#they already got done SO dirty from concept art to release

[sinsofsinister]

you know when you see a mod and immediately have a gut reaction judgement moment?? bc i had one the other day when i saw a hairless female hrothgar mod.

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

���Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[ethanredotter]

My ideas for Zootopia 2

Ah, Zootopia. It broke the record for the biggest opening weekend for an animated film, went on to be Disney Animation’s third most profitable film ever, became the second highest grossing original film of all time, and was nominated for and won innumerable awards including many for best animated picture, and rightfully so. It introduced us to a beautiful, creative, and lovable world populated by amazing characters, and had a poignant message that was conveyed, in my humble opinion, in the best possible way. I liked it a lot when it first came out, but after recently getting into stuff with a similar concept (Beastars), and being subsequently recommended various fan content on YT (Savage Company, Return to Zootopia), I got back into the film again and absolutely fell in love with it to the point that it’s joined my top three films alongside Coco, and The Land Before Time. 

Which is why I am really, really craving a followup of some kind.

Seriously, of all of Disney Animation’s recent films (or heck, films in general), I feel like this one has the greatest potential for a sequel. The setting oozes creativity from its every pore, has so many nooks and crannies that we didn’t manage to explore in the film, its two main leads were perfect and I really feel still have plenty of room to grow, and there are still so many ideas old and new that can be explored. So far we’ve received a few tie-in books, a hidden object game which is no longer available, a few comics, including a series about stories from Nick and Judy’s childhoods, a very large and intricate land expansion under construction in Shanghai Disneyland and a game starring Nick and Judy in Epcot, and a Disney+ original series focusing on various characters from around the city. All of these are fantastic, but four years after the film’s release, we’ve received no official confirmation of a proper continuation to Nick and Judy’s story like a sequel or TV series, just a few rumors here and there.

We’ll get some kind of proper followup eventually, that’s for sure, but what could it do? What kinds of places could they take us to? What ideas could it explore? What could happen to our leads, and what kinds of new characters could they befriend or combat? Well, I’m gonna give my ideas right here; buckle up, because I have a lot.

The City

Let me start off with the City itself. I mean… It’s marvelous. The architecture, like the Oasis Casino, central station, first precinct, the various neighborhoods. The accommodations like the sprinklers, water tubes, Little Rodentia, and the climate wall! The city of Zootopia is a star in and of itself with just how much care, attention, and creativity was put into its every crevice, and we barely got to see half of what it has to offer, as we only got a proper look at five of its twelve districts. They’ve revealed a few other districts via some maps and books (Meadowlands, Outback Island, Canal District) but there are a bunch of others yet to be revealed, and plenty unexplored.

Let’s start with what could be done with the ones already revealed. The Canal District could accommodate the city’s highly aquatic residents like hippos, otters, muskrats, beavers and manatees, and also be one of the city’s primary trade hubs. In terms of layout, it could be like Venice meets the Mekong Delta on steroids where the citizens live and make their living either in boats, or in buildings whose entrances are right on the water. There could be some walkways for less aquatic animals, but most of the transportation is through the water; either via swimming, or via motorboats, riverboats, jet skis, and ferries. And indeed, this is possibly what they had in mind judging by the concept art of the canals. I hope to see them implement something like this in the future; this stuff is just insanely cool! In terms of infrastructure, alongside the various docks and warehouses, I’m thinking that it could be a place for aquaculture where all manner of freshwater seafood are raised, as well as plenty of touristy stuff like river cruises. Maybe we could have a boat chase here, or perhaps just a relaxing moment between our leads, or maybe both. 

The meadowlands would be a place for more temperate grazers like sheep, horses, bison, and various kinds of deer. It could be akin to a massive park district with plenty of recreation and places to enjoy a bit of fresh air, and its buildings could possibly be like hobbit holes and built into the hills. I’m thinking it could also be a place with a lot of mills to process both food and textiles, and its overall atmosphere could be quite agricultural and country while being in the middle of a city and not having much in the way of crops.

Now on to potential districts

Credit to @florenze​

The one that I and many others have thought of the most is a nocturnal cave district. This would be located beneath the rest of the city, and would, of course, have little to no light in order to accommodate its main inhabitants such as moles, mole rats, and bats. This place could have homes on the ceiling and walls for the bats, with various cranes and elevators for the non-bats to get around both to visit, and do maintenance. I imagine bat homes could be quite atypical compared to other species since they’d likely sleep upside down and crawl on walls a fair bit, and if they need to get anywhere they can just fly, so much like the canals, they might not have much in the way of front yards and instead just have elevators and sheer drops on their front doors. Likewise, the less residential buildings could have entrances at higher floors for the bats as well. Entrances to the district could be drive-in cave mouths, as well as big openings for the bats to just fly straight out of to see the other districts at night.

As an opposite to that, I was thinking that a central mountain district would also be cool to see. This would accommodate mountain sheep and goats, takins, pikas, llamas, as well as snow leopards, brown bears, and other mammals who like high and rocky locales. This place could be even more vertical than the cave district, and require either elevators, stairways, or surefootedness to get around, as well as perhaps some oxygen tanks depending on how high it goes. Therefore, cars would be nowhere to be seen, and if anyone wants to get in, they’ll need to park outside, or better yet just take public transportation to allow room for residents’ vehicles. Buildings could possibly be carved out from the stone, and the overall atmosphere could be a mix of the Himalayas and the Andes, and also a bit of the Rockies and Urals.

Regardless of what districts they show us, I would like to see a few more angles to the city than just a bright and clean middle class. Show off its dirty underbelly too, and I don’t just mean more of the street hustlers and thieves like Nick, Finnick, and Weaselton. The first film did an excellent job of showing us that Zootopia wasn’t some perfect society with its discrimination and criminals, and while we did get a nice glimpse of its dirtier side, I want to see more of the run down neighborhoods and their residents. Heck, maybe make poverty an aspect of the plot and a motivator for the villain. Although, they also could also easily cover it with Nick due to the fact that his family was struggling back in the day. Alongside that, I’d like to see high society too, especially the oasis casino that they really wanted to show off, but couldn't find a way to. Show us just how both lavish and run down this city can be.

New Characters

Of all the things I love the film for, its characters and their arcs are probably the biggest things, especially those of the leads. This film has a very diverse cast from a big old cape buffalo to a tiny little fennec fox, and they’re all quite memorable and fun. Now I know what some of you are thinking, “why are you covering new characters before the old ones”? Mostly because I have fewer ideas, but also because the ideas I have for some of the old characters are quite big.

Firstly, I’d like to talk about Nick’s family, starting with his mother. Yes, Mrs. Wilde is already an established character, but I’m still putting her in here since I want to talk about Nick’s family in the same section, and she’s gotten very little characterization; heck, we don't even know her name. She seems like a very nice and supportive vixen from what we saw from the flashback, there was a tweet from Rich Moore that we can infer a fair bit from, and the end of a comic that showed her being a very nice mother and a massive fan of a rock band made of rabbits. Nick is seemingly an only child since no siblings are mentioned anywhere, and they certainly seemed to be financially struggling at some point since he said that his mom “scraped up” the money for the scout uniform, and in the comics he was always extremely short on money and didn’t even have an allowance. Rich referring to her as “Mrs. Wilde” as opposed to “Ms. Wilde” shows that she was/is married and that the husband was probably Nick’s father. The last line of the tweet highly indicates that she and Nick are in contact and on speaking terms (although it really begs the question of where she was during his graduation as there’s not a fox in sight (although there were plenty of seats out of sight and obscured)), and also potentially hints at, uh… Things we’ll get to later. Unfortunately, we don’t know anything more about her. Did she know about Nick’s bad behavior? Did Nick even tell her about the incident with the scouts? Was she ever estranged from him? I’d like for it to be talked about, preferably with her present. I don’t want her to just show up in a call or something, I want her to actually have a scene with her son, and I’d love for her to meet Judy as well.

At least we know a thing or two about her, but we don’t know a thing about Nick’s father that has been confirmed. In one of the original cuts of the film, Mr. Wilde was a tailor who wanted to start up a company with his son called Wilde and Son’s Suitopia and give his kit the best future he could possibly have. Unfortunately, after many attempts at getting a loan to start it up, Nick tried to stop some lemming bankers from denying their loan by trying to grab the stamp from them, was spotted by a guard, and was forcibly and permanently separated from his dad because the city in that cut was was a horrible place full of horrible prey who thought that predators were nothing but horrible monsters ready to blow at any time to the point that they were forced to wear shock collars that would zap them whenever they got even remotely excited. Seriously, screw this setting, it made Beastars look like a freaking paradise. Anyway, back on track. Nick only mentions his mom, so where is his dad? Again, a fair bit can be inferred from the sources on his mother. The simple fact that he wasn’t mentioned in the flashback or the comics seems to indicate that he was out of their lives at that point in Nick’s childhood. Go figure, fans have gone nuts with the possibilities. I’ve seen depictions of him ranging from dead, to estranged, to a genuinely good dad who’s back in their lives now, and a psychotic criminal mastermind who wants Nick to be his heir… Yeah. Out of all those depictions, the loving father one is my favorite. Sure, Rich didn’t mention him in the tweet, but that could have been a simple omission since the question was about Mrs. Wilde. I’ll be honest, my perfect version of this idea is from the fan comic It Should Have Been Me, in which which his backstory and character is almost exactly what it was in the original cut: he was a fabric worker who moved to Zootopia with his wife and son in order to make it big on a tailor business, as he strongly believed in the ideals of the city and wanted to show Nick what a fox could become. He was repeatedly denied a loan, and eventually his obsession with making the business made his wife leave with Nick. After some time, he finally realized that being a role model was not the same as being a father and returned to them. I adore this interpretation for how it shows a family that struggled to stay together for reasons mostly within their control, but still managed to, and are now seemingly happier than ever, something I can’t recall seeing at all in any of Disney Animation’s films (if you know any examples, please list them), and also the fact that Mr. Wilde is a great, likable, and kind of complex character here who is a good man who just messed up as opposed to a simple deadbeat dad I've often seen him depicted as. I want to see something like this out of his father in an official follow-up, but even if he is still separated from his wife, I’d like to see him, and if he’s dead, still give us something; I want to know who this guy is and where he is now, and if there’s anyone else in the Wilde family, I’d love to meet them too, and I want to know how they feel about Nick turning his life around and bucking expectations and stereotypes. His mother is probably exceedingly proud of him, and his dad probably is too if my preferred version is used. Either way, give us a lovely father, mother and son scene (or just mother and son scene, because you know, she’s the only one confirmed to still be around).

On to the villain! The villain should be as opposite to Bellwether as possible; big, male, predator, and not trying to fool anyone into believing that he’s not the mastermind behind anything. We’ll know, at least partially, who this guy is from the moment he’s introduced and what his motivations are early on. Unlike Bellwether, we’ll dive into his character more and more as the film goes on and see what makes him tick. So, what could he want? The idea I’ve conjured up was that he could be a segregationist extremist who sees the founding principles of Zootopia as foolish, believes that this all mammal society is unsustainable, and that all species should completely separate from each other. Perhaps he just wants to get back at the city that he believes wronged him and/or his kind, or perhaps he wants to go back to the wild square one where it’s every species for themselves, and perhaps he thinks that will genuinely be better for everyone. Regardless, I think that this idea would be an interesting continuation of the first film’s ideas of prejudice and living in peace with your neighbor, where this villain would want to bring down the city because he hates prejudice, wants to bring down what he sees as a hypocritical city, and wants mammals to be better off by being separate and under harm. Also, unlike Bellwether who was a power hungry sociopath, this guy will be far more genuine in his pursuit and see himself as a liberator. But as I said, he could very well just be using it all as an excuse for petty vengeance and lashing out at the world in a spiteful rage.

Despite what I said before, I do think that there should be an air of mystery around him. Since he’ll see himself as a demagogue for all animal’s “liberation”, he could conceal himself in shadows during his broadcasts, and also cover himself from head to toe in feature hiding clothes such as a helmet/mask, and specially designed gloves and shoes that hide what his hands and feet look like in order to not show off what species he is. Basically, he could be a twist on the twist villain; he’ll be all mysterious and some could think that he may be a character that we’ve met, but in reality he’s the same character we’ve known all along. As for what species he could be, I was thinking that he could be a less looked at member of a well known family of animals. My best bet would be a smaller and less predatory species of bear like an American black bear, sloth bear, or a sun bear since we saw so many brown and polar bears in the film, and while he’d be small by bear standards, he’d still be quite large, and heck, maybe they could make him particularly large and scary for his species of bear. Also, since he would be a kind of bear whose protein historically consisted entirely of insects (especially in the case of the latter two), he could have extra reason to be angry with society since his kind never wronged prey (although again not quite the case with American black bears since they will sometimes eat fawns and even fully grown deer), but yet he was lumped in with the brown and polar bears. Of the three species I listed, I think the sloth bear would work the best since their protein entirely consists of insects, but, despite their small size and goofy appearance, they’re one of the most aggressive species of bear and have been known to charge at elephants and rhinos at the drop of a hat, and this could play into his characterization as bear Kratos. I think there could be some hints to his species throughout the story, despite how well he may try to hide it. For instance, American black bears when scared tend to do things such as pulsing and clapping their jaws together, while the south Asian bears tend to rear up and stretch their chests out to expose their white stripe. Perhaps he could unconsciously do things like that when particularly agitated or under pressure.

What exactly could make him want all of this? I was thinking that much like our favorite fox cop, he could have experienced much discrimination throughout his life, only far worse, and been downright spiteful instead of rolling with the punches like Nick did. And again, it could have been more pronounced on him since the discrimination was due to “Sins of the cousins” and his kind had nothing to do with any of what they accused him of. A tipping point could have been the Night Howler Crisis, which could have either personally affected him, or just confirmed his beliefs and made him want to go through with his plans to try and tear Zootopia down, and now, about a year or so after that Crisis, his plans can finally go into motion. As for how he’ll go about things, well, he’d go for the hearts, minds and the infrastructure of the city. Perhaps he could broadcast all over to spread his propaganda and instill doubts in in the population (notably in his fellow preds by reminding them what happened not long ago), and also strike fear in those who oppose him. Other than that, he’ll of course go straight for the city’s infrastructure via sabotage and kidnappings. One victim could be the mayor, who this time could actually be a good person and politician, or, as one official comic showed, Lionheart again… Was this an error, or was he seriously canonically reinstated after the shady crap he got up to!?

Anyway, expanding on the idea of the concealing outfit, I’m thinking that his followers (who I’ll just call The Cell for now) could do the same thing with tail hiders, stilts, and padding which would be especially effective for bigger animals to possibly lean over and look like something shorter and fatter in order to make themselves appear roughly the same as to make themselves not see each other as another species for the duration of this insane operation (it also has the added effect of making them harder to differentiate and track). This will eventually be their downfall for reasons you may have surmised, but I’ll explain that later.

Speaking of more villainous characters, I'd like to see a bit more of the criminal syndicates and mobs throughout the city. I'd like to learn who rules what parts of the city, how far their reach goes, and how they operate. Although, we’ll probably only get a glimpse in the film, but we could see the criminal organizations focused on more in a TV series or official comic book, because I think a film would be about a much larger and complex threat that could change the city and characters as we know them.

What about more heroic characters? Well, perhaps we could see the return of concepts from the original pitch of the film like secret agents. Considering that the villain’s plot could be citywide and insidious, I think it would make sense. It could be cool to see conceptual characters such as Skye developed and implemented, and have them helping our leads with the case (or perhaps they could just be a cameo in a movie theater, I dunno, they had a billion other ideas when conceptualizing). I’d like to see her come back because she seemed like quite an interesting concept of a mechanic and badass secret agent (Also, look at that concept art; she's flipping adorable). Perhaps she could be undercover in The Cell, and Nick and Judy could meet her after being ambushed by them. As they’re driving away, Nick gets shot in the shoulder with a dart, but when they reach safety, he realizes that he’s fine. He pulls the dart out and finds that it’s hollow and clear and has a note inside it. They read the note and it includes an apology and directions to a garage in the meadowlands. Later they go to the address and find a light tan fox working on a car. She introduces herself, apologizes further to Nick for shooting him, and then brings them into a safehouse where she gives them vital info on The Cell, and gives them a number to call her at and a few special signals and monikers to help out.

If I were to describe the character I imagine her having, it would be extremely enthusiastic, friendly, and possibly coming off as a little childish, but also intelligent, savvy, and consummately professional and well trained. Basically, a quintessential bunny ears lawyer.

Some people have wanted her to have some kind of past affiliation with Nick, but I’m not sure. I mean, it would be interesting and a good callback to the cut where she was his sidekick, but in this version him knowing someone who just so happens to also be a secret agent would seem a little odd. Then again, he knows everybody. Maybe she’s that mysterious Lady Friend mentioned by Finnick…? (she is a mechanic after all, and he loves his van).

Other than that, I’d love to see the ZPD itself expanded and characterized a heck of a lot more. Maybe we could actually get to know Nick and Judy’s fellow officers like McHorn, Pennington, and Wolfard, and finally see some actual detectives as opposed to just patrolmen, and also get to see the city’s other precincts. I’d love to see the folks at first precinct all working with and respecting our leads, and for all of their strengths to be shown to the max. As in, I want to see them in full SWAT gear conducting a raid; Bogo and the big boys breaching doors, the wolves and cats on marksman duty, and Nick and Judy doing infiltration.

Returning Characters

Let’s start with everyone’s favorite tiny fox, shall we? Finnick wasn’t in the film all that much and only said a total of 37 words (yes I counted), but despite this, he still left a shockingly large impact on audiences for his in your face attitude and vocal dissonance of being a little fennec fox played by a giant former pro wrestler, Tommy Lister Jr (may he rest in peace). And honestly, I flipping adored him too. The creators also liked him a lot and have featured him extensively in newer material such as Zootopia Crime Files, which had him heavily involved in a case and really managed to flesh out his character and specify what his relationship with Nick was like (which is to say, they are genuinely friends), and he even appears as a playable character in Disney Heroes: Battle Mode, and they have said that they wanted to feature him more in a sequel. So what could he do in a follow up? I’m thinking that he could become a major supporting character. I’d like to see him having some genuine friendly times and conversations with Nick and Judy such as going out to eat with them, and also get them out of some scrapes; perhaps by going nuts on a perp that’s threatening them and/or driving them out of a sticky situation. Perhaps he could also help the investigation by acting like an informant or mole (but as I said, in this cut that could already be taken by someone else). Or perhaps he’s gone or will go relatively straight and operate a totally legitimate ice cream shop instead of running a complex hustle. Perhaps he could also act as a shippe- again something we’ll get to later. I’d also like to learn more about him as a person; did he get into the hustling life because of some kind of discrimination like Nick, or is he just a roughhouser who genuinely likes what he does and wouldn’t have it any other way? Who’s this lady friend he mentions? Does he harbor any resentment for Nick for getting off the street and into the force? Obviously it’s not too strong if he’s still giving him Pawpcicles and interacting with him in a cordial way, but is there any there? I’d really like to see. Also, what's his real name? The directors said that Finnick isn't his real name, so what is it? Maybe tell us, maybe don't. As for who could replace Zeus, I’m thinking Kevin Michael Richardson. Whoever they get, I hope he does him justice.

Leave Bellwether out of this; she's served her purpose.

I wouldn’t be mad at seeing Mr. Big return, but I don’t really have any ideas for him. That said, I think that Fru-Fru could be a nice inclusion as a good friend of Judy. Perhaps Judy could hang out with her and do a few things like a little bit of Godmothering for the little shrew bearing her name.

Flash… If he shows up at all, make it a minor appearance, maybe even a cameo.

Bogo was technically the tritagonist of the last film, and I’d like him to remain in a prominent role. I loved his character and evolution in the last film; he starts off barely giving Judy the time of day and repeatedly gets really pissed off at her antics, and also blows off Nick on the simple basis of him being a fox. But he’s an extremely principled and just fellow, and in my opinion, an example of what a good police chief should be, especially since he gets over his prejudices and comes to respect our leads as much as his other officers (which is to say, a LOT). And it’s that respect that I really want to see in a follow up. I want him to send Nick and Judy out on important missions, I want him to trust them with their conduct and intel, and most of all, I want him to protect them and treat them like valuable members of the force. For instance we could see him chew out another officer for talking badly of them, and also risk his life to keep them alive. Speaking of, I also want to see him in action, not just in his office playing with apps (although I certainly wouldn’t complain if we saw him messing around) or showing up after the fact to arrest a perp; I want to see this big bull kicking tail and taking names. Again that prospective swat raid. Other than that, I’d like to learn a bit more about him as a person outside his job, and maybe get a full name.

Benjamin Clawhauser… I don’t have much in the way of new ideas for him other than seeing him interact with Nick. I and many others think that the two of them would be great friends with some awesome banter (and in the Tame Collar cut he was supposed to be one of Nick’s employees at Wilde Times, so they’ve got some of their dynamic figured out already). If I were to imagine Nick's nickname (or I guess we could say Nick Name) for him, it may be Chomps. Other than that, for the third time, flesh him and his backstory out a bit more; he’s a likable guy and I’d like to know more about him. I also absolutely think that he’d be yet another shi- Oh yeah, the main characters!

Nick and Judy

And finally, the part that I’ve wanted to talk about the most; Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps. These two are incredible. I know I’ve already gushed about every last little thing this film has done even remotely right, but these two are genuinely just plain perfection. They’re my favorite cinematic duo ever, and some of my favorite fictional characters ever. Their dynamic, their chemistry, their dedication and adoration of each other, the way they grow because of each other, it’s all just wonderful. If you want more details as to why they’re so wonderful (especially together), check out @beastars-takes​ post on their relationship and why it’s so darn awesome; there is not an off word in there, offers a lot of insight into the hidden depths that you may not have noticed, and helped me understand these two and the film all the better and gave me the intense love I have for it. Buckle up, these two are the longest part of the essay, because they were the best and biggest part of the movie, and thus I’ve got the most to say.

Honestly, my favorite parts with them were in the last 20 minutes of the film where they are just a perfect buddy cop duo (and ironically enough, weren’t even cops at this point) who clearly had an unbelievable amount of love for each other and even faith in each other while kicking serious butt, and seeing Nick give off that extremely genuine smile upon finally being able to live up to the oath he made as a kid at his graduation was absolutely heartwarming. I want to see more of THIS duo in the next film; a duo of true companions absolutely brimming with charm and endearment who you want to be on screen as much as possible. These two had such good chemistry by the end of the film that many people wondered whether there was something more between them than mere friendship. Were they… Romantically involved? If not, should they be in the future? Many people have been against this idea because they either don’t interpret their relationship that way, and/or they feel that a romance would be cliched and/or forced. What’s my opinion on this whole thing? We’ll get to that soon, for now, let's talk about character focus and development!

