#unhinged notes on the Creative Process still to come!

[lordschadenfreude]

Cover Design Mock-Ups for my fan-binding project of 'this story that we found ourselves in' by the incomparable @eskawrites

Photo and artist credit for covers 4-6 under the cut.

4. Painting - Alyssa Monks - Morning After II (2014) (https://www.alyssamonks.com/2010-2014/)

5. Photograph - Elsa Boscarello Photography (https://www.elsaboscarello.com/blog/laketahoeproposal)

6. Photograph (Snowy New York Street) - Photographer Unknown (if you know, please send me a message!)

[merionettes]

part 1 of how rubicon got written is here. this is part 2, aka the essay about etc.

the thing about the storyboarding/drafting process that there is no way to describe is how totally obsessed i was for the duration. afterwards i tweeted something like, this is the closest i've ever experienced to demonic possession. i would get up, write all day—like, all day—and go to bed. turn off the lights. then i would just lie wide awake in the dark with lines and scenes and dialogue scrolling through my head until i gave in and opened my notes app. i could not turn it off even if i wanted to. and i didn't want to, i was riding that streak as far as it would take me. because i couldn't look down, right? i could sense what i was attempting to do and anything other than total tunnel vision full speed ahead eyes on the prize would mean i had to acknowledge it.

(context of what made this possible: i was unemployed at the time.)

for the first ~50k or so i was afraid that at any minute i could falter. when i got to the nationals meltdown, that was when i knew i could do it. like, no matter what happened after that, i had the willpower and the chops and i knew where i was going. even if the streak died.

but it didn't. i wrote 100k in a little under 4 weeks. i've never experienced anything like that in my creative life. 

—then obviously i had to get a new job and come back down to earth and it took 21 months to get from there to posting the epilogue. still. i will probably be chasing that high for the rest of my life. that was the part that like… made the rest of it possible. no matter how difficult or frustrating it was. that generated the roadmap. 

i've talked about this before in comments but i had insanely strong opinions about what was "right" and what wasn't. sylvain's narrative voice was a huge part of that. it's inextricable from the content; it shaped the story; it is the story. for the first couple months it also made me an unhinged stylistic tyrant. if there was one single unnecessary word that struck me as inorganic, as existing solely to make the sentence more digestible or to convey information beyond the fourth wall, it had to go. i could not rest until it did. 

once again: this is not generally the relationship i have with writing. lol. it's the demonic possession talking. this is why you have a ton of sentence fragments and stylistic tics and a refusal to let one single shred of information into the text that did not strike me as something sylvain would plausibly think or acknowledge he was thinking. and like, yeah. probably it didn't always make for the smoothest reading experience or the most satisfying narrative development. i'm dead certain there are people who picked this fic up and the bumps drove them out of their mind until they threw in the towel. i just didn't care. 

part of that was a reaction to my own old style—you know, the discomfort of shedding old skin. i'd look at those early scene attempts and see all the habits and crutches i'd been trying to move away from over the last two years and double down on The Voice. but part of it… i would get early feedback that wasn't at all wrong, like "what if [clarifying narration]," "what if [more interaction]," and i'd just think, but that's not true. in exactly those words! which is crazy.

(this is why it was fortunate this was fanfiction i was writing for free, i didn't have to compromise my bonkers experience any more than i wanted to.)

to be clear this feeling didn't last two years. i was eventually able to edit like a normal person. it did last probably longer than ideal. and the point when i was no longer running on unleaded creative adrenaline was when i started to really struggle with the middle of the story. i had to make choices as a writer, instead of relying on the purity of my divine vision or whatever, and i second-guessed myself a lot. it was much easier to feel that absolute bone-deep certainty of Right and Wrong, True and False. and the thought of fucking up when i'd gotten so far was unbearable—like, being so close to making the thing in my head reality and then dropping the ball and breaking the suspension of disbelief.

distance also made it possible to perceive what i was doing and be like, jesus mer what the fuck are you doing. why are you devoting so much of your time to a hobby, why are you investing so much of your life in something you will never be able to truly share, why are you living in a hole with no one else in it. why are you putting yourself through the wringer to get it down "right." why does it matter if it's as good as it can be. why do you care. why is this worth it.

i assume this was pretty obvious before this post, but if not it must be now. this story isn't really about figure skating. for me it's about writing; who knows what it's about for you. i didn't sit down and think, great, felix will be a metaphor. that's just how it happens. 

the experience of writing a novel for the first time: i'm saying this with my whole chest because at one point i wouldn't have, aloud. but what's the point in calling it anything else? i know exactly how much i invested in this. i'm the only one who can know. that's sort of the point. 

here's a giant collage of the inside of my head. i made it for myself and i take it very seriously. not exactly groundbreaking to say this is the ultimate exercise in solipsism. when you're doing that—what greater gift is there than to have someone else meet you in exactly the same place. any writer would kill for the kind of responses this story has gotten, and i don't mean praise. i mean the close reads, the free response essays, the total and complete validation that this thing inside your head that only you can see is real, actually. when i say thank you, it's not for liking it or praising it—it's for taking it seriously. i loved this thing. i still love this thing. thank you for taking it seriously.

[radarsteddybear]

Highlights (or should I say lowlights?) from the Making of Frozen II documentary on Disney+:

It is important to note that the documentary begins 11 months from the film's premiere. At this point, the movie's already been in production for like 4 years.

The female director (Jennifer Lee) looks to be inches away from a mental breakdown the entire time

Jennifer Lee is also the film's writer and at one point describes getting up at a quarter to five every day so that she can write from 5am-7am, get her daughter to school, goes to work all day, comes home, does whatever is needed at home, then writes some more. On Saturdays, she writes from 5am-1pm. I don't know anything about the process of making an animated (or non-animated, for that matter) film, but it seems absolutely unhinged to me that so much script writing is required this late in production. Especially coupled with how much of the film's plot and motivation are still unknown at this point.

Jennifer Lee was also promoted to Chief Creative Officer or something at some point in there, so she has a million and one things to do for that on top of everything for Frozen II.

So, yeah. She seems to be in a constant state of being on the verge of tears and is only holding it together through sheer willpower.

Disney seems to be trying to pass this off as joy and happiness and excitement about pieces of the film finally coming together, and Lee probably believes that's what it is, too, but I think this woman just needs some sleep.

The script finally gets locked 5 months out from the film's premiere. Which, like, I totally get having it open for edits along the way, but this was. a lot more than just edits.

It takes them ages to figure out who/what the voice calling to Elsa is and where she's following it to, which is like. the entire plot of the film. And in my opinion (and from what I remember, having only seen the film once back when it came out), as a result, this is one of the weakest plot points in the whole movie, which is really unfortunate because it has everything else it needs to hit really solidly.

5 months from the premiere, they keep talking about how everyone's putting in 14 hour days 6 days a week, and they keep referring to it as overtime, but I have no idea whether or not the animators and visual effects artists and everyone else working on the film actually get paid overtime? I sure hope so (which leads to another question: is the money actually worth it?), but in this economy, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

At one point, one of the supervising animators talks about how he spends the whole day split between meetings and supporting the animators so he has to come back to work after putting his kids to bed to actually get his own animating done. He describes this as a "treat" because he enjoys animating so much.

Disney (and other studios, I'm sure) needs to get their act together re: division of labor and organizing everyone's time, wow.

The visual effects artist who did Elsa's dress transformations in both Frozen I and II: "In Frozen I, I had a year. But this, it's been...four days." (Note: It does end up being more than 4 days, but, uh...not by much.)

I seriously think the movie, especially the story, would have been better if everyone could have taken like. a month off from work

The film's editor talsk about working 14-15 hour days, getting up at 3am so he can get to work by 3:30, use the on-site gym for half an hour, then start editing by 4am. Whoever's in charge of setting all these timelines and whatnot is in desperate need of taking a course in proper time management because this is unhinged.

I wonder if all the Frozen II statues/decor Disney put up around the animation studio towards the end of production come out of the film's budget.

It's fun to get to watch the actors record their lines and songs, though.

As was watching the animator who did part of Kristoff's song with all the reindeer put videos of her own face in the scene to figure out how she was going to animate them all.

[grim-glasses]

Absolutely unhinged Grelliam rambling

(To save time, please assume that each paragraph begins with "in my opinion" because this isn't a meta post, I'm not trying to be like "omg they're endgame and this is Yana's vision" I'm mostly talking about my creative process and the transformative nature of fanworks. My fanworks specifically.

Note: The Tale of Will the Reaper does not exist to me. I Do Not See It.

Not sure if I'm just experiencing Visions or what but I do think that Grelliam could be endgame with quite honestly only very small amounts of character development

I was struggling with writing the ship for a while because I really liked it but as it stands Will and Grell have like 0 chemistry and really REALLY fall into that 2010s-era "sexually inappropriate dumbass x emotionally stunted asshole who beats the shit out of them & we're supposed to find this cute and funny because it's the 2010s" dynamic

So I was really struggling finding a way to like. write that dynamic in a deep, meaningful way. Because in order to do that, you have to take it seriously, I think? You either have to take it seriously and consider them a couple that is uncomfortable with each other or dial it back into something you can work with.

The problem is, as side characters, if you take that away, there's nothing left. Grell is just some weirdo with a crush and Will is. wallpaper.

The only solution, thus, is to develop it. And I finally "solved" Grelliam in a way that works for me.

You seeee, I initially thought Will was The Problem. So naturally, if I crafted some sort of scenario in my head where he changed to accept and reciprocate Grell's feelings, that should fix it, right?

Wrong.

The problem was, I still didn't believe it.

It didn't work for me at all.

Even if you headcanon him as demi, which I do, there's still this strange sense of mismatch, that Grell is over-performing in a way, or perhaps... over-compensating?

I sat with this weird Grelliam mismatch for months trying to come up with some fanfic plots, some ideas, something to compel me, but I really could not find any appeal in a love story where only one person is transformed. It turns Will into a problem and Grell into a solution.

But then I realized that Grell is, in fact, also a problem.

Her feelings and expressions are WAY too over-the-top to be believable or even... genuine. I started thinking about what she said to An right before killing her (in the anime, anyway, bc I've watched that scene more than I've read it)

Also I'm paraphrasing because I'm not about to go look up the scene just to get the quote right in some absolutely unhinged Grelliam ramble

But it was something along the lines of "what use are you to me if you're just another woman?"

Because Angelina hesitated to kill Ciel. Because she showed weakness.

From this and Grell's attraction to Sebastian and Will, I think it's fair to draw the conclusion that it's not aloofness she's attracted to, but resolution, stoicism, drive, immovability. We can guess that she's not lithro, because she was in a reciprocated relationship with An.

It's displays of excess emotion and vulnerability that turn her off.

That being said, I don't think she knows just how deep her feelings for Will go. I think she's counting on him to never, ever break. To never cry, to never bleed, to never smile. I think she feels very safe in that.

That needs to go.

I think, the Inciting Grelliam Incident, the moment that shatters the status quo into a million little pieces on the floor, that changes everything

Is

That

Will needs to show some kind of weakness

And Grell needs to keep loving him anyway

I could keep going but I ran out of steam anyway my point is I can write Grelliam now because I finally have an idea of what I want their fucking dynamic to look like

[sophsun1]

contrary to the other anons opinion, i think you should make MORE qaf gifs!!!

but on the real, i’m one of those people who didn’t watch qaf until this year and it’s been such a treat to be able to come to your blog every day and see new qaf content so thank you!

Hey anon!

Aww, thank you I really appreciate you saying that and I'm glad you enjoy the content. It's why I do it, so me and other fans can see it and to spread a tiny bit of escapism happiness 💕

To be honest I wouldn't have even acknowledged that anon because the best way to deal with hate is to straight up block and delete. Don't even give them your energy as the issue is with them and not you. But what triggered me was the blatant entitlement and rudeness that they had a right to tell me what to post on MY blog. As far as I'm aware I do not have a gun to their head or anyone's asking them to follow me if they don't like what I post. I would rather you unfollow and go enjoy the things you want to see, why make yourself upset over something that is so avoidable and trivial in the grand scheme of things.

You are in charge of what you see on here, unfollow, block, filter the tag are all options available to you so the idiocy of going to the blog owner and demanding they tailor their content to suit you is ridiculous.

Plus I came onto tumblr posting qaf and have been doing so for TWO YEARS. My icon is qaf and so is my header and if you ask my mutuals/followers what is Soph known for? they'll say oh she's the one posting qaf! It's not like it's not obvious I post about it. I didn't know my two whole gifsets a day was overkill, and what made me laugh was I do post gifs about other shows, my top posts reflect that and are all non qaf related! My other show interests are on hiatus so I can't exactly magic up content to gif. I make a lot of gifs for fandoms that don't even have active gif makers anymore so yk.

There's enough unkindness in the world as it is, and I use tumblr and gif making as a creative escape as do the majority of content creators on here, whether it's answering asks, writing fic, writing meta, funny posts etc whatever. It's my tiny safe space to be silly and post with and for my followers. I go through enough shit in real life I don't welcome it here.

The major reason why I love posting gifs in general for qaf is because I only discovered the show two years ago and when I came on here there was zero content. So I took it upon myself to learn gif making and I'm 100% self taught, no one has shown me how to do anything I've had to go search it myself. I'm really fucking proud of how far I've come with making them, from my grainy and uncoloured ones which I still smile at because I made them with love to the ones that I create now. It takes literal hours and the process isn't easy. So now to be the one posting stuff for old fans, new fans to discover is me coming tumblr full circle!

There's many gif makers like me that create for "dead fandoms" or forgotten shows, and sometimes it might be that if we didn't post then there would be nothing for people to enjoy like it was for me. I've had people who followed me from day one and my first ever britin gifset who still pop up in my notes now and people who have discovered the show from my gifs, and ones like you who come to the tag and see my unhinged self all over it.

