#they had an arch built in and all the others ive seen are just flat

[loveclowny]

my old neighbor gave me a pair of those wooden acupressure slippers & I wore them all the time until the leather straps completely snapped (I even taped them back together for a while lmao) anyway I have spent years trying to find the same ones or similar and I STILL can't find them anywhere..... I know they are a common item but none of them look right and I just... I need them I think of you everyday wooden slipper....

[classicalmonuments]

Great Theatre of Philadelphia (Theater of Amman)

Philadelphia (Amman), Jordan

2nd Century CE 

 6,000 seat

The Roman Amphitheater is located in the eastern part of the Jordanian capital, Amman. A Greek inscription on one of the pillars indicates that this amphitheater was built in honour of Emperor Antonius Pius (138–161 CE).

The large and steeply raked structure could seat about 6,000 people: built into the hillside, it was oriented north to keep the sun off the spectators.

It was divided into three horizontal sections (diazomata). Side entrances (paradoi) existed at ground level, one leading to the orchestra and the other to the stage.

The highest section of seats in a theatre offers excellent sightlines, while the actors can be clearly heard, owing to the steepness of the cavea.

Sources and more text below.

“The great theatre of Philadelphia is situated near the eastern extremity of the town, on the south side of the stream (see map), at a point where the mountain¬ side, a steep wall of rock that rises from the river throughout the greater part of the length of the town, stands back from the bank of the stream, leaving a level terrace, partly artificial and partly natural, upon which a number of ancient buildings stood. The cavea of the theatre, which consists of three horizontal divisions of seats, was almost completely excavated in the rock of the hill-side, though it was found necessary to build up the higher parts of both ends of the semicircle. None of the seats was cut in the natural rock, but all were made of a slightly different quality of limestone, quarried, no doubt, in the immediate vicinity. The artificial portions of the cavea were erected upon masses of masonry penetrated with tunnel vaults that followed the curve of the cavea to about a third of its perimeter on either side. The semicircle of the cavea was produced in straight lines about four meters on either hand, and this part, being entirely artificial, was built upon three stories of superposed tunnel vaults separated by great masses of solid masonry. The lowest of these vaults, on either side, served as an exit, a. sort of covered parados, under the end seats. The scaena with all the stage buildings has been entirely destroyed, leaving only remains of its foundations. The auditorium (Ill. 31) is exceptionally well preserved so that even the casual visitor will observe that the cavea had three horizontal divisions of seats, with an upper and a lower praecinctio, besides an outer horizontal passage above the uppermost tiers of seats. The seats in the middle sections are preserved, from the orchestra to the uppermost passage, though those of the lowest division are almost completely buried in soil that has washed down from above. A more minute examination reveals, as the plan (Pl. IV) shows, that the lower and middle sections comprised each sixteen tiers of seats, divided by six scalaria into seven cunei, with scalae at the ends of the outer cunei. The uppermost division of seats is composed of eight cunei, and the scalae in this division were midway between the ends of the scalae of the lower divi- sions. The number of tiers of seats in the lowest division is assumed to be equal to that in the middle division from the oldest descriptions on the one hand, and from the measurements on the other. The orchestra and the lowest tiers of seats are completely buried, as is shown by the dotted line in section C. D. of Plate IV ·, but the level of the orchestra may be determined from the level of the passages within the arches that open upon the orchestra on either side. The semicircular barrier about the orchestra is not likely to have been over 1.50 m. high, and a height of 1.30 m. would allow for just sixteen tiers. The middle division preserves almost all of its tiers of seats intact, on the west side (Ill. 32) as far as the scalae on the diameter of the semicircle, and on the east side (Ill. 33) to within two or three meters of that line, as is shown by dotted lines on the plan and in Pl. IV, section C.D. The topmost division preserves five cunei intact, the cuneus on the west end, and the corresponding cuneus on the opposite side, with half of the cuneus adjoining it, having fallen in ruins (Ill. 32 and 33). These portions being built upon artificial substructures were naturally among the first to fall. The middle horizontal division of seats was reached from the lower praecinctio by double flights of steps in the middle of the terminal cunei. The uppermost division was reached from the upper praecinctio by similar flights in the middle of each of the uppermost cunei, at the ends of the lower scalae (Plan, Pl. IV). The upper and the lower praecinctio are each 2.30 m. wide; their walls are 1.80 cm. high; the passage at the top of the cavea is 3.40 m. wide, and probably had a colonnade corresponding to its outer wall which is 4.50 m. high. In the middle of this outer wall is an exedra which will be discussed later. Immediately within the wall of the lower praecinctio, at both ends, is a vaulted passage with two openings upon the praecinctio. From the present condition of the passages it is not possible to determine how far the vaults were carried; but, judging from the slope of the hill at this point, I do not believe that they were carried far beyond the second opening to the praecinctio. (Section C. D.). The passages within the wall of the upper praecinctio were carried well around the curve to points shown in the plan by dotted lines drawn across the uppermost division of seats. It had three openings to the praecinctio, on either side of the cavea. (Section C. D.). The openings between the vaulted passages and the praecinctiones were not arched, but were provided with long three-piece lintels or flat arches, that carried the seats above them. The steps which mounted to the upper divisions of seats were placed on either side of these openings, and within the circle of the lowest tier which was not a seat, properly speaking, but a narrow passage above the praecinctio. The arches that opened upon the orchestra sprang from moulded caps, and had moulded archivolts, as is shown in the detail drawings in Plate IV. The same plate shows also the details of the mouldings at the top of the walls of the praecinctiones, and the mouldings and other details of the seats and steps. The details of the exedra at the top of the cavea could not be accurately drawn, owing to the fact that the place has been converted into a modern dwelling. It appears to be well preserved. Two columns stand in the opening of the exedra, supporting an architrave and an arched pediment (Ill. 31). The spaces between the columns, and on either side of them, have been filled with walling pierced with a door and windows, and the pediment has two windows in it. The whole surface is covered with mud plaster, so that nothing but the chief dimensions of the exedra are obtainable. I was told that there were three niches within the exedra, and I have shown them in the plan and elevations as they were described to me. The extension of the cavea toward the north was, of course, entirely artificial. The lowest of its vaulted passages are preserved on both sides, with their ornamental arches which opened upon the orchestra. These arches are in line with the sixth tier, from the top, of the lowest division of seats. Above the arches were five tiers of seats. The outer ends of these passages were undoubtedly open, though they are closed now, so far as we may see in the accumulation of debris; for this reason I have shown walls in the plan closing the ends, but in section A B I have shown an arched opening at the left end. The remains of the next vaulted passage, i. e., that on the level of the first praecinctio, consist of a pavement and two side walls on the west side (Ill. 32), and a pavement on the side opposite (Ill. 33). Of the uppermost passage no remnant remains, but it unquestionably existed. In section CD of Plate IV, a cut through the three vaults is shown on the left, with the ends of the curved passages opening upon them; on the right is shown the plain outer wall that rose from the pavement of the parados to the top of the end of the cavea. It is impossible, in the present condition of the ruins, to find out definitely the width or disposition of the paradoi. Owing to the distance between the cavea and the foundations of the scaena, it seems certain that there were open spaces on either side between the ends of the cavea and the stage buildings. However, there seem to have been walls at the ends of the paradoi, as may be observed in Ill. 32, where an ancient wall, now employed as the east wall of a modern dwelling, is seen, abutting the end of the cavea at the level of the lower praecinctio. The lower part of this wall is deeply buried in debris, and it is impossible to say whether there was an opening in it on the orchestra level at the end of the parados. It may have been that the ends of the paradoi were closed, and that the paradoi were used exclusively by the chorus (see small restored plan above section A B); while the vaulted passages below the ends of the cavea were the means of entrance and exit for the audience. One would hardly detect the remains of stage buildings in the ruins of this theatre without searching for them. Some writers have even gone so far as to say that the theatre of Phila- delphia had no stage. The foundations of these buildings are indeed almost completely buried, only the upper surface of the stones can be seen in the general level of the soil, and this surface is worn smooth with constant passing. In the plan I have shown the foundations as they appear. To the left of the line which bisects the cavea are foundations which show a semicircle and a quadrant facing the cavea; the quadrant terminates in a short projecting wall: the rear part of these foundations is perfectly straight, and three meters from it are the foundations of a wall, 1.10 m. thick, composed entirely of headers. On the right of the line which bisects the cavea there are no traces of foundations now visible as far as a modern wall; this wall are foundations with a semicircle corresponding exactly to the other, and with a straight line behind it, a passage three meters wide, and an outer wall, 1.10 m. thick, which forms the boundary of a modern court-yard. Beyond the semicircle, i. e., toward the west, is an open space, and on the other side of this, more foundations, and other modern houses. These remains are scant enough, but they apparently give us a basis for the restoration of the scaena in the form of a solid wall 4.30 m. thick, with an opening in the middle flanked by half niches, with semicircular niches on either side beyond the half niches, and with a passage in the rear. We may perhaps carry the restoration a little further by recognising a side portal of the scaena in the break in the west side, though it does not appear to be matched on the opposite side. This, however, may be due to the condition of the ruin. The plan of the parascenia must remain a matter of conjecture until systematic excavations shall have been undertaken here. Eastward from the foundations of the scaena are heaps of rubbish, and westward are modern houses. I am of the opinion that two of the modern houses shown on the plan, and in Ill. 32, make use of the wall of the stage buildings, but the house- walls are so completely coated with mud plaster that it is quite impossible to ascertain whether they are ancient or not. The extreme north wall of the stage buildings appears, from the ruins, to have been prolonged to the outer ends of the cavea, as I have shown in the small tentative restoration. Outside of the rear wall of the stage buildings, and at a distance of about seven meters from it, there appears to have been a colonnade of Corinthian columns. Eight of these columns are still standing, with architraves above them, opposite the western end of the cavea. The row of columns extends a little beyond the line of the west side of the cavea to a double column, the stump of which protrudes from the soil. From this point a second colonnade was carried northward, not quite at right angles with the first colonnade. The second colonnade consists now of only four columns without capitals; it is of smaller scale than the other: the larger columns are .70 m. in diameter, and the intercolumniations are nearly 3 m.; while the smaller columns have a diameter of only .60 m., and inter- columniations of 2.32 m. The greater colonnade undoubtedly extended entirely across the width of the theatre, and the smaller one may have corresponded to a similar colonnade at the east end of the theatre, the three enclosing one end and two sides of a public square in front of the great theatre, flanked on the east by the odeum, and, possibly, on the west by some other building which has completely disappeared. M. de Laborde published a sketch1 of the theatre as it was in 1827, anti gives a short description of its ruins; Captain Conder gives an incomplete plan~ on a small scale, and describes the ruins at some length as he found them in 1881. Among the earlier illustrations of the theatre are those published by Merrill3, and Thomson 4 5 who visited "Amman between 1875 and 1880. A more recent photograph is that published by Professor Briinnow in his great work u on the Province of Arabia. “