I think that Nick should be in the protagonist seat this time, and Judy should be switched to deuteragonist, although she’ll be more in focus than Nick was last time. I want to see how Nick feels about his new life as an officer, his past and connections, his home (does he live in a leaky pipe ridden apartment and sleep in a drawer like in this concept art, or does he live in a better place?), him kicking but with his new training, and as said previously, his family. I want to see him being truly happy and fulfilled for the first time in his adult life, and how it affects him. I want to see the full weight of everything that he’s gained and will continue to have at the forefront of his story arc, and likewise with Judy. I want to see him open up to people more, and I want to see him continue to prove to the world that a fox can be more than a shyster, and heck, maybe he and Judy are becoming something of celebrities from their adventures and maybe the two of them are using their status to help their communities in ways other than police work. Maybe the two of them will visit schools, more run down neighborhoods and communities of stereotyped animals to tell their story and show them what they can become if they believe in themselves and in others. I also want a big emotional scene from him, or at least an adult big emotional scene. While we did see plenty of big emotional scenes from him and certainly saw the depths of what he’s been through, it was Judy who really brought out the most emotion. This time around, I want to see Nick carry the most emotional scene, tears and all. My choice would be him realizing the weight of what he has gained and how much he doesn’t want to lose it. For instance, perhaps they could have a party at the station in honor of their promotions (I'd guess detective given their skill sets) with him, his fellow officers, his parents, and even his and her civilian friends such as Finnick. He’ll sit down next to Judy and his folks with a plate and a cup, and they’ll start conversing. Suddenly, officer McHorn comes up and commends him and Judy for their great work in their short time on the force, and how they deserve to be detectives after all the cases big and small that they've solved. Nick will look at him with a smile as he’s talking, and then notice something: all of the most important people in his world are right there in that room, and each and every one loves, respects, and appreciates him. His parents, his friends, and most importantly his brothers in arms, and especially the one who brought him into the fold and changed his life forever. The realization that he’s achieved the camaraderie he wanted and fulfilled the promise he made in his youth, how he's made people see him for who he is and not what he is, and how whole his life has become from this job and how it will get even better from this promotion hit him like a train and he starts shedding tears. His parents, Judy and McHorn notice. He tries to play it off initially, but he realizes that he has nothing to hide anymore and explains everything. McHorn says he really meant what he said and that he’s an integral part of the PD, and Judy and his folks begin comforting him and eventually Judy says “Oh you foxes, you're so emotional”. Nick gets a big smile on his face and gives her a tight hug, and then chooses to get up on a table and say a big speech of thanks and cheers to his family, friends, his fellow officers, and especially to the greatest gal he’s ever known.

Speaking of the sly bunny, I want to see how the events of the last film have affected her and have shaped her into a wiser person and more effective officer. Much like with Nick, I want to see her continue to buck other’s expectations of her and prove that rabbits can be far more than just meek farmers. I want to see her grow even more street smart, wise, and a better problem solver from seeing all that Zootopia has to offer and from her proximity with Nick. I want her to see more of the world’s complicated problems and for her to start to understand the bad parts of it even more, but at the same time continuing to see plenty of good as well (sometimes, a bit of both). Also, there’s a lot of Zootopia as a city that she still hasn’t seen; species, districts, holidays, you name it. I want a big part of her story to also be her experiencing everything the city has to offer, preferably with Nick at her side, and the wonder on her face. That said, I want the wonder to be shared. I want to see Nick enjoying this city like never before since he can look at it in a whole new light, and do so with the one who made it all possible. And likewise, Judy would feel the same in regards to being able to explore it with the one who changed her for the better, helped her keep her career, learn more about herself, and has continued to be there for her. And again like Nick, I want her to really feel what she’s gained: a great career, comrades who respect her, the ability to help others, and fulfillment of the dream she’s wanted since childhood, and an amazing partner who helped her achieve it all and got all the same things because of her.

And all that of course brings us to the big question. How should their relationship evolve? Well, uh…  I think… You see, I… I uh… Well...

This is on the bookshelf in my room

And this is one of my most viewed images on furaffinity (credit to RelaxableFur)

Of important note; I’m not someone who casually ships characters. I may consider the idea of them being a couple when they’re together on screen and have good chemistry, but I’m never like “Oh my god, they need to get together!” (in fact, I was neutral about the idea of WildeHopps until last year when I dived back into the movie), and I’m especially not one of those people who ships characters who obviously have no chance in hell of being romantically involved. I only really get on a ship if I think there’s a strong precedent for it in terms of character plausibility and storytelling potential (and it also helps if they’re absolutely adorable on screen). And in the case of these two, I absolutely think that they hit all three categories.

Now, let’s get into details. Do I think they’re just friends at the end of the film? Not necessarily. Do I think they’re romantically involved? Again, not necessarily. I think their relationship is complicated. As I said, they trust, respect, and care for each other to such an incredible degree that they were willing to do THIS all for the sake of milking the scene and keeping up appearances to keep the bad guy talking (and as you may or may not have noticed, Judy’s nose didn’t move even a bit during the entire act until Nick was right on top of her, whereas before at even the slightest sign of distress it would twitch like crazy), and then just casually laugh about the whole thing while holding each other. Speaking of which, they are clearly very comfortable with physical contact; Judy comforts Nick with some arm caresses

Nick let Judy cry into him and wrapped his tail around her when making up (how else would she step on it)

The two of them share the aforementioned very nice embrace when gloating to Bellwether (yes, Judy had a wounded leg, but the way they’re holding each other and how comfortable they are indicates way more than just physical support)

And there was also this part in the concert… 

Y’all thought that was just a hip check, didn’t you!? 

There’s also the fact that, while it’s obviously a rather playful exchange,  they just casually threw the big, big L out there in their last conversation, and not only that, but the whole thing is delivered in a kind of longing fashion, and depending on the translation the wording gets either more or less explicitly romantic.

As myself and Beastars Takes have stated, they are perfect kindred spirits who have irrevocably changed each other’s lives for the better, and they believed in each other when no one else would. For those reasons they have grown closer to each other than anyone else and can’t get enough of each other. They made each other’s dreams come true, they’re the greatest things that have happened to each other, and they will continue to be so, especially now that they’re together nearly every day of the year since they’re now on the job together. To me, that’s not a will they get together, that’s a when will they get together, and I’d find it more forced if they didn’t become an item (unless their sexualities don’t match, but I doubt that, because again all of their dialogue and physical closeness) 

And this officially licensed merch…

And these park character interactions.

And honestly, I think that many mammals will probably think the same way. As I almost said throughout, I think plenty of folks like Clawhauser and Finnick will see the spark between them and be Shippers on Deck. I could imagine Finnick teasing their obvious affection for each other, and Clawhauser could just be his usual self and just make little squees and mental notes whenever he sees them interacting, and there could be a few rumors about them floating around the PD.

So how should their romance develop, and how should their couple dynamic be? Subtly, and not too much of a change from how they already are, respectively. As I said, these two already think the world of and can’t get enough of each other, and I really think that there’s already a romantic spark between them that they just need to think through and expose. I give them half a year on the force before they’re all over each other, a year at most. I don’t think that they’ll even have to make any real confession of love to each other, I think they’ll just have to have the right moment to properly figure out that their relationship already is romantic and/or that it really would be able to work out between them, and actually cement it right there and then. That said, don’t drag the hookup out. Don’t have their entire arc be about them getting together. Don’t have them magically be together at the start of the story, but certainly don’t drag for the whole time. Give us time for them to be the slightly better than best friends we saw at the end of the last film while building up some extra tension, and then have them properly hook up in the second act. But as I said, their dynamic shouldn’t change too much. Again, it’d be more of a realization than a decision since they already have an unbelievably high opinion of and affection towards each other (and they seemingly already know that there’s something between them), and it’d be an enhancement of what they already have as opposed to a change; they’ll continue to be the best friends that they’ve been, just with an extra openly romantic component. Have them be even more willing to show affection both physical (hand holding, cuddling, and kissing) and verbal (more flirtation, and some I love yous). I want this romance to be sweet and unique with a lot more friendly banter, discussion and enjoying more platonic fun stuff (like playing games and joking together), and way less lubby dubby crap. I want their trust and love and respect for each other to be extremely apparent; continue to have it be clear that they think the world of each other and show the reasons for it, and don’t have them be too doting, or at least not that often. That said, absolutely feature some powerful romantic moments like a little dance, or the hookup stated before.

As I said before, I also really get on to a ship if I believe that it can add to the story, and in this case, I really do think it can. I think that their relationship could bring up and/or amplify a lot of strong themes that would complement the first film’s message perfectly. For instance, friendship, love and family not knowing the boundaries of species.

Now, it’s clear that interspecies relationships and marriages are a thing in this city: the directors talked a bit about how society could see their relationship and how Zootopia is probably open to the idea; the first couple that Judy meets in Zootopia are her neighbors Bucky and Pronk Oryx-Antlerson, who are a greater kudu and a gemsbok (they’re also same sex, so that indicates even more societal openness)

There was also an official comic about Flash trying to ask Priscilla out on a date to a movie, but he was too slow and lost out to a Hyena, so that indicates that even predator-prey relationships aren’t widely looked down upon. 

However, as the first film showed, Zootopia’s not a perfect society, so they absolutely could receive some nasty stares and insults in the city, and Bunnyburrow Seems to be less open on the whole. Yes, I’m bringing up the ever so popular “Nick meets Judy’s parents after their hookup” idea that hundreds of people have written stories about, but I genuinely think it’s a fun idea, and I’d like to see their reaction to Nick if he’s romantically involved with their daughter, and Nick trying to get used to country life and bonding with a new family. We saw in the last film that Bonnie and Stu are opening up to foxes, and I would imagine that they met Nick around the time of the concert in the credits, but how could they feel about their daughter being with a non-bunny? That could be a fantastic storyline to cover, and it could be a fantastic way to explore that theme of interspecies bonds, and also of families being built on love. That being said, them visiting Bunnyburrow (AKA my hometown in upstate NY: we seem to have an infestation of rabbits here), would be best for a TV series arc or a comic as opposed to a theatrical release, but they could still have the Hopps family visit Zootopia in the film and have many similar things go down. Another scenario could be from Nick’s family. Remember what Rich said about his mother waiting for a grandkit? Does this mean that she actually wants him to continue the family line, or does it mean that she just wants another little tyke to help raise? Either way, she could be an interesting addition to this idea since the creators have specified that they normally fall back on what is scientifically plausible for the film, meaning that Nick and Judy probably wouldn't be able to conceive a child, so they could introduce some hesitance or vice versa into the story through her.

With my previous villain idea, the theme of bonds beyond species could come up quite often. Nick and Judy could become targets of The Cell from the beginning for their friendship, but they could perhaps become more of targets once it becomes clearer to The Cell that they may be more (and because they’re likely foiling their plans). If the villain actually saw proof up close that they were together, he could absolutely lose it and just try to tear them limb from limb. But of course, their bond could also be used to their advantage alongside the villains’ hypocrisy and foolishness. For instance, in a final confrontation. Here’s my prospective scene: Nick, Judy and possibly other characters are surrounded by Cell members who are armed to the teeth and pointing all they have right at them. Everyone in the room is weary from all that’s happened over the course of the film, and are hesitant to start fighting again. Then, Nick speaks up and asks The Cell why they’re still fighting. He brings up the fact that they’re all fighting for the downfall of Zootopia and the separation of all species since they believe that animals only see each other for what they are and are cruel because of it, and that they’re going as far as to hide their species from their comrades to not see each other as separate, but only until the job is done, and then they'll go their separate ways. Of course, why should they see each other as one only for now? They’ve all bonded and seen each other as comrades all this time while not knowing each other’s species; why should knowing what they are be any different? This would result in some taking the plunge and removing their helmets, which would then result in the others seeing what they are. Our leads would tell them that they have not known each other's species this long and yet they’ve bonded together as brothers in arms; why would they want to break that because of stupid differences, and why would they want to use those differences to separate themselves? Some folks can tear and digest meat, some can clip and digest grass; what difference should that make? If they want things to be better, then they must be better, and show those who hate them that things can be better (and for extra effect, Nick and Judy could show off the bond that they’ve gained despite being not just two different species, but predator and prey). One member throws his mask out, then another, and another. More and more continue to throw away their masks and even suits, either because they were convinced or because they see the cause as hopeless, and within a minute the floor is littered with masks and discarded body suits, and the members of the once mighty Cell walk out of the room, many with their arms around one another, and some holding hands, and soon it’s just the leader and the officers alone.

Conclusion

So those were my ideas for a Zootopia sequel. To recap, I want to see even more of the city’s districts and more of its socio-economic angles. I want to see new characters both brand new and from old drafts, and I want an interesting and fresh villain who we can gain a bit of sympathy for. I want to see all of our favorite supporting characters from the first film continue to be great and have expanded roles. And above all, I want our leads to continue to grow themselves and their bond into something even more wonderful. I want to see Nick grow as a person and officer, and I want to see Judy grow alongside him. I want to see Nick’s family and connections, I want how his new life is affecting him, and I want to see him open up emotionally with himself and with those he loves, and I want Judy to continue to grow wiser about the world and everything ugly and beautiful about it, and how being on the force, and with the one she cares about most no less, shapes her into an even more effective problem solver.

So when could we see a sequel? Well, we may have to wait a while longer. While it’s very clear that the franchise isn’t dead, we’ve heard absolutely nothing official on a sequel, and current events at Disney Animation Studios are making it seem like we may have to wait more for one to come. The director and mastermind behind the film, Byron Howard, and the co-director and screenwriter, Jared Bush, are currently working on a musical film currently called Encanto which is set to release in November. Why did they do this instead of going straight for Zootopia 2? Rich Moore, the other head director, had to scramble back to work on Ralph Breaks The Internet after leaving it for a year and a half, and that pretty much left the team in pieces. Considering how much he seemed to want to be a part of the development of a sequel and how they said that they didn’t want to rush it, the other guys seem to have started Encanto to do something new while Rich was busy, and of course shake up their creative juices. However, Rich left the studio in 2019 to join Sony Animation, although he said he left the studio in good hands, and I certainly hope that’s true. Considering that Disney tends to announce films around two years before release, and also tends to have directors work on films released two years apart, 2023 seems like a likely release year, but 2024 would work better for getting a bit more development time into it, get some test screening done and to iron out any possible issues. 

That said, the extra year may not be totally necessary. Considering how well developed the first film’s world and characters were, and how much they conceptualized during its production, I don’t think they’ll have to conceptualize quite as hard, and most of what they’ll have to create from scratch will be storylines, themes, character development, and brand new characters, as well as possibly a few districts and species designs. But again, there was so much that they have already made that they just need to show us, as well as so many concepts to fall back on with developing brand new content that even in the conceptual stage that it may have be in they’ll have a relatively easy time coming up with incredible new content; unlike Frozen II & Ralph Breaks the Internet where they had to make up totally new locations, concepts, and everything in between. I’m of the opinion that with all the time that it’s likely been in partial production that the relatively little new stuff that they've had to come up with has probably already been quite refined, and by the time Encanto is done, they may well have something extremely robust and just need to refine it, and then make models and animate it, and give us Disney Animation's best sequel ever. But then again, that extra year may be good for it. But then again, I'm not a filmmaker, so I don't know crap.

And after that, we could end up getting a TV series with further adventures of Nick and Judy, and also flesh out the world even more by showing us districts, criminal groups, precincts, and all manner of other things. Perhaps it could be a police procedural with our leads taking on whatever the city has to offer as well as de  showing off more about them and other characters than the films could, and also potentially be a bit of a Segway into the next film (why yes, I think a Zootopia trilogy could be amazing). Thankfully the majority of the cast is made up of accomplished TV actors, so they’ll probably be able to get almost everyone back (but I am hoping for Jason Bateman the most since he IS Nick Wilde and no one can replace him (the same applies to Ginnifer Goodwin with Judy to a very slightly lesser extent)). My hope is that it'll be a D+ original, and thus have an extra good budget that'll hopefully bring in a great cast, and excellent animation and writing.

But anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed my ideas. Was there anything you'd like to add, or anything you didn't quite agree with (or any mistakes I didn't notice while proofreading)? Well then please do discuss them. Until next time, may your battles be won and your day be blessed, and may you be excellent to all those you meet! 

[centrally-unplanned]

Allocating Your Aesthetic Budget: Sailor Moon Edition

Sailor Moon is a show that undoubtedly built a powerhouse of a visual brand. Should I even bother posting a screenshot of the sailor scouts, given that I am 100% confident anyone reading this can recall them instantly? I guess it won’t hurt: 

Anime is often really good at creating iconic designs like this, through repetition of the visuals. It is awkward in live action shows if characters just wear the same outfit every scene (what, they only own one outfit? Are they homeless/work in the tech industry?), but animation gives us enough aesthetic “distance”, an awareness that this isn’t accurate to real life, that you can buy into the conceit. By wearing the same outfit every time, it just becomes the character. Not to mention a studio can really save quite a few bucks by streamlining production with neat tricks like having only one character design to animate - when you are on a shoe-string budget, like pretty much every anime in the 90’s was, every cut corner counts.

What is interesting about Sailor Moon is that most of the time it doesn’t really use this conceit at all.

-----------

Episode 15 of Sailor Moon’s first season has, in its opening act, this shot of all of the Senshi (at the time) talking to the plot-of-the-day character, who clearly trains rock Pokemon in 16-bit caves in his off hours:

If you knew nothing about these three characters, you could probably infer about 80% of their personality just from their outfits. Usagi (the blond one in the middle, if that's necessary) is wearing:

Light pastel colours, with pink on top of that: girly, feminine, bubbly and breezy

Short-but-not-too-short of a skirt, and red heels: cares about fashion, wants to project an image of being a woman with a romantic hint to it

Long-twin tails w/ buns: Contrasting the shoes, she is still immature and childish. It also means she is the protagonist of an anime 

Rei (far right) rocks a very different look:

T-shirt and jean shorts, shoes over heels: sensible, practical, a bit sporty

Very short shorts, long black hair: Confident, a bit aggressive, and suggestive of a more overt sexuality

Ami (far left) settles into a more restrained vibe with:

Full, long, but sleeveless dress, bob-cut hair: Chaste, more conservative, but not to the point of prudishness; particularly with the length (and the hand posture, shielding her body) probably a bit shy

Monochrome blue colour in outfit & hair: reserved, serene, possessing a calm demeanor

I know I have seen the show already, but really none of these details are a stretch - this is just the language of fashion. And all of these outfits are outfits that the characters have never (or rarely) worn before up until this point. The cast of Sailor Moon, far from that animation conceit of “standard outfits”, change clothes all…

the….

time.

     I just randomly clicked on episodes to find these, it requires no hunting

And while it isn’t always as spot on as the top picture, they all in some way embody the language of visual design to speak to the personality of the characters. If you want to see more, check out one of the multiple tumblrs dedicated to the everyday clothing the Sailor Senshi wear, because of course those exist.

If this was a 2010’s Kyoto Animation show, pointing this out would be the end of it - every one of their shows has this level of impeccable detail. Sailor Moon is notable in that it is not at all that kind of show; the animation and designs in Sailor Moon take perpetual shortcuts to get the job done. I don’t think the transformation sequences need to be belabored - the way they permitted the team to recycle identical animation sequences, multiple times per episode, was surely a godsend to the production schedule. Yet not all of the budget limitations are so prettily masked:

     I’m sure they finished the background art in the...VHS release?

The show is filled with dirty animation, unfinished backgrounds, backgrounds that are a simple color gradient for no clear reason, and so on. It is clear that the Sailor Moon team did not have the resources for every detail - which is why the decision of what details they did choose to prioritize is so interesting.

----------

What is the point of Sailor Moon? I do believe that shows have “points”; and by that I don’t mean a message or theme but a core appeal to an audience, something specific that they will get out of the show. Almost every show appeals along multiple axes, and Sailor Moon is no exception, but I want to focus on one: aesthetic identification.

If you learn someone is a Sailor Moon fan, there is the obvious follow-up question you have to ask, namely “which Sailor Senshi are you?” It’s the which-Harry-Potter-house-are-you question of anime, a horoscope where you can choose your sign (in this case literally). The premise of this concept is not hard for media to execute on - it is just personality traits and aesthetics grouped together under a label, a basic building block of media and clickbait internet quizzes. Harry Potter, ironically, raised up its memetic question almost by accident, as its focus is so squarely on House Gryffindor that the others are almost forgotten; it was just so mind-bogglingly popular that it didn’t matter. 

Sailor Moon, however, takes this concept and allocates so much of its aesthetic budget into making it a centerpiece of the show. Sailor Moon herself is a klutzy, lazy romantic, Sailor Mercury is a shy, earnest bookworm, and so on, with none of them ever really becoming very complex characters. However, the show devotes itself to making you *feel* these archetypes as strongly and intricately as possible. All of those outfit changes are chosen because not only do real girls care about their outfits and can therefore identify more strongly with characters who do the same, but so they can constantly emulate their archetype in diverse, different ways. The show doesn't have the budget for intense action scenes, so after Sailor Moon engages in her hyper-serious transformation sequences, she proceeds to, nearly every time, bumble through the combat scenes like this:

Oh sure, the scenes are done this way because it is funny (and good comedy can be done on any budget - these shots are frequently still frames with motion lines!), but it is also done this way because Sailor Moon is a total screw-up, and if you identify with that it is validating to see someone “just like you” able to pull off wins despite it all. The transformation sequences are not only beautiful animation that showcases aspirational power, but are also crafted to highlight the personalities of the Senshi in question - unless you think aggressive, combative Rei got fire powers by coincidence. Half of the run-time of every episode is spent, not on the plot du-jour, but on light-hearted personal squabbles between the cast because those scenes are not just funny, but also allow for far more moments of character expression. 

All of that work pays off in building with the audience, not a connection with a character who reflects their identity in total, but a connection that reflects one aspect of their identity in an extremely deep (dare I say multifaceted?) way. I think if you were to describe Sailor Moon as a “shallow” show, you would actually be right to say so, in a sense. These characters will never have the true depth of personality, themes and so on of a more ‘adult’ show. But those adult shows have to spend their effort somewhere - for all that the themes of say Evangelion or Paranoia Agent are pristinely detailed and impactful, you aren’t ever going to be memorizing the moves of their transformation sequences. The way Sailor Moon committed so strongly to fleshing out the archetypes the Senshi stood for is, I think, one of the keys to how this cast of five became so iconic.

     Not even their school uniforms match! They had to spend time in-universe *justifying* this!