So in conclusion my point is first off think twice before you hit that anon button with hate, because there's a real life person behind that icon who is causing you no harm so have the decency to do the same in return. Imagine someone did become self conscious after getting that ask and stopped posting something they like. Let people enjoy what they want and it's first world problems to be complaining about, I don't take stuff on here seriously when it's fandom stuff but I don't care for nastiness towards anyone.

I wish more people did make qaf gifs so I would have stuff to reblog myself and could take a break lmao it's lonely out here. It doesn't even have to be gifs, it can be meta, mood boards, screenshots, fic anything. So qaf fans get to it pls...

Keep creating what you like, for me it doesn't have to be the best quality gifs or greatest technical gifset. What makes me smile and I love seeing is people post stuff because they wanna have fun, they took the time and effort to create and post because it came from the heart. So fuck anyone else as we're all losers on tumblr together!

[27timescinema]

PANEL – MIU MIU 2024 #2

By Esmée van Loon (NL), pics © Gregor Valentovic (SK)

At the Venice International Film Festival, Miu Miu hosted its Women’s Tales panel, focusing on the experiences of women in the film industry. The discussion featured actresses Molly Gordon, known for her role in The Bear, and Jasmin Savoy Brown from Yellowjackets. Over 45 minutes, they explored topics such as the unique challenges women face in film, the creative processes they embrace, and the opportunities offered by platforms like Women’s Tales to tell authentic stories.

The panel began with an introduction to Miu Miu’s Women’s Tales, a celebrated initiative that has commissioned short films by women directors for over a decade. The series has featured a range of notable filmmakers, such as Ava DuVernay and Dakota Fanning, showcasing the importance of diverse voices and unique narratives in cinema. The speakers praised Women’s Tales for creating a space where women can express their creativity in a medium that is often limited by commercial constraints.

Molly Gordon shared her journey from acting in small roles to her recent success with The Bear. She reflected on her experience working in an industry that often prioritizes male narratives and spoke about the impact of short films as a medium to experiment and hone one’s craft. She highlighted how the rise of digital technology has made filmmaking more accessible, allowing for more experimentation with storytelling techniques. Gordon expressed her desire to direct in the future, despite acknowledging the challenges that come with transitioning from acting to directing.

Jasmin Savoy Brown, on the other hand, discussed her varied roles across genres, from horror in the Scream series to the dramatic mysteries of Yellowjackets. She spoke candidly about how the industry is evolving, yet still presents obstacles, particularly for women of colour. Brown underscored the importance of authenticity and the freedom to explore diverse characters and stories, noting that platforms like Women’s Tales play a crucial role in providing women directors with the chance to create impactful narratives that may not align with mainstream studio expectations.

Both actresses emphasized the importance of creative freedom. They highlighted the value of short films as a format that allows filmmakers to experiment without the pressure of a full-length feature. Gordon noted that the short film format serves as an excellent “proof of concept” for directors looking to develop their ideas further. She underscored how this medium offers a way to create compelling content in a condensed form, which can capture audiences’ shorter attention spans while still providing meaningful storytelling.

Savoy Brown agreed, sharing her love for improvisation and spontaneity on set, which she feels brings a level of authenticity and freshness to performances. She explained how allowing for unexpected moments—whether through improvisation or by working with children and other non-actors—can create a genuine connection with the audience. Both actresses shared a common passion for pushing boundaries and finding unique approaches to filmmaking that honour their artistic visions. They expressed a wish to explore more “insane” or “unhinged” roles, implying a desire for greater freedom to portray characters with intense, unrestricted emotions.

The panel at Miu Miu’s Women’s Tales highlighted the ongoing challenges women face in the film industry, but also celebrated the opportunities and spaces being created for women to tell their stories. Both Gordon and Savoy Brown expressed hope for the future, where initiatives like Women’s Tales will continue to grow, paving the way for more diverse, inclusive, and authentic narratives.

Ultimately, the discussion reinforced the idea that while progress has been made, there is still much work to be done. With platforms like Women’s Tales leading the charge, there is great potential for continued innovation and representation in cinema.

[reflectionsofneptune]

little thoughts about the personal, social and universal signs

― personal signs

the personal signs in astrology relate to the first four signs of the zodiac: aries, taurus, gemini and cancer. being the first sign of their respective element, it is safe to say that in these signs, one can see the most rawest expression of fire, earth, air and water. they can be quite selfish and childish, experiencing the world directly through their own judgements and analysis which they believe to be gospel. this subjectivity can cause them to have an often inner fragility which they cover up by exuding a sense of not caring for anything that doesn’t matter to them. but, this false sense of awareness they may portray can cause them to get riled up at any inquisitiveness about their very make up. tell an aries that they cannot do something and watch how quickly they achieve something, often times all by themselves. or, lightly comment to a taurus that their project will never amount to nothing, and years later, bump into them doing better off than you could have ever envisaged. question a Gemini’s viewpoint and see how fast they pull up their multiple references which leave you twiddling your thumbs. invalidate a cancer’s gut feelings and see how in the end, it is you with your feet in the mud as they wave from the sidelines.

their own point of view is considered first before anyone else, and so can cause them to be quite narrow-minded but also authentic in their expression. a cancer is often the go-to for emotional problems in a situation only because they themselves know the simmering undercurrents between a significant relationship can lead to a volatile explosion, effects long lasting. a taurus can be a reputable person to go to for advice on saving in life because they know that when they can’t control the events in the outside world, they can control the things accessible to them and work from there. if you need a pep-talk, one very straight to the point, an aries can deliver that as they know honesty in the best policy. with a gemini, they will be a great person to get you out of the house as they know that there are so many places to see, back roads to explore and conversations to be had in the world.

― social signs

the social signs in astrology relate to the signs in the middle of the zodiac which are leo, virgo, libra and scorpio. no longer are we just seeing the world through our own eyes, but another person’s POV is considered, too. with their relationships in life being the ‘vehicle’ in how they see the world, and their external reality being a reflection of their inner reality, they can better understand themselves through others. in leo, the self is acknowledged as a creative being and so wants to dive deep in these feelings of joy and playfulness by connecting with others. humility is the name of the game for virgo, where one’s efforts are analysed in relation to another’s efforts and adjustments are made accordingly. for libra, one discovers more about themselves by relating to another person’s experiences in life and holding space accordingly. in scorpio, the self undergoes great transformation which brings it closer to itself, and to another in the process. 

for social signs, they really need to watch the company they keep. innate within them comes great pleasure when their loved ones are happy as they won’t hesitate to be there for them, but sometimes they don’t get that in return. they need to make sure their cup is filled before they give to others, because when they give, they give a hell of a lot. a leo needs to make sure that they don’t overdo it with the generosity towards others that it becomes something expected of them each time. the tendency to jump in and help people they care about for a virgo is common but discernment is needed to see holes in a ship as salvageable or not. in libra, letting bygones be bygones only works for so long before the scales remain glaring unbalanced. with scorpio, when they merge the self on more levels than one with another, they need to take note of what the other person is bringing to the table. 

―the universal signs

the universal signs in astrology relate to the signs nearing the end of the zodiac, which are sagittarius, capricorn, aquarius and pisces. these signs relate the self in relation to the wider world and society. the narration is no longer ”I” or “You and I’’ but ‘’Us’’. they go through life, not experiencing it deeply on a personal level or though other people but though things happening in the collective. for them, their perspective on things is often on the greater picture of things. decisions are based upon what they deem to be philosophically and spiritually correct. for a capricorn, the self has a strong urge to succeed in society because they would like to leave a legacy behind. with sagittarius, the self relishes the freedom of just expressing their opinions and ideals, sometimes ‘larger than life’ and seeing how they fit in with society.  for an aquarius, the self has a strong urge to be apart of a greater collective movement but still wants to stand out in their own unique fashion. for a pisces, the self has a strong urge to connect with the divine source in the world through the wide array of experiences we collectively go through; grief, joy, compassion, forgivenesses, healing, etc.

they represent the last quarter of the life journey of higher vision, pinnacles of growth, achievement in society and universal love. all the previous lessons of the signs before them in their element are acknowledged but with that, comes the responsibility which can bear a lot to handle. and so this is where the sense of detachment comes in as sometimes these signs need to isolate from others to reboot themselves. a sagittarius can seem very hard to pin down, in love, in work, in whatever, but perhaps this is because a reality free of boundaries is something that their very sense of self depends on. a capricorn can seem like a workaholic but maybe it’s because they have this sense of time running out and what they envisioned for their material world not coming to fruition. an aquarius may seem aloof, but perhaps this is because they know how much power intention, combined with the intention of others, manifests in change that is sure to ripple through though society and that is of the most importance right now. a pisces may seem unhinged, but perhaps it is because arguably, they are tasked with the karma of all the signs that went before, and transmuting all that energy is not a one day feat, but more, a life long one in a way.

[caffeineandcurses]

Stash’s Chai Spice Black Tea

Welcome, to my first venture into content-writing on this blog - journal? Post? 

I don’t really know what the kids are saying, and I don’t know that I ever really did, so let’s stick to blog, it’s nice and informal. I normally make a bit of fun about recipe blogs that start with a long rant of back-history, but it seems misinformed to not TRY to relate a bit of myself to what I’m writing, for the question of ‘why this’. For the well-intended record, let’s also start with ‘who am I’ - hello! My name is Kay. I’m a 23-year veteran of the internet (my twitter account is old enough to have a twitter account!), and a 33-year veteran of living, with a variety of hobbies and interests in the creative and the fictional. 

I got interested in the rituals of coffee around four to five years ago, but fell out of habit with it in 2019 due to digestive health issues. I was in the middle of a lot, then, and started to research and self-diagnose myself reading up on the symptoms and behavior of those with ADHD, under the purview of habits I noticed, and the relationship to my post-caffeinated self’s improvement. I still consumed a lot of energy drinks, sodas and teas to get my caffeine content, but it wouldn’t be until just this year, this month, March 2021, that I would get my answers.

I DO have the inattentive-type of attention-deficit hyperactive disorder. That is why, most likely, I am somebody who definitely benefits from a healthy relationship with caffeine. Someday, I may even be someone who benefits from a healthy relationship with a psychiatrist and/or therapist, and is on a proper medication for it, but, for now, caffeine is my go-to drug.

And let’s be honest: caffeine is a drug! And I’m NOT a doctor. Take use of it seriously. This isn’t my place to glorify abuse of over-the-counter substances. Just to talk about the habits I uptake, and share how I enjoy it, to maybe help others, and how I make it a fun habit for me, to stay attentive to what I’m doing and enjoy my experiences of reality.

I hope that wasn’t too much to get through - and if you skipped ahead to the next bit because you just wanted to know it and nothing about me? I don’t blame you. 

Today’s drink!

Stash’s Chai Spice Black Tea

With black teas, by the way, you normally have 47mg of caffeine per tea bag. Thank you, Google - please don’t laugh at my search histories.

An aside - what we’re really talking about with “chai” is “masala”. “Chai” just means tea! 

My preparation:

Two teabags

Temperature-safe mug

Two big spoonfuls of sugar

A splash of milk

Steeped for just under 5 minutes.

Most black teas say “3-5” minutes, and I enjoy a strong-tasting tea, so that’s my personal process. There’s a particular flavor of tannins on most black teas that I think the spiced flavor cuts, even if I have steadily added less and less sugar into how I drink it. 

I am not INCREDIBLY indulgent with my regular tea buys. I just have a stovetop kettle, and mostly use bagged teas for convenience, because too much to clean up after and sometimes I lose track of it if I just want my fix, which is honestly, a shame on ME. One day when I have a lot of disposable income, I would love to try one of the traditional masala chai recipes out there for the thrill. 

As it stands, on my CURRENT budget; I buy a lot of Bigelow brand teas, usually, but after not being able to find a flavor that REALLY appealed to me in its brand a while back, I bought a few of Stash’s, and I think they actually have the most appealing FLAVORED teas I had. Tea is the least jittery caffeine intake I indulge in that I still feel. Another bonus of the clean flavor, both on Stash and on the spice of the tea itself, is that it doesn’t feel like it leaves as bitter an after-taste that most plain black tea has.

Which is not to say that I don’t enjoy a good black tea without flavor - there’s something pleasantly floral about it once you adapt to it that’s “delightfully complex”, as it were. My other masala tea comparisons do mostly come from Bigelow, specifically, their Vanilla Chai. Memories of that one are from before I grew unhinged, steeping for longer, throwing in extra tea bags, so on and so forth, but I remember its flavor being less bold. Stash’s Chai Spice DEFINITELY feels like it has a more robust flavor, with cinnamon being the strongest note I am able to pick out.

About halfway through the drink is when I see myself start to bring my work into focus, and once it’s finished, I’m usually set on being able to hit finer details of whatever I was working on. 

The most strong hold of tea, or coffee, and its ritual, is also the concept of its power to make you sit, and finish it. If I have nothing pinning me to my workspace, I’m more likely to wander. But, PARTICULARLY with a fresh hot cup on my desk that I want to enjoy before it cools, I feel alert, compelled to focus with my leaf water.

A special note - when I first started drinking tea and talking about it when I was younger, a rando on the internet felt it necessary to inform me that I wasn’t drinking it right. Logically, I know now that person probably has a really unpleasant personality and younger-me shouldn’t have been so upset, but I want to state for anyone else who’s trying to enjoy a fun new beverage: all that matters is if it makes YOU happy. 

And if what you’re doing doesn’t harm anyone? Go ahead; try something weird. Maybe next time, I’ll dabble more into the weirder, cursed side of my snack interests, and we can encourage each other.

This will definitely not be my last time talking about tea, much less Stash, though there are a lot of other fun tea sources I’d love to talk about, and maybe, you’ll enjoy reading about. 

[purplehairedwonder]

Inside a Broken Dream Chapter 5

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen Words: 3617 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Penguin, Jean Bart, Smoker, Tashigi Note: Story title comes from the Vertical Horizon song “Shackled.” Character and relationship tags reflect the current chapter. Obviously this is canon-divergent ;)

Warnings: There is an assault in this chapter. It’s not overtly sexual, but if that bothers you, avoid the italicized section.