(Text is told first hand by Howard Crosby Butler, who wrote the Syria series) 

Sources: 1, 2 ,3 

[gauntsghostsfieldguide]

The Armor of Contempt- Part 11

@the-fluffy-underbelly

IV

“The most ghostly of the Ghosts melted through the sunlight towards the foot of the town wall. They made no sound, and their signing was so understated that even their hands were whispering.” Oh, I like this image. They’re so damn stealthy!

“It was an odd detail that only real recon experts would pick up, but each Tanith scout had his own “flavour” of silent movement. Mkoll flowed like liquid, running through the levels of darkness. Bonin had a dry drift to him, like a shadow moving with the sun.” They even have different kinds of stealth!

“Hwlan, who moved like smoke, took up a spot by the gate and held cover as Maggs and Leyr crossed up the paddock to a woody clump of wintergorse. Leyr was Tanith, and moved as secretly as slow thawing ice.” More similes!

“Maggs was short and broad-shouldered, and had a scar that dropped vertically from the corner of his left eye. Off duty, his mouth could give Varl’s a decent race. He had his own style too. It was “try damn hard not to get seen and killed”.” I do like Maggs, even if he doesn’t get a fancy stealth description.

“The guard heard the clinking, and headed right over to the source. As he came down the ditch to the door, Maggs just got to his feet to meet him in one smooth motion and buried the blade through his neck. Maggs caught him in an embrace and pulled his body back down into cover with him. A blink of an eye and they were both out of sight again.” That’s pretty damn smooth.

V

The enemy starts to fight back, though some of the Ghosts must be through the walls.

“Seena and Arilla” I don’t think these names have popped up before, but I’m guessing, given their names, that they’re Verghast women who were in the resistance, joined up with the Tanith, and keep using the heavy guns because they’re good with them.

““Like tin cans on a stump,” she murmured as she lined one up.” Jessi Banda is awesome.

“Close by, Nessa Bourah looked up from her long-las. “Like tin cans on a stump,” she grinned, speaking the words with the slightly nasal flatness of the profoundly deaf.” And Nessa! I’d forgotten about her.

“Something considerable exploded behind the wall and the mortars shut up. The scouts were plying their trade inside.” Yep, they got through. And are making things blow up.

“Filth littered the streets, and the buildings were all in miserable repair, though many, like the town walls, had been refitted or converted using a patchwork of unpleasant materials that weren’t immediately identifiable. There was a grey-green sheeting that was halfway between flakboard and tin, and odd, resin-like substances.” I suppose it makes sense that Chaos would have their own, weird building materials.

“It was as if, rather than taking the town over and occupying it, the Arch-enemy had nested in it.” Like they’re birds?

“Some were using goads and lashes on a team of half-naked, emaciated human wretches — skin and bone and rags — forcing them to ferry shells from a supply stack to feed the weapons. The wretches were prisoners, captives, grotesquely malnourished and abused, the stigma rune branded on their faces.” The people are really not doing well. Not after years of slavery.

And the slaves are so numb to everything they just stand there while the scouts attack and probably all get killed by their explosion. The people here can’t just be saved by soldiers showing up. A lot of them can’t be saved at all.

“It occurred to Mkoll that there were no people because, like any resource, they had been used up.” It’s what Chaos does. They use up everything around them until the world is dead. Gereon’s been stripped of resources for years.

“Gereon was close to exhaustion. As Gaunt had feared, and privately confided to Mkoll, they were bringing liberation far too late.” Gaunt’s right. Some things can’t be healed.

“Mkoll and Hwlan scurried through the dry, dead husks of homes and workplaces. Every room contained a warm, stale atmosphere and a yellowed cast of neglect. Everything had shrivelled and flaked. Window glass, where it still existed, was stained the colour of amasec. Dust mould and a virulent fungus, violet and blotchy, were endemic across walls and ceilings. Heaps of dead blowflies, like handfuls of coal dust, lined every windowsill.” Everything’s just... dried out. Desiccated. Left to fall into disuse. 

“Twenty, and one, Rawne had put it, “for luck”. Major Rawne, who knew about these things thanks to what he described as a “misspent youth”, had built the detonator himself.” Rawne’s sense of humor is amazing.

“For the first time he realised, with a strange start, that there were no cobwebs at all. Arachnids, like rats and lice, had accompanied mankind out into the stars and had permeated all his living spaces. What had happened to all the spiders here? Was there something about Chaos that drove them out or — and Hwlan had always had a thing about spiders — was the absence of webs a sign that spiders enjoyed some sort of collusion with the Ruinous Powers? He wouldn’t put that past them, filthy little wrigglers.” ok....

Mkoll talks to the enemy in their own language to distract them, then stabs the guy in the face! Nice!