----------

A Final Note:

At least, everything I’ve said here applies to Sailor Moon at its peaks. The show, however, is not one without its stumbles, even in Season 1. This section doesn’t flow into the core essay too well, but I wanted to note it because if you were to watch Sailor Moon today, you might struggle to feel the dynamic outlined above. The biggest culprit here is the length - Season 1 is 46 episodes long, and sections of it most certainly drag. They also take a startlingly long time to introduce the cast - this choice builds tension around their arrival, but it also means the later Senshi get a lot less time to establish themselves. Sailor Venus in particular gets hamstrung by this - she is introduced and then immediately arc plot elements sweep the narrative, and so she is left as a hollow shell for some time. The pacing of the show is undoubtedly flawed.

I think Sailor Moon is a show that you do have to keep its time and place in mind for - namely, middle schoolers and anime nerds watching it on broadcast TV in the 90’s. As an adult you “get” the point of the show pretty quickly, and get satiated on it almost as fast. Watching it all in a few sittings only heightens this problem. For a younger audience, and one that is waiting for a week between episodes with no internet for plot reminders, all that extra time is needed to jog memories and build connections. And younger audiences just have that limitless commitment to the things they love! If you think no one could actually enjoy seeing the same transformation sequence for the 30th time, watch it with someone who would have died for this show when they were 10 and you will be disabused of that notion *very* quickly. 

Still, we can’t travel back in time - Sailor Moon is a show of its era. There are “filler-reduced” guides out there, though I caution that the plot of Sailor Moon is absolutely not the point of the show in comparison to the character dynamics, and so sometimes the filler is the best part (Cat-Rhett Butler is the best character in the show YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT). Certainly, however, some method must be used to cut down on its length. If you are going to be a first time viewer in adulthood, that reality should be kept in mind, and if you do accept it for what it is you can really appreciate its core appeal - and don’t forget to finish it off with a 1990′s era internet personality quiz to really wrap it up!

[beauregardlionett]

between the flashes

AO3 Link

Beau was always restless.

In elementary school, her teachers gave her one of those rubber wiggle cushions to sit on, just to keep her in her seat. Her parents let her partake in multiple after-school sports because it meant she would come home already worn out. They wouldn’t have to deal with her energy, and it looked good on college applications later down the line. She had a borderline obscene collection of fidget toys to her name and too many hobbies that she picked up and abandoned when they bored her.

Her friend Caleb from college often commented that he thought her natural state of existence was pure movement.

So how she ended up working part time as a model was beyond Beau. The journey from point A to B became muddled, but it likely began with Beau picking it up as a hobby and then forgetting to put it down again.

Granted, modeling was not a static thing. It involved constantly changing poses, making minute adjustments according to direction or impulse, and sometimes even changing or manipulating outfits. Sitting for hair and makeup was a torturous experience, so Beau had of course learned how to do it on her own. At least it kept her hands in motion.

Whenever she got to do dynamic shoots, Beau remembered why she stuck with modeling this long. They included everything she loved about the gig. Sometimes she got to travel, most of them were outside, and they often involved skills she had picked up from all of those sports she used to partake in.

“Beau,” Yasha called from behind the camera, sounding fondly exasperated. “I know you want to get outside, but you have to hold still for this photo.”

Yasha was an up-and-coming photographer that The Rexxentrum Times had described as “a photographer with a stunningly robust portfolio capturing everything from the playful mundane to the shockingly vulnerable”. She was also, more importantly, Beau’s girlfriend.

To most everyone’s surprise, it was Yasha who had approached Beau first, asking with her trademark quiet hesitance if Beau would model for a shoot. At the time Yasha asked, she was fresh out of college and Beau was two years in and changing her major. She had volunteered to model for an art class that Yasha had been in before her graduation. Apparently she’d made an impression.

The impulsive part of Beau told Yasha yes simply because she found Yasha attractive. The intelligent part of Beau bolstered the continuation of their business partnership after seeing the products of that first shoot.

Falling in love between the flashes had been an inevitable and welcome consequence.

“But babe,” Beau whined, adjusting her pose per Yasha’s patient direction. “I need to run around.”

“We’re almost done, Beau,” Yasha chuckled as she adjusted the light off to the side. “Then I’ll set you loose in a field in an outfit you can get as dirty as you’d like.”

“Fuck yes!” Beau cheered, settling into the nuances of her pose when Yasha stepped back behind the camera. A few snaps and quiet instructions later, Yasha straightened up, clicking through the photos on her display and smiling. It was that tiny, secret and pleased little spread of Yasha’s lips accompanied by an uptick at the corner of her mouth. Beau learned it was an unconscious reaction to her own work when she analyzed the satisfying, finer details.

Eager to see the raw photos, Beau bounded over and draped herself over Yasha’s back, arms flopping over her shoulders.

The concept for Yasha’s latest round of photos centered on flowers - their meaning, depiction, stereotypes and misconceptions. There was some implication among the stills about the flowers being the person, but art had always been beyond Beau. She could appreciate it, sure; all that deeper meaning stuff she would rather listen to Yasha wax poetic about than figure it out herself.

But this photo, this last pose, Beau needed no explanation. Despite being the one in the photo, she hardly recognized herself, feeling breathless.

Beau was in dark red cigarette pants and a deep crimson top. The sleeveless illusion neckline that fastened with a high collar around Beau’s neck offset the fitted sweetheart bodice. There were fake rubies in her ears, her features accentuated by the red eyeshadow on her lids, and the deepest red matte lipstick Beau owned. Yasha had her barefoot and sprawled sideways on an antique chaise lounge, leaning against the raised end with her cheek against her arm. Her hair hung loose, barely styled more than brushing out the waves and crimps from having her hair up in a bun most of the day. It hung over the arm of the lounge, long and dark.

In one hand, dangling toward the floor, Beau held a fistful of red rose petals, more scattered over the floor and the chaise. Between her teeth, she bit down on the blunt stem of a red rose in bloom, making it seem as if the flower was growing from her tongue.

Yasha had told her to go for something like desire with her expression. Everything about the setup of this photo seemed to expect some derivative of sexual interpretation. But Yasha wanted to take that capitalistic view point and have Beau model love - unadulterated affection.

The pose and staging were not what took Beau’s breath away, not the make-up or the flowers, the clothes or the composure. It was her own godsdamned eyes.

She looked right at the camera, but her focus seemed fixated past the lense. The skin around the corners of her eyes was smooth, her brow relaxed. There was a light in her irises, deep and yet affectionate. It softened the rough edges of how Beau presented herself as a model, as a person, and transformed her into love.

Without a doubt, she was looking at Yasha.

“This is beautiful, Beau,” Yasha said, sounding awed. “You look perfect.”

“All thanks to you,” Beau replied, both genuine and attempting to duck praise she still struggled to accept.

Yasha, ever attuned to each of Beau’s fluctuating frequencies, beamed at her. They leaned in together to observe the display, shoulder to shoulder.

“I assume you’re ready to go run in a field now, right?” Yasha was clearly trying to sound cheeky. Her tone, however, was a little too breathy, eyes far too distracted by Beau’s dark red lips to succeed.

“Absolutely,” Beau murmured. It was hard to miss how close their noses were to brushing.

Yasha hummed in response, leaning a little further toward Beau.

Suddenly, this all seemed like a lot.

Beau loved Yasha - in a whole and all-encompassing way. But it wasn’t something she just said every day. It was a gentle, ever present simmer of a thing. Love lived in her chest and made itself known in minuscule ways. She felt it like a tingle in her fingertips when she and Yasha traded coffee creamer and jam jars as they made breakfast. Love shaped her smile in a million different degrees whenever Yasha did something extremely...Yasha. It released her most honest form of laughter late at night when it was just the two of them and a bottle of wine.

Love appeared as wildflowers picked on a whim - not intentional roses. It lingered like Yasha’s favorite band t-shirt from high school Beau now had as part of her own wardrobe - not slimming pants and sexy shirts.

And while their first kiss had been the product of a dramatic build-up of emotion and pining, this was not them now. She trusted Yasha, but this unexpected snapshot of vulnerability destabilized Beau and found her unprepared for the aftershocks.

Beau was impulsive when overwhelmed.

Yasha leaned in for a kiss, lips parted just so, eyes closed, a breath away. Beau puckered her lips and blew a quick burst of air right against Yasha’s mouth.

Yasha pulled back sharply, blinking in surprise as she stared down at Beau. Unable to help it, Beau laughed at the expression on Yasha’s face, who was quick to recover, more than used to Beau’s antics. Grinning, she made a grab for Beau, who danced out of Yasha’s reach, laughing louder as she squealed and darted around the studio.

Beau moved fast, but Yasha was right on her heels and had strength and impressive reach working for her. It didn’t take long for her to catch Beau by the waist, twirling her around in a back hug. She used their position to her advantage, peppering quick, tickling kisses over Beau’s shoulders and neck. Beau squirmed and giggled, trying to either wriggle to freedom or twist around in Yasha’s arms so that she could fight back with kisses of her own. Eventually, breathless, Beau gave up and let Yasha hold her, both drunk off of laughter as Yasha put her down.

Twisting around once her feet met the floor, Beau looked up at Yasha, cheeks aching with her grin. There was nothing but absolute adoration shaping Yasha’s expression as she brushed Beau’s hair back from her face. Something vulnerable gave a mild twist beneath Beau’s ribs, but she didn’t pull away or stop smiling.

She trusted Yasha. Now that Beau had her balance, her feet stable beneath her, it became easier to face everything.

Yasha leaned in and kissed Beau’s brow with gentle attention. Beau clung to Yasha’s wrist where she cradled Beau’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Beau whispered - for what, even she didn’t know. But Yasha seemed to understand.

“Now,” Yasha said, pulling back with a grin. “Ready to go outside?”

“Hell yeah!” Beau cheered, darting off to gather her next outfit and make-up wipes.

She might not always have the wherewithal to put her emotions into words, but she had Yasha. That was more than enough.

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Eight

Link to Masterpost

A prompt-heavy update, to be sure! This one combines three:

“What are you doing?” “Impromptu dance party.” “It’s three in the morning.”

“You’re weird.” “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

and

Person A is cooking breakfast and sets off the smoke alarm waking up Person B who was still asleep

Enjoy!

~*~*~

Aelin grinned as she quietly closed the door behind her and stepped into the living room. She had just finished her first shift at work without that awful boot that had been a part of her life for eight long weeks, and she couldn’t be happier. Yes, her ankle was aching slightly after a long night on her feet, but it was better than she had feared it would be.

Better still, she knew that she had replaced her stash of snacks just the day before, and Rowan wouldn’t have had time to relocate or get rid of them yet with how busy his work had been keeping him.

Heading for the kitchen, she thumbed open her phone and scrolled through her playlists, selecting one with a smile and pressing shuffle. Upbeat music filled the kitchen as she dug through the cabinets, foot tapping with the beat.

A few seconds later she grinned triumphantly and emerged from the cabinet, fingers clutched around one of the bars of chocolate she’d slipped into the groceries. She had just opened it and was about to take her first bite of sweet victory when she heard a rough voice behind her.

“What are you doing?” Gods, Rowan looked awful, dark circles under dull eyes and hair a complete disaster. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs; perhaps he had fallen asleep at his desk now that she’d given his office back to him.

Regardless, her hips didn’t stop swaying along with the music as she turned to him and smiled. “I’m having an impromptu dance party, obviously.”

“At…” Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he checked the time. “Fuck, three in the morning?”

“I am celebrating my newfound freedom,” she replied seriously.

“You’re going to break your ankle again if you keep stressing it like this, and then where will you be?”

Aelin winked and slid closer to him, still moving to the beat. “I guess I’ll have my big, strong roommate helping me again,” she purred.

Rowan rolled his eyes as she rested her hands on his hips. “You are so weird,” he muttered.

“Mmm, maybe,” Aelin allowed. “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

A single eyebrow lifted on Rowan’s face. “Basic?”

“Yeah, you know. Boring. You have to be aware of the concept, unless you’re an even grumpier and older man than I thought.” It was quite possibly a dangerous thing to say to him, but it was late and she was riding the high of having survived a night without that damned boot. Hopefully he’d understand.

“There’s a difference between being boring and not dancing at three in the morning.”

“Says you,” she grinned. “I bet you don’t even dance when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Of course not,” he replied. “I work when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Seems to me like you were working at three in the morning,” she accused. “I know that’s normal for me, but it can’t be for you.”

“It depends on the work. I’m covering for someone else right now, so I’ve got more on my plate than normal.”

“How long have you been awake?” Aelin asked, suddenly curious.

Rowan frowned. “Long enough to hate everything about this.”

“So, what, twenty minutes?”

He snorted. Gods, he must have been exhausted for her to get an actual laugh out of him. “Try ‘since about this time yesterday’,” he admitted.

“What? No, Rowan, that’s way too long for people who aren’t either in college or working weird shifts. Did you fall asleep at your desk? Because you look like you fell asleep at your desk.” Without even thinking about what she was doing, Aelin ran her fingers through the tangle of his hair to start taming it.

His fingers encircled her wrist, and she stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t fall asleep at my desk.”

Just then, the music playing from her phone switched from something that was merely suggestive to something that was outwardly dirty, and she broke away from him and fumbled with the device, hoping to stop it before he noticed exactly what the lyrics were.

She was obviously unsuccessful, though, for he almost doubled over laughing. “I didn’t realize it was that kind of dance party.”

Gods, she hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “It wasn’t. The playlist was on shuffle.”

“Aelin, that means you had to have picked that playlist. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Fuck, but she hated living with a man who analyzed word choice for a living. “I forgot that was on there. And I’m not having this argument with you right now.”

“So when are we having this argument?” he grinned. “I want to be prepared.”

“When you’ve slept, Rowan, for fuck’s sake.” With that she began physically herding him up the stairs. “Come on, go.”

When they reached the doorway to the room he had taken over from Aedion, she leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded against her chest. He moved toward the dresser and opened a drawer, glancing back at her. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all, as long as you’re getting to sleep,” she replied.

He cleared his throat. “Aelin?”

“Yes?”

“Get out.”

“Oh!” Gods, she had completely misinterpreted what he was saying. “Oh, I’ll, um…”

She shifted away from the door, and before she could figure out what on earth to say to him he had closed the door—surprisingly gently—in her face.

“Um, good night, I guess,” she finally managed.

“Good night, Aelin,” he called through the door.

Well, fuck. With that embarrassment behind her, she turned to her own room to hopefully settle down for the night and not replay that conversation for hours on end.

~*~*~

Aelin woke up earlier than usual the next morning to a silent house.

The silence in itself wasn’t unusual; Rowan was a very quiet housemate even when he was home. A check of her calendar reminded her that it was Saturday, meaning he was likely either on one of his habitual runs through the neighborhood or holed up in his office pretending that working on weekends was a thing that normal people in his position did. Just in case it was the latter, she made sure to keep as quiet as she could while she slipped into a t-shirt dress and crept down the stairs.

The office was silent, the door opening to an empty room, which meant that either he was out running or he was somehow still asleep. A glance at the doorway showed his running shoes tucked exactly where he always left them.

Stunned, Aelin sat on the couch to collect herself. She couldn’t recall a time she’d actually woken up before Rowan; the opposition of their schedules usually meant that he was the early bird and she the night owl. However, this meant she had a chance to enact a plan she’d been idly thinking about for weeks now.

Rowan had done so much for her the past few weeks, picking up the slack in the household chores without once complaining about it and regularly cooking for her as well. She’d wanted to do something in return for so long, and now that her ankle was healed and he wasn’t awake to stop her an idea came to her.

She silently slid into the kitchen, carefully opening cabinet doors until she found a nonstick pan with a quiet noise of triumph. That went on the stovetop, and a small bowl and a whisk were next on her list. Soon those were sitting on the countertop beside the stove, and she was looking up video tutorials on cooking.

She had watched Rowan scramble eggs so many times now. How hard could it possibly be?

The pan went over heat with some oil in it, and then she pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator. He always made two for her, but should he get a third? Would he even want a third?

Aelin realized she was now staring at the carton and didn’t know how long she had been staring at the carton. With a sigh, she shook her head. She’d barely begun and she was already overthinking it. How typical. Two eggs it was.

She cracked them into the bowl, cheering silently when she managed to do it relatively neatly, and soon she had whisked them up into a unified frothy mass of yellow liquid. Perfect. Just like the video, and just like when Rowan did it.

Belatedly, she realized she would need a spatula on hand to stir the eggs, and searched through the drawers until she found one. Then it was time to add the eggs to the pan.

She stifled a yelp as the pan hissed angrily with the addition of the eggs, steam rising hot and fast—or, fuck, was that smoke? She poked at the eggs timidly with the spatula, revealing the already-blackened underside of them in a hissing release of—yes, that was smoke. Fuck. She’d ruined it.

Time seemed to slow almost to a halt as the pan hissed and sizzled before her, pouring out amounts of dark grey smoke that really shouldn’t have been possible for such a small amount of—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound entered her awareness dimly at first, as fixated as she was on the pan in front of her. When it finally registered, though, she yelped and tossed the pan at the sink, hoping that would stop everything from getting even worse. It landed with a clatter, but even that couldn’t outdo the piercing shriek of the smoke detector. Fuck, it would wake Rowan up, she had to figure out how to stop it.

She dragged a chair over from their little dining nook and clambered on top of it, frantically waving underneath it to clear whatever little sensor had gotten overloaded. The air was slowly clearing, and she was just starting to hope that she might actually succeed in this futile venture until she heard the sound of running feet and a shout from the stairway. “Aelin!”

Shit. She was in deep and unending shit, with no way to talk her way out of it.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan

[alchemist-shizun]

I Can See My Kingdom Now

Read on Ao3!

Chapter 3: Time and again boys are raised to be men

Word Count: 10,176

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, Deceit.

Pairing(s): Eventual Logicality and Prinxiety. (hints to Royality, they’re forced into an arranged marriage)

Warnings: -Mild cursing (there's just one cuss word) -Minor character death -Negative thoughts -Panic attack -Insomnia -Some kind of selective mutism -Toxic parental behavior -Mentions of hallucinations -Food mention -Self-esteem issues and self-deprecation

Summary:  Growing up isn't easy for anybody. Especially when you're the new around, when you feel like you lost everything or when it seems you have the world against you.

A/N: Or of how I’m projecting slightly into one of the characters. As for the next update, I don't have much ready so you'll have to be waiting a bit for it, nothing specific this time. I'm currently working on a Prinxiety one-shot that I hope I can release soon, plus in September I'll be participating in the little event with daily prompts dedicated to the series. Also, I'll be soon starting the last year of high school, so updates will be definitely slower, but I won't give up, promise. Thank you for sticking around till now, I'll hear from you soon!

✾

❝ You are broken and callow Cautious and safe You are boundless in beauty With fright in your face ❞

The first years through his “learning how to be a valuable prince” had passed, and Roman was already grateful for the castle servants, who seldom sneaked in his room extra food. It wasn't like they were making it too hard for him and basically throwing knowledge at him or expecting him to be a natural and ace every single lesson.

His teachers adjusted to him, they let him take his time and were more than happy to explain concepts more than once.

It was just that he felt like he had to learn how to live all over again: first came posture, back at the orphanage none really cared if you were walking, skipping along the pavement, even running at times.

Here you had to keep your body in a particular position, your head straight, especially among other aristocrats. Your step had to be measured, every part of your body talked for you most of the times.

A step back could mean disdain, fright, a step forward could be interest, trust, a hand towards you is a chance to dance or an offer for a hug.

Roman had met many nobles, apart from the royals from Tinfea, after he came back to the palace; they all wanted to congratulate his parents and meet the famous lost prince. The story they knew was that a naïve servant had let the gates open and he had wandered outside by himself until he got lost for good.

As a child, he liked the attention of numerous people, but how to behave around them wasn't exactly his expertise.

Every time he did something unusual, the strangers would mention how adorable he was. His parents would smile and stroke his hair gently, a sign that, regardless of his inexperience, he was doing a good job.

To help him to get used to it, servants that casually met him in the hallways reminded him of his posture. Eventually, he got there.

While also practicing that, which reminded him to always look up to people and never look down on them, he learnt what kind of behavior he had to keep during meals, which silverware to use, how many servings there were in each meal, which one was his reserved seat.

To make it fun, he established a game between him and his parents: it consisted on guessing the food that was going to be served by the kitchen servants. It was a secret between him and the cook, but he'd occasionally sneak in the kitchen to get a “general idea”, as he liked to call it, of the possibilities. He totally wasn't cheating. Besides, he loved how his parents compared him to a magician every time he succeeded.

They made everything easier for his age, enjoyable even.

Everyday he learnt something new and everyday he was aghast: it happened even as he woke up in his chambers for the first time.

He had been woken up by the gentle daylight of the morning that was peering through the translucent curtains, pulled apart by one of the servants he had seen going around the corridors before going to sleep.

He had tried to snuggle closer to the covers and the pillows, shielding himself from the eventual tasks he had to complete during the day.

The servant had approached him and, with honey-like words, they persuaded him to get up. Only that he was simply expected to sit up on his bed.

Ever since he came to the castle, a servant would meet him in the morning to wake him up, then they'd be helped by a couple more to bring in the room a dressing table with a mirror, a chair, some objects and utensils they needed, meanwhile one of them would look into a wooden case full of rich fabrics that Roman didn't even know to distinguish.

The servants always helped him get up on his feet, they led him to the chair to sit down and they washed his face, his hair got combed and treated with products that made them soft and perfumed. Different types of oils and creams were smeared every day on his skin as they undressed him, careful not to get the night vest dirty.

No wonder they forced him to take a hot bath every night.

When they were done with that he got up, almost completely naked, and they proceeded to help him put on his clothes, which were layers on layers of various types of cloth. He didn't even know all of their names.

He looked at his minute figure on the tall mirror nailed on the wall which was perpendicular to the bed: splashes of red, gold, white and black blinded his sight as he noticed his hair tied at the nape of his neck.

After breakfast he had his first lessons of reading and writing in the library; his teacher was the same one that taught him about the history of their kingdom. She was an old lady with a streak of bright green in her white hair and a perpetual knowing look that made her seem like she had lived as long as the planet had existed. As if she knew everything there was to know.

Roman had always found her somewhat intimidating, which led to an ever-growing respect towards her: in a couple of months he had been able to read fluently and write with little to no mistakes.

The lady was amazed at how he kept practicing and demanding for books narrating fables. To the point that, unable to stop herself, she finally asked.

« What is it that interests you so much? » she lent him the second book that week, she was afraid she would run out of them soon. She made a mental note to send a man to the nearest kingdom.

« They remind me of the village I was in. » he said, eyeing the book cover with enthusiasm.

« How so? »

« I used to make up stories with a friend! » he looked up at her with a warm smile « Father said I'll visit him soon. » he added, excitement in his eyes.