Summary: Two years after Wano, peace on the Grand Line is fragile. Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates are doing their best to help maintain the peace, but when Doflamingo returns with Law in his sights, the balance of power entirely may shatter entirely.

Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Law was so startled by the revelation that he forgot his vulnerable position for a moment, eyes widening. Dying? He could have laughed, except—

“I’m going to fix it?” he echoed in disbelief, brain catching up with the other man’s words. “Why the hell would I do that?”

Doflamingo set his pistol down on the table—Law’s shoulders loosened at that—and reached down to grab Law by the collar and pull him upright in the chair he was bound to.

“For one thing,” he said directly into Law’s face as Law very carefully did not flinch. “It’s your fault.”

“Oh?” Law raised an eyebrow. “As happy as that would make me, when did I—”

“Dressrosa.”

Law blinked, momentarily confused, then recognition struck like lightning. “The Gamma Knife.” That was supposed to be a killing blow—and it would have been against anyone who couldn’t stitch their organs back together with strings. But Doflamingo had said that was merely first aid, not healing. It had been a patch job for the immediate damage to his organs but didn’t account for the—

“You have radiation poisoning,” Law realized. He hadn’t spent much time thinking about the long-term effects of the attack after developing it because he hadn’t considered that someone might survive for more than a few agonizing minutes. But it made sense. Interesting.

Doflamingo rose to his full height, forcing Law to look up at him. “The doctors at Impel Down discovered it not long after I arrived. My unique abilities have kept me alive longer than I had any reason to live.”

“But you’re almost out of time,” Law deduced. Radiation at the level Doflamingo had been exposed to from that attack should have killed him within days, if not hours. That he had lived for two years after the attack was downright miraculous. But even his impressive biology and the creative use of his Fruit couldn’t keep him alive indefinitely.

Doflamingo’s expression tightened, as if it pained him to concede, “Only the Ope Ope no Mi can cure me now.”

For a moment, Law was speechless as he processed what he’d just heard. Suddenly it made sense why Akainu had chosen now to sic Doflamingo on him; he didn’t have any more time to wait if he was going to play that card. But Doflamingo was, as ever, the Joker—a wild card.

And then Law laughed, hard enough that tears formed in his eyes. He knew the laughter was jagged with sharp, unhinged edges to it, but he couldn’t stop himself. It had taken an additional two years—fifteen years since that night—but Law had pulled the trigger after all.

Cora-san…

After several long moments, Law collected himself with no little effort, aware that Doflamingo’s veins were bulging in fury. But Law couldn’t bring himself to care. Doflamingo couldn’t maim the only surgeon in the world who could save him. And Law would need to use his abilities if he were to operate on the former Warlord, so the threat of another Seastone bullet was just that—a threat. Even the one in his shoulder would have had to come out eventually.

“Why,” Law asked, amusement still evident in his voice, “would I help you when I was the one to deal the blow in the first place?” Especially now that Doflamingo knew the truth about that night and Law’s revenge mission.

“For the sake of your crew.”

Law stilled, all traces of humor dissolving. “What?”

“I have two members of your crew in the brig,” Doflamingo reminded him. “How long do you think Penguin and Jean Bart would hold up under torture, Law?” He tapped his chin, feigning thoughtfulness. “I’d bet on Jean Bart outlasting the bird, being a former captain and slave. But maybe he’ll surprise me.”

Fury, now uninhibited by Seastone, uncurled in Law’s chest. “No,” he snarled.

“No?” Now Doflamingo’s tone had turned amused.                              

“They have nothing to do with this.”

“They have everything to do with this,” Doflamingo sneered. “The moment you made them yours, they became mine as well. Because you’ve been mine since you were ten years old, Law. You know what kind of Family we are.”

“You son of a bitch,” Law growled. “You leave them alone.” This is exactly what he’d been afraid of when he’d sent his crew to Zou while he went to Punk Hazard on his own.

“Why would I do that? I know better than to think I could torture you into compliance. I trained you too well for that.” Doflamingo licked his lips in anticipation. “But your crew? I know you never did for them what I did for you.”

Doflamingo was right; he’d never treated his crew the way Doflamingo had treated his Family—valued for their usefulness to the captain. It had taken Cora-san’s death for Law to realize it, but Doflamingo was everything Law didn’t want to be in a leader. The only Donquixote legacy Law wanted to pass on was that of Cora-san.

The thought of Penguin and Jean Bart subjected to the cruelty he knew Doflamingo capable of, Law forced to watch helplessly as they suffered because of him, made Law sick. It was his job as captain to protect his crew.

But he also knew the danger of healing Doflamingo, knew what the man could and would do once he was no longer suffering from the effects of radiation poisoning. Doflamingo couldn’t have much time left if he’d been willing to risk stealing a Marine ship and kidnapping Law in broad daylight. If they could just outlast him…

“And besides the two in the brig,” Doflamingo added, “the rest are sailing right into my arms as we speak.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. Though his first instinct was panic, he forced his mind back to logic. Penguin and Jean Bart might be captive, but the rest of his crew was free. They would fight. And if the Straw Hats were also on the way, Doflamingo would be outmatched, even with a ship full of Marines under his control.

“I put my trust in my crew,” Law said finally. “And my allies.”

“Even against a Buster Call?” The retort was immediate, as if Law’s response had been expected. (It probably had been; Law had constantly felt steps behind Doflamingo ever since he’d known the man.)

Law went cold, memories of Flevance surfacing in his mind’s eye unbidden. The gunfire tearing through bodies like paper, the blood flowing like rivers, the heat of the fire that consumed the hospital and Lami, the moans of the dying children he should have been among, the weight of the corpses pressing in on him as he fled…

That hadn’t been a Buster Call, but it had been close enough.

He thought of Nico Robin and the haunted looks that she masked expertly from her crew but never could disguise from Law when he knew them from his own mirror.

He shook himself, trying to force the images from his mind. “What?”

Doflamingo smirked widely. “What do you think Akainu would do if I sent word that I’d lured both the Heart and Straw Hat crews to one place?” He slammed a hand down flat on the table, and Law started, despite himself. The memories had cracked his composure, and he knew Doflamingo had seen it. “It may not be his original plan, but do you think that man wouldn’t take the chance to wipe out the both of you at once?”

“You’d still be dying in that case,” Law countered, swallowing against the bile in his throat.

Doflamingo tilted his head. “Perhaps. But at least I’d be taking you and Straw Hat and your nakama with me.”

The words struck a familiar chord. Law had felt much the same when he’d made his plans for attacking Dressrosa; if he’d died, so be it—as long as Doflamingo’s death was assured in the process. And now their roles were reversed. The power of a man with nothing to lose could be a fearsome thing indeed.

“But it doesn’t have to come to that,” Doflamingo added.

“If I do the operation,” Law supplied flatly.

“It would make things simpler, would it not?”

Law’s eyes narrowed. “My crew will be unharmed.”

“As long as you play your part, they won’t be harmed,” Doflamingo confirmed with a creeping smile that made Law’s skin crawl.

“And the Straw Hats? They are my allies.”

“Don’t push it.”

Law’s hands were clenched so tightly in fists that when he forced himself to loosen them, he found bloody crescent-shaped wounds in his palms. He absently rubbed his hands on his jeans, leaving bloody streaks on his thighs. He could try to push the negotiation further, but knowing Luffy, he wouldn’t care about or stick to a deal Law had struck anyway.

“Fine,” Law decided finally, the words strained. “I will treat the radiation poisoning only.”

He would not be cornered into the other operation. Law didn’t mind dying to protect his nakama, but he wouldn’t unleash an eternally-young and powerful Doflamingo on them—or the world. And he knew his crew and allies wouldn’t accept him making that trade either. It was the one line he wasn’t willing to cross to protect them—at the end of the day, it wouldn’t protect them or anyone else he cared for anyway. He’d even risk the Buster Call for that one.

Doflamingo nodded. “Agreed.” He eyed Law. “But to make sure you don’t get any more smart ideas before we reach Herrenlos, you won’t be leaving my sight.”

Herrenlos. Of course, Law thought as he remembered. It was the name of an island the Donquixote Family kept as a secure outpost in the New World in case they ever needed to flee their current locale. He’d learned all the names and locations of the Family outposts across the four Blues and Grand Line as a child. Law hadn’t thought about any of them in years since Doflamingo had been openly ruling Dressrosa while Law plotted his revenge. He’d asked Tashigi to find out where they were going, and she’d done so.

“Fantastic,” Law muttered.

-----

The longer Law was away, the more Penguin’s worry gnawed at his insides. The three prisoners had been brought their usual scraps for dinner, and when Marines had come to escort them to the bathroom, he’d tried to find out Law’s status but had only gotten an elbow to the gut for his trouble. Once night had fallen and his captain—his friend—still hadn’t returned, Penguin turned restless and started pacing his cell. Though he’d washed his hands in the bathroom, he could still feel Law’s blood on them from removing the bullet, and, though it wasn’t the first time, he’d never get used to that feeling.

“Would you stop before you wear a hole in the floor?” Smoker snapped. “Not all of us can swim.”

Penguin paused and glared at the Vice Admiral. “Easy to say when it’s not your captain being held captive by a madman.”

“No, it’s my partner and my men,” Smoker retorted coldly.

Penguin stiffened. Smoker had been commanding this mission when Doflamingo had taken it over, leaving his men under the string man’s control. And the swordswoman who’d taken Law away was Smoker’s partner; he’d forgotten.

“Right,” he muttered, sliding down against the wall again and burying his face in his collar. He could only be so sympathetic when the man had been leading a mission to capture or kill his captain in the first place.

He knew Law was more than capable of taking care of himself—he was a freaking Emperor—but he also knew there was a long, nasty history between the two former Warlords. And that history had been haunting Law since before Penguin had met him when Law was 13.

Having known Law for as long as he had, Penguin had seen and heard Law’s nightmares, had more than once held him as he came awake with whimpers or shrieks, his body wracked with tremors. He’d seen the haunted look in Law’s eyes, emphasized by the darkening circles under his eyes, and Law’s growing insomnia as he feared sleep, succumbing only when his body gave out from exhaustion. Once the original four Hearts had taken to the sea in the Polar Tang, Penguin had watched as Law stared at the skies and constantly looked over his shoulder, always wary of a flash of pink.

Penguin had also kept a careful eye on his friend once he’d returned from Dressrosa. After Doflamingo’s fall, some of the weight had lifted from Law’s shoulders and some of the shadows had faded from his eyes, but Law had never told even him, Shachi, and Bepo everything that had happened on Dressrosa. More than once, he’d caught Law absently fingering the ugly scar on his arm and flinching at the sight of guns and knew whatever had happened wouldn’t leave him so easily.

Law kept his pain to himself, tried to avoid burdening his nakama no matter how much they wanted to help him carry it—and so to know that Law, no matter how strong he was now, was once more in that man’s hands made Penguin sick.

Sometime during the night—it was impossible to keep track of time in the brig except for the visits of the guards and the sounds of activity above them on deck—the brig door opened. Penguin sat up, hoping to see Law, but it was the swordswoman.

“Tashigi,” Smoker said in surprise.

She put a finger to her lips. “I don’t have much time. I’m supposed to be going to the kitchens, but I took a detour.”

“Where’s Law?” Penguin demanded.

“With Doflamingo.” Penguin’s stomach sank. “As far as I know, he’s unharmed,” Tashigi added quickly, glancing between Penguin and Jean Bart. “But Doflamingo wants to keep an eye on him until we arrive.”

“Arrive?” Jean Bart asked.

“Where are we going?” Smoker prodded.

“An island called Herrenlos.”

Penguin frowned. “What’s that?”

Tashigi shrugged. “I don’t know. But it seemed to mean something to Trafalgar.” She looked at Smoker. “We should arrive sometime tomorrow.”

Smoker nodded thoughtfully. Tashigi, meanwhile, looked between Penguin and Jean Bart.

“Your crew is not far behind us.” She sighed. “Same with the Straw Hats.”

Smoker groaned, but Penguin and Jean Bart perked up. Penguin knew his nakama would come for them, but that they had apparently called the Straw Hats for backup as well was excellent news.

“Do you know what Doflamingo is up to?” Jean Bart asked.

Tashigi shook her head. “He sends me outside the room any time he talks about anything important.”

“Talks with who?” Smoker asked, leaning forward. “Law?”

“Him. And he’s been making calls on the Den Den Mushi.”

Smoker frowned. “Who would he be calling after two years in Impel Down?”

“I don’t know. Old contacts?” Tashigi twitched. “I have to go. Be careful,” she said, turning from the cells and leaving the brig.

“You be careful,” Smoker called after her, sighing as the door clanged shut behind her.

Penguin exchanged looks with Jean Bart. It was good that Law was okay, but that still didn’t answer what Doflamingo wanted him for. He supposed they would find out tomorrow.

He really hoped his nakama would hurry.

-----

Though Law had never been to Herrenlos, he’d seen the maps and base schematics—though that had been nearly two decades earlier. Still, the name had stuck with him; with its name meaning abandoned, the island had sounded haunted to Law when he was a boy. As the Marine vessel pulled into the docks on the island the next afternoon, Law took in the island through the window of the captain’s quarters and thought his younger self had been on the right track.

A rocky outcropping loomed over the beach, which was rocky rather than sandy and was scattered with desert flora. Atop the outcrop was the base—a warehouse with living quarters, from what Law could remember. The base was well-suited to defense from an outside attack… like would be coming from the Heart and Straw Hat crews.

As Law watched, the Marines, some under the control of strings and some moving of their own accord, started unloading cargo from the ship. Whatever items would be useful for stocking up the base, Law assumed.

Law flinched when one large hand came from behind to rest on his right shoulder, the other stroking down the left side of his face, tracing his line of his cheek—a facsimile of tenderness and affection.

“Stop that,” Law snapped then hissed in pain when a finger found its way into the bullet wound on his shoulder. His knees nearly buckled as the finger pressed into the wound, sending a jolt of pain down to his toes and drawing fresh blood, but Doflamingo’s unrelenting grip on his shoulder kept him upright.