VI

“The pile of rags was something vaguely human. An old man, an old woman, Hwlan wasn’t sure.” Probably a mostly dead slave who’d passed out. Though they were able to get up and run for a bit, so maybe only half dead.

“Do you not know how to sign? Bonin signed angrily. 

Yes, Maggs signed back, and to prove it elaborately signed, You are a total feth-wit.” LOL. I do like the bits of humor.

Maggs and Bonin are outnumbered and have nowhere to run. Not good.

“Occupation troops were scrambling down from revving trucks by the gates when the baby carriage appeared. It was rolling free, jiggling over the cobbles, picking up speed as it came down the long slope of the road. A couple of troopers looked at it in frank puzzlement, others called to friends and comrades. The baby carriage rolled right past a few mystified troopers, past a truck, heading for the gates themselves.” It’s not every day you see a lone baby carriage, rolling through town.

[schmergo]

Henry IV part 1 at the Folger Shakespeare Library: Informal Review

Shakespeare’s history plays often get an unfair reputation for being dry and dull. Something about the Roman numerals in the titles scares audiences off, I guess. But the Folger Shakespeare Theatre’s new production of Henry IV Part 1 is sleek, energetic, and action-packed. The 2 hours and 45 minutes (with intermission) flew by and I often found myself on the edge of my seat.

Director Rosa Joshi’s production creates a distinctive world for the rebels, royals, and ruffians who populate this play: half-futuristic, half-medieval inspired. King Henry and his court bear some resemblance to Captain Picard and his crew with simple monochromatic suits decorated with a stylized “IV” insignia, matching the giant neon symbol that looms over the set. The commoners of Eastcheap look one part ‘Burning Man’ festival, one part Renaissance festival, and knights wear camouflage pants while carrying real swords. It sounds like it shouldn’t work, but it does, and it all comes together to show how timeless this play is.

The wonderfully effective set, designed by Sara Ryung Clement, is an industrial looking network of scaffolding, ppes, ladders, and a catwalk. At the center of it all sits a looming throne that easily converts to a table for the tavern scenes (complete with a hiding space)! Actors use every inch of this jungle gym set to its full potential, most effectively in the battle scenes of the final act. Even set transitions serve as character moments (for example, Worcester aggressively shoves the throne offstage with almost clawlike hands).

The play’s aesthetic was strongest in its simplicity, though the sound design, filled with loud club music and air horn sounds, could get a little excessive. Joshi’s character-driven approach to the play, along with the Folger’s intimate space, served the text better than other bombastic productions of history plays that I’ve seen recently.

As the careworn king, Peter Crook had me hanging on his every word. Crook’s commanding performance was the most masterful portrayal of Henry I’ve seen yet. It’s rare to see such a confident, sophisticated delivery of Shakespeare’s verse, especially since the title role of this play is often overshadowed by other characters. A much younger and less-experienced actor, Tyler Fauntleroy nonetheless held his own as hot-tempered soldier Hotspur. Despite being easily angered and impulsive, Fauntleroy’s Hotspur comes across as quite likeable, with passionate energy and strong stage presence. He and his wife (Maribel Martinez) share a playful, intense union of two equally stubborn and strong-willed people—not veering into violent misogyny as I sometimes see.

I was less impressed by Avery Whitted’s portrayal of Prince Hal. On paper, he does everything right. He’s clearly a talented and well-trained actor with strong physical acting skills, an expressive face, and a good sense of timing. But when he opens his mouth to speak Shakespeare’s text, it just falls flat. He seems to be holding back a little, perhaps intimidated by the responsibility. (Looking at his bio in the program, I saw that this was his first professional Shakespeare play.) I kept waiting for him to ‘imitate the sun’ and show a true virtuosity of performance late in the show, but it never happened.

In a scene in which Hal faces his father for the first time, usually an electrifying scene, I found myself watching Crook instead of listening to a single thing Hal said, and the scene never built to an emotional climax. Whitted did build a great rapport with Edward Gero’s Falstaff, and his best work occurred in the very awesome and prolonged final sword fight between Hotspur and Hal. My heart was in my throat, and I KNOW what happens there.

Gero’s Falstaff has been front and center in all of the ads and promotional materials for the show. After all, he’s a world-class Shakespearean actor and a DC area treasure, and Falstaff is one of Shakespeare’s greatest roles. I found his Falstaff a wonderfully nuanced performance by a master Shakespearean… but is it a sin if I say I wished he let Falstaff be just a little sillier?

He is totally believable as the corpulent old con artist, clearly embodying every shade of his character, and the entire theatre went dead quiet in the outstanding scene in which Falstaff, in the middle of play-acting with Hal, begs his young friend not to banish him from his company. His reactions are well-timed, his expressions are arch, his earthy delivery is enjoyable, but I just didn’t laugh as much as I often do with this character. I wonder if this will still be true further into the run, since at this early performance, I noticed him slightly misspeaking a few lines. (I doubt most people in the audience would notice, but after directing this show last year, I know most of Falstaff’s lines pretty well.)

Another local favorite, Naomi Jacobson, is a standout as the scheming Worcester, here represented as a female character. With sharp red shoes and severe silver hair, she reminds me of the ‘strutting Teresa May’ meme come to life. Although she’s obviously manipulative and self-serving, I’ve never felt so sympathetically inclined toward Worcester before. She often seemed to vibrate with the injustice of the King’s treatment of her.

In general, I thought the play was most powerful in its dramatic moments and could have leaned just a little more into the comedy. It seemed slightly afraid to get too silly (except for one or two uproarious moments—my personal favorite bit being when one of Falstaff’s minions stuck his arm inside his shirt and pretended it had been cut off after the ‘robbery scene’). But for all that, it gave a warmth and urgency to the play that I’ve seen missing from bigger productions. It also incorporated choreographed stomping, clapping, and hip-hop/step movement into battle scenes in a way that actually worked to convey the noise of battle without becoming distracting, unlike some plays I’ve seen. And the ending? Well, let's just say Bri and I both went 'Oooooooh' just before the final blackout.

Henry IV is truly a play with something for everyone, and this production was directed with a clear love for the material. I recommend catching this show before it closes on October 13! Discounted tickets are available on TodayTix.com, and you can call the Folger box office for discounted tickets for young theatregoers!

[guild-guardian]

Spoiler Free review of “All or Nothing”

After a cut because long post, many words, skritt math. 

The Story (No details)

Overall it's probably one of the best executed episodes worth of story that they’ve released in the last couple of Seasons. 

The Final Battle is more akin to the kind of scale you see in the Zorah Magdaros battle in Monster Hunter World than you’d expect to find in GW2, and that was a huge improvement compared to previous Elder Dragon battles. Having an active role in the battle, along with the NPCs not just “swinging their sword Oh look they swung it again” at trash mobs, and actually being useful- firing siege weapons, fighting mobs, picking you up if you get downed

So many call backs to minor named NPCs- some personal early personal story, and others from pact/priory/vigil etc It lead to a feeling of being surrounded by familiar faces as you lead the charge.  The short piece after the battle was also a well designed experience- the lack of UI and the “damage” lines that you felt when Balthazar killed you in PoF, further push the “oh fuck we’re pretty badly wounded”, along with the forced walk/limp and fall to our knees when we try to hop down along the uneven floor. The main character’s animation here was excellent and slow pace allowed Anet to sculpt a tightly designed experience that is as shocking as it is memorable. I won’t forget that last visual.

Brandon Bales and Debi Derryberry probably did the best voice work in this episode (imo- I haven't played it through on a non-sylvari male). It was extremely immersive and I totally bought what was happening as they expressed it.  I appreciated that the Zephyrites’ song/choir got further development, and how its relevant to the story just made it a really nice touch overall. 