Something sour set in the lady's mouth. She knew better, as always.

She couldn't help but smile back and place her hands her hips.

« Perhaps after you learn a bit of those history lessons I gave you, will you? A prince has to know everything about his kingdom if he wants to rule someday, understood? »

He let out a small huff « Of course, ma'am. »

She pat his head. « That's good. » and, as she stared at his back to check his posture while he walked away, a sad look couldn't help but make its way through her face.

After Roman had mastered all the first lessons, he was taught how to speak properly in the presence of nobles, elders, young people and the plebs in general. It was a surprisingly young servant that helped him, since sometimes it could happen that some wise and skilled enough servants could be “promoted” as teachers for the king's children.

All the letters in front of the prince seemed to swirl around his head and pressing at both sides when he looked at all the different meanings a single word could have. All the different ways that you could say something so that you could be understood by all types of audiences. The best moments were when he used the wrong linguistic register and he ended up talking to a kid the way you would treat an emperor.

At the same time he took up art lessons with that same servant. Roman found out they were not only good at how to behave with someone but they could also make the nicest instant portraits. The first one she did of him, he hanged it right after in his room, on the side of his half-empty bookshelf he asked his parents to bring in after a couple of gifts from his history teacher.

The second reaction was simply a request to teach him how to be as good as them. So they started going out of the palace daily, then into the gardens, to just sit down and draw from reference. He kept trying, transforming nature in swirls of colors and pencil figures.

Before he could say he was pretty good at it, a couple of years would have to pass, but he was content enough with just staying outside and enjoy the artistic point of view his servant offered him.

Twice a week, on the other hand, they stayed inside and flipped through a history of art book, full of pictures and analysis of the paintings or architectures.

Then, there was one of Roman's favorite things: he began sword fighting lessons. A valuable prince needed to have an eclectic knowledge and skills, but most of all if he wanted to protect a whole kingdom, he had to be able to protect himself first.

One of the Royal Guard's knights was lent to teach him; Roman believed he was going to have one of those basic lessons in which you went into the backyard of the castle, out of earshot not to disturb anyone with the clanging noise of metal.

Never in his life he would have imagined to be led into a ballroom and met with a curly dark petrol-haired man and a mischievous smile: he had two perfectly created wooden swords behind his back, like a ninja about to unsheathe his own katanas.

Roman approached the man with a confused yet composed look and when he stopped a few feet away, he held that stare.

The knight's expression shifted to a thoughtful one, never leaving that slight curve of his lips; he saw Roman, a tiny child, refraining from taking his eyes off of him, a well-trained man from the Royal Guard. And he didn't find fear in those honey-like irises, he was expectant. Rigid, but ready.

At this point silence had been enough to still keep her around. The knight threw a sword at the boy with no warning, it was definitely a test for his reflexes.

It was a habit that he always did with his new apprentices, it felt like some kind of superstitious gesture, if the person didn't catch it was probably going to have a lot of trouble teaching. On the other hand if they did …

The knight could only watch as the hilt of the wooden sword flew in Roman's hand, perfectly adjusting to his grip.

… well, it was going to be fun.

« I like you. »

The prince flashed him a satisfied smile.

The older man got a few steps closer and leaned down, Roman could see the red in his eyes that previously he thought was an unusual shade of brown.

« Shall we dance? »

Always busy with lessons and writing down stories to read to his loving parents, Roman found himself being fifteen, the village and its inhabitants was a distant memory he couldn't have the luxury to think about.

He didn't even realize he stopped asking about Virgil. He didn't realise he stopped thinking about him or the orphanage. It was less hurtful to pretend it all didn't exist than accept he would have never been able to come back. They hated him by now, probably.

His history lessons were so persistent he could now recite all his ancestors' lives backwards. Or in alphabetic order. Or in any kind of order, really. As he let go of the lessons he had mastered, new ones would come up almost instantly and, sometimes, take away even more time than the ones he had before.

Not that he wanted to complain, he'd be exhausted enough to have no trouble sleeping and never waking up a single time in the middle of the night. Which made the actual waking up ten times more challenging.

But most of all, he loved a lot of the lessons he got. Especially singing. You don't know where Roman is and it's time for his daily walk around the front garden's sculptures? He's probably moving around a large room and singing his heart out.

What was frustrating but also very surprising was how good he sang, as if he was a natural, born to entertain those around him with enchanting melodies.

His teacher couldn't believe it the first time he heard him. Soon enough, they had started a duet of voice and harp strings, creating symphonies in every different possible way.

Sometimes they really had to drag him out of rooms to participate to at least thirty minutes of his other teachings, and yes, a prince needs to know about the gods, the pontifex can't do everything by themselves.

Roman walked down the castle's external stairs, as white as the clouds above him, he occasionally thought that maybe there was a spell keeping them so clean and candid.

There was an old sage leading him towards the marble sculptures that ran along the garden's limit. Same impeccable color of the castle.

Nothing got ruined in their royal bubble, it seemed there was an invisible defense around their property. That was were the odd legend of their kingdom came from.

« Remember this one? » the sage, another one of the teachers, pointed to the marble figure they were standing in front of, halfway through the garden.

« Yes. » Roman studied the sculpture, an androgynous-looking anthropomorphic god stared him down, eyes white and empty, they had a crown on their half extended left arm, with bifurcated tips at the top.

The other hand kept their vest up, pressing it on their chest, over their heart. The pattern on it displayed, in a bas-relief, detailed and messy curves and swirls.

« The God of Death, ruler of the Underworld, also called “Dark Kingdom”. That's the reason of the crown. » the old man nodded, satisfied with the answer, but that wasn't where Roman had finished. « The vest suggests the symbol of dark magic, as they were believed to be the First Sorcerer. »

« You could have stopped before … »

Roman arched an eyebrow, it was unlikely for a man like him to be skeptical towards the Forbidden Topic. « I'm not afraid of two words. »

« You're aware of the reason why we refrain to mention it, aren't you? »

« I am. But I don't think it is right to belittle a God, or conceal one of their most important features, only because of a human dilemma. Isn't it impious to bend a deity's description to a mortal rule? » Roman turned back to his teacher, expecting a frown on the man's face.

Instead, the facade the sage was keeping up suddenly fell, only to be replaced by a satisfied and content expression; he pat the top of the boy's head while nodding slightly.

« Very good, Roman. I take you've read those books I suggested? »

The little prince showed a sheepish smile. « I guess I enjoy myths. »

Their conversation went on, the topics somehow brushing philosophy at times, but was soon abruptly interrupted by the loud noise of hooves on the stone pavement between the two sections of the garden.

Their glances turned towards the entrance, where a carriage was let in through the gates.

Both prince and sage straightened their postures and waited for the mysterious person to show themselves. They didn't expect a boy around Roman's age to come out of the carriage, all dressed up as an obvious piece of nobility, by himself.

As he got closer, Roman could notice the sneering look that engulfed him, red hair almost looked like fire under the hit of the sun rays.

The boy stopped a few feet away from them, then bowed down. « I am Desmond Ananke, marquis of the kingdom of Elis. » when he looked up, he found himself transfixed by those pitch-black eyes, as dark as a moonless night, or the moment right before your eyes adjust to the blackness of a room.

He felt dizzy for a second, was that even natural? Magic?

He came back to life when he felt the sage's hand being placed on his shoulder, when he looked over to the teacher he surprisingly found a sour expression. Roman decided to just nod at the boy, a cue for him to state the meaning of the visit.

« My parents agreed upon sending me for the monthly donation we had planned decades ago. » he turned his head to the older man. « I'm positive you wouldn't mind if I helped myself up the stairs to meet the sovereigns. » a smirk was all he needed to show for the man to understand.

He stayed silent for a few beats, then let go of the prince and stepped aside.

Desmond, before excusing himself, got a closer look to the boy. « So you must be the famous Roman Bia, I suppose. » he held his hand towards him, if he expected a handshake, he wasn't ready for the marquis to take his own hand and place a kiss on the top of his knuckles.

He looked up at him, Roman's hand still close to his lips « Your surname means “brutal strength”. I wonder if your delicacy can contrast that. »

Roman had no clue what that meant, he felt Desmond's stare on him, the warmth his hand was irradiating on his skin and the general discomfort of the whole situation. Was he supposed to answer? Was it a compliment? Did he know …

« I wonder if you're aware our prince is only fifteen and has been promised to the prince of Tinfea for five years by now. » Roman was glad his sword fighting teacher had come to the rescue, he was probably being late to his lesson.

The marquis eyed him, his smile slightly faltered and he carefully snatched his hand away.

Without any further word, he excused himself and began pacing towards the palace.

Roman had retrieved his hand as if he had just touched a burning pot, only that the only fire he felt right under his skin was dancing around his cheeks and ears because of the embarrassment. He looked at the place where the marquis once stood with a confused expression.

What was his deal?

« That motherf- »

« Language! »

« Gods! » the knight put his hands on his face and slid them up on his hair in a desperate gesture. « Stop lecturing me, dad. »

« I am not your father. » the sage gave him a puzzled look while the knight rolled his eyes.

« Maybe when you stop treating me like a child, you won't be. Well! » he clasped his gloved hands together and turned to a silent Roman that was wondering whether or not he should have let them have their moment and leave. « Ready for your lesson, kid? » Roman simply nodded.

They excused themselves from the elder and the knight, Crowley was his name, as he finally recalled, slid his arm around Roman's shoulder in a friendly way, only to lower down a little and speak to him more clearly.

« Look, that guy from before? Bad news. » he made a face. « I'll tell you, just because our kingdom is so awesome, the more outer people try to take advantage and benefit from us. »

« They're envious? »

« That's an understatement, but yeah, pretty much. » Roman felt some kind of burning feeling in his chest.

« Can't they just focus on improving their own kingdom instead of taking things from us? »

Crowley grinned. « Oh, is our prince getting bitter? »

« Hah. Not at all. I'm keeping my cool here. I'm in perfect conditions. » he flashed him a perfectly constructed smile. « See? »

« Sure, my lord. In perfect conditions of pretending, should I call the jester and tell him to call some actors to join you? »

« Oh, gladly, thank you so much. »

As they entered the fighting room, chuckling, they made their way towards their steel swords and started their usual sparring.

« Still, you should know … » the swords kept on clashing with no result. « … that boy from before talked about a donation. »

Roman started to lose some ground. « Yes? I never heard of that. »

« In my opinion, it's stupid. Arcadia has to donate part of our treasure to help other kingdoms. »

« What? » Roman's movements looked even more aggressive, tenacious.

« Apparently, it's the only way to assure they don't move war against us. » he sighed as Roman made a mistake in his posture, but regained it quickly.

« Wouldn't that lead us to eventually fall? It's not like the gods gift us gold every month. »

« That's what I've been saying. And the king's advisor too. They're ruining us anyway, this is only the slower method, the king said. »

« This is ridiculous. » the knight noticed Roman was basically throwing all his hits on him.

« I know, not to mention that marquis clearly wanted to woo you. »

« Woo me? »

« He wanted to marry you, to, of course, get your nobility status from the kingdom's alliance. There's no love there. » Crowley noticed Roman's expression hardening with rage. « Only strategy. » the prince scoffed, annoyed. « Like a mere tool. »

That's when Crowley realized his tactic was working and, in a matter of seconds, he found his sword clattering to the floor. Roman stopped moving, awed by his own doing and looked up to his teacher both smiling widely.

« Well done, kid. » he reached to pat his head, but Roman ignored that and wrapped his hands around him in a happy hug. He literally started screaming of joy.

« Gods, I did it! Did you see that? Did you see how I landed that sword? That was awesome! » he trailed off complimenting himself and pacing around the room, excitement printed on his face.

Crowley, amused, kept on watching Roman's little burst of happiness. Still, he realized it was now time for him to let other lessons take up his time. Like …

« Courting. This guy needs to learn courting. »

He was sixteen when it happened. Roman was enjoying one of the books his literature teacher had recommended, sitting at the library's table. He loved those lessons and was waiting for them to start.

His eyes lit up when he heard the door opening, but he never expected to find one of his servants and a gloomy expression. They approached him and took his hand while watery eyes threatened to start tearing up.

« Crowley is dead. »

That was the last thing he heard before zoning out, his heart sank and he felt numb; his hearing stopped working, it was as if the servant was talking to an inanimate object. They continued talking about how he died while helping a kingdom in a battle and was found lifeless, but Roman's mind couldn't process any more information.

Crowley is dead.

He could still see his mischievous red eyes in the corner of his own, now covered by a tragic and dark veil, his mouth agape as if he wanted to say something but there was nothing else to say at the same time. It was written all over his face.

Crowley is dead.

The servant brought him back to consciousness by touching his shoulder, the memory of his teacher doing the same burned in his mind, tears welled up in his eyes and found the strength to sprint away from a startled servant and run down the castle halls.

Crowley is dead.

He knew who he was looking for. His sight was clouded, making it harder to recognize his surroundings. He didn't care he was running, he didn't care his sobs could have been audible from outer space. He received concerned but knowing looks by anyone he crossed paths with. Then he found the room.

Crowley is dead.

His trembling hand turned the shiny and cold handle that almost blinded him. After closing the door behind him he rushed over to the person he knew needed comfort the most, just like him.

Roman hugged the sage, Nicephorus, he hugged him tight and pretended they didn't notice each other's red eyes. They also pretended they didn't hear their crying, seemingly unstoppable. Nicephorus pretended he didn't lose who could have seemed like his son, Roman pretended he didn't lose the brother he never had.

You can never judge whether someone's life was happy until it's gone.

Roman was seventeen. He was also finally allowed to make little trips outside of the palace and meet his people: he went mostly around the center, where his parents didn't prohibit him to go. Seven years kept inside the castle, busy with his education and getting to know his parents and kingdom, and everything about the village was now long gone from his mind, a distant memory he didn't dig into anymore.

Saying that he was well recognized by his people was an understatement. The people loved him. They cheered for him when his carriage made its way towards the center's plaza. He'd greet every single one of them, he let them hold his hands, he kissed little children's heads and willingly let them lead him through the city.

He wasn't like those royal people that looked down on the plebs with indifference from their carriages, he enjoyed interacting with others, being able to confront his life with the one of the others.

He often listened to their problems and realized that this type of confrontation helped the royalty greatly in fixing the kingdom's problems for the better; dealing directly with the people that faced issues that could be resolved was one of their best mechanisms.

And not only had he a great relationship with his people, but also the one with his servants couldn't be of any less importance. They were happy to spend time with him when his parents couldn't, as much as he was grateful for them for anything they had done.

People outside stopped believing he was a real prince, how could someone so kind-hearted have no dark feature?

They didn't know about his nightmares, for sure.

Or all the times he felt like he was remembering something of the night he disappeared, only to break down right after, the only comfort being his mother's embrace.

And despite being surrounded by a multitude of loved ones who loved him back, they didn't know about the loneliness he felt when he finally reached eighteen.

« Roman, dear, the Pais family is coming very soon, will you come to meet them? »

Yes, even with a guaranteed fiancé.

Royal courting was weird in their days: the two promised could see each other little to no time at all, preferably spending as less time together as they could. Meals with parents were fine, they even had the luxury to sit in front of each other, talk sometimes, but out of those? One or two hours a day were enough, thank you very much.

So, what the Tinfea and Arcadia families were doing to follow these unfathomable laws was meeting once a year, celebrating one year less to the upcoming wedding.

And now that Roman was eighteen, well, things were only starting to get faster.

« We're going to speed up the preparations with them today, you can finally spend some more time with the lovable Patton, aren't you happy? » his father was at his left as they made their way towards the entrance of the castle.

« Truly charmed. » he mused, not particularly focused on his question. It wasn't like he didn't want to meet him, or thought he wasn't at all an appreciable companion, but the little time they spent together wasn't enough for him. He wasn't even allowed to send letters; their relationship only started as acquaintances and went back to strangers after a couple of months of not seeing each other.

Roman thought that was ridiculously inconvenient for both of them.

« Wait, is Logan going to be here? »

« Honey, of course, he's always been. » Roman made a slightly frustrated pout at that.

« Don't be like that. He's their closest advisor. »

« I know, but I don't like him. He makes me feel incompetent. »

« He's older than you, Roman, it's normal if his knowledge is higher than yours. »

« And you should respect him as such. Then you will get along just fine. »

The prince sighed, he couldn't argue with that. What they always said was that he could at least act like he was glad to have someone as guest.

Furthermore, he loved acting. He couldn't remember how many times he had sneaked out to get to the local theatre to watch actors perform, or perform himself after he made sure none was there.

« Oh, I forgot to tell you! » Roman's mother turned to him, beaming. « This time, they're going to stay here longer. We're going to put into action what Logan had suggested two years ago. »

Well, that was certainly new.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Patton had often wondered why things were a certain way.

He sounded like a kid when he kept on asking different questions about the subject he was debating with someone.

Why were clouds like that? Are stars motionless? Why is grass green and not blue? How come animals didn't talk, do they even understand us?

As he grew up and reached adulthood, the questions would change into more soul-searching ones.

Does happiness really exist? Is the mind more important than the heart? What's the difference between justice and revenge? When is it required to be selfless and when is it allowed to be selfish?

One time at fourteen he found himself stargazing and wondering if he could even reach the stars one day, that sky glitter that winked and smiled at him every night. He had approached Logan's chamber and ran in the room out of breath, at which a startled seer blinked a couple of times, frozen still, and looked at him with arched eyebrows.

« Hey Lo- » a couple of short breaths. « You're a magician, right? »

A slow nod came from the older boy, whose gears began turning in his head, trying to predict which kind of outcome that conversation was going to lead to.

« So can you fly?! » Pat had clasped his hands together in little fists in front of his mouth and leaned in towards the chair his friend was sitting in.

Logan wondered if he could have either expected that kind of question or if he definitely wasn't aware this scenario could have ever taken place.

Eventually, he decided to get up from his chair and, kindly, escort Patton out of his room, while the prince whined about wanting to reach the sky.

After he closed the door behind himself, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought back an amused smile that was threatening to form on his lips.

Of course, he lost, but in his defense, he was pretty tired.

After the prince's fifteenth birthday, Logan wondered sadly why they had to unquestionably stop attending lessons together; they had less time to spend with each other now that Patton was up to courting lessons most of his day, while he retreated to his room pretty much always to self-teach himself the remaining of magic knowledge. His sovereigns told him he didn't need teachers anymore, they meant to praise him for his own talents at such a young age. But he didn't somehow feel satisfied.

On the contrary, his heart sank when he stopped in front of their closed room and heard that they were actually glad their son was going to spend less time with him and that they couldn't wait to get rid of him.

He stayed silent and moved on.

When Patton reached sixteen, Logan decided he hated feelings.

He hated feelings because he could not conceive his kingdom's rules and what sometimes they did to people, how it changed them and made them treat him from a respectable member to a simple servant undeserving of any kind of attention. He decided to stop showing such feelings as he now found them useless: what could he do with his emptiness? The anger? Disappointment? Loneliness? All the other emotions he didn't want to name? Things that only slowed down his work?

Well, there was one thing he surely could do, which was bury them deep inside and never listen to them again.

And so he did.

At seventeen, Patton was having a mental breakdown. Too many things were happening at once: preparations for the wedding (already, though Roman was still fourteen), the fate of the curse approaching which he tried to ignore, his teenage mood swings, him reaching soon adulthood and the always more persistent lessons. About literally anything.

It was especially the lessons that stressed him out. In one of them in particular, in which he had to learn how to dance but was failing miserably, he concluded it was best to abruptly storm out of the room and take his frustration out on the grass he was stomping as he made a beeline for the flower garden of the east side of the castle.

Stressful tears were prickling his eyes, he carefully wiped them away on his sleeve, growing discontent was spreading inside him since he didn't want to cry, and yet he was too vulnerable to stop himself. Why did he feel so weak?

Patton took a deep breath and made his way through the garden, hands curled in fists at his side, when he eventually had to stop himself once again.

Logan was sitting on the ground, a couple of feet away from him, he was leaning on some flowers, examining them, while some objects – related to magic, Patton thought – were lying all around him.

Suddenly aware of a viewer, his friend- wait, were they even still friends? How long ago was the last time they talked for real?

Patton grimaced, he couldn't even remember that.

Nonetheless, Logan looked up at him with a blank stare, it only faltered for a moment as he noticed the slight redness around the prince's pupils.

They kept staring silently, until eventually the mage broke the silence between them, after he turned his attention back to the flowers he was observing attentively.

« What can I help you with? » there was no real interest in his voice, no signs of concern (although he definitely knew Patton was missing his lesson), the lack of anything bothered the prince in a way he couldn't comprehend. It's like that uneasiness you feel when someone slightly moved everything in your room and you can't tell what has changed.

Patton as well couldn't tell what had happened to make their relationship so different from before.

And maybe it was exactly because of that, maybe because of how much pressure they were putting in him, the expectation of his parents that he could master all his teachings in no time, the absence of the comfort he once found in friendship with his servants, whatever case it may have been, that he found himself dropping on his knees and throwing his arms around Logan's shoulders.

Patton tried to hide his face on the other's robes, tightening his grip as little sobs shook his body.

Whatever grudge Logan could have been holding against him (which, mind you, he didn't, since Patton was just that impossible to despise), he cast that aside and surrounded the younger one's chest with his own arms, hesitantly.

They sat there for a couple of minutes as the prince let out all the displeasure and the other boy just tried to help with soft rubs on his back.

As soon as he felt an ounce of relief, Patton broke the hug and took a deep breath, after muttering an apology.

« I don't know what's happening. To me, or in general. » he sighed, a hand touching his forehead while he looked down.

Since they had basically been ignoring each other, he was expecting a remark, he thought he was going to tell him he was an idiot and it was his fault, he would have believed that.

Instead, Logan nodded. « That's perfectly understandable. »

Patton looked up at him in confusion and disbelief. « How? »

A humming sound escaped the mage's throat. « How about you describe what is bothering you? »

« Uh. » he was looking at the sky, but focusing on his thoughts. « It's like I'm in a cage. Everybody's telling me what to do, what to wear, how to act. Or who I have to talk to. » he looked Logan in the eyes. « When was even the last time talked properly? » his azure irises darkened in a greyish color. « I feel like I have no friends anymore. »

Logan's heart sank at the words, he knew he was included in that group and he couldn't help but feel ashamed for accepting the distance they suddenly began to keep, instead of doing something about it.

« It is only normal that you're getting badly affected by the situation. Look at yourself, » Patton lifted his hands to observe them. « you're clearly stressed out. Are you getting enough sleep? » there were so many questions he wanted to ask. They barely saw each other out of meals.