“It’s time to go,” Doflamingo murmured into Law’s ear, his breath wet and warm against Law’s skin.

“Fine,” Law said through clenched teeth, gathering himself and turning on his heel. His shackles clanked with his sudden movement. He didn’t look at Doflamingo.

Doflamingo chuckled but let go of his shoulder and followed him. Tashigi was standing outside the door when Law opened it. She glanced back at him in surprise, eyes briefly falling to his left shoulder and blanching, but she was forced to walk half a step behind Law as a guard. Law ignored her reaction and strode forward. Doflamingo followed his two captives.

Neither Law nor Doflamingo slept the night before. For several hours after their tense arrangement had been reached, Law remained tied to the chair, stewing silently, while Doflamingo sat at the desk and looked over papers and maps and scribbled notes. Law very carefully did not think about how much this felt like sitting shackled to the Heart seat in Dressrosa, powerless.

Some time after night had fallen, Law started when he felt the strings confining him to the chair fall away. He looked over at Doflamingo, who had shifted in the desk chair to face Law, and raised an eyebrow. Rather than respond, the other man pointed a finger, and Law was pulled to his feet as a single string wrapped around his shackles and tugged him forward.

Law grimaced but didn’t fight the movement. He didn’t think it was worth picking the battle—not yet. He came to a stop directly in front of Doflamingo, Law’s thighs nearly touching the larger man’s knees. For a long moment, Doflamingo scrutinized Law from behind his glasses. Then he reached one hand, almost tentatively, up to Law’s face. Law inhaled sharply as Doflamingo’s hand cupped his cheek and tried to push back against the touch, but the string was still wrapped around his shackles and kept his hands in front of him.

“W-what—”

The hand slid from Law’s cheek to the back of his neck and fingers lightly brushed through the hair on his nape. Goosebumps erupted under the touch, Law intimately aware that Doflamingo’s large hand could enclose around his throat at any moment. Logically, he knew it wouldn’t because Doflamingo needed him alive, but his body wasn’t reacting to logic.

The fingers suddenly tightened in Law’s hair, and Law’s breath hitched as Doflamingo pulled back, exposing Law’s neck. Law swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Doflamingo slowly rose to his feet. He leaned over, as if to sniff Law’s exposed neck. Law’s heart hammered in his chest as his position became even more vulnerable.

Maybe he should have picked the battle after all.

“I always knew you’d grow up into something incredible, Law,” Doflamingo murmured.

“Funny,” Law replied, voice unsteady as he focused his gaze on the ceiling. “I didn’t expect to grow up at all.”

There was a huff of laughter against his neck, and Law suppressed a shudder. “I have always been good at cultivating potential.”

Law felt his irritation spike at that. “Yes, such great potential behind bars in Impel Down,” he retorted with a measure of satisfaction.

Doflamingo growled, predictable in his anger at any slight against the Family. The hand in Law’s hair tightened further then Law cried out as he felt a sharp sting in the meat of his left shoulder. His eyes flew wide, and he jerked back as far as he could with the string still attached to manacles. Breathing heavily, he looked down to see a bloody bite mark.

Furious, he glared at the other man. “What the fuck?”

“A reminder of just who you belong to,” Doflamingo simply replied, teeth bloodied as he smirked.

Law’s stomach turned. Doflamingo, seeming satisfied to have made his point, dropped the string from Law’s bindings. Law retreated to the chair at the table, moving only to clean up the wound when Doflamingo had thrown a towel in his direction.

When Law emerged on the deck, he was relieved to see Penguin and Jean Bart, as well as Smoker, standing by the gangplank, guarded by armed Marines.

“Captain!” Penguin called, relieved, as Law approached. His eyes narrowed as he saw the fresh wound on Law’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Jean Bart asked, having noticed it as well.

Law nodded, refusing to give Doflamingo the satisfaction of acknowledging it. “Fine. You two?”

“We’re good,” Penguin said, and Jean Bart nodded in confirmation.

“As touching as this little reunion is,” Doflamingo drawled, “it’s time to go.”

The Marine guards jerked into motion and grabbed Penguin, Jean Bart, and Smoker, pushing them toward the gangplank. Law and Tashigi followed, with Doflamingo bringing up the rear.

[nekoabiwrites]

Torn Apart

This is a real heavy story, with a lot of pain for almost all the characters - but I promise it ends on a happy note!

This came about from thinking about Virgil getting his jacket ripped like that scene in Cinderella where her dress get torn by the stepsisters.

AU: None Pairings: None Words: 5178 Warnings: Pain, Stabbing, Clawing, Scratch Marks, Head Injuries, Limbs being cut off, Everyone is in pain, Being tied up, Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus (?), Being gagged, Strangulation, Choking, Destruction of clothing. Wrath is an angry boy and he hurts them all, but it ends happy.  Anything else, please let me know. I’ve definitely likely missed something. I’m sorry.

Summary: Virgil turns up back in the dark side’s part of the mindscape. He confronts Wrath and Remus, throwing them back a tied up Deceit. Virgil pushes Wrath just a little too far and he pays the price for it.

---

Virgil’s hands were shaking as they were bundled up into fists. Remus and Wrath loomed over him, attempting to bully him into submission once more. Remus had been circling him like a prowling lion, while Wrath stood perfectly still before him.

“Well?” The orange suit-clad side tilted his head teasingly, waiting for Virgil to respond.

“I already said no.” Virgil was proud of how his voice was refusing to shake, even in the presence of Thomas’ most feared side. He was going to stand his ground, Virgil was not going to be pushed around anymore.

“So, you think you’re better than us, hm? Too good to play with us anymore?” Wrath reached forward and grabbed a hold of Virgil’s chin, grasping it tightly. Virgil was still able to rip himself away from the touch, though it did leave a small scratch on his cheek from the claw-like nails. The anxious side went to take a step back, but he ended up being stopped immediately by Remus’ body.

The green side’s hands slowly slid up to Virgil’s shoulders, making him stand straighter and almost shudder at the uncomfortable touch, “You were always my favourite toy, Virgil. So reactive.” Virgil jumped harshly as Remus’ voice dropped down several octaves and the puff of his breath hit the back of his ear on the opposite side of where he was hearing the voice.

Virgil stumbled out of the duke’s grasp as quickly as he could, his eyes wide in horror. He didn’t want to think about any of that right now. Wrath stepped after him, methodical and slow, “Come now, Virgil. You don’t want to make us… angry, do you?” He was slowly backing the anxious side into an inescapable corner, the danger present in his eyes.

He had no idea what to do now. Virgil couldn’t exactly run; it was hard enough getting down to their part of the mindscape, let alone getting back out again. He’d be chased down and found well before he truly managed to get out of there and back to the relative safety of the others above. There was no one he could ask for help. I mean, Deceit was the one who’d brought him down here at his request, and that snake was already tie-

A fist slamming against the wall, mere inches from his face, had Virgil’s thoughts screeching to an abrupt halt.

Wrath was closer now, close enough for his heavy breaths to pass over Virgil’s blood-drained face. His eyes were wide, his teeth slightly bared. The other hand reached forward and grabbed the front of Virgil’s shirt, lifting the smaller side up to the same eye level.

Wrath’s eyes traced his body, his expression only getting darker as he did so. “Always hated this thing.”

“What thing?” Remus’ grating voice piped up from behind, his head just visible past Wrath’s shoulder.

Turning around, the suited side indicated to Virgil’s patched jacket. “This thing. It’s too… them.” He snarled harshly on the final word, pulling hard at the corner of the jacket.

A shot of fear slid through Virgil’s body at the tugging. He immediately snapped his head down and went to reach for Wrath’s wrist to stop him from ripping the jacket. As soon as he’d moved, Virgil knew the mistake he’d made. He quickly found himself thrown to the floor.

“Did you just touch me?”

Virgil began to stutter out some apologies but was silenced quickly by the rage filled gaze that pierced his own. A sudden snap of Wrath’s fingers had him flinching.

“Remus.”

“Yessir!” Remus shot up as straight as he could, literally stretching his body in the process. It normally would have made Virgil wrinkle his nose in disgust, but he seemed to be in such a state of shock that Remus’ actions had no effect on him.

“Scissors.” Wrath held out an open hand. Within seconds, his request was filled. Wrath paid no attention to what kind of scissors were given to him, he simply crouched down to Virgil’s level. He didn’t even hesitate. The fabric was between the blade as soon as it could have been, with Virgil crying out as the scissors shut down on the hoodie.

It didn’t cut. Everything stilled for a moment.

Wrath looked down to the scissors in his hand and noticed that they were children’s craft scissors, ones that cut a pattern into whatever it was supposed to cut. His head turned as slow as possible, to stare at Remus with fire in his eyes.

Remus simply smiled his usual, unhinged smile back. “Whoops?” He shrugged exaggeratedly. The other side of creativity ducked quickly as the scissors he’d conjured flew directly towards him, the smile never been knocked off of his face.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Wrath grabbed the hoodie in an iron grip and pulled hard.

The sound of the fabric ripping was drowned out by Virgil’s cry. But that was only the beginning. Wrath continued to grab and tear and rip and claw at the patchwork hoodie. The sleeves got pulled from their place and torn in half, every additional piece of fabric was ripped from their place and then shredded in front of Virgil’s eyes, all the white stitching was ruined beyond repair. And Wrath just continued, ignoring Virgil’s pleas and cries for him to stop.

Piece by piece, the hoodie was dismantled and destroyed. The small pieces of fabric fell like confetti around the pair. Virgil was twisted onto his front by the angered side, so that the other could get at the pieces that were being hidden from him. In this position, the anxious side attempted to crawl away to avoid anymore damage being done to his precious jacket, but Wrath grabbed the back of his undershirt and dragged him back.

Wrath then sat on his legs, holding him place with all of his weight as he tore further and further through the scraps that were left hanging. His fury had reached a point where any semblance of rational thought was just a pipe dream, and he was going to go until he was done. As the hoodie ran out of fabric, his attention turned to the shirt beneath, which was far thinner than what had originally been attacked. The sharp nails were now scratching lines down Virgil’s back whilst ripping his already distressed purple shirt.

Virgil clawed at the ground, trying desperately to get away. He continually cried out for Wrath to stop, to let him go, but he daren’t ask for help from Remus. The duke just stood idly by and watched, not moving a muscle and Virgil knew that he wouldn’t even try to help him if he asked so why would he even try?

Finally, Wrath tired himself out and pushed himself back up to his full height. He stared down at the side on the ground, huffing out heavy breaths. “There. Gone.” Behind him, Remus was clapping joyously and laughing loudly, as he tended to do.

A flicker of something had both Wrath and Remus pausing. This was the first time that Remus’ smile began to slide off of his face, morphing into an expression of horror.

Beneath Wrath’s feet, laying with scratches down his back, with a ripped open shirt, was a half-scaled man.

Wrath began to physically shake with rage. “What is this.”

Deceit coughed a little, pushing himself up so he could turn to look at the enraged side above him. He said nothing.

Then Wrath turned around.

What he’d thought had been Deceit had been thrown to the floor earlier, as he was going to be no help, seeing as it looked like he’d been caught by Virgil well before all of this began. But now, tied up in thick ropes with a cloth gag wrapped tightly over his mouth, with wide eyes and tears streaking down his cheeks, was Virgil. He’d been screaming the entire time, but Wrath had been ignoring it, thinking it was just Deceit getting too close to those above again.

That was it.

Wrath lost it completely.

Wrath screamed loudly. It quickly morphed into a loud roar that had both Remus and Deceit covering their ears and Virgil whimpering as he couldn’t reach out to save his hearing. He turned and approached Deceit once more. Wrath went to kick Deceit hard in the stomach, but found his leg being cut out from under him, getting him to fall over beside the snake-scaled man.

Another roar punched from his gut at he hit the floor. The suited man looked up to find Remus holding a bloody axe, having clearly have swung it in order to cut off his leg.

“Remus.” Wrath snarled, grabbing his leg and reattaching it.

The dark side of creativity grinned wide in a false sense of confidence. He spun the axe around and rested the head of it on the ground, leaning against it. “Yeeeeeees?”

As quickly as it took for him to take up the position, Remus found himself flying across the room before his back smacked hard against the wall, forcing a pained noise from the green side. Wrath stood still until the sound of the axe falling to the ground reverberated around the room.

“Traitor.” Wrath went to stalk over and get a hold of Remus, but something wrapped around his leg. He snapped his head down to see Deceit holding onto him, a look of pure defiance across his features.

Wrath ripped his leg from Deceit’s grasp, before swinging it back down to crash against the scaled side’s skull. The man hissed and flinched in pain, pulling away from Wrath and instinctively curling in on him. The orange side roughly grabbed Deceit’s shoulder and pulled him up, almost pulling his arm from its socket. “Both of you disgust me.” He spat into Deceit’s face, holding him up so close their noses touched. The deceitful side was not given a second to respond as Wrath reared back and headbutted him hard.

Deceit fell to the floor, his vision blurred and head swimming. Despite all of this, he could see that Wrath had taken several steps back from him and seemed to be holding his head, while Remus’ boots were standing before him. Deceit attempted to blink to clear a bit of his vision, eyes quickly scanning the others for any semblance of what had just happened. A small glint of light reflected off of Remus’ fist, allowing Deceit to notice the brass knuckles that were held tight.

“What are you doing?!” Wrath screamed at him, rubbing his cheek.

Remus made the weapon disappear and pretended to check his nails, “I’ve always wanted to see what it looked like after you took it to the face.”

A screech pierced each of the surrounding sides’ ears, causing Remus to cringe hard and cover his ears. In his distracted state, the duke wasn’t able to defend himself from the shoulder-check that Wrath hit him with, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Wrath dropped down to pin Remus down to the floor.