I did think it felt very short- only 3 instances. It may be that they pushed the pacing to emphasise the commander rushing headlong and gambling dangerously on the first ideas that come to them, and they do love a cliffhanger at the end.  It ends on a flat note though, you can’t even interact with story NPCs after you finish it- nothing in the shiverpeaks map changes, no dialogue no “I’m just checking in” updates, nothing.  Final Note: WHERE ARE KASMEER AND MARJORY 

The Map

Huge! Ruins! Subterranean structures! Exploring! Absolutely nailed the Guild Wars 1 Shiverpeak atmosphere.but uh...not much to do past that. 

The Thunderhead Keep meta is fun- I love defense events that allow us to set traps, build barricades and ballistae. The Boss is TOO BRIGHT. It is impossible to see even with effects turned down and post processing off. Anet needs to reassess their priorities with visual telegraphing because right now you can’t see a thing, never mind reacting to the thing. 

Minor Quibble. UH WHERE DID THAT CLIFF AND PIT COME FROM? I’m pretty sure that the mountains just...continued north of the keep in GW1, and a little further north you’d come to the Mursaat teleporter to Hell’s Precipice. 

The dredge meta is...hard to get people to defend the 2nd and 3rd drills- I’ve yet to be successful on this one. 

The delay between meta active times feels a bit long, and perhaps its just the layout of this one, but there isn’t much notification if North or south meta is happening/how long until X etc. 

I don’t like that Map Completion can’t be soloed- Both metas are required. Unless you find a friendly mesmer or buy the Light of Deldrimor from the TP. 

Past the Metas, I’ve seen maybe 5 or 6 events tops on this huge environment. That is pretty woeful. I get that this was probably a high budget episode with two cutscenes, unique character animations and PvE environments built to scale with the GW1 counterparts (why did dwarves build so big anyway?), but the overall quiet map is a bit of a let down- considering the variety of content available in Jahai.

I adore the skritt/priory interactions, and an above ground village of Dredge being shown in in a positive light. Even if literally every member of the survivors has had to kill their friends and family with their own hands. 

The Mastery 

Heavily Situational and will take some getting used to. It doesn’t have that immediate “Good Feel” as mounting your griffon midair or while gliding. Being “animation locked” for most of the launch prevents you from gliding or re-mounting, so you just plummet for the most part and lose out on any air you might have hoped to gain from using it. 

At least we can be thankful it wasn’t required to complete the story or meta.

The Fractal

Dreams: Crushed Hopes: Sundered Orr: Ignored.  Instead of picking an interesting pirate/corsair character that could use a bit of story development, they go with the boisterous ghost from the Lion’s Arch Jumping Puzzle. 

This fractal is short (at T1- it’ll likely have more complexity as you go up) and very sparse on story. The music is good, and the environment is good. Dessa continues to be the shining star of most fractals with her responses to the situations she gets to observe.  Probably won't be the new Challenge mode fractal that people were hoping for, but the fight mechanics are fun and different. 

I’d appreciate it if Anet could relinquish their choke grip they’ve had on talk like a pirate day 2012 that seems to permeate all of their pirate related content- it always feels kind of like even the characters themselves don’t take themselves seriously. There's just something pretty wack with them.  (and I’m not talking about all the landlocked core game pirates just living in lakes barely big enough for their bases) That’s Enough. 

The Legendary

Probably one of the nicest they’ve done in a while. Initially I was put off by it- the official preview of it in the reveal trailer didn’t really show it off very well- not the steps, aura or on-draw effect. However on this video from someone who got it before release, they point out a few things about it that really sell it for me.

I love the scorch mark on draw, with the dubstep twangs the most. A little disappointed that Range LB 5 is unaffected- it could have been very pretty (ie spirit bow active visuals).   It's a very refined weapon that will certainly suit a lot more characters than Kudzu, and I’ll probably make it after I finish Ipos. In like a year.

The Music

Knocks itself out of the park in a home run touchdown or however sports works. The choral piece for Aurene is very beautiful, and I especially appreciate the tarir motif used towards to the end of the track.  Re-used GW1 themes in the map give a very nostalgic feel, and the fractal has a unique Shanty theme, along with what was used for this year’s Festival of the Four winds. 

OVERALL SCORE 7.5/10

The story is moving and immersive, the encounters well designed and well executed, however sparse event placement on the map kinda gets :/ from me. 

Fractals continuing a trend of “we can do anything in the history of tyria- but lets focus on the boring parts” is also disappointing. 

PS. The .5 comes from the Skritt writing and voice acting.  So pure and wholesome. 

[spine-buster]

Samhain in the City - 31 Little Wrestlings Fics Challenge

A/N: Halloween fic challenge based on the genius minds of @thewriterformerlytaggedas and @fan-fiction-galore!  Thank you for including me, and I hope you all enjoy!

Please notice that there are some links included within the text to help you better visualize some things.

@wrestlewriting

@thegenericluchadora

@fan-fiction-galore

@anerdysouthernbelle

@spot-of-bother

@amaranthine-reign

@baleesi

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@sleeplessandcynical

It was a dark and stormy night…

Well, actually, not really.  It was dark, sure, but stormy it was not.  Not a drop of rain had fallen from the sky in three days – unusual for Edinburgh, especially in late October.  It put everybody in the city in a good mood, just in time for Halloween and the Celtic festival of Samhain, celebrated every year.

Edinburgh was a medieval city at heart.  It’s Old Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the stuff of wonders.  Old buildings, winding streets, secret closes, the historic Grassmarket – it had it all.  Tourists clogged sidewalks taking pictures of the old buildings; those who lived in the Old Town often couldn’t believe they were able to live in such historic structures.  The Royal Mile, for all it’s ‘find-your-clan!’ shops and tourist buses, provided the Old Town with its link from Edinburgh Castle, perched upon an extinct volcano looking down on the city, to Holyrood Palace, the seat of the British Royal Family in Scotland.  

But for Zadie, the posh New Town, also a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the main attraction.  Georgian architecture, streets (mostly) perfectly laid out in a grid, with parks and shops and cafes and anything you could ever want.  Princes Street, with its view of the medieval Old Town and its buildings looking as if they were built on top of each other; Rose Street, the charming alley of pubs only known to locals (aka no tourists allowed); St. Andrew’s Square and Charlotte Square, the picture perfect parks to stop and have a picnic or get in some good reading on a sunny afternoon.

There were more neighbourhoods, of course, that Zadie adored: Stockbridge, Marchmont, Morningside in particular.  Each had a uniqueness to it that couldn’t really be explained, only felt.  Maybe she adored the city due to her background in architecture – also what she was currently getting a Master’s in at the University of Edinburgh.  Maybe she adored it because it was unlike any other city she had visited.  Maybe she adored it because of the people.

It was most definitely the architecture.

All of this was lost on Adam Cole, the man Zadie had been chatting up at her friend Hamish’s house party.  He was cute, she was single, and Hamish knew him from work – best friends with a wrestler, he invited them all over to the house party last night after attending their show.  Now, there were at least seven big burly men stuffed into a flat in Marchmont, along with the regular assortment of friends and acquaintances, drinking cheap wine and beer and eating hors d’oeuvres from Tesco.

“I’ve never been here before,” Adam confessed to her as they sat facing each other on the couch, Zadie’s legs tucked underneath her as she held her third glass of white wine. 

“You’ve never been to Edinburgh before?”

“Nope.”

“But I thought you traveled around a lot for your job?”

“I do, but it’s mostly throughout America.  Sometimes mainland Europe.  When we come to the UK, we mostly stay down in England,” he explained.   “Edinburgh was always one of those cities that we never got to.  Sometimes we’d even plan to take a day trip, but we’d end up being so tired we wouldn’t go.”

Zadie furrowed her eyebrows.  “Edinburgh is always worth it, even when you’re tired!” she protested.  

Adam giggled.  “Well I can see that now,” he said, shifting so nudged closer to Zadie on the couch.  “Hey, why do you know so much about all the buildings in this city, anyway?” he asked.  

