cecilias, Seifs and Narimanes. That is a gain which cannot be quantified with money, and the Fulbright Program is probably the best performing academic exchange program in terms of achieving these goals, simply through its sheer scale, hence its prestigious reputation and very notable alumni. (US Fulbright, Foreign Fulbright)

The Fulbright Program is the ingenious product of that unique US magic potion: senator J. William Fulbright got the idea, fought for it, successfully implemented it, and since then, the US gained an incomparable edge in terms of international networking thanks to the dynamic of partnership and mutual understanding this program created.

That is why the Fulbright Program is worth it. That is why I hope the US keeps funding it even if I’m finishing my program this August: it is one of those rare experiences working towards improving the United States’ and the world’s condition, and I deeply hope it does not get killed by a temporary self-isolating political impulse.

***

The Fulbright program is now threatened by a budget cut that would incapacitate it and gradually destroy it if budget cuts like the one suggested become a habit.

So to you American reader, and to you international reader: save Fulbright.

#fulbright #fulbright scholar #budget2017 #trump budget #budget cut #cultural understanding #strategic networking #scholarship

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krissysbookshelf · 8 years ago

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Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek Of: Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia!

Eighteen-year-old Eliza Mirk is the anonymous creator of Monstrous Sea, a wildly popular webcomic, but when a new boy at school tempts her to live a life offline, everything she's worked for begins to crumble.

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Prologue

Eliza Mirk is the kind of name you give to the creepy girl who clings to her ex-boyfriend for weeks after he’s dumped her because she refuses to accept that he hates her guts. Eliza Mirk is a low-level villain with a secret hideout in the sewers. Eliza Mirk belongs in a comic book.

But Eliza Mirk is me. I don’t think I’m desperate or deluded enough to hang on to an ex-boyfriend after he’s broken up with me, I wouldn’t go near a sewer with a ten-foot pole, and unfortunately I do not live in a comic book. I do live kind of a comic-book life, though, I guess.

I go to school during the day, and at night I cast off my secret identity to become LadyConstellation, creator of one of the internet’s most popular webcomics, Monstrous Sea, and fearless mother of a fandom. My superpower is the ability to draw for hours without realizing what time it is or that I haven’t eaten in too long. I succeed in disappearing in my disguise, and I excel at standing out in my true form.

Why LadyConstellation? you may ask.

Because, I reply, my favorite culture in Monstrous Sea comes from a people who have stars in their blood. These people— Nocturnians—instinctively chart stars. That is their calling in life. That is what they feel they must do, as I feel I must tell their story.

LadyConstellation is the one charting this story, drawing lines between plots and characters and places like the Nocturnians draw connections between stars. She is fearless, like the Nocturnians; she is mysterious and aloof, like the Nocturnians; and like the Nocturnians, she believes in the mystical, the supernatural, and the unknown.

LadyConstellation is the hero who defeats Eliza Mirk once a week and celebrates with her many admiring fans. She is beloved by all, even the villain, because without her the villain wouldn’t exist.

I am LadyConstellation.

I am also Eliza Mirk.

This is the paradox that can never be solved.

Chapter 1

The origin post is open on my computer when I shuffle over to it in the morning. Overnight, another three hundred comments have cropped up. I don’t know what they say anymore—I haven’t checked in months. I know some are from fans. A lot are from trolls. I don’t look at the post for the comments. I look because it is my daily reminder that all of this—all of my life—is a real thing.

My beginning is time-stamped in history.

I smooth down my tangle of hair, yawn, and rub sleep from my eyes. When I blink, the post is still there, sitting happy near the top of the Masterminds subforum for webcomics.You’d think, after two years, it would have fallen. It hasn’t.

I close the browser before I betray my own rules. I do not read comments. Comments are explosives for mental walls, and right now I need those walls up. I open Photoshop to find the file I was working on last night, a half-finished page from Monstrous Sea. All the line work is done. I started on the colors but didn’t finish, and I still need to add the text. Still, I’m ahead of schedule. This will be a whole chapter kind of week. My minimum for each week is one page; usually I average three. I always have something to post.

I skim over the comic page, skipping from panel to panel, double-checking the characters and settings. I lay out the rest of the colors in my head, then the light sources and the shadows. The text. The flow of the action looks okay, but in the bottom panel I drew Amity’s nose too narrow again. It’s always noticeable in close-ups of her face, and it’s always her nose. I’ll have to fix it later. I don’t have time now.