« Do I, they expect me to be asleep the moment they escort me to my chamber. »

One problem less ticked off of Logan's mental list.

« We both know your drinking and eating schedules are practically perfect, so I guess this is partially about pressure. Everything at once. »

« Yeah, it's mostly because of this “perfect” you said. Everyone expects me to be perfect, my parents- »

« That's it! » Logan abruptly interrupted, pointing a finger towards the sky, a knowing smile making his way through his face. He dropped the objects he was carefully putting away in his bag.

« Uh? I barely finished … »

« Listen. Don't you think your parents are a bit … too much into this? They have started preparations way ahead of time, they can't stop talking about the wedding's details when neither you nor Roman reached adulthood yet. It seems to me that they want this more than you do. To the point that they don't care about your feelings. » the words tasted sour in his mouth, talking badly about your king and queen wasn't exactly the main topic in a kingdom, but he saw the prince slowly nod in agreement.

It wasn't the first time he had noticed that, either.

« My feelings … yeah, they're definitely messed up. » he found the will to giggle.

After a beat, Logan continued with his reasoning « I can't honestly believe you forgot my most important lessons. » he looked away to open the only vial that was lying on the ground and poured a drop of its content on a dying withered flower that immediately blossomed in a soft pink hue. When he looked back at his friend he met a confused but pensive gaze, mixed with amazement by the little magic trick.

« You're your own person, Patton. You don't have to act like anyone but yourself. Break free of those puppet strings, they're not unbreakable. You can be a prince in your own way. »

Patton showed him one of his brightest smiles, gaining all the inspiration he could have ever possibly asked for. He could still be himself while having lessons or while in front of other nobility members.

« You're right! » he beamed, getting confidently on his feet. He felt like he could take on the world by himself. « Plus, how much can they go against a prince? »

Logan rolled his eyes. « As much as they like if he starts getting full of himself. »

« Aw, come on, I was just kidding. »

They made their way towards the castle's ballroom, while catching up on the things they had been up to in the past year.

Time, of course, flew by in an instant and they were already facing the entrance of the ballroom. They stopped in their tracks.

Patton turned to the magician. « I don't know if a “thank you” is enough. But I appreciate that you didn't reject me being all emotional. » he then shrugged with a small smile. « Sometimes I get overwhelmed by the smallest things. »

Logan shook his head. « You don't have to thank me. I only helped a friend in need. »

The prince almost jumped in joy at the label, it was a sign their relationship wasn't destroyed by outer circumstances, which was what Patton had feared the most. How could he have gotten such an amazing friend? He felt the desire to surround himself with more people like him.

« And remember, if you don't understand something, write it down. Only then it might become clearer. » the seer shared one of the most important pieces of information he could give in order to prevent future breakdowns anytime soon.

Patton considered carefully his words as if he had just found out a glowing treasure, then nodded. « Will do. » he made to turn away, placing his hand on the door's handle.

« Sorry for forgetting what you taught me! » he apologized with a sheepish grin. Logan only chuckled and started to step away, when he got called again.

« And Lo? » he gave him his full attention and suddenly found Patton's hand on his arm.

Patton gazed deeply in his dark eyes. « Please, talk to me more. »

And just like that, he disappeared into the room, resuming his dance lesson with a lighter feeling in his chest.

It was the moment in which Logan felt a colder spot where the prince's hand once was and his cheeks burning red that he decided he hated feelings even more.

At eighteen Patton understood that he could be a bit freer, but his parents wouldn't let it slide so easily. At least not without some guilt trip or psychological pressure.

King, queen, prince and seer (who had also become their personal adviser since they didn't find a way to get rid of him) were sitting on a carriage, seemingly talking about topics of no relevance. But one would know better than believe aristocrats didn't measure their every word, sticking hidden meanings or snide remarks in sentences here and there.

It was their charm, how they could hold a conversation while talking about something completely different.

« Did you hear about this? They say that Roman kid had already caught up with his lost lessons in less than two years, isn't that a prodigy? » their favorite topic was throwing Patton down with their “oh-so-perfect” examples.

They always told him so many things about him, things he wasn't even sure were entirely true. So many voices went around castles. Ever since Arcadia's prince came back, he had been in everyone's words and minds.

Of course, Patton's parents used all the information they could get, thinking they could have been able to attach those puppet strings back to his body.

They tried and sometimes they succeeded in grazing even just slightly his self-worth.

Self-esteem issues weren't late to the party as well.

Patton noticed a pattern in the arguments: they would find anything that didn't please them, blame him and eventually start to criticize him. His looks, his behavior, his intelligence, either the first thing they saw or the first thought that came to their mind.

Initially he apologized as much as it felt fake. But he didn't like lying every time there was a fight, though doing the opposite made the situation worse.

His parents would get frustrated by his silence, the yelling would increase for minutes until they got tired and gave up on him.

So Patton only stared at the marble pavement, his eyes danced around its colored details, a blank expression surrounded his face; when they finally let him free he'd only run back to his room.

After that there were two different outcomes: one would simply picture him crying to let out all of the horrible things they told him, as if he could shake them off and forget about it.

The other would display him lying down with a weird feeling in his guts. It was something that mixed with wanting to fight someone and wanting to fight himself. As if he deserved to feel pain. But the only thing he allowed himself was to think of all the remarks he could have done, if only they didn't make the situation worse.

Many could wonder how he managed to endure the whole thing. Patton had the kindness of his servants to get him through the day, the food they sneaked in every time he left during meals because he couldn't just bear it.

And he had a best friend he could rely on anytime he wanted or needed to vent. Especially when he saved him from annoying situations.

The conversation between his parents continued, their eulogy towards Roman never seemed to stop.

Patton breathed out slow and deep through his nose, he knew the last thing he needed was a reminder of his inferiority complex when he was on his way to Roman.

The funny thing about it was that he couldn't even blame Roman for how he felt, on the contrary the boy was always so sweet and welcoming. It was more how everybody portrayed him to be the perfect prince he could never achieve.

« On the topic of talents. » Logan, the foretold savior, spoke only after giving a sidelong glance to the younger boy.

The sovereigns immediately shut their conversation to Patton's relief.

« Since we are second in prosperity to Arcadia, I was thinking we should value our people more. » he had them hanging on his every word. « Maybe we should organize some kind of event that aims at that specific goal. »

The two adults' faces lit up, ideas flowing in their minds. Every argument on how to somehow be better than Arcadia was valid for both of them, it was the perfect diversion.

« We definitely agree. Please do tell us what you have in mind. »

Instead of going off with one of his explanations, (that often became monologues), he turned to Patton.

« What about you? Would you like that? » a faint smile crossed the prince's lips, ignoring the voices in his mind that said “How can he give his opinion? He understands nothing of it!”

« I would love that, Logan. » he nodded. « It would be ideal for our people to stand out in their specialties. I'd want to know if the best poems ever written belonged to one of our humble and simple villagers. » he stopped looking out the window to glance at his parents' shocked expressions, their mouths left hung open upon hearing his valid opinion. Suddenly they didn't have anything to remark.

He felt something very similar to pure bliss. Then he shifted his gaze to Logan. « Don't you think? »

Pride glimmered in the magician's eyes. « Exactly my thought. We could also participate or just watch, if so you desire. »

« Thank you for your suggestion! » Patton smiled even wider and Logan knew that he also silently thanked him for the attention.

After Logan finished displaying his idea, the sovereigns kept quiet for the whole trip to Arcadia's castle and Patton couldn't have been any more glad about it.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

How could he have been such an idiot?

Hopes and dreams, fake abstract concepts made up only to ruin people's expectations.

What was hope? It only meant relate to the future in a way that will eventually result in experiencing anxiety and anguish, whether it is a happy future you're looking for or a negative outcome that you're fearing. It is never something that helps you relax, but it keeps you in a restless mood, always unsettled because you know you're waiting for something and you're paying very much attention to it.

It is as if you're waiting for a delivery that has even the infinitesimal possibility to get lost into the nothingness. Or waiting for a person that promised to come back, a promise that has a high percent chance to be broken anyway.

But your hopes get in the way and erase any pessimistic belief, without realizing you're actually deteriorating yourself. With hope comes illusion and after that you're only left with pain.

Growing up, Virgil learnt to take nothing for granted and have very little trust in all the people who presented themselves in front of him.

To say that his parting from Roman had been a hard hit for him was an understatement: ever since then, he had never been able to get close to someone just as much or have any friendship quite as strong. It didn't feel worth it anymore.

Everything constantly reminded him of Roman and he just was so tired, he wanted the world to stop.

There had been many attempts by the school's children to get him to cheer up, but every single gesture failed its goal like they weren't even trying hard enough. But they were, when he wandered in the streets the villagers would greet him with a genuine smile on their lips, Virgil would only nod at them, unimpressed by the sudden interest.

Kids had tried to play with him, offered to go spend time in the woods together, but nothing could do. It reminded him too much of him and their memories were the last things he wanted to experience all over again.

He was eleven when hope started to fade out and disappointment took over him, a wave of sadness brushed his feet as strange thoughts began to force themselves into his mind.

These thoughts were the ones that tried to keep him awake at night, they persuaded him to think that it was better to embrace the darkness of the night, in which none would bother him as they all drifted off to sleep.

At first they scared him, so much he tried to scream to throw them away, panic didn't help his breathing problems and every other night his parents were kneeling down in his room, trying to steady him in every possible way.

At twelve, things were getting impossibly worse, because he couldn't help but comply to those musings. The first time, he found himself getting up from the small mattress, a myriad of thoughts screaming at him, so much that he preferred to stay silent, afraid that if he were to part his lips the harshness of howl-like shrieks would escape his mouth and leave him with little to no voice. The second time, he was found deadly still, bloodshot stapled open eyes, in front of the village's town hall at five in the morning by a pair of very concerned and frightened parents.

At thirteen night didn't exist anymore and the fair skin under his eyes slowly faded into a dark and purple-ish tone, he decided it was not worth to have those oniric impossible encounters in dreams or nightmares, even if his sleep deprivation did quite help making the unreal look real during his waking hours. His daylight hallucinations.

He had stopped talking at all, only considering someone when he really thought it necessary, scared they could catch him interacting with the unreal, unable to tell one from the other.

At fourteen he had visited all the doctors and magicians his family could reach, and at times their solutions were too … expensive. Out of the eight of them, there was one that stuck with Virgil, his words often played in his head as a reminder that, yes, something was definitely wrong with him. He couldn't remember his full name, something with Emile … was it? He was the only one that talked about his head. His mind; Emile's eyes had glowed, a light that made him look quite mischievous, though he truly was kind-hearted, and Virgil felt like he was piercing through his soul.

He had told him it was a mess, inside his mind. Virgil could have sworn he had heard a crack in his voice, as if he had been about to cry or needed consolation, after feeling how he did daily; but then again his reality was fake most of the time.

At fifteen the tables turned. Most of the villagers just chose to avoid him. Even if bullying didn't exist in his school, his classmates would have been too scared to approach him. A little part of him was glad he could occupy his mind with all the issues that rained down on him at once, so that he could shove his oldest problem in the deepest part of his heart and never think about it again.

It had been five years.

He couldn't say he was always successful, the best case scenario displayed a train of different thoughts that would suppress the topic he didn't want to think about. But other times … the outcome would destroy his mind.

He had never gotten angry at Roman for disappearing into the void.

He couldn't help but put the blame on himself; for god knows what reason why, he started feeling like Roman had now found better people, what if they had been friends out of pity? Sure, they were good at make-believe, and yet … Roman had never left him alone. He did feel genuine, after all.

There was too much contrast between his beliefs, but somehow he still couldn't help but crumble down in his own self-deprecation. It was none else's fault but his if he never came back. For all that he could know, by now Roman had probably already found plenty of people like him; better than him, perhaps, which wasn't that much of an impossible quest. It wasn't like he had any particular talent or was special in any way, really. Being replaced could have been just as easy even in his small little village.

He was still fifteen when he finally stepped into their forest after 5 years, for some reason he had gotten sentimental and, almost magically, his feet led him in front of the forest's entrance. He was retracing the same path they had followed the last time they were together, the sparkles caused by the sun hitting the water were already blinding his eyes as he stepped down the hill that now looked much smaller than how he remembered.

And then, the one thing that would change his life forever.

He looked at his left and that same fox from five years earlier was standing there, a cold glare piercing him through golden irises, Virgil thought he had lost his mind and the hallucinations due to lack of sleep were getting worse.

But the creature looked different, yet quite the same, he could tell it was the same one he saw, even though it seemed older.

Black fur was now added to its former colors at the base of its paws. It seemed it wanted to frighten him, but also persuade him.

Virgil held its stare, the animal didn't seem to move an inch.

« What? » he snapped, arms slightly opening in the act.

The yellow-eyed fox started pacing towards him, an elegant posture was still somehow kept in its cautious movements.

Virgil didn't take his eyes off of it, it felt like 5 years earlier: it was as if there was some sort of force tugging him in a particular direction. It was stronger than before and the lingering feeling of the animal's glare on him provoked some sort of persuasion and curiosity altogether.

The little villager just stood and watched as the creature paced forward until little to no space was left between them, then something switched in its expression after it looked around and set its focus back on Virgil with gloomy eyes.

Was it looking for Roman?

« He's not here. » Virgil wished he had said it with the most collected tone, but surprisingly found his voice cracked as if it had been smashed through a thousand palaces. It sounded rough, colliding with the ethereal aura of the place. The fox tilted its head slightly.

« What are you waiting for? It's not like he will come back. » another crash, he felt himself rapidly break down like most of the times when he listened to the thoughts screaming and raging in his head. He let his burning eyes fall to the ground and close, as the dark corners of his mind took completely over him.

« … ever. He won't- » his breath hitched and when he opened his eyes again he was on the ground, almost at eye-level with the pitying creature. He looked at his hands in terror, they were trembling visibly, his breathing grew shorter, sharp, but never like those wheezes he learnt to recognize. This was something else. How long had it been since he had last spoken to someone?

This was worse. So much worse.

His fingers brushed his cheek to find it soaking in overflowing tears already making their way on his skin; he digged his hands in his hair as to hold on for dear life. He hated when this happened. He had no control over himself, he felt hopeless, more helpless than usual, rationality flew out of his body, it was as if all of his feelings had smashed the button of “overload”, while a clutching sensation weighted down his stomach.

His mind raced between flashbacks of his childhood, belittling himself, the urge to just give up and lie down forever until someone would eventually pick him up and live his life in his place.

He was completely huddled on himself when he felt something soft trying to make its way through his limbs, as if it wanted him to relax his body and get his arms away from his face. Virgil had no choice but to comply and let the fox … help him? He felt too weak to care about what was happening anyway.

When the animal started brushing its head against Virgil's hand, he suddenly remembered about one of the doctors' suggestion; he opened his eyes and focused on his surroundings.

Five things he could see. The green blades of grass, the glimmering lake, those funny shaped clouds, the trees all around him and the fox by his side. He took another deep breath that he let out from the mouth.

Four things he could touch. The lightweight of his simple clothes, the soles of his shoes, his bangs brushing his forehead and the soft fur through his fingers. He closed his eyes.

Three things he could hear. Birds flying out of their nests to get some food for their nestlings, his rapid breath slowing down, little fishes occasionally jumping out of the lake and then back on the water.

Two things he could smell. The flowers that had started blossoming in that period, the simple essence of the forest's nature.

One thing he could taste. Oh. Had he eaten yet today?

His evened out and steady breathing had him finally relaxed, he kind of felt a smile tugging at his lips for some reason, maybe it was the comfort of the little animal, maybe because he finally got a hold of himself.

But while he pet the unusual friend, there was something he didn't notice. Someone he didn't see, but that could see him. It was somewhere Virgil had never reached. One of the deepest parts of the forest.

The man grinned in his dark room while the only source of light was a cloud of magic smoke in front of him, beaming with the picture of Virgil sitting on the grass and smiling at the fox.

The brightness touched his face with delicacy, yet you could make out the details of it with simplicity.

Like the burnt skin on the left side of his face that made it look like little scales were all over his cheek. Or the literal glowing, bright yellow eyes that slowly turned into a mild shade of white as the vision and smoke both faded away.

The man in the dark smirked.

« Perfect. »

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[rapuvdayear]

1994: “Intro” The Notorious B.I.G. (Bad Boy/Arista)

Strap in, this is going to be a long post (even by my standards). Like, more than 5000 words long.

In the annals of rap history, there are certain periods that are just plain loaded. For example, between 1986 and 1988, Public Enemy, Run-DMC, Boogie Down Productions, the Beastie Boys, Eric B. & Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick, Too $hort, and NWA all released absolute classics that not only redefined the genre, but have become touchstones for the rappers who followed them. 1992-1996 boasts a similar embarrassment of riches: The Chronic, Doggystyle, Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), The Infamous, Soul Food, All Eyez On Me, The Score, Ridin’ Dirty, and ATLiens, among many, many more. Smack dab in the middle of that run, 1994 was arguably the apex of rap’s golden era. In any other year, The Diary would’ve taken the crown as the best/most important album. But Scarface’s opus gets unfairly ignored because 1994 also saw two releases that appear on any serious (read: not trolling) all-time top ten list, and are perennially in greatest-ever discussions. I already covered Nas’s Illmatic back in April. And today, we celebrate the 25th anniversary of Christopher Wallace’s debut, Ready To Die.

Properly assessing Biggie’s impact and legacy is a near impossible task. No other rapper has burned as brightly for so brief a period. After doing a nine-month bid in North Carolina for crack dealing as a 19-year-old, he was featured in The Source’s Unsigned Hype column—back when it was the still rap’s undisputed publication of record—off the strength of a now-infamous demo tape, a recognition that also helped launch the careers of Eminem, DMX, Common, and others. Big’s come up after The Source nod was similar to that of his contemporaries, like Nas, in that he stole the show on a couple of posse cuts. But while Nas went the “lyrically lyrical” route for a time and, with Illmatic, made an album featuring a Who’s Who of boom bap era producers, Big’s style was harder to pin down. He recorded just two official full-length albums, and only Ready To Die was released during his lifetime; in fact, Ready to Die is now officially older than Big was at the time of his murder, a crime that is still unsolved (and if that’s not a depressing statement about rap, violence, and blackness in America, I don’t know what is). His debut was recorded at a time when the West coast g-funk aesthetic was dominant, and East coast rap still meant “NYC,” which was primarily divided into two camps: the Timbs-and-hoodies style of the so-called New School rappers who could trace their lineages back to the Def Jam superstars of the 80s and Queensbridge’s Juice Crew, and the more “alternative” and Afrocentric stylings of the Native Tongues clique (there was also Wu-Tang, who combined elements of both but were also just weird as fuck). Ready To Die, in this sense, is much more representative of the Timbs-and-hoodies crowd, but it also paved the way toward a much more introspective, darker style of rap focused on violence and material wealth in equal measures that would become the standard in New York for the remainder of the decade. It’s a gangsta rap record with a boom bap sound. And though Biggie was certainly no slouch on the mic—his internal rhyme schemes are complex, and his flow is versatile—he didn’t need to rap fast or sound like he’d memorized a thesaurus in order to distinguish himself, either. His greatest strengths were his lovable-yet-dangerous personality, bawdy sense of humor, and unparalleled skill as a storyteller, which he would showcase to even greater effect on 1997’s Life After Death. Add everything up, and it makes perfect sense why Big is remembered as one of the—if not the—best to ever do it: he emerged at the peak of the golden era, but was also an originator rather than an imitator.

The 2Pac beef, East Coast-West Coast war, and “playas vs. thugs” dichotomy in mainstream 90s rap have all been broken down in painstaking detail elsewhere, with conspiracy theories lurking around every corner (for anyone interested, I think that the best resource for understanding those stories and where Biggie, Pac, and LAPD corruption fit into it all is this 2001 Randall Sullivan article in Rolling Stone). Separating history from hagiography is tough enough in a culture that is built on braggadocio; no rapper worth their salt has ever “let the truth get in the way of a good yarn.” But Biggie’s tall tale/folk hero status is on a different level, arguably even more so than Pac’s, with whom he will forever be linked. Much of that is due to the fact that his career was so short and his talent so undeniable; as distasteful as it is to admit, Biggie’s legacy undoubtedly benefited from his early passing, leaving us with two outstanding, classic albums and a handful of loosies, guest appearances, and posthumous compilations that continue to fuel speculation about the heights that he could have reached. Just as Jimi never made an experimental jazz guitar album and Otis never made disco, Big never recorded Nastradamus or Kingdom Come.

In the final analysis, Biggie’s career is defined by death, but not necessarily his own. Many have observed that the title of his debut album, Ready To Die, was, in a way, a foreshadow of things to come, and that the second, Life After Death, serves as a chilling acknowledgement of what occurred just two weeks before its release. But on a deeper level, a careful listen to both records reveals Biggie’s obsession with death: what he sees happening around him, the ways in which he might die—possibly even by his own hand—and the unanswerable question of whether or not death is the end. Behind all of the jokes, tales of sexual escapades, and reflections on how enjoyable the playa lifestyle can be, at its heart Ready To Die is extremely nihilistic.

That nihilism begins with the cover art, which along with The Chronic is the first rap album cover I can remember noticing. Despite what Nas and Raekwon may think, Ready To Die’s cover probably owes more to Nevermind than it does Illmatic: Nas’s childhood photo laminated over the Queensbridge housing projects on his debut evokes nostalgia for his roots; Ready To Die, on the other hand, is a bleak statement about being born a black man in America. Here’s this cute baby with an afro and a diaper set against a stark white background, and we the viewers are invited to wonder what his future holds. In other words, the point is that every American black male is born “ready to die” because that’s what the statistics tell us (in actuality, the photo model is alive and well). As an 11-year-old American white male from rural Maine, this was completely lost on me at the time. Looking back on it now, I can’t help but feel goosebumps.

The cover also simply yet effectively communicates the album’s narrative arc, such that there is one. Ready To Die isn’t a concept album by any means, but it does chart the life of Christopher Wallace from the womb to the tomb, so to speak. The first sounds we hear on the intro are a heartbeat, a woman in labor, her partner urging her to push, and then a baby crying. The last sounds are of a gunshot, a body falling to the floor, a voice on the other end of the line pleading, and a heartbeat slowing to a stop. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go through it track-by-track; this is one album that is all killer, no filler.