“Oh, well, I mean…I study architecture at the university,” Zadie said.

She watched as Adam visibly gulp.  “You’re in university?”

“Oh God, I’m not like, eighteen or anything!” she cleared up, knowing exactly what Adam was trying to get to.  “I’m a Master’s student.  I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh thank God,” Adam took a sigh of relief.  “I can’t be thinking eighteen year olds are cute.”

Zadie arched her eyebrow.  “You think I’m cute, then?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders playfully.  “Maybe.”  He took a sip of beer while still staring directly at her and Zadie could feel her cheeks blush at his intense stare.  His eyes were the perfect shade of blue and her consumption of wine wasn’t helping her cease her thoughts.  

“Why do you guys call Halloween Sam…Samh…Samson or whatever?” Adam’s voice interrupted her thoughts.  

She snorted.  “You mean Samhain [[sah-win]]?”

“Yeah.  What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s based on an ancient Galic festival.  Tonight marks the end of the harvest and the beginning of the dark half of the year,” she wiggled her eyebrows.  “Fuck Halloween.  We have a fire festival.”

“A fire festival?!” Adam asked.  Zadie nodded her head.  Adam leaned forward to whisper something in her ear; she could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin and a shiver run up her spine.  “What the fuck are we still doing in this apartment?  Let’s get out of here.”

It was a festival unlike anything Adam had ever seen before…

They had left the party pretty easily.  Adam counted only two pairs of eyes on them as Zadie slipped on her shoes at the front door, and Zadie was too excited, naming all the places she’d show him, to notice any eyes.  ‘We’re in Marchmont, which means we’ve gotta walk north’ she told him, as if that meant anything to him.  He just smiled and slipped his hand over hers, telling her to lead the way.  He was pretty sure he saw her swoon.

Zadie wasn’t kidding when she said it was a fire festival.  Some people had literal torches and were marching through the streets of Old Town, and there were many other fire sculptures on display; performers were doing tricks and busking at every corner, again, all dealing with fire; and everyone was singing songs in Galic and strong Scottish accents.  Adam was overwhelmed with everything that was happening around him, but he was having fun nonetheless.  He couldn’t keep the smile off his face the second he saw Zadie’s smile light up the night, too. 

As she brought him right into the middle of the crowd, he grabbed at her hand so either of them wouldn’t get separated from each other.  That, and for Adam’s own safety.  Everyone was having a lot of fun, but the whole sight of people carrying torches and playing with fire and chanting things in an ancient and foreign language was…creepy, to say the least.  “Uhh…is this the point where you hypnotize me, lead me to my untimely death, and everyone here sacrifices my body to the gods like some sort of lamb?”

Zadie let out an animated laugh at his question, moving towards a small pocket of less crowded space where they could breathe a little bit.  “Maybe.  If you’re good, we’ll find someone else to sacrifice.  Your good looks and hot body would make the gods very happy,” she joked.  Adam appreciated her humour in this situation, but he was pretty positive if they were in the medieval period, or whenever this festival started, he definitely would have been the sacrificial lamb.  “Despite that, are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Of course.  Better this than some house party in Marchfield, right?” he winked. “Marchmont,” she corrected him, giggling slightly.  “And yes.  Way better than some house party in Marchmont.  Even though some of the buskers are freaking me out.”

“Seriously?”  For someone who was so excited to show him the festival, he couldn’t believe that the buskers, of all things, would freak her out.  Not the chanting, or the fire…the buskers.

“Just the ones with those creepy masks,” she admitted.  “I’ve always hated them…I’ve watched too many horror movies.”

“If they’re freaking you out, we don’t need to be here,” Adam said.  “I can lie and tell everyone we stayed, but we can go somewhere else if that’s what you want to do.”

Zadie appreciated his offer.  Other people would have probably ridiculed her for being freaked out by something so juvenile.  Suddenly, an idea popped into her head.  “Come with me,” she said, grabbing at his hand and dragging him out of the crowd.

Adam followed her without hesitation, but when he realized they were walking farther and farther away from the crowd he became sceptical.  He thought she would maybe take him to a pub, not…wherever they were going.  “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“It’s time for your sacrifice,” Zadie deadpanned.

It was Adam’s turn to snort.  “Seriously.  Where are we going?  I’m a foreign man in a foreign city and you’re taking me somewhere at night all alone!”

Zadie raised her eyebrow at him.  “Foreign man?  Foreign city?  We speak the same language, you numpty.”

“Clearly we don’t, because I have no clue what a numpty is.”

“You’re going to find out by the end of the night, Adam Cole,” Zadie smiled coyly.  

As they continued to walk up the Royal Mile and down George IV Bridge, Zadie led Adam through gate adorned with ‘Greyfriar’s’ at the top.  Adam knew that everything about this part of the city was going to be old – super old, to his American standards – but this place was even older than he was expecting.  It was as if nothing had changed for centuries.  When he saw a tombstone, he stopped dead in his tracks.  “Seriously…where are we?” he asked, looking around.

“This is Greyfriar’s Kirk,” Zadie said.  Again, as if that meant anything to him.  “This is the most haunted place in all of Edinburgh…save for maybe the vaults.”

Adam gulped.  “Haunted?”

“Mhmm,” Zadie grinned.  “So the church was built in the 1600s, and about 1200 Scottish Covenanters were imprisoned here.  You have to keep to the paths because if you walk on the grass, there’s a good chance you’ll step on someone’s remains peeking through the eroded soil.  Tom Riddle – you know, like Lord Voldemort – he’s here too.  J.K Rowling used to write in a café down the street and she got her inspiration for his name from a gravestone here.”

Adam looked around.  The place gave him the creeps.  He didn’t doubt that everything Zadie was telling him was 100% true – that just made it creepier to him.  You could step on someone’s remains just by veering off the path?  No-fucking-thank you.  “Yeah, cool.  Can we go now?”

Zadie smiled.  “Don’t you Americans love your graveyards and haunted things on Halloween?”

“Sure, but that’s like…fake stuff.  That’s volunteers from your town dressing up and scaring you at the local rec centre turned haunted house.  Not…stepping on some prisoner’s bones in a medieval graveyard,” Adam explained, shivering. Zadie grabbed at his hand.  “Okay…next place I take you won’t be haunted.  Deal?”

Adam smiled down at her, already dragging her out.  “Deal.”

It was an adventure of a lifetime…

Cities at night were a journey all on their own.  A city at night was completely different from its daytime identity.  Adam was learning that Edinburgh had it’s own night time magic that came extremely close to surpassing its daytime beauty.  

Much like New York City, Edinburgh seemed to never sleep.  Zadie had taken him walking down The Mound and into the New Town, running into some rowdy teenagers drinking along the gates of the Scottish National Gallery.  They held hands as they walked along Princes Street, on the park side, so Adam could get a good view of Edinburgh Castle perched on its ancient volcanic rock.  He would lean down and kiss Zadie every time she told him wherever they were standing would make a great picture.  After she got the hint, she’d make the comment every ten steps.

They weren’t just kissing though – there was actual talking involved.  About his job, about her studying, about their passions.  How she didn’t always used to live in Edinburgh but moved here for good when she started university; how her parents still lived in the same little house in some town called Pebbles – Pobbles?  Peebles?  Peebles. – in the Scottish Borders.  How she had an older sister who recently got engaged.  How nothing ever happened in her town, which is why she needed to leave.

“Where did it all begin for you, then?” Adam asked as they sat on a curb in Charlotte Square, overlooking the classic Georgian townhouses that gave this area of the city it’s distinct character.  “Like…this love, this infatuation with architecture.  Where did it all start?”

Zadie smiled shyly.  “Right here,” she whispered, nodding her head towards the townhouses.  “Charlotte Square.”

“These ones specifically?”