Instead of showing fear, Remus simply smiled cheekily, “Ooh, careful; you’re getting me all excited.” His leg swung out to wrap around Wrath’s waist and his arms reached up to circle his neck, “If you wanted me like this, you only had to as-” His flirtatious addition was cut off as a hard punch hit his cheek, turning his head to the side.

The other side of creativity had no time to recover as three more punches were delivered in quick succession, his head twisting from side to side with each hit. After the fourth, Remus definitely was feeling a little weak and dizzy. He was able to feel Wrath grabbing his chin harshly, forcing him up in order to inspect the damage done. All the other side could do was groan for the moment which seemed to please the angered side as his head was dropped back against the hard ground, causing another spark of pain to shoot through him.

Seemingly done with him, Remus felt Wrath’s weight leave his body as he stood. Remus watched blearily as the man righted his orange suit before taking purposeful steps back towards Deceit. In a moment of desperation, Remus gathered all the strength he could in order to push himself up and spit out a few loose teeth and as much blood as he could over the back of Wrath’s legs.

The reaction was immediate, as the other side whirled around and growled at him once more.

Without missing a beat, the duke grinned and weakly said, “Blood is the second-best thing you could have put into my mouth.”

Wrath was done with Remus’ awful habit of talking so much. He threw himself towards Remus, hands wrapping tightly around the other’s neck. Wrath seemed to feel nothing as he stared down at the slowly suffocated side. He completely ignored the sounds of choking and the scratching of Remus’ nails. He managed to block out the muffled screams of protest coming from the still bound and gagged Virgil. He didn’t even flinch when Deceit grabbed a hold of his arms and attempted to pry him off of Remus’ neck.

Nothing seemed to be doing anything. Remus was slowly quietening, his eyes beginning to roll back.

Then Wrath’s arms fell off of his body, causing both Wrath and Deceit to fall to the side. At the same time, the hands’ grip loosened until they fell away, allowing Remus to gasp for air.

Everything in the room was silent besides Remus’ attempts at breathing. Virgil’s desperate sobs had stopped so suddenly and all of the others had been forced into shocked silence as they stared up at the one who’d just done such a thing. Remus, even in his still fuzzy vision, was able to notice the pure white of the outfit before him and it had him slowly looking up see the unmistakable gleam of an unmistakable sword.

The sword was swung back down to be held down beside the man standing above all of them, the tip almost reaching the ground just before Remus’ knees. A loud booming voice crossed the silence.

“Get your hands off of my brother!”

Wrath’s face turned dark and he bared his teeth fully. Unfortunately for Roman, Wrath had fallen near the axe which gave the angered side an easy weapon. It was in his hand in the blink of an eye and then he quickly clashed with Roman’s sword, growling like a feral animal.

The fight almost became a dance. Wrath swung the axe time after time with all his strength behind it and Roman was managing to move around it, dragging the suited side around the room. Every now and then there would be a clash against metal as Roman parried an attack. Though, small clips kept catching at his clothing, causing small rips to appear.

Through all of this, both of the sides who’d dealt with Wrath’s attacks watched almost helplessly. Remus was attempting to steady himself but was still dealing with having almost been choked. In his normal state, he would have had a multitude of things to comment on, but he could just barely squeeze out a word in his current condition. Deceit, meanwhile, was back up onto his feet. He was swaying, holding his head, but attempting to take determined steps towards the two duelling sides. Then an arm grabbed a hold of his, steadying him.

“Don’t. You’re in no position to try and help anymore. You’ve already done so much.” The soft voice caused Deceit to almost break down crying then and there. Instead, his legs gave out and he went falling back down to the floor, but the man beside him managed to catch and lower him gently. All the tension and strength left the snake’s body as Patton’s arms surrounded him in a hug. He held back his tears still though, not wanting to show too much weakness around so many sides, especially Wrath in his current form. Across the room, Deceit was able to make out Logan, who’d done a quick check on Remus, crossing over and beginning to untie the ropes that bound Virgil.

A crack and the following clanging noises rang out, causing all of the sides to turn back towards the fight.

Roman’s sword lay in two pieces either side of him as he sat on the floor, back up against the wall. His eyes, while still determined, clearly held far more fear than before. The prince was helpless, defenceless. Especially once Wrath stood upon both of his legs with his full weight, causing Roman to cry out in pain.

The axe was held high above Wrath’s head, ready to swing down and cut Roman’s torso in half. “Any last words?” Roman opened his mouth, but Wrath cut him off, “Too late.” After a moment’s preparation, the weapon was being swung down. Roman could only wince, preparing himself for the impact. Virgil, finally able to speak, cried out and went to sprint towards him, but Logan held him back for safety, his own face looking grim. Patton turned away and scrunched his eyes shut tight, unable to bear watching such a scene while Deceit just couldn’t move, pure despair and sadness radiating from him. Remus reached forward, similarly to Virgil, shouting angrily.

CLANG!

The room fell silent. No one moved. Wrath’s eyes opened wide in shock. Roman quickly opened his, only to be greeted by the sharp edge of the axe only millimetres from his face. Below the head of the weapon, stopping it from coming down any further towards Roman’s body and causing any more damage, was a shaking mace.

Roman’s eyes flicked to the side, catching sight of Remus’ shit-eating grin as he looked up at Wrath, who was still lost for words. “Choking never stopped me before. I thought you’d know that by now.” Remus wheezed, playfully winking alongside his comment.

Wrath snapped. His entire being turned a bright shade of orange, with his centre turning red. He put all of his weight down onto the axe, trying to get through Remus’ already weakened state to get to the prince beneath. “F o o L s.” He spoke, his voice deep enough to feel like it was simply coming from within their heads, “Y o U s I d e  W i t H  T h e M?! s O  b e  I t!  Y o u  C A n  A l L P e R I S h!”

The axe’s blade inched closer and closer, with Remus doing everything he could to stop the sharp edge reaching his brother’s chest. It was just barely resting on top of the now slightly torn red sash, so close from reaching the false flesh. He could feel his hands slipping and his arms losing all strength, but he kept going. Then the weight was gone, and Remus found himself rolling over, the mace finally falling from his fingers and rolling away from him.

“W H y  D o  y o u F i G H t  t O  P r o T E C t  T h E m?!” Wrath yelled, now fighting off the double team made up of Deceit and Patton, who’d both grabbed a hold of one of his arms. The orange side writhed around, trying to throw the two off of himself, but he was having difficulties mostly with Patton’s as he was still at full strength.

“Roman! Move!” Patton called out, staring at the prince while he attempting to keep his grip on Wrath’s arm.

The creative side quickly jumped up and grabbed his brother’s arm, dragging him away from the spot where they’d been trapped. He took him to a more or less safe space of the room and crouched down beside him, glancing back towards the fight every couple of seconds as he checked the wounds, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Not much.” Remus responded, his voice still hoarse.

“Moron.” Roman chided, “Don’t talk, idiot. It’ll only make things worse.”

The sound of a body hitting the floor again had both sides of creativity turning their full attention back to where Wrath was standing. Deceit was back down on the floor once more, this time clearly having no intention of getting back up as he’d clearly blacked out. Wrath had reached over and grabbed Patton by the scruff of his neck, pulling the collar of his shirt up far too high and effectively choking yet another side. “Y o U C A n  B e  t h E f I R S t  t o  G O.  Y o u  a R e  T h E T H i e F  T H a t  s t O l E T H e M  f r o M  M e  A n Y W a Y.  i T i s  O n L Y  F i t T T i N G  T H a t t h E y  G E t  T o  W a T C h  y O u  D i S A P p e A R.“

Patton scrabbled at the collar of his shirt, trying to pry it away from his throat. Tears began to roll down his cheeks, especially after Wrath easily snatched away the cat hoodie from around his shoulders, tossing it to the ground and standing on it. He whimpered and whined, feeling utterly helpless. The moral side couldn’t even call out for someone to help.

“GET OFF OF HIM!” The familiar double-layered voice screamed before Patton found himself gasping for air on his knees, the collar of his shirt finally falling back to where it should be.

Behind him, Virgil had tackled Wrath to the ground, attempting to hold him there while he growled.

Wrath laughed in his deep, demonic voice, “H e r E  h E I s. C o m I N g  T o  S A V e  H I s  n e W  l I g h t  F r I E n D.” He mocked, grabbing a hold of the cape of Deceit’s outfit that Virgil still wore and tugging on it to get Virgil to bend backwards above him. “A L w a Y s  W a N T E d  t O  b e  T h E H e r O, D I d n’ t Y o U?” Wrath dug his fingers deep into Virgil’s purple hair, almost ripping it out and causing the anxious trait to muffle a pained scream. “N e V E r  R e a l L y  L I K e d B e I n g  D O w N  h e r E w I T h  u S. T o O  B A d. t O O L a T e  f o R  s T U p I d  d R e a M S.”

“Get off of him.”

The tip of Roman’s reformed sword rested against Wrath’s throat. His hands were kicked off of Virgil as if there were no strength to the grasp he held at all, allowing the other to be dragged away by Patton to safety.

“L o G I c.” Wrath snarled.

“Wrath.” Logan responded coolly.

A few seconds of staring each other down passed before Logan turned and took a few steps back, tossing a second, identical sword across the ground towards the still-completely-orange side. “You wish to get to all of them. Then you must go through me first.” Logan stood, almost completely unguarded, waiting for Wrath to make the first move.

And do that, Wrath did. The suited side roared, snatching up the sword that was thrown to him as he got to his feet. He went to ram the sword directly through Logan’s core, but it was parried with little effort by the logical side. Wrath continued to swing, stab and strike with all of his might, screaming and yelling as he did so, while Logan barely moved in order to throw each attack away. After one, full strength swing from the side, Wrath was bent forward and panting.

“W h Y  C a N’ T  I  H I t  y O u?!” He huffed, teeth bared like a wild animal at an annoyingly stubborn prey.

“Perhaps because you don’t scare me.” Logan said, emotionless.

“W h A T? I m P O S s I b L E!” Wrath screamed, throwing out yet more attacks at Logan.

“I do not fear you because,” The logical side paused in order to avoid a particularly nasty swing at his lower leg, “you are just as we all are – simple, humanoid representations of-”

Logan stopped dead as the other’s sword drove straight through his chest, puncturing directly through him. He stumbled back, dropping his own sword in the process. Logan ended up slowly dragging himself down the wall that he ended up against, causing the tip of the sword that was sticking out through his back to scrape against the wall, creating a horrendous noise.

Wrath used his foot to slide the sword well out of Logan’s reach, making sure it went behind him. He crouched down and held Logan’s chin, forcing the logical side to make direct eye contact, “L o o K S  L I k E L o G I c  i s n’ T  A S  s T r o N g  A s  Y O u  T h o u G H t.”

Logan muttered something under his breath but was quickly losing consciousness. His head lolled to the side and his eyes became unfocused, the glasses slipping from where they sat on the bridge of his nose.

The suited side stood to full height once more, looking down at the impaled side below him with a sneer. No words were spoken as Wrath snapped the glasses that lay on the ground with his foot, excluding the scream of “You Monster!” from Virgil.

Wrath’s head gently tilted to the side to look at the anxious one, who was being held back by Patton. He slowly and purposefully took small strides towards the small group, staring them down with the smallest unhinged smile.

Then Wrath was face down on the floor, with no warning. Patton squeaked, and Virgil gasped, as they watched the man almost ricochet off of the hard flooring beneath him. Wrath, immediately after getting his bearings, flipped himself over to see what had happened.

A mistake on his part.

After turning over, two feet came to press down on his chest and two more weapons were pointed directly into his face.

“Ooo~ I didn’t think stepping on someone would give me such a rush! I’ll have to try it more often.”

“Will you shut up?!”

The twins shared a quick glare before returning their attention back to Wrath, who was attempting to get out from under them.

Roman quickly called for Virgil and Patton, “Help us. Hold him down.” Both of the other sides scrambled to get a hold of the one on the ground, who hissed and spat and screeched and screamed as he attempted to escape.

“What are we doing with him?” Virgil asked, doing his best to ignore the screams.

“I hav-”

“We know you have ideas, and no one wants any of them.” Roman swiftly cut off Remus before he could even truly begin his ramblings. “I’m trying to come up with something.”

“Not to hurry you or anything, Roman, but- Ah!” Patton wobbled a little as his grip on Wrath’s arm loosened due to the flurry of movement.

“I’m thinking as fast as I can, alright?!”

“Don’t yell at him!”

“Tell him to not rush me!”

“He said he wasn’t trying to hurry you!”

“Enough.”

Logan’s voice cut through the argument between Roman and Virgil easily. The four sides holding down Wrath, who’d began to literally howl in anger, looked up to see the logical side holding the bloodied sword he’d been stabbed with. He seemed perfectly fine, if a little unstable on his feet.

“Logan! Don’t pus-” Patton’s concerned tone was muted when a pair of hands softly rested on his shoulders.

Deceit slowly crawled around the fatherly trait, using whatever strength he had left in him to assist, “Trust him. He has a plan.” In contrast to his usual smarmy tone, Deceit sounded exhausted, which only added to Patton’s concern.

“I do, indeed, have a plan. Now, listen…”

Within a week, everything seemed to have gone back to normal. At least, for the most part.

Remus and Deceit had moved out of their dark and dingy surroundings as they’d been slightly more accepted by the others, which had caused their rooms to appear alongside Virgil’s – much to the anxious side’s frustration and annoyance.

Patton had worked with Roman – and sometimes Remus – to patch up whatever they both could of their old outfits for the time being, while the two of them came up with brand new clothes for them all to wear. Each of their outfits had been at least somewhat destroyed at Wrath’s hands; Virgil’s jacket having received the most and being almost impossible to repair which led to him having to make the decision to wear his old jacket for the short amount of time he was without a hoodie.

The fatherly trait had also gone the extra mile and taken small scraps of fabric from each of their outfits and pictures he had lying about and put them into picture frames. It served as a reminder of where they’d come from, who they’d been protecting and all the good times from the past. Each one hung up in the same place on the wall in each of their rooms, in clear view at almost all times. It managed to soften some of the pained memories.