Intro (link above): This is a classic rap album trope: the introductory skit that establishes where the rapper is coming from, sort of like a superhero’s origin story. Maybe this is symptomatic of having recently been listening to only mid-to-late 90s rap, but it seems to me that these sorts of intros used to be more common than they are now. There’s no actual rapping here. Instead we get something very similar to “The Genesis” on Illmatic, a mashup of different iconic sounds from “the culture.” Whereas for Nas it was an excerpt from Wild Style followed by a skit over that movie’s theme, Biggie’s intro is more personal, and more comprehensive in terms of situating him in a time and a place. It begins with Christopher Wallace’s birth in 1972 over the sounds of “Superfly,” followed by an argument between Biggie’s parents about his antics that turns quickly to violent threats while “Rapper’s Delight” (1979)—the birth of rap, officially-unofficially—plays, then Big and a friend discussing a plan to rob subway passengers set to “Top Billin’” (1987), and finally Big being taunted by a corrections officer as he’s released from prison and Snoop’s “Tha Shiznit” (1993) can be heard in the background (this last part is definitely pure fiction; Big’s only recorded stint inside was back in 1991). The point of the narrative is obvious, but the musical choices are also significant. Biggie was part of an emerging generation of rappers who could still remember a time before rap, but who also grew up alongside the genre, their lives’ milestones scored by a soundtrack featuring the likes of The Sugarhill Gang, Audio Two, and Snoop. By 1994, rap itself had changed several times over already, and with Biggie’s entry it was set to change again. This theme continues on the next track…

Things Done Changed: First of all, this is one of the few songs I can think of that takes full advantage of stereo sound as the beat jumps from right to left and back again before the first harmonies kick in. In college, my friends and I used to love driving around with Ready To Die in the tape deck and performing a ritual of sorts to this opening, nodding our heads and pointing to the speakers on one side of the car and then the other (Side note: after college when I moved to Prague, a group of friends rented a car one night for the express purpose of driving around the city and listening to this album in its entirety. We actually got pulled over when we accidentally found ourselves in a Czech police extortion trap and had to bribe our way out, but that’s another story…). “Things Done Changed” is exactly what the title declares: a mix of Biggie waxing nostalgic about the bygone days of his Brooklyn childhood and communicating the harsh reality of post-crack NYC. The “back in the day” rap is another trope, but whereas previous examples like The Pharcyde’s “Passin’ Me By” (1992), Pete Rock and CL Smooth’s “T.R.O.Y.” (1992), and even Nas’s “Memory Lane” (1994) all are accompanied by production that emphasizes the slow, sweet, happy remembrances of things past, “Things Done Changed”—with samples from 70s funk group The Main Ingredient—sounds downright foreboding. The message is that there’s no time to lament the past because it’s over and done with and the future is anything but certain. As if this point weren’t clear enough, the Dr. Dre sample on the chorus—“Remember they used to thump? But now they blast, right?”—and Biggie’s appeal to his contemporaries—“Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day/ But you don’t hear me though”—eliminate any sense of ambiguity. There are so many great Biggie lines sprinkled throughout (e.g., “And we coming to the wake/ To make sure the crying and commotion ain’t a motherfucking fake”; “Back in the days our parents used to take care of us/ Look at ‘em now, they even fuckin’ scared of us”; and “The streets is a short stop/ Either you slingin’ crack rock or you got a wicked jump shot,” which incidentally was quoted in the cringeworthiest way possible in 2000’s Boiler Room), but one in particular stands out to me: “It make me wanna grab the 9 and the shotty/ But I gotta go identify the body.” A former roommate of mine always loved this part because it encapsulates not just Biggie’s moral dilemma, but in many ways the definitive contradictions of gangbanging and the drug trade: I’m so angry and in pain that I want to visit extreme violence upon the world, but at the same time I have to deal with the fallout of the violence around me in the most intimate of ways. Did I mention already that this album is nihilistic to the core?

Gimme The Loot: This song will always hold a special place in my memory. It was either this or Snoop’s version of “Lodi Dodi” that was the first rap I memorized word for word. In high school, my friends and I used to go out to the cross-country running trails after school to, uh, do what burnouts do, and more often than not would end up reciting “Gimme The Loot” in its entirety at the top of our lungs (I hope that we changed all the ****** to “suckas” or something…). Biggie voices two characters, both plotting small-scale robberies with grotesque levels of passion. For real, some of the lyrics for the album version had to be censored because, well, this: “I don’t give a fuck if you’re pregnant/ Give me the baby ring and the #1 mom pendant.” “Gimme The Loot” is also a perfect example of Big’s style: it’s played for laughs, but the subject matter is darker than dark. I like to think of this as a companion piece to “****** Bleed” from Life After Death—my all-time favorite Biggie track—which is about a much more ambitious robbery that is also full of jokes. In line with the album’s theme, “Gimme The Loot” ends with Big presumably dying in a hail of bullets during a shootout with the cops, “a true motherfucker going out for the loot.”

Machine Gun Funk: Ooh, this beat! As anyone who follows this account already knows, one of my favorite things about rap is how much great music I’ve been introduced to via samples. In this case, “Something Extra” by 70s funk band Black Heat. Easy Mo Bee, who produced this and five other tracks on Ready To Die, doesn’t get the acclaim of contemporaries like DJ Premier, Pete Rock, or Large Professor. But his bona fides are solid—coming up with the Juice Crew—and his work on this album is spectacular. As with “Gimme The Loot,” some of the lyrics in the second verse censored: “For the jackers, the jealous-ass crackers in the blue suits/ I’ll make you prove that it’s bulletproof.” This was, after all, around the time that NWA and Ice-T had provoked outrage—and FBI investigations!—for their anti-police lyrics. “Machine Gun Funk”’s overall gist is summed up in one line: “I’m doing rhymes now, fuck the crimes now.” In other words, Big is just as hard as he was on the ascent, but he’s transcended that life now and is making bank from rap. It’s another well-worn trope that’s become almost obligatory for rappers to talk about now.

Warning: Another funky Easy Mo Bee beat, this time with an Isaac Hayes sample. Biggie relates a story of being awakened early in the morning by a friend who has gotten wind that his enemies are plotting his demise (he also shouts out fellow Brooklynites M.O.P., which is a nice touch!). He demonstrates his capacity for catchy internal rhymes—“They heard about the Rolexes and the Lexus/ With the Texas license plates out of state/ They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown/ And they heard you got half Virginia locked down”—and penchant for clever metaphors—“There’s gonna be a lot of slow singin’ and flower bringin’/ If my burglar alarm starts ringin’”; “The criminals, tryna drop my decimals.” There’s also the continuation of the “ready to die” theme with a depressing statement about trust and paranoia: “It’s the ones that smoke blunts witcha, see your picture/ Now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha.” “Warning” ends with a darkly funny skit of sorts that leads right into the next track…

Ready To Die: I mean, it’s right there in the title: this is the entire album in a nutshell. Big is defiant here and completely nihilistic: “My shit is deep, deeper than my grave, G/ I’m ready to die, and nobody can save me/ Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl/ My life is played out like a Jheri curl, I’m ready to die!” And why all the violence? It’s simple, really, a means to an end: “Shit is real, and hungry’s how I feel/ I rob and steal because that money got that whip appeal.” This Easy Mo Bee beat is appropriately eerie, too, flipping the organ from blaxploitation film score legend Willie Hutch’s “Hospital Prelude Of Love Theme.” “Warning” ends with Puffy reciting “Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep,” similar to how he would start “You’re Nobody (‘Til Somebody Kills You)” on Life After Death with the 23rd Psalm: both are prayers about death and the afterlife.

One More Chance: This was one of the tracks that Big recorded during the second half of the Ready To Die sessions at Puffy’s urging. While Big allegedly didn’t want to make any concessions to commercial tastes, being the ever-calculating businessman that he is, Puff encouraged him to include a few tracks that weren’t just about robbing and killing. As such, the tone here is a little different from the album up to this point. However, it does give Big a chance to explore another of his signature topics and themes: sex, but in the lewdest way possible (I mean, he raps about shifting kidneys, shattering bladders, and “fuck[ing] her ‘til her nose bleed”). As my friend Jason pointed out to me recently, the skit in the intro is more interesting than it would appear at first, too. Ostensibly, it’s recordings of women on Big’s answering machine who he’s ghosted. However, the second caller doesn’t seem to be someone he’s slept with, but rather a female friend chiding him for being inconsiderate. Who knows whether this is meaningful or not, but maybe just maybe it’s a small subversion of the “g’s up, hoes down” mantra pervading rap? Eh, it’s a stretch. “One More Chance” was remixed and released as a single in 1995, becoming one of Big’s biggest hits. The original version is far superior, though, IMHO. Another minor note: verse 2 contains a cool shout out to Houston’s Geto Boys and the “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” video, complete with the beat switching up briefly to index that song.

Fuck Me (Interlude): A skit featuring Lil’ Kim. I usually don’t like rap skits, but this one is notable for making “Oreo cookie eatin’, pickle juice drinkin’, chicken gristle eatin’, biscuit fuckin’ suckin’ … V8 juice drinkin’, Slim Fast blendin’, black greasy muthafucka” into passable dirty talk. And that’s all I have to say about that.

The What: When Nas said, “My first album had no famous guest appearances/ The outcome: I’m crowned the best lyricist” on Stillmatic, this is the song he was talking about (well, either this or “Brooklyn’s Finest”… yeah, it was probably the latter). Given how rappers have stuck to the formula of paying for the services of more accomplished figures to drive interest in their debuts, it’s a testament to Nas’s and Big’s greatness that both Illmatic and Ready To Die only had one feature apiece: AZ on “Life’s A Bitch,” and Method Man on “The What.” With all due respect to AZ, no one’s mistaking him for a “famous” guest. Meth, on the other hand, had only really been famous for a couple of years at this point, but he was far and away Wu-Tang’s breakout star and would become the first group member to drop a post-36 Chambers solo just two months later. His participation here is also unexpected given the less-famous-yet-still-potent beef that existed between Wu-Tang and Biggie. Collabos and features are often underwhelming; either the guest feels like an unnecessary afterthought, or ends up “murder[ing] you on your own shit.” In this case, though, Meth is able to keep pace with Big and vice versa. Although his chemistry with Redman is legendary and their work together was super enjoyable, “The What” makes me wonder what a Meth and Biggie full-length would have sounded like. Easy Mo Bee laces the beat with the most stonerific production on the album, a laid back, fried melody that samples the outro to Leroy Huston’s “Can’t Say Enough About Mom” (1974). It works!

Juicy: It’s funny, this used to be my least favorite track on Ready To Die, entirely because of the chorus, which I thought was too “soft.” But now that I’m older, I appreciate its anthem-ness and the funky-ass Mtume sample. “Juicy” was, of course, the album’s lead single, but it was recorded toward the end of the sessions because Puff realized that they needed a radio-ready hit if Biggie was going to be a success. As a result, it’s the most discordant track on the album because of its uplifting tone, message of positivity, and nothing in the lyrics about death or dying. Along with “Things Done Changed,” this is the most autobiographical song on Ready To Die. And it’s chock full of quotables: “Time to get paid/ Blow up like the World Trade” (which has subsequently been censored in post-9/11 radio versions); “Spread love, it’s the Brooklyn way”; “Considered a fool cuz I dropped out of high school” (that one always resonated with me, haha); “Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis/ When I was dead broke, man, I couldn’t picture this” (which sounds hilarious now as far as stunting goes); “Birthdays was the worst days/ Now we sip champagne when we thirstay.” Also like “Things Done Changed,” “Juicy” is a nod to the past—the first verse is basically a list of 80s rap influencers—while signaling that a paradigm shift is happening; when Big says, “You never thought that hip-hop would take it this far,” he means for both himself and for the genre as a whole. He probably would have been a star anyway without “Juicy,” but its inclusion on Ready To Die definitely helped drive his early mainstream appeal.

Everyday Struggle: This anthem is still relevant today. They wouldn’t be brave enough (or stupid enough, depending on your perspective) to actually do it, but Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders could totally use this as a campaign song in 2020. The name of the game here is “precarity” and the choices people make just to survive. The sample, from Dave Grusin’s cheesy 80s jazz composition “Either Way” (1980), starts off in a vaporwavish muffle that makes the intro sound like a classic TV theme song. And then immediately we’re vaulted back into Biggie’s bleak, nihilistic take on contemporary life, and his suicidal ideations (a foreshadowing of things to come…): “I don’t wanna live no more/ Sometimes I hear death knocking at my front door/ I’m living everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle/ Another day, another struggle.” The whole song is about drug dealing, but it’s not all glorification: Big makes it quite clear that a) violence and the possibility (inevitability?) of death are ever-present, and b) it is an endeavor that is fundamentally about preying on one’s community. As he puts it, “Baggin’ five at a time/ I can clock about nine on the check cashin’ line/ I had the first and the third rehearsed, that’s my word,” all of which is to say that he had a clear understanding of the temporal rhythms of government assistance, wage payments, and the financial habits of the unbanked. It’s less of a lament than what appears in other rappers’ odes to “the game,” but I think it’d be remiss to ignore his discomfort with being a participant in an activity that clearly destroys lives and neighborhoods.

Me & My Bitch: Woooooo, talk about a problematic song! This is Kevin Gates before Kevin Gates. On the one hand, you could make a legitimate case for “Me & My Bitch” being the most romantic gangsta rap song ever (which is saying something in and of itself). On the other hand, Big would definitely be cancelled in 2019 for this. The opening line is classic Biggie humor: “I’ll admit when I first saw you my thoughts was a trip/ You looked so good, huh, I’d suck on your daddy’s dick.” But it soon devolves into your run-of-the-mill rap misogyny: “When the time is right, the wine is right/ I treat you right; you talk slick, I beat you right.” It’s all a fantasy—AFAIK Big never had a romantic relationship like the one depicted here—that’s the textbook definition of “ride or die.” Emphasis on “die” because that’s where the song ends up (because of course it does, this is Ready To Die after all). At first, Big tells us, “And if I deceive, she won’t take it lightly/ She’ll invite me, politely, to fight, G/ And then we lie together, cry together/ I swear to God I hope we fuckin’ die together,” which say what you will, that’s kind of a sweet sentiment. But alas, he doesn’t get his wish, as his lover is gunned down by his enemies, collateral in a war against him. Again, his eulogy for her is also kind of sweet, in a perverse way: “It didn’t take long before the tears start/ I saw my bitch dead with a gunshot to the heart/ And I know it was meant for me/ I guess the ****** felt they had to kill the closest one to me/ And when I find ‘em, your life is to an end/ They killed my best friend.”

Big Poppa: Another of the more radio-friendly, Puffy-inspired tracks, and consequently one of the album’s biggest hits (and second single). This is also the closest the Ready To Die comes to emulating 1994’s pop rap zeitgeist as the production on “Big Poppa” is clearly g-funk, complete with a high-pitched synthesizer straight out of Dre’s toolkit. It’s quite the contrast with the previous track, going from “ghetto soap opera” to “big willie playa fantasy.” Overall, “Big Poppa” is solid club song. Also, did Biggie invent the “weird flex” with this line: “A t-bone steak, cheese, eggs, and Welch’s grape”?

Respect: This one’s a nod to Biggie’s Jamaican roots, and introduces another chapter in the autobiography established through “Things Done Changed” and “Juicy.” “Respect” features Jamaican reggae/dancehall singer Diana King on the hook and reggae-ish beat from Poke of the Trackmasters that interpolates KC & The Sunshine Band’s “I Get Lifted” (1975). Even here Biggie pushes the “ready to die” theme as he narrates his birth!: “Umbilical cord wrapped around my neck/ I’m seein’ my death, and I ain’t even took my first step.” Verse 2 contains some more reflection on the uncertainties of the drug game: “Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn’t see it/ Scarface, King of New York, I wanna be it/ Rap was secondary, money was necessary/ Until I got incarcerated, kinda scary/ … Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail?/ All the money I stacked was all the money for bail.”

Friend Of Mine: Easy Mo Bee does it again! Another of my favorite beats on Ready To Die. This one’s mostly Biggie-style sexual humor, similar to “One More Chance” only funkier and more misogynistic. It’s Big’s version of “g’s up, hoes down” or “Scandalouz.” The double standard regarding male and female promiscuity is in full effect. Even so, there’s a cleverness to the lyrics; Big’s descriptions are just plain different from other rappers’ (side note: the same argument can be made for Gucci Mane): “I don’t give a bitch enough to catch the bus/ And when I see the semen, I’m leavin’”; “Now I play her far like a moon play a star.”

Unbelievable: Scoring a DJ Premier beat for your album in the 90s was basically confirmation that you were someone worth paying attention to. Nas did it with Illmatic, and Big pulled the legendary producer’s card for this, the final track recorded for Ready To Die. Premo even gave Big a discount, charging him less than his usual fee because he’d gone overbudget already! The sample, from The Honeydrippers’ “Impeach The President” (1973), is well-traveled territory in rap, having been sampled in dozens of songs already by that point. “Unbelievable”’s content is mostly just Biggie boasting about his greatness at all things. And you’ve gotta respect the audacity of sampling yourself, from another song on the same album, giving yourself props (“Biggie Smalls is the illest!”). Even without a clear narrative or any deeper message, “Unbelievable” is a showcase of Biggie’s range of technical skills from internal rhymes—“And those that rushes my clutches get put on crutches/ Get smoked like Dutches”—to sly metaphors—“I got three hundred and fifty-seven ways/ To simmer sauté”—and original adjectives—“car weed-scented.” Big and Premier would link up again on Life After Death for two of that album’s standouts—“Kick In The Door” and “Ten Crack Commandments”—but three tracks still feels like far too few for such a potent combination.

Suicidal Thoughts: Dear lord, what an ending! If you doubted that Ready To Die was nihilistic up to this point, “Suicidal Thoughts” leaves no question as to the tone that Big intended. This is my second favorite of Biggie’s songs, and IMHO his most poignant. I almost feel as if he invented emo-rap here, letting the listener into his tortured psyche in a way that only Pac and Eminem have even come close to imitating. I’ve written about this track and my fondness for it already, naming it my “rap of the year” for 1994. The overall concept is Big calling up Puff to deliver what amounts to a suicide note. As Puffy pleads with him not to go through with it, Biggie enumerates all of the reasons that he’s “a piece of shit, it ain’t hard to fucking tell” and why the world would be better off without him: his criminal escapades, his sense that he’d let down his loved ones, his lies and infidelity. The key passages: “All my life I been considered as the worst/ Lyin’ to my mother, even stealin’ out her purse/ Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion/ I know my mother wish she got a fuckin’ abortion/ She don’t even love me like she did when I was younger/ Suckin’ on her chest just to stop my fuckin’ hunger/ I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?/ Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies”; “People at the funeral frontin’ like they miss me/ My baby mama kiss me, but she glad I’m gone/ She know me and her sister had somethin’ goin’ on.” Additionally, this is one of the things that truly separates Big from Pac when it comes to their musings on death and the afterlife: while Pac rapped about heaven and “thugz mansion,” Big seemed convinced that he was headed to hell both here and elsewhere: “When I die, fuck it, I wanna go to hell/ … It don’t make sense goin’ to heaven with the goodie-goodies/ Dressed in white; I like black Timbs and black hoodies.” If “Ready To Die” was a defiant declaration, then “Suicidal Thoughts” is Biggie proving that it was no lie, that he is, in fact, ready to pass on even if it’s his own doing. The beat is handled by Lord Finesse—another boom-bap veteran—and complements perfectly the tension that builds until the final moments: the gunshot, the thud, and the flatlining heartbeat (the sample is Miles Davis’s “Lonely Fire” (1974)).

There’s no denying Ready To Die’s place in the pantheon of rap history. People can debate whether or not it and/or Big are the greatest ever, which is fine, but ultimately meaningless. What we have here is an album that can be enjoyed on many different levels. And even if it is all about death, as with any work of art, it will live on as long as people keep listening to and loving it.

[felixtheprotector]

Veganism: Is It Enough?

Some certainly call it far fetched. But do far fetched and effective have the same connotations? This is not a debate on the health benefits or potential risks of a non meat and dairy diet but an assessment of the diet's effectiveness as an act of compassion, justice and sustainability.

I endorse and encourage veganism, however as an ecologist I am tolerant of the reality that soil, being composed of dead animals, renders the consumption of all crops a contribution to a life/death cycle. Pick what you will off the vegetable aisles but you'll never break that cycle. You just have to be humble to it and accept that somewhere down the line you are a part of it. Vegansim per sé is an ersatz term.

But there's one problem. That cycle has long been disfigured and abused by humans by means of non natural selection, our sterile environment, sedentary urban lifestyles and the advent of factory farming. To consider the role of humans in the food chain today as balanced would be delusional. Lierre Kieth who is a founding member of the Deep Green Resistance nails the history of agriculture in a couple of sentences defining agriculture as that which props up civilization, the leading cause of desertification, topsoil degradation, the sixth mass extinction in recorded natural history and runaway global warming.

These are things our Neanderthal ancestors would never have needed to worry about however the chances of mankind returning to a hunter gatherer lifestyle are slim considering that the cultivator lifestyle has been at large for over 10 000 years and resulted in the creation of farms, houses, cites and endless forms of human to human and human to non human interaction including concepts such as possession and ownership, rivalry and war.

It was at the time of reaching the top of the food chain and consuming large mammals that humans became humans, developed an indoor or in-cave lifestyle, along with it painting and draughtsmanship, oral communication and subsequently language and numerous concepts, fictions and faiths. I look at religion, art and language as the peaceful products of our genetic evolution despite the way in which religion is framed today as a causing factor of war. War itself is part of our genetic evolution... and it is all because of agriculture and the struggle for land on which to cultivate and resources with which to do so.

Fast forward to today and there are seven billion humans and well over half of them living in cities. Since supermarkets, we in the first world no longer have a relationship with our food and the more our population grows and the more animals are reared in intensive ever more urban conditions, the more detached we become from the animals. The Department of Labor in the United States considers farming a statistically insignificant occupation, less than 2% of the American population live on farms and cities are expanding worldwide. This is why we do not question the source of our food or have a relationship with our food.

A good indicator by which to measure whether or not an animal product merits the label "organic" is to judge whether or not the animal product supports life or destroys life. By eating this food are you yourself creating a hierarchy, or are you joining a web? All products are animal products but the scale on which they are produced has gone from supporting the cycle of life to destroying the cycle of life. Not only that but supermarkets and supply chains don't sell liver, brain, tongue or bone marrow. These are the animal products with which our ancestors nourished themselves and that the hunter gatherers of Africa, Asia and South America today would consider nutrient dense and naturally, these are the parts that we don't eat anymore. So to cut it out makes perfect sense. If you can't do it right, don't do it at all and if it doesn't nourish, what's the point?

Besides some fats, the nutrients humans require from animal products are barely present in the animal products of today. Put simply, eating chickens injected with chlorine or cows fed on fossil fuels, nitrogen, antibiotics and subsidised grain does not make you healthy. This is evident from the prevalence of obesity and cancer in humans as just two examples of illnesses that would have been unheard of prior to 10 000 years ago and that have risen in cases along with the expansion of fossil fuel based agriculture. 