She nodded her head.  “My school had a field trip to go see Bute House, which is the official residence of the Scottish First Minister…anyway, as we got off the bus, we walked along here and I just…fell in love,” she explained.  “They looked so fucking regal…like something out of a fairy tale, or like, where a princess would live if she wanted to escape from her castle incognito.  So I asked my teacher who built them, and she told me, and then I said, ‘I wish I could have built them’.  And then my teacher said, ‘Well, Zadie, maybe one day you will’.”  It was at this point she looked over to Adam to see him smiling.  “And ever since that day, I’ve been hell-bent on building these things.”

It was the most endearing story Adam had ever heard.  “Thank God for that teacher,” he commented.

“What about you?  Where did it all begin for you with wrestling?”

Adam hadn’t taken his eyes off her.  “With a house, too, actually.”

Zadie nudged him, thinking he was making fun of her.  “You’re just saying that,” she accused as he grabbed at her hand.

“I’m not, I swear,” he told her.  “My parents divorced when I was ten and my brother, my mom, and I moved back into my grandma’s house.  My karate instructor lent me a VHS of the latest Wrestlemania and when my mom wasn’t around, my grandma let me watch it.  I was hooked.  I told my grandma that I wanted to become a wrestler and she told me I could do whatever I set my mind to.  She’d let me practice on my brother when my mom was at work.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Zadie swooned.  “How bad did you beat up your brother though?”

Adam laughed.  “It wasn’t that bad.  There were never any bruises cause that meant my mom would find out.  We got away with a lot around grandma, let’s just put it that way.”

There was a comfortable silence between them, Zadie enjoying the feeling of Adam’s thumb rubbing the back of her hand.  After he had taken his eyes off of her, they settled back on to the townhouses.  Of course they were beautiful to the naked eye, but he wanted to try and see them as Zadie saw them; as magical, as ethereal structures that had so much life, so much history.  

They were silent for so long he thought she might have fallen asleep, but when she raised her head off his shoulder to look at him, he smiled at her.  He leaned in and kissed her quickly, and just as he was about to say something, his stomach growled loudly, embarrassing him.  Zadie laughed at the noise, but truth be told she was expecting it.  They had only snacked at the house party and hadn’t had anything to eat since.  She pushed herself up on her feet and held her hand out to Adam for him to grab on to.  He did and almost pulled her down with him, but she had enough leverage and Adam had the decency to not put too much of the strain on her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close.  She looked up at him with a smile.  “You want to get some lamb kebab?” she asked.

At her suggestion, Adam side-eyed her hard.  She started to giggle uncontrollably at the look on his face.  She thought she was so funny.  “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

She pursed her lips playfully.  “I don’t have to, you already told me you thought so.”  He leaned down to kiss her again, unable to resist.  “There’s one more place I want to show you,” she whispered.  “You up for it?”

“Let’s go,” he smiled, allowing her to pull him in whatever direction she wanted. 

“Okay, to be completely honest, I wasn’t ready for physical activity.”

“It’s not that much.”

“It’s enough.”

“You’re a wrestler!  Aren’t you like, fit?  Isn’t that your job?”

“I have a whole damn lamb kebab in my stomach, woman!”

“Okay, honestly, you would have definitely been the sacrifice to the gods.”

“Are we there yet?”

“Shush!” Zadie exclaimed, trying not to giggle.  “It’ll be one hundred and fifty percent worth it, trust me.”

“At least I’m working off that lamb kebab.”

Zadie tried not to roll her eyes at Adam’s complaints.  He grunted the entire way up and she was this close to trying to shut him up by kissing him the rest of the way up.  But that was dangerous, and she wanted him to work for the view he’d inevitably see.  

When they finally got to the top, she looked behind her.  Adam’s eyes were wide as he looked at the giant field and ancient monuments in front of him covered in a very thin layer of fog.  

“You bring me up Carleton Hill –”

“– Calton Hill –”

“— you bring me up Calton Hill, you beefed me up with lamb kebab, it’s fucking foggy…you really are sacrificing me, aren’t you?”

“It took you only a few hours to realize,” Zadie winked.  “I’m serious, Adam.  I know it looks like a giant foggy field with some old monuments right now, but it’s just the dew.”

“It’s not just the dew.”

“Okay, whatever.  Just follow me,” she pulled at his hand for the umpteenth time that night.  “And please…whatever you do, don’t look behind you.  At least not just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I want you to get the full effect in the perfect spot.  Also because you might fall in love with the city like I did if you’re not careful.”

Adam smiled for the first time since they had started the climb.  “Okay.  I trust you.”

She led him a bit farther up, made a few turns, and held Adam close.  To his credit, Adam hadn’t said a word and had even closed his eyes when she had asked him, for maximum effect.

“Are you ready?” she asked as she stood beside him, holding his hand and watching him to make sure his eyes were still closed.

“I’m ready,” Adam nodded his head.  

“Okay.  Open.”

Adam opened his eyes at her command and saw the city of Edinburgh in all it’s glory, in the dead of night, lit up in the most beautiful way.  So medieval, yet so modern.  So small, yet so large.  So vast, yet so local.  

He understood now why Zadie was so in love with the city.  He understood now why Zadie wanted to be in the city, study the city, live her life in the city.  He understood why she was so keen on showing other people the magic of the city.

He understood it all now.

He felt her squeeze his hand excitedly.  She had been watching his reaction the entire time.  “Have you fallen in love?” Zadie asked.

He looked down at her.  “I think I have.”

[samingtonwilson]

Prisoner- Jim Kirk

Title: Prisoner

Prompt: a part of the BBTM series. Prisoner by the weeknd featuring lana del rey. no one is imprisoned in this story it is called that because of the song it is based off of. 

Word count: 2,441 including the lyrics

Warnings: language, nothing else hopefully

A/N: IT’S BEEN SO LONG! i’ve been so busy running all over india, i’ve barely been able to write! well, finally, i’m posting something and that should be it for the next few days since my mom’s coming back to mumbai tomorrow and we’re finally gonna get to do stuff again that’s fun for me (aka shop n eat). i’ll try to write tonight, though, since my cousins are all studying and ask me to sit with them as it is. ENJOY IT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK i havent read this over so idk if it’s any good (oops) forgive the typos that are most likely there

You bring good to my lonely life, honestly It’s hard for me to look into your eyes When I say that I would be nothing without your love I feel the rush and it’s amazing

The mess hall was too loud. Conversations around Jim were more than abuzz and the volume at which the two unwelcome crew members sitting at his table crunched their synthesized celery made his hands form fists beside either edge of his tray, crumpling the pair of napkins he held. The smell of everyone’s food was becoming unbearable— even his own plate disgusted him. He ground his teeth together in reaction.

He narrowed his blue eyes at the glass of ice water before him, ignoring the goodbye’s the aforementioned crew members offered him. He was trying to focus on the condensation wrapped around the glass instead of the sound of your voice coming from the table behind him. He did his best not to twist in his seat to look at you and almost cracked a molar in the process. He wasn’t going to be the first to break— he couldn’t be the first to break.

But it’d only been two days. Two days since you asked Jim to pick— his stubbornness or you, his silence or you, his irrationality or you, his fear or you. At first, his decision was clear. He couldn’t let what he was most afraid of win and he wouldn’t let it. There were reasons he had built the walls he comfortably sat behind and he wasn’t going to give up those reasons— no exceptions. Now, though, the decision he made pinched him the wrong way. His ribs, tired and sore from his heart’s erratic, forceful beats, felt majority of the blow and his stomach only felt emptiness.

He wanted to pick you. He should have picked you.

He shook his head at the thought and pushed himself out of his seat. He straightened his shirt, his eyes on his shoes, and took a step backwards.

A soft clatter came as a result of his blind step and he heard the clicking of a tongue. “Great.”