Logan sighed as he stretched out his arms above his head, eyes falling back down to the work he’d been doing before he got distracted by the frame above him. He quickly glanced at the clock that sat at the back of his desk and realised it was about time for him to head down for dinner, as Patton would be calling at any minute now. He stood from the desk chair and pushed it under, mind still stuck on the events from a week ago. The logical side’s hand gently rested on his chest. The scar was still there and would be forever, but it was never going to happen again.

“Do try to keep it down when I return.” Logan threw the request over his shoulder as he opened the door, turning a little to look over it and into the angry eyes that stared at him from across the room, “Otherwise I will have no choice but to send you back over to Remus’.”

With that, the door shut and a loud roar sounded from behind it as Wrath’s head floated in the jar, unable to move or do anything else.

----

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

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[shavenstudios]

BRAND NEW LIVE MUSICAL OPEN FOR AUDITIONS!

PROJECT TITLE: HEATHERS ; THE MUSICAL PROJECT TYPE: THEATRE / STAGE PREFORMANCE GENRE: DARK COMEDY / DRAMA

RELEASE: FALL 2019 REHEARSAL: AUGUST 5 — OCTOBER 12 RUN TIME: OCTOBER 27 — NOVEMBER 10

DIRECTORS: BEN HARDY & COLE SPROUSE PRODUCERS: TESSA THOMPSON / ONE SPOT OPEN

CAST:

MAIN:

HEATHER CHANDLER ; the head leader of the titular group, her signature colour is red, symbolizing her power and destruction. she is cold and ruthless. she has somewhat of a ’ god like ’ status at the school — making everyone either fearful that they’ll be the next target of her attention, or look at her in pure admiration. she takes an interest in veronica because of her valuable skill in replicating other people’s handwriting — something that will lead to her demise. — OPEN.

HEATHER DUKE ; second in command, her signature colour is green — symbolizing the jealousy that she holds towards chandler. quiet and reserved by nature, she is a forced extrovert when around chandler. she is vulnerable and seeks out acceptance from heather ( c ) — something that she never receives.  she joins in with the torment inflicted on martha, despite them once being best friends back at camp. after heather’s fall from grace, she takes over and adopts her personality. no longer holding any sort of empathy that she once possessed before, she begins to boss around mcnamara and sawyer — driving them both away from her in the process.— LILI REINHART.

HEATHER MCNAMARA ; the quietest of the heathers, her signature colour is yellow, symbolizing her reluctance, and nicer ( in comparison ) personality. she is easily influenced by those around her, and often does brash things to seek out acceptance from heather chandler. she is ditzy and innocent when compared to the others ( ex ; asking if they even have thanksgiving in africa ) she joins in with the unfair treatment to martha, but seems to only participate for the reasons listed above. after heather’s fall from grace, she is bullied relentlessly by duke after her and sawyer overhear her conversation on ’ hot probs. ’ she is helped by veronica, and the two remain close. — LUCY BOYNTON.

VERONICA SAWYER ; independent and intelligent, veronica’s signature colour is blue, symbolizing her defiance of heather chandler’s red. she is practical minded and doesn’t seem to understand the method of the heather’s madness. she is reluctant to joining in with anything having to do with martha, as she has nothing against / for her. she views heather mcnamara as an actual friend, and joins her on her date with curt so that she wouldn’t be alone. after heather’s demise she distances herself from duke, as she cannot stand the person that she’s become. she attracts the attention of jason dean for her rebellious attitude towards her ’ friends ‘ — something that will turn her life completely inside out. — MELISSA BENOIST.

JASON ’ JD ’ DEAN ; manipulative and an outcast, jason’s signature colour is black, symbolizing his mysterious and dramatic personality. a recluse, he eats alone at lunch at the table in the very back of the cafeteria. seeming inquisitive at first, he, like duke, begins to shed his layers as the plot progresses. cold and calculating, he sees the whole high school as ’ society ’ and plans to blow up the school to gain mass attention. the driving force between his actions is his relationship with veronica. he uses her as a method to get what he wants. after heather’s fall from grace, he persuades veronica to write out a letter in her handwriting as to not make them suspect. — LUKE HEMMINGS.

SUPPORTING:

KURT KELLY & RAM SWEENY ; your typical dumb jock trope. they are dimwitted, loud, boisterous, and absentminded. they are both on the football team, and take part in bullying, but not to the extent of the heather’s. they are always seen together ( even in death ) ram more so than kurt has better morals, by feeling uncomfortable by the bullying of martha. after their demise, their ghosts watch over the situation with martha and veronica — when sawyer reveals that she had written the note earlier at heather’s insistence, he and ram agree that it was way too harsh. — OPEN.

MARTHA DUNNSOTCK ; friendly and introverted, martha’s signature colour is pink, symbolizing compassion and playfulness. she is friends with veronica sawyer, and later heather mcnamara. she harbours a crush on kurt kelly and is genuinely ecstatic that he of all people had written her a note. mainly bullied because of her curvier build, she is a recluse whose only comfort is herself. — OPEN.

BETTY FINN ; like martha, betty is introverted and kindhearted. betty’s signature colour is orange, symbolizing her creativity and warm personality. a friend of veronica’s since they were little, she stills sees her as a true friend besides her connections to the most hated clique in school. she hangs out with the other ’ nerds ’ of the school and seems surprised when veronica invites her for a game of croquet back at her house. — ZENDAYA COLEMAN.

PETER DAWSON ; veronica’s friend and fellow helper for the newspaper. he is levelheaded and doesn’t believe in any of the rumours that begin to get spread around about her, kurt, and ram. his dream college is harvard, and can come off as quite pretentious. intelligent and extroverted, he starts several clubs at the school, including the ’ save the world ’ campaign. — JOE MAZZELLO.

MISS. FLEMING ; eccentric and free-spirited, miss fleming is always at the forfront of the issues in the school. she’s tried ( and failed ) to organise various campaigns for the school, but was shot down because of her ’ hippy-ish ways. ’ she sees the destruction of teenage adolescence after heather’s demise and forces her class to read over her letter, and then analyse every little section of it. she eventually succeeds in getting a filming crew at the school, and blows the situations involving the students way out of proportion; using it now as a cheap ploy for attention; her once good intentions have gone sour. — OPEN.

PLOT: 

the year is 1989, and veronica sawyer is the newest student to westerberg high school. shortly after her arrival, she catches the eye of heather chandler. gifted with the talent of replicating anyone’s handwriting, she proves to be a valuable asset to their reign — and later fall. joined by the piranha heather chandler, docile heather mcnamara, and book smart heather duke, she gives in and joins them on their crusade to rule the school body. eventually catching the eye of jason ’ jd ’ due to her defiance to chandler, he gets captivated by her and they begin a relationship. unbeknownst to her, he is deeply unhinged and has more cynical ideas besides mixing orange juice and milk. having to put most of her morals on the back burner, veronica struggles to juggle the pressure of popularity, a relationship, and her teen angst developing it’s own body count. 

ANYTHING ELSE ; this will be using the HIGH SCHOOL version of the musical. meaning, most profanity and triggering material will be cut back dramatically. 

CONTACT JEN IF INTERESTED!

[destiniesfic]

Hi, hey, henlo! Thank you for indulging my ask game-related curiosity and sorry about the scare, lol. That last glimpse of your creative/writing process was particularly interesting, and it does make a lot of sense - imo the only thing more impressive than your storytelling/plotter skills = your skinchanging magic, applied to characters.

I can't do the headless chicken dance over the update because I'm in "no moving on to the next chapter until you're done commenting on the previous one" jail [does it suck? ...I mean, I feel like a starving, shivering, barefoot 19th century street urchin outside a lively patisserie, pressing her face against the window, so yeah,you could say that, ha. Is it silly? Kinda- but I feel like I'd be taking something away from the entire experience otherwise]. So I thought I'd do something else and try to speculate on what's going down based on the song + edit [because historically, accurately predicting stuff is definitely a thing I do]. Now,the result of that was that a) I got curb-stomped by a bunch of Jinx feelings ["My throat's so fuckin' dry from sayin' sorry/Wake up a different person in the morning/Forget every lesson daddy taught me/I never learn, I just make it worse" + "Oh no, should've stayed home" 😭 Forget Silco, *I*'ll fight everyone,real or not,for her, SHE'S JUST A BAB I E ;A;] + got curb-stomped again when a few of their buddies joined in: more specifically, the idea that she might lose Vi sooner rather than later, that all that "red on red on red on red" vortex might swallow her whole- maybe temporarily, maybe not. Can't imagine how that would come about, and what [if any] part Jinx's mysterious visitor [the Top Shark-wannabe?] might have to play in it, but yeah. I'm just microdosing on whatever I can at this point [ also thinking about that sheet of paper in Silco's pocket + Jinx's "Who?Viktor?Oh,Viktor" is still periodically echoing in my mind]

Thank you so much for answering the rest of my 579 asks, too. I'm on the last leg of this whole thing [went to my first Con today], but I can't wait to sit down and throw more unhinged energy your way.

[Also!! Book recs!!🥺 I love book recs, thank you times infinity! +To be continued]

Always, Playlist Anon! (Although I know do, in fact, know your name now. You keep commenting on anon though, would you like to remain Playlist Anon?) No worries on the ask scare, and I'm glad that you seem to be having a good time on your travels. First con is so exciting, I hope you wore shoes that were good for walking in. That's my number one con tip. 😊

I hope you enjoy the book recs! It's a weird pairing of recs for sure, but at the very least you should have fun with Six of Crows.

And I'm happy to have all the speculation on record, but you know I can't say anything without spoiling you. I can absolve you from your comment duties, though? If that helps? You could read the chapter then? (As a side note: I'm interested that you came away with mainly Jinx feelings, which is completely understandable, but didn't mention that some of the song lyrics might also apply to Caitlyn, who canonically drank too much and made a fool of herself last night.)

Thanks for the ask, I always enjoy them very very much. Hope you're well!

[aaronmaurer]

Movies I Liked in 2019

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Despite everything else going on in the world, 2019 was a pretty good year for movies! I saw a lot of things I really enjoyed (thanks AMC A-List!) and managed to avoid all of the live action Disney remakes. While it was hard to whittle down my list to a self-imposed/arbitrary 10, these stood out as efforts I can see myself returning to again and again.

10. The Public

This low-key release from writer/director/star Emilio Estevez is a deeply humanist look at systemic failures to address homelessness in American cities. During a bitterly cold winter in Cincinnati, a group of people decide to occupy a public library overnight rather than be forced onto the life-threatening streets, and media, law enforcement and politicians all attempt to shape the narrative. With a supporting cast including Michael K Williams, Jena Malone, Jeffrey Wright and Alec Baldwin, this one is worth seeking out (and has some great shots of Cincy as well).

9. Toy Story 4

Did Toy Story need a fourth entry? I wouldn’t have thought so, but leave it to the magicians at Pixar to find new ways to animate (eh? eh?) these beloved characters – and introduce some great new ones. With the additions of Tony Hale’s Forky, Keanu Reeves’ Duke Caboom and Key & Peele’s Bunny & Ducky, this is easily the funniest Toy Story to date. However, it still packs an emotional wallop as well: if you can get through Gabby Gabby’s final scene with dry eyes you may not have a heart.

8. The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part

While not nearly as successful at the box office as its predecessor, the LEGO Movie sequel is just as funny, engaging and surprisingly moving. While the real-world metanarrative is no longer a surprise, the shift from parent-child relationship to that of siblings provides ample storytelling fodder that I related to even more than the original. And for the record, this was the first major movie released this year to feature a 5-year time jump – and time travel shenanigans (looking at you, Endgame).

7. The Boy Who Harnessed The Wind

Chiwetel Ejiofor adapted this true story of a boy in Malawi who devises a way to save his village from severe famine (his writing and directorial debut). The film doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of life in under-resourced areas but also embodies hope and ingenuity that know no socioeconomic or geographic bounds.

6. A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

I’ll admit I was skeptical upon hearing Tom Hanks would be playing Mr. Rogers – he’s a great actor but doesn’t bear much of a resemblance in appearance or demeanor. However, his success in the part comes from not trying to technically imitate Rogers as much as embody his spirit of decency, sincerity and kindness. The fact that this is not a Rogers biopic, but rather a story of his impact on the life of a journalist who is wrestling with cynicism, anger and unforgiveness, also helps matters (what a year for movies based on longform journalism! See also: Richard Jewell, Dark Waters). The writers and director Marielle Heller take some interesting chances including a cheeky framing device and transitions using Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood-inspired miniatures that help make this film something {ahem} special.  

5. The Current War: Director’s Cut

(Note: This film was originally set for release in 2017 and an unfinished version screened at film festivals that year to critical disdain. The Weinstein scandal mired it in development hell, but it got a second life in a new, finished version this fall as the “Director’s Cut.”)

This story of the “war of the currents,” as Thomas Edison and George Westinghouse raced to electrify America at the turn of the 20th century, snuck into theaters under-the-radar at the end of the summer but I am so glad I had the chance to see it on the big screen. Far from a conventional biopic or historical epic, there is a beautiful lyricism on display here with sweeping camera movements, innovative shot compositions, gorgeous use of light and color and a enveloping musical score. For a film that tracks multiple characters and locations for over a decade, there are moments of touching poignancy and intimacy that prevent it from becoming impersonal. I found it utterly compelling and transporting, though your mileage may vary.

4. Avengers: Endgame

It’s a rare Hollywood blockbuster that allows its characters time to grieve and process trauma, and even acknowledges the futility and emptiness of revenge. Endgame manages all that before launching into a time travel adventure and an ultimate showdown that pays off the 21 Marvel films that came before over the past 11 years. I’m sure it doesn’t make sense at all as a standalone, but for fans of these movies it was a satisfying conclusion to this era of the MCU, filled with humor and heart.