Similarly, eating genetically modified fruit and veg sprayed with neonicotinoids and organophosphates has not made the vegan population the happy, body building crowd you see on Instagram. We call this the Green Revolution. Whether you do or don’t eat meat, humans are sick and the only thing it comes down to is the fact that we allow subsidy farming to exist and that no one has heard of the Green Revolution and no, that's not a positive term. 

You may be wondering why no one questions it. We fail to question the seemingly sacrosanct model that is agriculture because we are all under the impression that it feeds us. But we must question it in order to abolish it and this is not a far fetched call. The first steps required are reform and I'm not talking about Stalinised agrarian reform or GMOs or anything like that. I'm talking about taking permaculture to a new level where we no longer buy food from the corner but grow it on our roofs. Everyone's roofs. I'm talking about doing it underground like in Clapham Junction. Or under the sea like Nemo's Garden in Savona, Italy. I'm talking about restoring the prairies of Europe and North America and the rainforests of South America and South East Asia because North Africa and the Middle East are unrecoverable deserts again thanks to a prehistoric status quo whereby people are forced to militarise against one another in competition for ever expanding patches of land on which to cultivate.  

Veganism and permaculture are consumer based solutions and alternatives to cattle rearing. Alternatives are beautiful and so is advocating them but lifestyle and dietary adjustments are the easy way out. There's a lot more that needs to be done. As far as compassion goes I think people who oppose veganism are massively in denial but I also think it needs to go further than supermarket aisles.

In Britain we have taken to the streets to demand a commitment to zero fossil fuels from two governments over the past four years by means of four consecutive People's Climate marches and endless divestment campaigns aimed at our government and the private sector. We as a population have proven just how "over it" we are but since when has this mattered to the industry that keeps churning out crude oil and fracking out shale? Now take that reality and turn your attention to factory farming which is in itself dependent on the fossil fuel industry. This is not a cry of despair. To base one's hopes on others is an act of despair. This is a call to sabotage.

The boycott is based on a "hit em where it hurts" mentality. Or at least it used to be. Today it's more of a feel better about yourself approach which is entirely internalising and a means to withdraw from the fight itself. The boycott in its original form not only lacks the momentum of the powerful industries it claims to target today such as factory farming but the actual thought process behind the boycott has softened over the years. The question we need to ask ourselves is, "is it direct action?". When I decide to take action "am I engaging with the issue or am I walking away from it?"

It is easy to opt out of a system without attempting to dismantle it. I can go to the pub for dinner and order a mushroom burger while my five friends order hamburgers. Better yet, you can invite me to dinner and prepare a spaghetti bolognese with meatballs for my family but serve me an alternative with tofu. But what are you actually achieving? Well I'll tell you what you've achieved. You've increased the amount of food by providing not just one option but two options, therefore doubling your overall consumption and forgetting that planting soy is responsible for immeasurable habitat loss in South America, Asia and what's left of North America.

Radical environmentalism, a school of philosophy to which I pertain, requires you to be analytical and decisive and leads us away from oversimplifying our actions. What we in the environmental movement have suffered ever since Al Gore released An Inconvenient Truth is the oversimplification of our actions. That is to say the pragmatism of our actions and how realistic they are. Until the Deep Green Resistance was published in 2011 no one actually analysed how we could render our actions more decisive in taking down these industries. But we can. And we must analyse this in order to face extinction with all the tools we have and not just a bunch of ideologies based on what we buy because the one thing we cannot buy is time.

As individuals we do not have the capacity to overthrow factory farming without engaging in sabotage which is a risk to our security but a risk activists are willing to take. It is hard to support an underground resistance group without going undercover yourself. Similarly we cannot battle extinction when adhering to a system that perpetuates it. We may have to get our hands dirty and we may have to forego our own safety. Or maybe if we've got a bit of money to spare, we can help out someone else that's already forgoing their safety. So we ask ourselves... what can we do about the disappearing species?

We can focus on numbers. We can try and replenish their colonies. We can conduct rescue programmes to increase their populations. We can also be more radical and indeed we must. We can stand in the way of their perpetrators. We don't even need to break the law to sabotage the meat and dairy industry's unscientific culling of badgers in Britain. It's legal to stand in the way of the gunmen and it's effective. They cannot shoot badgers when there are people on the paths but there's one problem. There aren't enough people on those paths. So what are you waiting for? Refraining from eating animals is a commitment but protecting animals is a vocation.

In light of this I would like to introduce CoalitionWILD, a group of over forty field activists which I recently joined, each of whom are in some way tackling extinction in different parts of the world.

I firmly believe that it is commencing acts that is going to contribute to salvaging what's left of our planet and not simply refraining from acts of consumption. Two hundred species will have gone extinct by the end of today. The same thing happened yesterday. Refraining from acts of consumption or the "boycott" as we know it, is unlikely to keep up with the pace of extinction.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

Interview: FLESH OF THE VOID'S James Quinn

New Post has been published on https://www.nofspodcast.com/interview-flesh-voids-james-quinn/

Interview: FLESH OF THE VOID'S James Quinn

This is not a film. It’s not there to entertain. It’s not there to make you feel good. It is in its very core a psychological experiment. -Director James Quinn

2017’s Flesh of the Void is a terribly disturbing experimental horror feature about what it could feel like if death truly were the most horrible thing one could ever experience. Nightmare on Film Street reached out to the film’s director, James Quinn, about his choices for creating the film along with some of the intense criticisms that followed.

  NOFS: What lead you to create ‘Flesh of the Void’?

JQ: The idea for Flesh of the Void came to me completely out of nowhere, actually. It all started with the video from ‘The Ring‘. Personally, horror films never really scared or severely unsettled me. Even the hardcore ones. They excite me, and I love them, but in the end, they’re just films. At one point, the tape from ‘The Ring’ was mentioned in regards to my last film, The Law of Sodom, somebody said it reminded him of it. After that, I went on YouTube and watched the tape again. I had already seen it of course but wanted to watch it again, out of context. And it blew me away. There was just something incredibly dreadful about it, and I felt like if I wouldn’t have known it’s part of a narrative feature, it would have genuinely kept me from sleeping. It made me think, why exactly? I watched some insanely creepy deep web videos after that and came to the conclusion that the simple fact of not having the slightest bit of an idea what exactly it is that you’re watching, and knowing almost nothing about how it was created play a major role in why it’s so unsettling. That, paired with the fact that all you’re seeing seems to be a compilation of things humans deeply, horribly despise or fear. This was insanely fascinating to me, and at one point I just thought: “What if someone would actually make an entire feature like this?”. The funny thing is, the project was still supposed to be a short film at first, we were planning it to be about eight minutes long. After I realized the endless possibilities I had with it, it went on and on, until we decided it should definitely become a feature.

NOFS: Is there an over-arching message within the film?

JQ: For me, yes. I created the film with a very certain theme and thought behind it. The thing is, I will never, ever tell anybody what exactly the film means to me personally. It is such a grotesque, surreal piece of work, open to many interpretations, and I believe it is important for people to decide for themselves what the meaning and message behind it are, or if there is any at all for them. This enables everybody to have a completely different experience, to maybe see everything in a whole other way than everybody else. This is something that has always fascinated me with experimental films. The sheer endless possibilities of creating one’s own world inside a finished work of art. It is the very reason that got me into making films.

Still from Flesh of the Void

NOFS: How does ‘Flesh of the Void’ differ from past projects?

JQ: There are some similarities to my past projects in some scenes, but overall, this one is quite different. I like to always incorporate trademark elements, which I definitely did in Flesh of the Void, but generally, it differs vastly to what I’ve done up until now. It is black and white and grainy, and presented in the 4:3 aspect ratio, just like my recent short The Law of Sodom, in this case though, the visuals are completely unique, since it was shot on actual film. Not only that, I experimented heavily with expired Super 8 stock, which I developed myself, and purposely treated very carelessly, so it would get scratched and dirty. It’s not only visually different though, but also in terms of content. Some of my other films were already quite incoherent, but this film tops that. I wanted to make something completely disorienting, so some of the scenes are just single shots, there are subliminal images popping up all the time, and I extensively used the element of long single shots, making some scenes very long. The thing that I would say differs most to my other projects is that up until now, I always tried to make the films enjoyable in at least some way, and, while still being disturbing, make them actually entertaining. That was not the case this time. I wanted to make something that actually hurts, that makes you feel uncomfortable and uneasy, and completely ignored all rules I’ve ever learned about how to make a film entertaining to its audience. I don’t want to entertain in this case. I want to put people’s brains on fire.

Still from Flesh of the Void

NOFS: Why the use of Super 8 film?

JQ: Flesh of the Void was shot on three different types of film. Old, expired Super 8, which I developed myself, and experimented with visually, new, modern Super 8 stock, which was professionally developed, and 16mm. After I had developed the concept of the film a bit further, it was clear pretty early on that I couldn’t pull this off with digital cameras. You can always alter digital footage in post, make it look more rough and dirty, but nothing comes close to the feel and look of the actual film. At one point, I just bought dozens of stone old Kodachrome cartridges on eBay and started experimenting with it. The chemicals to develop this type of film don’t exist anymore, so I figured out my own way of developing it, which turned out to give it an intensely raw, and brutally grainy look. This was used to create the first third of the film. In the second third, it switches to new, modern Super 8 stock. I wanted the visuals to get clearer the further the film progresses. Normal Super 8 still had enough grain for me for it to feel intensely raw. The grain was actually accentuated in post. The last third was entirely shot on 16mm. The grain was still accentuated, so it also looks very grimy, but it’s a lot finer, which was ideal for the scenes we wanted to shoot for this part of the film. In the end, all the parts seamlessly add up, and the visuals of the film progress as it moves along. This was carefully done and has a subtle psychological effect. Which is the reason we shot on film. It would have been impossible to achieve all that digitally.

NOFS: How long has it taken to film/edit the film?

JQ: It was all one large process. We didn’t shoot the entire film at once to then go into post production, we always shot junks of it, which was then put together, to see how it adds up. It was only until that point that I actually started writing what would come next. This enabled me to go into completely different directions if something felt off. In total, this took about six months of work, excluding the experimenting I had to do with the expired Super 8 stock, which took another month right before.

NOFS: What was the budget of the film?

JQ: This is tough to answer. Because to be honest, I don’t know. Nobody wants to fund films like these, especially here in Austria, so I had to finance it myself. As the film was shot and edited in junks, I just lost track of it all at some point, and frankly, I stopped caring. I needed to finish the film, no matter what, so I always found a way to finance what was needed, even if it meant selling personal belongings. I do know that the last third cost around 10 000 since we shot it mostly in one shoot that lasted for a couple of days, and it drained me financially. Other than, I’m afraid I can’t really say much.

Still from Flesh of the Void

NOFS: How do you respond to the strong criticisms against your film’s imagery and use of grotesque horror?

JQ: I personally don’t mind that a lot of people can’t really get into things like these, or even hate them. It’s a heavily experimental, grotesque and violent film, which is easy to tell even from just the trailers, and with all forms of art that dare to go a bit further, that dare to move way beyond people’s comfort zone, it’s bound to polarize. One thing that does annoy me is that people can’t stop categorizing things. “This film is a Begotten rip off”, is what I’ve heard a lot. Which is strange to me, since none of them have seen the final film yet. In general, I just ignore all the negativity. It’s a fact that strong criticism like in this case is present every time someone makes something this bizarre, and since most of the hate seems to come from people who’d rather watch the new Transformers movie and cheer towards infantile use of brain-dead action, often even seeming to lack the most basic grammar skills (which I seriously noticed very intensely among our haters), I really don’t mind, since that’s an audience I don’t want to speak to anyway. Another factor is that the negative feedback almost never consisted of constructive criticism so far, but mundane statements without arguments. Which doesn’t bother me in the slightest in regards to my work. On a purely intellectual level, it does somewhat concern me though, since it speaks volumes about our society.

NOFS: When is the planned release of the film?

JQ: At the moment, it’s planned to show it at festivals first, with a DVD and possible Blu Ray release after. I’m also thinking about Vimeo on Demand, but have not come to a conclusion regarding that. I’m still talking to distributors. We have already found someone for a European release, but are still looking for someone in the U.S. In case anybody might be able to help us out here, you can contact productions@sodomchimera.com. Once everything is certain, we will announce it all on our social media platforms, and our homepage, sodomchimera.com. For now, we’re focusing on screening the film in front of live audiences first. The world premiere is taking place at Nightmares Film Festival in Columbus, Ohio, which runs from October 19-22.

NOFS: Where can we find/purchase the film upon its release?

JQ: Like I said, we’re still working on everything, but it will be possible to order the DVD online. For anyone who wants to stay updated and not miss news about the release: You can subscribe to our newsletter at sodomchimera.com, you’ll then receive an email every time we post updates.

NOFS: Are there any things you’d like to disclose about the film?

JQ: If there’s one thing I’d like to specifically say about Flesh of the Void, it is the following: This is not a film. It’s not there to entertain. It’s not there to make you feel good. It is at its very core a psychological experiment. When I started going public with it, I had a very certain task in mind that I was trying to achieve. Something that would give me a lot of insight on modern audiences, and even has quite some social relevance. At this point, I can’t reveal what the exact goal of the experiment was, I can say though that it was massively successful to a degree that stuns me since the film is not even out yet. I might reveal everything at some point in the future, but that’s still open to decide for me, and depends on a few critical factors. To the people who are going to watch the film: Keep in mind what I just said while sitting through it. It’s not made for you to have fun. Which doesn’t mean you can’t like it though, at all. I’m very happy about people appreciating the provocative, the experimental. That said, I’m ridiculously curious about how people will actually react to the full film. It’s a lot of controversial material for the fact that it’s just 76 minutes long.

Please note that this trailer is not safe for work and features disturbing imagery along with grotesque horror.

[gwynnew]

'Rogue One: A Star Wars Story' Writer Gary Whitta on Alternate Endings, Discarded Characters, and How He Came Up with the Title

Donnie Yen and Jiang Wen in ‘Rogue One’ (Photo: Lucasfilm)

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (on Digital HD March 24 and Blu-Ray April 4) was such a massive hit that it’s hard to recall how risky the idea seemed. But Gary Whitta remembers. A screenwriter with several sci-fi films (The Book of Eli, After Earth) and Star Wars: Rebels episodes under his belt, Whitta was hired to turn the events that preceded 1977’s A New Hope — specifically, the theft of the Death Star plans — into a screenplay that would feel simultaneously like Star Wars and something entirely new.

It was a tall order even for a lifelong Star Wars fan like Whitta. “You learn that in order to do service to the films, you kind of have to check your fandom at the door a little bit and resist that urge to just repeat things that you’ve seen before that feel familiar,” he recently told Yahoo Movies. Though the final script is credited to two writers who were brought on later, Chris Weitz and Tony Gilroy, it was Whitta who first broke the story with director Gareth Edwards and Industrial Light and Magic’s chief creative officer John Knoll (who conceived of the idea for the film). Naturally, Whitta’s early drafts and outlines included all kinds of ideas that didn’t make it into the final film, including an appearance by Jabba the Hutt and a different ending for heroine Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones). Yahoo Movies talked to Whitta about his original story, the coffee cup that inspired the planet name Scarif, how he came up with the movie’s title, and the heartbreaking death that was in the script from the very beginning,

You were the first screenwriter brought on for Rogue One. A few details have been released about the early drafts: Jyn’s mother was originally a Jedi, there were nerf herders somewhere in there. What can you tell me about the story and characters you originally conceived?

Just so that everyone’s totally clear on the history here, John Knoll was the guy that originally conceived the idea. He’s the guy that said, “Hey, let’s make a movie about stealing the Death Star plans.” He proposed it to Kathy [Kathleen Kennedy, President of Lucasfilm] and he came up with a very basic story structure— an early version of Jyn was in there — but it needed a lot of fleshing out. They needed a full-time writer to come in and develop it. So that’s how I got involved.

And yeah, every version of the script that we’d write had different versions of the characters. Especially in the early stages, you try almost everything; you experiment and throw things at the wall and see what sticks. We had different versions of Jyn’s parents, and little touches like nerf herders that don’t really mean much for the movie, but it’s nice to say, “Hey, you actually get to see nerf herders now!”

But there was a lot of evolution. One of the things I did when I first started working was I went back and devoured all of the Jonathan Rinzler making-of books for the original trilogy. And you go back and look at that concept art, and you see how things looked vastly different to the finished film that was made. In Return of the Jedi, originally they didn’t consider Ewoks because that was the Wookiee planet. Yoda was originally in that final battle with Vader and Luke. So there are all kinds of permutations, and you stick with the ideas that stick to the wall and you discard the others.

We got left with a lot of things that didn’t get used. And it’s interesting: In most films you have all this stuff left over that you didn’t use. And in those films people don’t care. But when it’s Star Wars, people care more about the stuff that ended up on the floor than what’s actually in most of the films.

I can tell this story now because Gareth told it at South by Southwest other day. I was waiting for him to tell it first. But there came a time when we needed to name the planets — did you hear this story?

Is this story about how the name Scarif came from a coffee cup? 

Yes! I remember Gareth came back with this coffee cup saying, “Look how they spelled my name!” They spelled it wrong every day. And he said, “Look at how they spelled it this time: Scarif!” And one of us said, “That’s got to be the name of a planet.” And I remember saying to Gareth, because this is the kind of thing that you’re aware of when you work on a Star Wars film, I said, “Take a picture. Take a picture with your phone of that coffee cup, because that’s going to be in the making-of book one day.” We saved everything because we knew there was going to be this level of interest down the road in every little discarded idea.

It must be strange making the movie knowing how much scrutiny everything will be under.  

Yeah, and I saved everything. I took pictures of everything, and when it was done I turned it all over to Lucasfilm so they could use it for making-of books and documentaries. Some of the stuff I gave them is in the Blu-ray. You learn to conserve everything. 

Not long after Rogue One was announced, it was being described as a war movie. Was that something that shaped your idea of the story? Did that come from you?

A little bit from me, and a little bit from the foundation that John gave us. It was always a men-on-a-mission movie: They were commandos in a way, they were behind enemy lines, it felt very much like a classic Dirty Dozen, Guns of Navarone type movie. You always knew there would be a big battle at the end because that’s in the opening crawl of A New Hope. There were certain things we knew we couldn’t not do.

What we said was, it’s called Star Wars for a reason. We always felt this was going to be this grittier kind of war film. And I think what allowed us the freedom to do that was Lucasfilm always said, “We really want these films to be different.” And in fact, any time we even pitched them an element that felt like it was maybe too cribbed from the original films, they would say “No, no, do something else, create a new character, show us something new.” And that’s how we ended up with a movie that is 90 percent new stuff.

Do you remember any of those ideas that you pitched that were just a little too close to the original trilogy?

Jabba the Hutt was in there at one point; he was never in a script, but he was in a story outline that I wrote. And again, they would say, “Don’t show us Jabba, we’ve already seen him! Show us something new!” That was Lucasfilm always saying, “We don’t want to just keep relying on the same old characters. We love those characters but we also want to create new characters for people to love.”

And J.J. [Abrams, director of The Force Awakens] obviously did that very successfully. I remember the first time I saw BB-8, thinking “Holy crap, he’s created a droid that’s instantly as iconic as R2-D2! That’s incredible!” And now BB-8 is a beloved character, so he created something new that a new generation of kids grow up loving. I think if people just kept mining the same characters and going back to the same stories, Star Wars would not have endured 40 years. But because we keep trying new things and opening up the universe and experimenting with different characters and different ways of telling the story, that’s what keeps it fresh and keeps people interested.

One of the most exciting things about both Force Awakens and Rogue One is that they’re new stories that still feel like Star Wars films, and I’d imagine that’s a tricky balance.

Absolutely. One of the things that Gareth and I learned early on — and we are both huge, just insane Star Wars fans — but you learn that in order to do service to the films, you kind of have to check your fandom at the door a little bit and resist that urge to just repeat things that you’ve seen before that feel familiar. You don’t want it to feel like a fan film.

Gareth has mentioned that at one point, there was a “happier” ending where a couple of the characters did escape from Scarif. What was your original conception of how that battle would end and who would make it out?

The original conception was that everybody should die. I remember very well, the very, very first meeting that I had with Gareth. He was still in post-production on Godzilla at the time, and Warner Bros. and Disney are right next door to each other, so he would kind of sneak out on his lunch break and come sit with me and we would start breaking the story for Rogue One. And I can’t remember, but one of us said, “I think everyone has to die!” Like, isn’t this a story about martyrdom and the ultimate sacrifice? We knew it was a standalone film, and we weren’t going to carry these characters forward — I mean, they’re not in Star Wars [A New Hope], right? So they have to go somewhere.

In John’s original version, they did get away. I think they got away in an escape pod or something like that. But I was thinking, isn’t it more meaningful if they make the ultimate sacrifice here? And I remember thinking — because this was so new, Force Awakens hadn’t even started shooting yet, and we didn’t quite yet know how long of a leash we were on — and I remember thinking, “Disney is never going to let us do it. They’re never going to let us kill everyone.” And so we didn’t just do it, because I said, “Let’s not write that version and have it taken away from us — we’ll be heartbroken.” We just didn’t think that the studio would let us get away with it.

And so in the version of it that I wrote — K-2S0, he always dies, he was sort of the expendable one. But Jyn survived. And I remember thinking, always thinking like an itch I couldn’t stop scratching: This is not the right ending. She should die.

And then after I left and [screenwriter] Chris Weitz came on, that seed that we had planted back then was still there with Gareth; he obviously is the one constant all the way through the film. And he said to Chris, “Maybe she they should die.” God bless Kathy and Disney, everyone was really supportive of that ending, and it’s the right ending. I’m so glad that we went back to that original instinct.

You came up with the title Rogue One. I’m wondering if you remember any alternative title ideas that you had?

I came up with about a dozen and Rogue One was one of them. I didn’t say,“The movie should be called Rogue One,” I said “Here are 12 titles,” and Rogue One was one of them. I think Bob Iger [Walt Disney CEO] picked it, or Kathy, or someone higher up there on the food chain than me. But I was the one who suggested it. In terms of the titles, I’m not sure I can reveal any of those without violating my NDA, but there were a bunch of them.

And one of the ideas was always to find ways that we can make this film feel different from the franchise films. You think about the 7 films that have come before us, they’re all three or four word titles: A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith, The Force Awakens. Every title is either three or four words long. So my idea was, let’s do one that’s just one or two words, so right off the bat we’ve kind of broken that formula and done something different. If we come up with a title that’s just one word or two words, maybe that tells the audience, this is not like the other Star Wars films.

Were all of those dozen titles you came up with just one or two words?