He looked over his shoulder before turning and facing you as you stared at youe chest, a wet spot starting at the base of your high-neck uniform and ending below your chest. A half-empty glass was still in your hand and ice cubes were littered over the deck plating floor of the Enterprise mess hall. “Fuck.”

He didn’t inhale, he couldn’t exhale.

He wet his lips and held a paper napkin with thousands of wrinkles to you.

You looked up— first at the napkin, then at him, then at the napkin again. You took it from his fingers and looked at your blue uniform.

“Sorry.” He wasn’t sure for what he was apologizing: crashing into you, the inadequacy of his paper napkin that ripped the instant it touched your uniform, or everything else.

“Yeah, whatever.” You inhaled audibly and brought your gaze to meet his— he looked away. You were neither smiling, nor frowning— odd for such an expressive face. “It’s just water.”

Without much regard for his frozen stance, your shoulder brushed and pushed against his as you took steps towards the agape doors. Jim continued to stand, stare, and sigh.

Maybe I’ve been always destined to end up in this place, yeah I don't mean to come off selfish, but I want it all Love will always be a lesson, let's get out of its way Cause I know, all I know, all I know

Jim adjourned the meeting with even less enthusiasm than when he began it— something he, the crew, and anyone else in earshot for his half-hearted introduction didn’t think was possible. He watched as the senior officers on board shuffled out of the room, trying to keep his eyes away from you and Leonard as you spoke even though you were a constant blue blur in his peripheral vision.

“Captain?”

Jim’s gaze met yours immediately. He stood up straighter and unclenched his jaw. He pulled on the hem of his shirt and the high-necked collar felt suffocating.

He didn't know what to say— and his choice made him frown. “Hi.”

You offered him the smallest smile he’d ever seen from you and it lasted for a much-too-short moment. “Captain, I just wanted to make sure you've thought the away party through.”

He tried not to show how much you calling him ‘Captain’ truly bothered him. He wanted to look indifferent. “What do you mean?”

“You’re sending Doctor McCoy and Doctor M’Benga alongside majority of the attending physicians.”

“And?”

You frowned and leaned back against the table behind you, your hands flat against the surface. “It leaves me without much help— which I don't need for current patients. It's just leaving me alone in the medbay when we’re triaging a Federation border planet after a Klingon attack—”

“The Enterprise isn't at risk.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a possibility that—”

“The Klingons that attacked Caleb IV aren’t the toughest, nor are they the most intelligent. They won’t be able to harm the Enterprise.”

“But—”

“With the risk of sounding too much like Spock, there’s no logical reason to worry.”

He watched one of your eyebrows arch upwards. It was the most expression he'd seen over your features in some time. It was oddly satisfying. “At all?”

“From what I've been told: yes.”

“Don’t you usually say nothing is certain is space?”

“Do I?”

You tilted your head. “Send me, too.”

Jim snorted. “Why?”

“Bones and I work faster together than any of the other physicians you’re sending,” you said with a shrug. You then mumbled under your breath, “Especially Krishna and Sirleaf, who basically have one foot in the grave each.”

“Speed’s not at the top of my list of priorities.”

“Then what is? Efficiency? Surgical precision? Lower risk of post-op infection?” you asked, narrowing your eyes further with each question. “Because those should be, along with speed, in a medical situation. And, in that case, you should send me.”

He snorted again and noticed your features flash in reaction. “No.”

“Captain, —”

“I’m not sending you.”

“Is there a reason?”

He nodded with a frown of consideration. “Yeah. And it’s real good so you’re not going.”

“What if there’s an emergency on the planet?”

“If there’s an emergency on the planet and Bones is suddenly unable to do his job,” he began, narrowing his eyes a bit as he let his gaze travel over the empty conference room, “then he has M’Benga and the residents to take over, he has Krishna and Sirleaf to take over, he has nurses. If by some catastrophe all of them are unable to their jobs, we can beam patients aboard.”

“What if—”

“Besides, I need a senior medical officer without their foot in a grave on board.”

“Why? I thought nothing could happen to the Enterprise.”

“That was before I was reminded of the uncertainty of space,” Jim nearly snapped. “And no ‘what if’s’— they’ll never run out and aren’t worth discussing.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and your eyebrows came together. You looked like a stubborn child. “So you’re just going to keep me on board no matter what?”

He pretended to consider it. “Yeah, I am.”

“Why?”

“I already told you: I need a senior medical officer in the medbay.” His voice had grown angrier and his jaw was tensed. He took a short step towards you.

“Then keep M’Benga! He’s got more experience than I do!”

“You’re Bones’ second-in-command since M’Benga decided to take it slow,” he returned, in a louder volume that matched yours. “Having you on board is the closest thing to having him on board.”

You looked away for a short moment and met Jim’s eyes with a light behind your pupils. “In that case, Bones can stay on board and I’ll go.”

“No,” he said after snorting for a third time. “Absolutely not.”

“What? Why? Bones could run the medbay! Wouldn’t it be better to have the real thing instead of a second-string back-up?”

Jim could feel his teeth grinding and his chest puffing out. The anger that rolled off his body in waves didn’t force you back when he moved another inch forward. In fact, he noticed your pupils dilate. “No, (Y/N).”

You looked up at him from where you sat back against the table. “But—”

He leaned over a bit to put his hands on the table, his nose brushing against yours. His oceanic eyes followed yours, only stopping to glance at your lips. “Why are you so dead-set on going?”

“Why are you so dead-set on keeping me here?”

When he kissed you, he kissed you in a way that made him almost forget what you two were arguing about, why you’d been separated for so long, even his own name. He loved kissing you— the way your lips moved against his, the way you pulled on the hair at the nape of his neck, the way your skin felt under his hands.

He wound his arm around your waist and lifted you from the table once your legs were wrapped around him. He spun around to push you against the wall that was previously behind him, sighing at the feeling of your body against his.

As his lips moved to your neck, your voice shook, “We’re broken-up—”

“Stop calling me ‘Captain,’” he said onto your skin, drawing a gasp out of you when he bit down. “That’s not all I am to you.”

You pulled on his hair to bring his eyes back to yours. You were whispering when you spoke, “Then what are you? We’re not together anymore— all you are is my captain.”

He watched your eyes and felt his heart drop to his stomach. “I don’t want that.”

“And I don’t want to date you again,” you shook your head. “You put me through enough.”

“We don’t have to date.” He wanted to, though.

Before he kissed you again, he paused an inch from your lips. “You’re still not going on that mission.”

I’m a prisoner to my addiction I’m addicted to a life that’s so empty and so cold I’m a prisoner to my decisions Woooo, woooo, woooo

Jim was growing tired. He didn’t understand why the bags under his eyes never faded and his skin was nearly translucent. His voice was huskier, raspier than usual and his hair seemed to never behave. It was as if the wrinkles on his command yellow shirt appeared and stuck around to match the wrinkles creasing the skin of his forehead.

He was forced into the medbay by Leonard— something about his friend being concerned in a friendly way. Truthfully, Leonard was more concerned about being captained through the never-ending abyss of outer space by a man without any form of energy and every form of unhappiness; he couldn’t be bothered to keep up with the inner workings of Jim’s complicated love life.

As Jim sat in Leonard’s office, he spoke only when handed a newly refilled glass of scotch and it was a simple “thank you” he would offer— he didn’t know what to say otherwise. Leonard was okay with the silence, though, and didn’t pry much more than a simple, “How is everything?” to which he received a shrug in response.

Once Jim was able to excuse himself from the awkward silent drinking session, he walked down the corridors of the starship without any authority in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his back bent, he completed the look with a small frown that didn’t change no matter who he nodded a greeting towards.

His back straightened when he reached your door, however, and he did his best to do away with his frown as he knocked. He pulled on the hem of his shirt then.

“There has to be something better you can do with your time, Captain.”

Your voice did away with the exhaustion in his limbs and he was effortlessly able to take steps forward into your quarters. He reached behind him to slap his hand onto the control panel, allowing the door to shut as he continued to stare at you and trace your every feature with his gaze. “There isn’t.”