3. Little Women

I have no connection to the source material at all, having never read Louisa May Alcott’s book or seen any other screen adaptation, so I cannot compare it to anything that’s come before. I can say Greta Gerwig’s follow-up to Lady Bird is simply fantastic, with an engaging cast and beautiful cinematography that radiates warmth. I’ve read that the novel’s chronology is linear and this movie rearranges it with flashbacks, creating juxtapositions that reveal a great deal about characters, choices and the passage of time. It all leads to a somewhat meta finale that serves as a salute to the creative voice.

2. Ad Astra

As with the likes of Gravity and First Man in recent years, James Gray’s Ad Astra recognizes that traveling to our inner spaces is as transformative as venturing to the stars. Set in a near future where the moon is a rundown spaceport and Mars has been colonized, Brad Pitt plays an astronaut tasked with finding out what happened to his father’s missing mission to Neptune decades earlier. Atop a fascinating backdrop of space futurism, the film is a meditation on the loneliness and isolation of space and the meaningfulness of community and connection.

1. Knives Out

This relentlessly entertaining murder mystery from Rian Johnson (The Brothers Bloom, The Last Jedi) not only satisfies from a plot and character perspective, but delivers a level of social commentary and critique of white privilege akin to Get Out without feeling didactic about it. The cast is terrific all-around, but Daniel Craig’s starring turn as thickly drawling Detective Benoit Blanc is note-perfect, especially as he chews his way through Johnson’s hilariously meaty dialogue.

Bonus! Honorable Mentions:

Apollo 11 – Comprised of newly discovered and restored NASA footage of the first moon landing, this fresh and immediate documentary brings history to vivid life without leaning on talking heads or narration. (View alongside last year’s Neil Armstrong biopic First Man for an even richer experience.) 

Spider-Man: Far From Home and Captain Marvel – two more solid additions to the MCU that are honestly probably in my Top 10, but it seemed excessive to give 3 slots to Marvel and Endgame was the clear standout. That said, Gyllenhall’s performance as Mysterio was all types of fun (see also: his gleefully unhinged turn as “Mr. Music” in Netflix’s John Mulaney & The Sack Lunch Bunch special) in the former and directors Bowden and Fleck bring warmth and humanity to a great buddy comedy in the latter.

A Hidden Life – Terrance Mallick’s best work since Tree Of Life tells the true story of a rural Austrian farmer who refuses to swear a loyalty oath to Hitler and is arrested for treason. The three-hour run time could have probably been trimmed but its thought-provoking meditations on resistance and conscience get under your skin.

Klaus – A Netflix original that presents an origin story for the legend of Santa Claus sounded a bit rote to me, but its story contains surprising emotional weight (that honestly brought me to tears a few times) and it’s gorgeously animated in a style that finds a groundbreaking medium between 2D and 3D.

[bountyofbeads]

Behind the Ukraine Aid Freeze: 84 Days of Conflict and Confusion https://nyti.ms/39qrLdQ

Drip...drip...drip

“Trump’s demands sent shock waves through the White House& Pentagon,created deep rifts within the senior ranks of his administration...and ended only after Trump learned of a damning whistleblower report”

Senate should have all relevant witnesses!!

Also lets not forget that Ukraine is Ina hot war with Russia as Zelensky did a prisoner exchange yesterday of Ukrainian citizens from the Donbass region. Many prisoners are still being held in the Crimea region and countless other have been killed.

The more details we get, the worse the picture becomes. A coordinated quid pro quo, an executive branch out of control, a legitimate funding process undermined , and of course at the top of this pyramid, a man possessed with himself and nothing else.

Behind the Ukraine Aid Freeze: 84 Days of Conflict and Confusion

The inside story of President Trump’s demand to halt military assistance to an ally shows the price he was willing to pay to carry out his agenda.

By Eric Lipton, Maggie Haberman and Mark Mazzetti | Published Dec. 29, 2019 | New York Times | Posted December 30, 2019 |

WASHINGTON — Deep into a long flight to Japan aboard Air Force One with President Trump, Mick Mulvaney, the acting White House chief of staff, dashed off an email to an aide back in Washington.

“I’m just trying to tie up some loose ends,” Mr. Mulvaney wrote. “Did we ever find out about the money for Ukraine and whether we can hold it back?”

It was June 27, more than a week after Mr. Trump had first asked about putting a hold on security aid to Ukraine, an embattled American ally, and Mr. Mulvaney needed an answer.

The aide, Robert B. Blair, replied that it would be possible, but not pretty. “Expect Congress to become unhinged” if the White House tried to countermand spending passed by the House and Senate, he wrote in a previously undisclosed email. And, he wrote, it might further fuel the narrative that Mr. Trump was pro-Russia.

Mr. Blair was right, even if his prediction of a messy outcome was wildly understated. Mr. Trump’s order to hold $391 million worth of sniper rifles, rocket-propelled grenades, night vision goggles, medical aid and other equipment the Ukrainian military needed to fight a grinding war against Russian-backed separatists would help pave a path to the president’s impeachment.

The Democratic-led inquiry into Mr. Trump’s dealings with Ukraine this spring and summer established that the president was actively involved in parallel efforts — both secretive and highly unusual — to bring pressure on a country he viewed with suspicion, if not disdain.

One campaign, spearheaded by Rudolph W. Giuliani, the president’s personal lawyer, aimed to force Ukraine to conduct investigations that could help Mr. Trump politically, including one focused on a potential Democratic 2020 rival, former Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr.

The other, which unfolded nearly simultaneously but has gotten less attention, was the president’s demand to withhold the security assistance. By late summer, the two efforts merged as American diplomats used the withheld aid as leverage in the effort to win a public commitment from the new Ukrainian president, Volodymyr Zelensky, to carry out the investigations Mr. Trump sought into Mr. Biden and unfounded or overblown theories about Ukraine interfering in the 2016 election.

Interviews with dozens of current and former administration officials, congressional aides and others, previously undisclosed emails and documents, and a close reading of thousands of pages of impeachment testimony provide the most complete account yet of the 84 days from when Mr. Trump first inquired about the money to his decision in September to relent.

What emerges is the story of how Mr. Trump’s demands sent shock waves through the White House and the Pentagon, created deep rifts within the senior ranks of his administration, left key aides like Mr. Mulvaney under intensifying scrutiny — and ended only after Mr. Trump learned of a damning whistle-blower report and came under pressure from influential Republican lawmakers.

In many ways, the havoc Mr. Giuliani and other Trump loyalists set off in the State Department by pursuing the investigations was matched by conflicts and confusion in the White House and Pentagon stemming from Mr. Trump’s order to withhold the aid.

Opposition to the order from his top national security advisers was more intense than previously known. In late August, Defense Secretary Mark T. Esper joined Secretary of State Mike Pompeo and John R. Bolton, the national security adviser at the time, for a previously undisclosed Oval Office meeting with the president where they tried but failed to convince him that releasing the aid was in interests of the United States.

By late summer, top lawyers at the Office of Management and Budget who had spoken to lawyers at the White House and the Justice Department in the weeks beforehand, were developing an argument — not previously divulged publicly — that Mr. Trump’s role as commander in chief would simply allow him to override Congress on the issue.

And Mr. Mulvaney is shown to have been deeply involved as a key conduit for transmitting Mr. Trump’s demands for the freeze across the administration.

The interviews and documents show how Mr. Trump used the bureaucracy to advance his agenda in the face of questions about its propriety and even legality from officials in the White House budget office and the Pentagon, many of whom say they were kept in the dark about the president’s motivations and had grown used to convention-flouting requests from the West Wing. One veteran budget official who raised questions about the legal justification was pushed aside.

Those carrying out Mr. Trump’s orders on the aid were for the most part operating in different lanes from those seeking the investigations, including Mr. Giuliani and a number of senior diplomats, including Gordon D. Sondland, the ambassador to the European Union, and Kurt D. Volker, the State Department’s special envoy for Ukraine and Russia.

The New York Times found that some key players are now offering a defense that they did not know the diplomatic push for the investigations was playing out at the same time they were implementing the aid freeze — or if they were aware of both channels, they did not connect the two.

Mr. Mulvaney is said by associates to have stepped out of the room whenever Mr. Trump would talk with Mr. Giuliani to preserve Mr. Trump’s attorney-client privilege, leaving him with limited knowledge about their efforts regarding Ukraine. Mr. Mulvaney has told associates he learned of the substance of Mr. Trump’s July 25 call weeks after the fact.

Yet testimony before the House suggests a different picture. Fiona Hill, a top deputy to Mr. Bolton at the time, told the impeachment inquiry about a July 10 White House meeting at which Mr. Sondland said Mr. Mulvaney had guaranteed that Mr. Zelensky would be invited to the White House if the Ukrainians agreed to the investigations — an arrangement that Mr. Bolton described as a “drug deal,” according to Ms. Hill.

Along with Mr. Bolton and others, Mr. Mulvaney and Mr. Blair have declined to cooperate with impeachment investigators and provide information to Congress under oath, an intensifying point of friction between the two parties as the Senate prepares for Mr. Trump’s impeachment trial.

At the center of the maelstrom was the Office of Management and Budget, a seldom-scrutinized arm of the White House that during the Trump administration has often had to find creative legal reasoning to justify the president’s unorthodox policy proposals, like his demand to divert Pentagon funding to his proposed wall along the border with Mexico.

In the Ukraine case, however, shock about the president’s decision spread across America’s national security apparatus — from the National Security Council to the State Department and the Pentagon. By September, after the freeze had become public and scrutiny was increasing, the blame game inside the administration was in full swing.

On Sept. 10, the day before Mr. Trump changed his mind, a political appointee at the budget office, Michael P. Duffey, wrote a lengthy email to the Pentagon’s top budget official, with whom he had been at odds throughout the summer about how long the agency could withhold the aid.

He asserted that the Defense Department had the authority to do more to ensure that the aid could be released to Ukraine by the congressionally mandated deadline of the end of that month, suggesting that responsibility for any failure should not rest with the White House.

Forty-three minutes later, the Pentagon official, Elaine McCusker, hit send on a brief but stinging reply.

“You can’t be serious,” she wrote. “I am speechless.”

‘We Need to Hold It Up’

For top officials inside the budget office, the first warning came on June 19.

Informed that the president had a problem with the aid, Mr. Blair called Russell T. Vought, the acting head of the Office of Management and Budget. “We need to hold it up,” he said, according to officials briefed about the conversation.

Typical of the Trump White House, the inquiry was not born of a rigorous policy process. Aides speculated that someone had shown Mr. Trump a news article about the Ukraine assistance and he demanded to know more.

Mr. Vought and his team took to Google, and came upon a piece in the conservative Washington Examiner saying that the Pentagon would pay for weapons and other military equipment for Ukraine, bringing American security aid to the country to $1.5 billion since 2014.

The money, the article noted, was coming at a critical moment: Mr. Zelensky, a onetime comedian, had called ending the armed conflict with Russia in eastern Ukraine his top priority — a move that would likely only happen if he could negotiate from a position of strength.

The budget office officials had little idea of why Mr. Trump was interested in the topic, but many of the president’s more senior aides were well aware of his feelings about Ukraine. Weeks earlier, in an Oval Office meeting on May 23, with Mr. Sondland, Mr. Mulvaney and Mr. Blair in attendance, Mr. Trump batted away assurances that Mr. Zelensky was committed to confronting corruption.

“They are all corrupt, they are all terrible people,” Mr. Trump said, according to testimony in the impeachment inquiry.

The United States had been planning to provide $391 million in military assistance to Ukraine in two chunks: $250 million allocated by the Pentagon for war-fighting equipment — from sniper rifles to rocket-propelled grenade launchers — and $141 million controlled by the State Department to buy night-vision devices, radar systems and yet more rocket-grenade launchers.

With the money having been appropriated by Congress, it would be hard for the administration to keep it from being spent by the end of the fiscal year on Sept. 30.

The task of dealing with the president’s demands fell primarily to a group of political appointees in the West Wing and the budget office, most with personal and professional ties to Mr. Mulvaney. There was no public announcement that Mr. Trump wanted the assistance withheld. Neither Congress nor the Ukrainian government was formally notified.

Mr. Mulvaney had first served in the administration as the budget director, after three terms in the House, where he earned a reputation as a firebrand conservative.

The four top political appointees helping Mr. Mulvaney execute the hold — Mr. Vought, Mr. Blair, Mr. Duffey and Mark Paoletta, the budget office’s top lawyer — all had extensive experience in either congressional budget politics or Republican and conservative causes.

Their efforts would cause tension and at times conflict between officials at the budget office and the Pentagon, some of whom watched with growing alarm.

A Question of Legality

The single largest chunk of the federal government’s annual discretionary budget, some $800 billion a year, goes to the Pentagon, spy agencies and the Department of Veterans Affairs. The career official in charge of managing the flow of all that money for the budget office is an Afghanistan war veteran named Mark Sandy.

After learning about the president’s June 19 request, Mr. Sandy contacted the Pentagon to learn more about the aid package. He also repeatedly pressed Mr. Duffey about why Mr. Trump had imposed the hold in the first place.

“He didn’t provide an explicit response on the reason,” Mr. Sandy testified in the impeachment inquiry. “He simply said we need to let the hold take place — and I’m paraphrasing here — and then revisit this issue with the president.”

From the start, budget office officials took the position that the money did not have to go out the door until the end of September, giving them time to address the president’s questions.

It was easy enough for the White House to hold up the State Department portion of the funding. Since the State Department had not yet notified Congress of its plans to release the money, all it took was making sure that the notification did not happen.

Freezing the Pentagon’s $250 million portion was more difficult, since the Pentagon had already certified that Ukraine had met requirements set by Congress to show that it was addressing its endemic corruption and notified lawmakers of its intent to spend the money.

So on July 19, Mr. Duffey proposed an unusual solution: Mr. Sandy should attach a footnote to a routine budget document saying the money was being temporarily withheld.

Approving such requests is routine; Mr. Sandy processed hundreds each year. But attaching a footnote to block spending that the administration had already notified Congress was ready to go was not. Mr. Sandy said in testimony that he had never done it before in his 12 years at the agency.