No. Some of them did fit that more kind of classically Star Wars feel, but I never liked them for that reason. The ones that I always liked were the ones that were one or two words long, like the one they eventually picked.

Watch the ‘Rogue One’ cast critique their action figures:

Read more from Yahoo Movies: 

Why ‘Star Wars’ Pilot Wedge Antilles Isn’t In ‘Rogue One’

‘Rogue One’: How Mon Mothma Returned to the ‘Star Wars,’ Universe 33 Years After ‘Return of the Jedi’

How Darth Vader Got His Groove Back in ‘Rogue One’ Thanks to Last-Minute Tweak 

[susantregre]

What To Do With Older Kids During Holiday Break

What to do with older kids during holiday break?  It is a question that many families are asking today…or will be asking in the next few weeks!

Here is some practical advice for what to do with older kids during holiday break from a mom of three older kids who has struggled with the concept of quality time spent with teens!

I am now the mom of 3 teenage boys.

It happened suddenly last week when my youngest turned 13.

This last year, I started working on a project that put into words, steps and systemized some of the things I have learned {the hard way} of being a mom.  Watch for that series to get started here on Kids Activities starting January 1…

And one of the things that kept coming up was quality time with teens.

In fact, one of the moms that went through the program actually wrote me and said, “I just don’t know WHAT to do with them!”

Hey, I get it.  In fact, I get it more than you can imagine!  I have spent the last decade devoted to kids activities and crafts…the type of thing you see here on the site.

Give me a 2 year old and I have 100s of ideas of ways to play!

Need ideas to keep that science-loving 5 year old busy for a few hours?

If you have run out of homemade slime recipes...I literally wrote a book for you (affiliate).

But…when it comes to a 13 y/o that rolls his eyes when a craft is suggested or a 17 y/o who seems too busy to spend time with the family, things get a little more challenging.

Activities for Older Kids Inspired by Vacationing with Teens

One of my solutions to this challenge of finding quality time activities for older kids is to draw on any experience you might have from the family vacation. I found over the years, that when the family was AWAY from home, together, with bad internet connection, it was easier.

In fact, as my boys got older, traveling got so much easier!

They started wanting to do the things I liked to do.

No more 13 hour Candyland marathons {shoot me now}!

They could participate in things that I loved to do:

rock climbing

skiing

biking

hiking

exploring more than a 100 yard trail

scuba diving

swimming

card games like poker and Rook

board games like Settlers of Catan

trying new food at a restaurant (and behaving during the WHOLE meal)

going to a movie I actually might choose

concerts

plays

escape rooms

painting classes

cooking lessons

kitchen tours or any type of tour

and so many other things that younger kids are just too young for participation…

Have you played tourist with your kids in your own town?

We live in the Dallas-Fort Worth area which has a million things to do with kids and we haven’t taken advantage of it!  All the things I have mentioned are things we have done while away.  This break, I am challenging myself to find some of those special places to take the teens that we would be delighted to visit if we found them while vacationing elsewhere!

Older Kids Still Yearn to Play

No matter how much eye-rolling and choruses of “oh mom!” I might hear from my teenagers, I try to stay confident that under all that teen angst lies the heart of a child.

Push through the resistance. <–I promise you it will be worth it.

At first, you might need to be a little sneaky.  But I truly believe that your child was given to YOU for a reason because if anyone can outsmart him, it is you.

To prove my point, I thought back to the last time one of my boys was laughing out of control.  You know the type of laugh that shakes their entire body and is completely uncontrollable.  What prompted that laugh?  It is usually rooted in simple play.  Like when the dog {our dear Panda} was intentionally “stuck” under the bed and playfully attacking anyone trying to rescue her.  Or trash-talking after a board game win.  Or when a side of the gingerbread house he had constructed just wouldn’t stay and a pile of gingerbread rubble erupted.  Or when we got lost on a trailride and ended up going in circles despite my absolute confidence we were going in the right direction.  Or when they were trying to explain Fortnite to grandma.

We all need play in our lives.

As kids our world is shaped by play.

As teenagers, play helps make sense of the world and put it in perspective.

As adults, it helps decrease stress and connect us with others.

When you are using the excuse that your teen is too grumpy or disconnected to play, you are depriving them of the very thing that could get them out of their funk.

So it is OK to push a little.  Set some expectations.  Gently demand some participation.

Ideas for Activities for Teens at Home

Traditional play activities should not be overlooked even though kids are older.  There is a sensory experience that happens when you get your hands dirty, jump around or dive into a pool that helps increase endorphins and a sense of well-being.

Think of an older version of any activity that your kid loved when they were younger.

If they loved playing with playdough, then consider suggesting baking bread together or making a batch of sugar cookies that would require rolling out of dough and decorating.

If they loved playing with LEGO bricks, then think of a building/strategy activity like one of the advanced LEGO model sets, putting a puzzle together, or playing a strategy game like Chess.  Make a gingerbread house or city!

If they loved going to the park, then find something physical you can do together outside.  Biking, hiking, snowman-making, simply taking a walk with the dog, going to the community indoor pool, finding a good trampoline park if you don’t have one in the backyard, or creating a obstacle course inside/outside and timing each other’s journey through it.

If they loved kids crafts, this one is simple.  There are so many more options for adult crafts that can work amazingly.  Knitting, crocheting, needle-point, wood-working, wreath-making, sewing, create homemade ornaments for your Christmas tree, make gifts to give this season, a trip together to a local craft supply store can open the doors to so many adventures together…

If they loved making art, again, this one is simple.  Being an artist is a life-long journey.  Experiencing different mediums, trying new techniques and honing skills is something that takes a lifetime to master and there is no reason they shouldn’t keep having that fun as a teen.  If they have always loved to draw, but never tried sculpting, that is something that you could try.  Or if they love painting, but have never tried it on ceramics, that would be an easy activity that would require very little convincing!

If they love playing video games, then put that affinity for strategy and competition to work at your kitchen table in the form of card and board games.  It is the same thing.  Don’t be intimidated by the simplicity of the game when the majority of the activity is strategy!  There is a reason that poker rooms in Las Vegas are filled with 20-30 year olds who were gamers.  They desire community and competition which both video games and card/board games can provide IRL.

How to Get Started Planning Activities for Older Kids

Create a plan of action – get out the calendar and figure out what days are best to do things outside the house and which days are best to stay at home.  For us, we are very adverse to crowds!  So, finding when less people will be visiting our desired destination would be the first thought.

One thing a day – don’t overwhelm yourself with planning or your teen with forced family time!  Start slow.  Adding just one thing each day that you will do together is plenty and can make sure they do have the required 13 hours of texting time they need.

Get teens involved in planning – remember when they were little and you gave them directed choices?  You know…do you want this apple or this carrot stick?  That is the same concept here.  You already have an outline of what the next few days will look like and this can help guide things in a direction that they are excited about (OK, tolerant of).  Let’s say that Monday you are planning something outside of the house.  You could offer three choices:  the paining class, the escape room or the science museum trip?

Take them shopping for supplies – I don’t care what age kids are, this is a good strategy.  The problem with our adult brains is that we OVER-strategize crafts and art projects with the end result in mind.  Kids and teens aren’t like that and we should encourage it.  They would do it so differently than we directed if they had the chance.  Give them that option.  Going to the craft store with an open mind and a suggested project (and budget) with their input will have you bringing home a completely different set of supplies for a completely different project that they are way more excited about.

Share the schedule from day one – don’t spring “forced” family time on them.  It will make them feel held hostage and give them a bad case of FOMO with their friends and online activities.  Setting start and end times gives them a sense of control over their schedule and is respectful of the fact that they do have things they want to do.  If there is a conflict of time, think about being flexible about changing.

Don’t give up after the first day – stick to your plan through the entire holiday.  It is ok to make changes, be flexible and adjust expectations!  Teens are a lot like two year olds…they really do thrive on schedules and family contact, but they have a really hard time seeing it or expressing it.  When you are in a routine that they start to understand, they can relax and begin to adapt to it.  If something goes poorly, stopping it short of the expected time and giving a teen a hug and “releasing” them is fine, but start over the next day.

Set realistic expectations – I know you see other family’s post on FB about how they spent the entire day in a beautiful episode of dancing through daisies followed by organic, vegan picnics and dreamcatcher creations.  There is no family on earth that actually spent their day in that manner (especially if there is gorgeous photos or videos involved).  Behind the camera were tears, a lot of messed up white clothing and 1/2 eaten sprout-infested sandwiches.  You know your family.  You know your kids.  Expect that not everything will go as planned.  Embrace that this is more about spending time WITH them and not getting whatever planned activity completed.

Above all, have fun.  You need the break too.  You need the play.  You need the connection with your kids.  And that only happens if you aren’t playing drill sergeant,  fun police or party hostess.  Be a participant in the activity!  Laugh alongside your kids.  Make mistakes.  Make it so it is easy for them to laugh at you.

Having More Fun as a Family

Life gets busy.  And if you have involved teens, that means it is a revolving door of sports, enrichment activities and time with friends.  A teen’s home base is still HOME.  They still get their confidence, resilience and perspective from their family experience.

If that family experience is only filled with coming/going, directions, corrections and schedules, they are going to miss out on gaining the coping skills it really takes to be an adult in the real world.

If that family experience is sprinkled with inside jokes, playful teasing and quality time together, they are going to gain a perspective that allows them not to take things so seriously.

The truth is, this is just something we need to do.  It won’t look perfect.  It won’t go as planned.  But the investment we make into our kids is the most important thing in life right now…and they need to have a little more fun!

What is your favorite thing to do with older kids?  Please tell me in the comments!

The post What To Do With Older Kids During Holiday Break appeared first on Kids Activities Blog.

from Kids Activities Blog http://bit.ly/2SduLRV

[sinceileftyoublog]

Andrew Combs Interview: Neurotic and Fucked-up Brain

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Nashville singer-songwriter Andrew Combs is soft spoken and laid back, but deliberate. With him, it’s all about balance. It’s important for Combs to change things up. “I never want to make the same record twice,” he tells me over the phone earlier this year. At the same time, when people on his team wanted him to branch out and look for a more high-profile producer for this year’s Canyons of my Mind, he pushed back. “It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel comfortable,” he said. “What’s the point of playing music if you’re not having fun or collaborating in a productive environment where you feel comfortable?” With a smile that I can sense forming even over the phone, he says, “I stayed in town and used all of my buddies.”

All this is to say that Combs is just plain honest, which manifests itself greatly not only on Canyons but when he talks about it. During our interview, he talked about writing and recording the record, playing live, his songwriting tendencies, and why he admires Daniel Romano.

Since I Left You: How is Canyons of my Mind different from past music you’ve released? How is it a continuation of your last record, All These Dreams?

Andrew Combs: I think there are lots of common threads lyrically. Every artist strives to get good at one or two things and really hone those in. Lyrically, I think I probably always talk about the same kind of thing. Musically, I always try and push myself in a new direction every record--for the sake of really not getting bored with what I’m doing and keeping it interesting. I never want to make the same record twice. That’s kind of a big deal for me. I worked with a few different musicians, the same producers, a different studio, and a different engineer. It might not seem like a lot, but little by little, they do affect the end product.

SILY: In terms of the album’s subject matter, you’ve talked extensively about how this record is about you growing up--getting married, preparing to be a father.

AC: The thought of bringing a child into the world is scary, but that’s not the person who I was when I wrote this record. Growing up, yes, in terms of getting married, taking on more responsibilities--we just bought a house--just trying to be more in tune with the world and not trying to be so self-centered about what I want.

SILY: There are a couple more political songs on the record. But for the most part, it’s about you sharing your own experiences honestly, and it becomes more universal. Is that kind of what you were going for?

AC: I’ve been asked that same kind of question but in different words many times. I wasn’t consciously trying to be genuine or something. It just comes out. They say to write what you know, so that’s what I try and do.

SILY: Do you have a favorite song on the record?

AC: I don’t know. I really like “Dirty Rain”. It’s one of those songs that happened pretty fast, and those always feel good. The thing about me is that I’m always looking to the next project. I’m already scheming about what I want to do next. Every time I bring it up to the label or to managers, they’re like, “Do you realize your record just came out a couple weeks ago?” [laughs] But my favorite song is always the latest song I’ve written. I’m already moving past the record.

SILY: Do you have anything concrete planned?

AC: Nah. I could tell you plans, but they’ll change. I need to work on that a little. Or maybe it’s a good thing. Even with Canyons, I had this idea of doing this sort of--I don’t wanna say stripped down, because that can be used in the wrong way--I wanted to do this Marty Robbins [Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs] vibe. Acoustic guitar, acoustic lead, upright [bass], maybe some brushes, and orchestrated background vocals. That was my initial concept going into Canyons. I think you can kind of hear it still in “Hazel” and “Rose Colored Blues”. Unfortunately or fortunately, I’m always morphing into something else. By the time we got into the studio, it was a different picture I was trying to paint.

SILY: Do you reach a point where that sort of stops, or does that continue into live performance? 

AC: It sort of depends who’s playing with me and what their strengths and weaknesses are. But I try to stick to the song structure and at least some of the production elements live. It would be cool to get to the point where I’m comfortable enough with the songs and band to change it up. I’m just not there yet. I’m still getting comfortable with performing live. It’s still not my favorite thing. There are nights when I love it. The whole side of the business that’s the entertainment thing--I don’t get off on it like a lot of people do. It’s not my strong point. I like the writing and studio time. The creative side.

SILY: You mention being hobbled by the industry side, wanting to come out with new music and hearing it’s too soon from your label. Would you ever consider releasing your songs as you make them, uploading them at a more rapid pace?

AC: Yeah. To be fair, I don’t think my label or my managers would be against that. It’s just like, literally, the album just came out. If I wanted to record and release something right then and there, I understand that they say, “Let’s hold off for now. Let’s wait a little while.” People on the business side are not afraid of putting out content--you just need to stagger it a little bit to keep it interesting. But I love it when people put out a continuous flow. As long as it’s good and doesn’t need a filter. You know who does it really well? Daniel Romano. He’s constantly working and putting out quality work.

SILY: It seems like he has a new album every year.

AC: And he has that other band named Ancient Shapes. It’s more rock and roll and post-punk. I just respect people who are prolific like that.

SILY: Why did you decide to take the line from “Sleepwalker” and use that as the album title?

AC: It’s really not that interesting. I was going through every song and looking for lines that would be good for an album title. In that song, it’s not a stand out line, but I thought it very much encapsulated the theme of the record, which is a peak inside my neurotic and fucked up brain.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album art?

AC: That river that I’m wading through is about an hour east of town. Called the Caney Fork River. It’s my go-to spot around town to go fishing and hang out. They’re able to keep it cold enough and have enough oxygen in there to keep a habitat for trout, which wouldn’t be possible otherwise in this area of the state. The whole water in the summer creates this cool fog. It can get really thick down there. I brought my friend Melissa Fuller, who has done all of my album photos. It was cool. I had thought about that for a long, long time. My friend Jeremy Fetzer, also a great guitar player, who has a band Steelism, he did all of the graphic design with his wife. Their taste is similar to mine, so it’s easy. 

I spend a lot of time outside. It’s very important to me. You can hear that with some songs, specifically "Dirty Rain”. I thought it all tied together nicely.

SILY: Is there anything you’ve been listening to lately that’s caught your ear?

AC: Michael Nau. He was in this group called Cotton Jones. He released a record called Mowing, and I heard that about six months ago and thought it was great. His records are all really, really good. I don’t really know much about him--he lives in the Northeastern seaboard up there. Mowing, he worked with some guys up in Burlington, Vermont.

I’m a huge Cass McCombs fan, I always listen to him. The last album is so good. The songs are tight. The production was super cool and groovy.

We’re always listening to the staples. Kris Kristofferson, Mickey Newbury. Tom Rush is one of my favorite. The Kernal--he was playing bass with me all of last year. He put out this record called Light Country on Single Lock [Records]. It’s like weirdo Cowboy Jack Clement meets Wilco. It’s definitely worth your time. The songs are super neat. He worked with Ben Tanner, who helps run Single Lock down in Florence, Alabama in the Shoals.

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://andrewcombs.bandcamp.com/album/canyons-of-my-mind"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Canyons of my Mind by Andrew Combs&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

[weownthenitenyc]

Uhhh ummm uhhh…

We’re left with mostly guttural sounds after this year’s Dirtybird Campout and for all the right reasons (minus a possible upper respiratory infection). With so much happening all at once, if you looked down at your phone for a moment to see if you had service (spoiler alert: you don’t) you might just have missed something incredible. From the music to the games, the build-out, and the Dirtybirds in attendance riling everyone up, there were so many parts to the Campout that made every mile traveled to get there absolutely worth it.

In its third year running, Dirtybird has really nailed the overall concept and delivered more of a familial camp environment than a music festival atmosphere, creating an unparalleled experience. Dirtybird as a record label, with the Campout as its flagship event, has seen an impressive amount of organic growth to push the flock into their own tier of awesome. Campout translated what it is to be a part of something bigger than just a festival and provided a completely new adventure with each day set to the tune of some of the most skilled beat masters around.

Early Friday campers began piling into the campgrounds to find their prime locations to set up home for the weekend in what were arguably the dustiest conditions by campout standards yet.  For those in GA camping, it proved to be worthwhile to head as deep into the campsite as possible since it was a bit of a hike into the actual event itself.  Thankfully for those who didn’t care to make the trek, there was a shuttle in and out of the festival grounds, but if you were too proud of your personal space then it definitely wasn’t for you because people were herded on top of each other in the back of a truck. Regardless, most of us were there to get weird in the middle of a crowd in the mountains, so you probably didn’t join us at all if you don’t like bumping up on people.

By sundown on the first day of Campout, it had been made extremely clear to everyone, if they already weren’t aware: we were in for a weekend-long escapade of debauchery, weirdness, and dust. With every turning hour, the San Antonio Campgrounds and the beautiful creatures inhabiting for the weekend flocked together and got super freaky. How freaky, you ask?

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Assisted by DJ Deeon throwing bass in everyone’s faces, the party had taken full form and the tone had been fully set.  To follow suit, the homies Will Clarke and Kill Frenzy sling some raunchy and unreleased tunes that had even the most reserved attendees booty poppin. Pretty sure somewhere in the crowd an ass eating contest broke out and I might have even seen a dog twerking in the corner at one point. (insert boomerang) Then to think that things couldn’t get even wilder, the Dirtybird bossman Claude VonStroke took the stage to close out the night’s main performances with a set comprised of all new unreleased music that had the crowd buzzing for more. Indeed more was to come, as camp-goers migrated to the disco-driven late night Great Bingo Revival that ran till 4:30 am or later… who really knows?

To most, while the sun was out, Saturday may have seemed like a relatively “normal” day filled with yoga sessions, T-shirt making, arts and crafts, and a bit of exploring. “Normal” ended there, as Saturday turned out to be arguably the most bizarre odyssey of the weekend from start to finish.  Impressively, the creatures of camp headed out a bit early for this one and by around what I assumed to be 6 pm the party was in full rage mode for Cut Snake to show everyone how Australia gets down. Their set transformed the crowd into a pelvic thrusting and booty bumping bunch of animals-in-heat type of weird, perfectly transitioning into nightfall.

Saturday night was by no means for the faint of heart or overly sensitive individuals. Nightcrawlers were out in their final forms marching to the heavy drum and bass while exploring uncharted dimensions. Barclay Crenshaw managed to work his freaky bassy synth magic to rearrange our brains and assimilate everyone to the way of life that is Dirtybird. Walker and Royce, with a little help from Dances With White Girls, in anticipation of the release of their Self Help album, drew such a large crowd that we just had to jump into the dusty mess that was the mainstage dancefloor. The beats were so dirty it just didn’t make sense to try to stay physically clean anymore. To round out the more housey side of things for the night, Justin Martin closed out the Bird House stage with a truly powerful and emotional roller coaster type of set filled with tracks that had people begging for ID’s and dropping to their knees.

Photo Credit: Juliana Bernstein

For those that felt it was still too soon to call it quits on Saturday night, a.k.a. the early hours of Sunday morning, there was plenty still going on at the Bass Lodge. We had DJ Marky throw down some gritty drum & bass and showed us exactly why we appreciate the artistry that is a true master DJ at work.

Then in pure Dirtybird Campout fashion, The Martin Brothers blessed us with another unforgettably mystical after hours drum & bass set that even made a wild J Phlip scale the wall of the front of the stage out of nowhere.

With everyone in a daze and running on fumes on Sunday, it was a bit tough to get people up out of their tents. Nonetheless, there was still partying to be done and more adventures to be had.  Those who made it over to the festival grounds while the sun was still out, mostly hid in the shade and meditated to the music for as long as possible because it was an absolute scorcher.  I give major respect to whoever set up all the water stations because it was absolutely necessary for the amount of people attending and the conditions we experienced.  Far too often has there been events that venues neglect water fill-ups or overcharge for a bottle, but thankfully Dirtybird knows how to keep the flock safe and party responsibly.

Photo Credit: Miranda McDonald

Sunday’s festivities displayed how tight-knit the entire Dirtybird family is and how masterful they are in creating an event to be proud of. The music of the day was a fire blend of every genre imaginable. At the Bass Lodge, Mija, Ryan Forever, Ardalan, Mark Starr, and a few more people that dropped by for an extensive B2B2B2B2… Successfully turning the stage it into a frenzy of friends that strut their best tracks in the middle of the day.  The family vibes were buzzing high all day across the grounds to the extent that everyone in attendance, ranging from the artists to the fans in the crowd, existed on the same plane and interacted without a hierarchy like humans often do.  To shut down the last day of the festival, as Dirtybird Campout tradition goes, the family set allowed nearly every artist who played and stuck out the weekend to throw one more track in the mix to send us off with.  While emotions ran high as we closed out with Justin Martin playing the final song, we embraced the fact that this was one of the largest and most intense Dirtybird event to date.

Overall, the Dirtybird Campout reigns at the top of our list for one of the most welcoming and intimate festivals around, despite it’s growing size and audience. Thankfully we get to catch another event in the near future, as it has been announced that the Dirtybird Campout will be coming to the East Coast from February 2nd to the 4th to spread that Dirtybird love to both sides of the U.S. Can’t thank all involved and everyone that attended enough for making Campout an unforgettable experience and we will absolutely be seeing you all very soon! Stay tuned into everything Dirtybird at https://dirtybirdrecords.com/ and http://dirtybirdcampout.com/ !

A collaborative effort by: Andrew Siconolfi and Anthony Romano

Featured Photo by Juliana Bernstein

REVIEW: Dirtybird Campout 2017 Uhhh ummm uhhh… We’re left with mostly guttural sounds after this year's Dirtybird Campout and for all the right reasons (minus a possible upper respiratory infection).