Like it agrees with me, my alarm clock goes off, and I jump. Even when I know it’s coming, even when I’m staring right at the thing. I shuffle back to the other side of the room to hit the button before it wakes up Church and Sully in the next room. Stupid middle schoolers get to sleep in an extra half hour, and they think they’re kings.

Mom already has two hard-boiled eggs and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice ready for me when I get downstairs. I don’t know when she hard-boiled those eggs. She certainly didn’t do it last night, and it’s the crack of dawn now. She sits at the island counter in her running outfit with her bouncy ponytail, reading some health article on her tablet. A few strands of hair are out of place, and water splashes in the shower down the hall. She and Dad are already back from their early morning run. Heinous.

“Morning, hon!” I know in some universe she must be speaking at normal volume, but it is not this universe. “Made you breakfast. Are you feeling okay? You look a little gray.”

I grunt. Morning is the devil’s time. And Mom has told me I “look gray” at least once a week for the past year. I drop onto the island stool in front of the eggs and juice and begin eating. Maybe I should try coffee. Coffee might help. Coffee might also send me into spiraling bouts of depression.

Under Mom’s elbow is today’s issue of the Westcliff Star. I pull it over and turn it around. The front-page headline reads REMINDERS PLACED AT WELLHOUSE TURN. Below that is a picture of the sharp turn in the road past Wellhouse Bridge where wreaths of flowers, ribbons, and toys decorate the ground. That’s local Indiana news for you: they have nothing, so they fill their pages with the reminder that Wellhouse Turn kills more people every year than great white sharks. Also local Indiana news: comparing a turn in the road to a shark.

I finish the first egg. Dad comes out of the back hall smelling like a pack of spearmint gum and wearing slightly different running gear than what he wears when he goes out with Mom, which means these are his work clothes for the day.

“Morning, Eggs!” He stops behind me, puts his hands on my shoulders, and leans down to kiss the top of my head. I grunt at the nickname and stuff egg in my mouth. Hard-boiled heaven. “How’d you sleep?”

I shrug. Is it too much to ask that no one speak to me in the morning? I have just enough energy in my mouth to eat delicious eggs; there’s none left to form words. Not to mention that in twenty minutes I have to get in my car to go to school for seven hours, where I’m sure plenty of talking will happen, whether I like it or not.

Mom distracts Dad with her health article, which is apparently about the benefits of cycling. I tune them out. Read about how the Westcliff High band bus driver fell asleep at the wheel and drove off Wellhouse Turn last summer on their way back from regionals. Chew. Before that it was a guy driving with his son in the winter. Drink juice. And before that, a woman taking her two kids to day care early in the morning. Chew more. A group of drunk teenagers. Finish off the egg. A lone girl who hit the wrong patch of black ice. Finish off the juice. They should put up a barrier to keep people from flying off the turn and down the hill to the river, but no. Without Wellhouse Turn, we have no news.

“Don’t forget, your brothers have their first soccer game this afternoon,” Mom says when I drop off my stool and take my plate and cup to the sink. “They’re really excited, and we all have to be there to support them. Okay?”

I hate it when she says “Okay?” like that. Like she expects me to get angry at her before the words are ever out of her mouth. Always prepared for a fight.

“Yeah,” I say. I can’t muster any more. I return upstairs to my room for my backpack, my sketchbook, and my shoes. I jump up and down a few times in an attempt to get more blood flowing to my brain. Eggs eaten. Energy up. Ready for battle.

I resist the urge to go back to my computer, open up the browser, and check the Monstrous Sea forums. I don’t read comments, and I don’t check the forums before I leave for school. That computer is my rabbit hole; the internet is my wonderland.

I am only allowed to fall into it when it doesn’t matter if I get lost.

Amity had two birth days. The first was the same as anyone’s, and she didn’t remember it. She didn’t spend much time dwelling on the fact that she didn’t remember it, because she had learned years ago that nothing good came of dwelling. The second birth—or the rebirth, depending on what mood she found herself in—she remembered with stunning clarity, and imagined she would for the rest of her life.

Her second birth was the day the Watcher took her as its host.

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