You resisted the urge to lean into his hand as his fingers skimmed over your cheekbone and down to trace your jaw, cupping your cheek and letting his thumb graze over your lips next. You had to stop yourself from sighing. “You look like you need rest.”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue, pressing his lips to yours for moments that were much too short. “What I need is you. Rest is secondary.”

“That’s an interesting thing to say to someone who isn’t your significant other.”

He clicked his tongue before claiming your lips with his once more. “It’s a normal thing to say to someone I spend the night with every night.”

“Say that out loud one more time and you’ll spend this night with your hand.”

He tilted his head. “What, the acknowledgement too much for you?”

“Yes,” you answered, helping him remove his shirt as he walked forwards and you walked backwards in the direction of your bed. “I prefer to pretend this isn’t happening, to pretend that you broke-up with me and I made the sound choice to be done with you.”

“You’re not done with me,” he wanted to ask you, but instead stated it like he was sure— perhaps to bolster his own belief. “Just like I’m not done with you.”

He felt you shiver against him when he pressed his lips to your neck once your t-shirt was tossed aside, his fingers moving up your bare sides. You remained silent as he joined your lips once more, allowing him to control your every move as he guided you towards the bed even more.

He stopped kissing you then. “You’re okay?” he asked, looking over your features as if to memorize them.

You nodded. “Yes. I just— I don’t understand why we aren’t done with each other yet. There’s no emotional fulfillment, it doesn’t make any sense. It’s like an unbreakable habit almost.”

Although he knew what drew him to you— your smile, the smell of your hair, the way you wrinkled your nose when you laughed, just everything about you— he knew you were drawn to him without identifiable reason. If anything, he knew you had reason to be repelled by the thought of him. So, with the intention not to risk anything doing away with his habit, Jim only shrugged.

[louisruegg]

PPD: An overview of Erasmus

In preparation for my Erasmus experience I had applied for accommodation via a Facebook page for students and landlords who were letting out rooms in Bologna. Unfortunately, the landlord I contacted was a scammer, and after arriving I saw that the apartment address was not owned by them. I lost the deposit and a month's worth of rent. I went to stay at a couple B&Bs for a while and ​the pressure to communicate was intense, relying on what little I knew of the language to buy food and enquiry about my surroundings, whilst frantically looking for permanent digs from where I could regroup my thoughts to plan for the months ahead.  

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On the third night, I found a student on the same Facebook page who said they had a room that I could rent from the beginning of April. I validated the room in person and agreed to the terms. In the meantime, she informed me of a student flat that recently said goodbye to a tenant, leaving a room available. It was a single room for 20 a night, no contract, just cash in hand per week. It was here where I ended up staying for the remainder of my time in Italy. 

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My host university, the academy of fine arts of Bologna, had been notifying all Erasmus students that they had to delay opening its doors to us for a few more weeks and that they would pass on any updates on the country's situation with the virus. 

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I had intended to use my time in Bologna to establish a presence amongst the art community, attending exhibitions and familiarising myself with the local galleries/museums like the ‘Pinacoteca Nazionale di Bologna'. I had mentioned in a statement prior to leaving the UK of how I wanted to research the works of the Transavaguardia painters of the 1980s, for artists references and to observe their style up close. Unfortunately, all museums and a majority of galleries were closed until further notice. All research I made was from online sources. 

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I was also eager to collaborate with other Erasmus students in the city; each of us contributing funds to rent out a space that we can convert into our own gallery for artwork we produce during the second semester. It would’ve been a great opportunity to network with critics and influencers at the university and create awareness of my online presence. Unfortunately, I didn’t spend enough time in Bologna to accomplish this. 

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I spent my time instead touring the city. What immediately caught my attention when taking some time to explore was how the entirety of the old architecture in the city adopted a warm comforting colour pallet of reds, oranges and yellows. Due to this, the city is referred to as La Rossa (The Red); this being one of three nicknames that describe an aspect of Bologna. For its renowned culinary delights and having the oldest still operating university in the western world, the city also bears the nicknames, La Grassa (The Fat) and La Dotta (the learned). I later discovered that the terracotta coloured buildings were also a visual representation of the Left leaning communist council that governed the city after world war two. Bologna was considered the anti facist capital during the war, supporting egalitarianism, and continued to be the stronghold of Italy’s communist party years after. 

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Despite the delay of the university opening, the Erasmus exchange coordinator Professor Maria still met up with me and all the other Erasmus students for a briefing at the Fountain of Neptune in the Piazza Del Nettuno. She explained that the statue was designed by Giambologna and was commissioned by Pope Pius IV as a message to the people of his power over the city, which was further conveyed by his order to alter the rest of Piazza’s architecture. Despite the church having decided on this, the statue doesn’t exactly resonate as a typical religious art piece of its time; it was seen to represent pagane sensual imagery. The roman god neptune; big muscular form, surrounding maidens spraying water from their breasts. There’s a silly myth that the sculptor wished to have the statue's genitalia much bigger. Being a testament of the pope's control of the city, the church obviously would have their issue with this. To spite the decision, Giambologna redesigned the statue to have the thumb on the left hand to be outstretched so that, from a certain angle, it would look as if the statue had an erect penis. 

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Within the Piazza we also got to see the Biblioteca Salaborsa (public library) and the hidden bizzares amongst the square, later journeying along what remains of the outer walls and towers of the city. The towers were various in size, they say it was the result of a power struggle between the richest families who lived in the city; undermining each other's efforts by having a bigger tower built to show dominance.

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Nearly all the canals that flow through the city have been obstructed by buildings, but before the 60-kilometer network of waterways were the powersource of the local silk industry; watermills were the key to production. This hydraulic system was also an essential energy source to other local trades and for water features throughout the city. ​

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The only remaining place from where the public can see one of these canals is this one window viewpoint. From here I took the photograph opposite. I'm told it's a go to place for tourists wanting to take a beautiful iconic shot. 

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During the tour of the city, Professor Maria led us to the sanctuary of the  Madonna of di san Lucca. Along the journey we all had to traverse up 4 kilometers of stairs sheltered by these grand arches. The longest in the world. Among some of the walls were biblical murals that would greet us, like an audience commending our progress. Once at the top, the sight of the basilica church was breathtaking both inside and out, as well as a spectacular view of the country landscape. Although I couldn't take pictures, I still remember the coveted art piece surrounded in gold and marble. The 'virgin with child' painting. The Madonna, proudly regarded as the heart and treasure of the Bastillica. It is said that she watches over the city below from the hillside.

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During my stay here, I continued to work on a few commissioned pieces for clients who hired me prior to me leaving the UK. One was an A3 graphite drawing of her seven grandchildren for £150; I was sent three photographs and asked for each of the children to be drawn as if they were a part of the same image. As well as checking the updates from UAL and my host university, I spent each night working on the drawing until it was ready to be shipped to the client via ‘Mail boxe's’ postal services.

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The other was a logo for a ship inspection company. The client required a series of sketched designs that would be passed onto a third party to be made into a vector image logo on adobe illustrator. It had to follow blue and green colour schemes and to not include any cliche imagery like anchors or ship steering wheels. £50 job ​

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An update from the Italian government stated that public transport would be suspended from the following day. That same day my host university informed me that the virus crisis was worsening and that they recommended we leave if possible. ​

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That evening I made changes to my plane ticket and got one of the remaining flights for the next day. With the public transport being suspended, I decided to leave that evening and spend the night at the airport. On the journey, I thought out my options for where to stay when I arrived back into London Heathrow. Coming from northern Italy I was advised to isolate for two weeks. At this point I was still uncertain of the severity of the coronavirus in the UK, but fortunately I was still able to catch a train back to Torquay, where I could spend my two weeks of self-isolating at my Dads flat while he was away.