And there was a problem with this maneuver: Mr. Sandy was concerned it might violate a law called the Impoundment Control Act that protects Congress’s spending power and prohibits the administration from blocking disbursement of the aid unless it notifies Congress.

“I asked about the duration of the hold and was told there was not clear guidance on that,” Mr. Sandy testified. “So that is what prompted my concern.”

Mr. Sandy sought advice from the top lawyers at the budget office.

A Pivotal Day

For a full month, the fact that Mr. Trump wanted to halt the aid remained confined primarily to a small group of officials.

That ended on July 18, when a group of top administration officials meeting on Ukraine policy — including some calling in from Kyiv — learned from a midlevel budget office official that the president had ordered the aid frozen.

“I and the others on the call sat in astonishment,” William B. Taylor Jr., the top United States diplomat in Ukraine, testified to House investigators. “In an instant, I realized that one of the key pillars of our strong support for Ukraine was threatened.”

That same day, aides on the House Foreign Affairs Committee received four calls from administration sources warning them about the hold and urging them to look into it.

A week later came Mr. Trump’s fateful July 25 call with Mr. Zelensky. Mr. Bolton, the national security adviser, had recommended the call take place in an effort to end the “incessant lobbying” from officials like Mr. Sondland that the two leaders connect.

Some of Mr. Trump’s aides had thought the call might lead Mr. Trump to lift the freeze. But Mr. Trump did not specifically mention the hold, and instead asked Mr. Zelensky to look into Mr. Biden and his son and into supposed Ukrainian involvement in the 2016 election. Among those listening on the call was Mr. Blair.

Mr. Blair has told associates he did not make much of Mr. Trump’s requests during the call for the investigations. He saw the aid freeze not as a political tool, but as an extension of Mr. Trump’s general aversion to foreign aid and his belief that Ukraine is rife with corruption.

Just 90 minutes after the call ended, and following days of email traffic on the topic, Mr. Duffey, Mr. Sandy’s boss, sent out a new email to the Pentagon, where officials were impatient about getting the money out the door. His message was clear: Do not spend it.

“Given the sensitive nature of the request, I appreciate your keeping that information closely held to those who need to know to execute the direction,” Mr. Duffey wrote in his note, which was released this month to the Center for Public Integrity.

This caused immediate discomfort at the Pentagon, with a top official there noting that this hold on military assistance was coming on the same day Ukraine announced it had seized a Russian tanker — a potential escalation in the conflict between the two nations.

On that same day, Mr. Sandy, having received the go-ahead from the budget office’s lawyers, took the first official step to legally impose what they called a “brief pause,” inserting a footnote into the budget document that prohibited the Pentagon from spending any of the aid until Aug. 5.

By that point, officials in Ukraine were getting word that something was up. At the same time, the effort to win a commitment from the Ukrainians for the investigations sought by Mr. Trump was intensifying, with Mr. Giuliani and a Zelensky aide, Andriy Yermak, meeting in Madrid on Aug. 2 and the diplomats Mr. Sondland and Mr. Volker also working the issue.

And inside the intelligence community, a C.I.A. officer was hearing talk about the two strands of pressure on Ukraine, including the aid freeze. Seeing how they fit together, he was alarmed enough that by Aug. 12 he would take the extraordinary step of laying them out in detail in a confidential whistle-blower complaint.

A ‘POTUS-level Decision’

Keeping a hold on the assistance was now a top priority, so officials moved to tighten control over the money.

In a very unusual step, the White House removed Mr. Sandy’s authority to oversee the aid freeze. The job was handed in late July to Mr. Sandy’s boss, Mr. Duffey, the political appointee, the official ultimately responsible for apportionments but one who had little experience in the nuts and bolts of the budget office process.

As the debate over the aid continued, disagreements flared. Two budget office staff members left the agency after the summer. Mr. Sandy testified that their departures were related to the aid freeze, a statement disputed by budget office officials.

Pentagon officials, in the dark about the reason for the holdup, grew increasingly frustrated. Ms. McCusker, the powerful Pentagon budget official, notified the budget office that either $61 million of the money would have to be spent by Monday, Aug. 12 or it would be lost. The budget office saw her threat as a ploy to force release of the aid.

At the White House, which had been looped into the dispute by the budget office, there was a growing consensus that officials could find a legal rationale for continuing the hold, but with the Monday deadline looming, it was a “POTUS-level decision,” one official said.

Complicating matters, another budget battle was escalating. Mr. Vought was attempting to impose cuts of as much as $4 billion on the nation’s overall foreign aid budget. It was an entirely separate initiative from the Ukraine freeze, and was quickly abandoned, but helped the White House establish that its concern about aid was not limited to Ukraine.

By the second week of August, Mr. Duffey had taken to issuing footnotes every few days to block the Pentagon spending. Office of Management and Budget lawyers approved each one.

Mr. Trump spent the weekend before the Pentagon’s Aug. 12 deadline at Bedminster, his New Jersey golf resort.

In a previously unreported sequence of events, Mr. Mulvaney worked to schedule a call for that day with Mr. Trump and top aides involved in the freeze, including Mr. Vought, Mr. Bolton and Pat Cipollone, the White House counsel. But they waited to set a final time because Mr. Trump had a golf game planned for Monday morning with John Daly, the flamboyant professional golfer, and they did not know how long it would take.

Late that morning, Ms. McCusker checked in with the budget office. “Hey, any update for us?” she asked in an email obtained by Center for Public Integrity.

Mr. Duffey was still waiting for an answer as of late that afternoon. “Elaine — I don’t have an update,” he wrote back. “I am attempting to get one.”

The planned-for conference call with the president never happened. Budget office lawyers decided that Ms. McCusker had inaccurately raised alarms about the Aug. 12 date to try to force their hand.

In Bedminster with Mr. Trump, Mr. Mulvaney finally reached the president and the answer was clear: Mr. Trump wanted the freeze kept in place. In Washington, the whistle-blower submitted his report that same day.

The National Security Team Intervenes

Inside the administration, pressure was mounting on Mr. Trump to reverse himself.

Backed by a memo saying the National Security Council, the Pentagon and the State Department all wanted the aid released, Mr. Bolton made a personal appeal to Mr. Trump on Aug. 16, but was rebuffed.

On Aug. 28, Politico published a story reporting that the assistance to Ukraine had been frozen. After more than two months, the issue, the topic of fiery internal debate, was finally public.

Mr. Bolton’s relationship with the president had been deteriorating for months, and he would leave the White House weeks later, but on this front he had powerful internal allies.

On a sunny, late-August day, Mr. Bolton, Mr. Esper and Mr. Pompeo arrayed themselves around the Resolute desk in the Oval Office to present a united front, the leaders of the president’s national security team seeking to convince him face to face that freeing up the money for Ukraine was the right thing to do. One by one they made their case.

“This is in America’s interest,” Mr. Bolton argued, according to one official briefed on the gathering.

“This defense relationship, we have gotten some really good benefits from it,” Mr. Esper added, noting that most of the money was being spent on military equipment made in the United States.

Mr. Trump responded that he did not believe Mr. Zelensky’s promises of reform. He emphasized his view that corruption remained endemic and repeated his position that European nations needed to do more for European defense.

“Ukraine is a corrupt country,” the president said. “We are pissing away our money.”

The aid remained blocked. On Aug. 31, Senator Ron Johnson, Republican of Wisconsin, arranged a call with Mr. Trump. Mr. Johnson had been told days earlier by Mr. Sondland that the aid would be unblocked only if the Ukrainians gave Mr. Trump the investigations he wanted.

When Mr. Johnson asked Mr. Trump directly if the aid was contingent on getting a commitment to pursue the investigations, Mr. Johnson later said, Mr. Trump replied, amid a string of expletives, that there was no such demand and he would never do such a thing.

Around the same time, White House lawyers informed Mr. Trump about the whistle-blower’s complaint regarding his pressure campaign. It is not clear how much detail the lawyers provided the president about the details of the complaint, which noted the aid freeze.

Mr. Trump was scheduled to travel to Poland on Sept. 1 to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the outbreak of World War II, and had planned to get together with Mr. Zelensky. Some administration officials hoped meeting the new Ukrainian president in person would change Mr. Trump’s mind.

But a hurricane was bearing down on the United States, and Mr. Trump sent Vice President Mike Pence in his place. When Mr. Zelensky raised the issue with the vice president, Mr. Pence said he should speak with Mr. Trump.

Behind the scenes in Warsaw, Mr. Sondland, the American envoy who was Mr. Trump’s point person on getting the Ukrainians to agree to the investigations, had a blunter message. Until the Ukrainians publicly announced the investigations, he told Mr. Yermak, the Zelensky adviser, they should not expect to get the military aid. (Mr. Yermak has questioned Mr. Sondland’s account.)

An Abrupt Reversal

By late summer, top lawyers at the budget office were developing a proposed legal justification for the hold, based in part on conversations with White House lawyers as well as the Justice Department.

Their argument was that lifting the hold would undermine Mr. Trump’s negotiating position in his efforts to fight corruption in Ukraine.

The president, the lawyers believed, could ignore the requirements of the Impoundment Control Act and continue to hold the aid by asserting constitutional commander in chief powers that give him authority over diplomacy. He could do so, they believed, if he determined that, based on existing circumstances, releasing the money would undermine military or diplomatic efforts.

But divisions within the administration continued to widen; Mr. Bolton was opposed to using an argument proffered by administration lawyers to block the funding. And pressure from Congress was intensifying. Mr. Johnson and another influential Republican, Senator Rob Portman of Ohio, were both pushing for the aid to be released.

On a call with Mr. Portman on Sept. 11, Mr. Trump repeated his familiar refrain about other nations not doing enough to support Ukraine.

“Sure, I agree with you,” Mr. Portman responded, according to an aide who described the exchange. “But we should not hold that against Ukraine. We need to release these funds.”

Democrats in the House were gearing up to limit Mr. Trump’s power to hold up the money to Ukraine, and the chairmen of three House committees had also announced on Sept. 9 that they were opening an investigation.

Still, White House officials did not expect anything to change, especially since Mr. Trump had repeatedly rejected the advice of his national security team.

But then, just as suddenly as the hold was imposed, it was lifted. Mr. Trump, apparently unwilling to wage a public battle, told Mr. Portman he would let the money go.

White House aides rushed to notify their counterparts at the Pentagon and elsewhere. The freeze had been lifted. The money could be spent. Get it out the door, they were told.

The debate would now begin as to why the hold was lifted, with Democrats confident they knew the answer.

“I have no doubt about why the president allowed the assistance to go forward,” said Representative Eliot L. Engel, Democrat of New York and the chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee. “He got caught.”

______

Adam Goldman, Edward Wong and Peter Baker contributed reporting.

A few interesting comments from readers on #Ukrainegate and the impeachment of Donald J Trump:

"The Trump White House is thoroughly corrupt. Ms. Pelosi was right -- all roads lead from Trump to Putin. It is important now that the House hold off on triggering the Senate Kangaroo Court until further evidence is uncovered, as it has here. And perhaps someone -- I'm looking at you, Mr. Bolton -- will grow a spine and testify."

LAURAF, GREAT WHITE NORTH

" In this article you call Trump's holding back of aid to Ukraine as 'leverage'. I call it bribery or extortion and it should have been called that in the Articles of Impeachment. But what I don't get is why all these supposedly 'honorable people, Pompeo, Mulvaney, Bolton and others cited here have not resigned in mass or demand to testify against there corrupt boss. They may have been shocked or outraged, but without their open testimony it means nothing. And don' tell me because it is because of executive privilege or that they are waiting for a judge to say it is OK. Rather it is aiding in a cover up and their failure to step forward must be seen that way." ROBERT, NC

"I voted for the Republican Party presidential candidate from 1968 up to 2008. I was ready to vote for McCain in 2008 until he appointed Sarah Palin as his running mate. I am not ready to say Trump worked with Putin to get elected, but Putin has to be very pleased. We have lost much of our stature in the world. The shenanigans pulled by Trump relating to coercing Ukraine to dig up dirt on Biden is terrible. Our nation's stature will take decades to repair, if ever and if we as citizens reelect him again it will never be repaired, at least in my lifetime and the lifetime of my sons. I admit that Biden should have known better to have his son accept a Board seat on a Ukrainian gas company, but to hold back federal funding to dig up dirt is deplorable. Trump's actions can only be described as coercion for political purposes." SBANICKI, MICHIGAN

" It's head-shaking, mind boggling to think that the 'very stable genius" residing in The White House can actually pull this off. He's not of course, it's his minions and sycophants. If he is a genius, he is a genius at getting others to do the dirty work and to keep pushing, pushing, pushing back, pushing forward, blazing a path to destruction. And he's had decades of experience in this sort of play. He loves it and it's sad that it's come to tear the country asunder. And more sad is the unquietening fear that he will continue to succeed." JOSEPH, WASHINGTON DC

"Gee, I wonder where this corrupt administration got the idea of going around congress and diverting congressionally approved funds to accomplish some whim of the Presidents. Well, they had already done it to fund his border wall and got away with it, so why not try it again? Now, he'll get away with this albeit at the cost of an impeachment if the Emperor of the Senate, Mitch McConnell, has his way. The question is how much more corruption by this President has been covered up by his helpful enablers?"

PAUL RICHARDSON, LOS ALAMOS

"Now I more fully understand why McConnell and the entire Republican Party want to block any and all actual witnesses at impeachment hearings. This President is guilty as charged."

DAVID, OHIO

"There is a group out there, maybe 10-15%, that are negatively influenced by the continuing chaos that is Trump's decision making. His base looks away, but that 10-15% are disgusted with his cavalier, self serving style. Though little of this reporting seems to move the needle with his supporters; ultimately it will have an impact with Independent voters. Though I doubt this will dramatically influence Senate Republicans in the near term, I think it will show at the ballot box in November 2020. I relish every bit of this reporting/ disclosure. Trump's angry Tweets seem to support that he feels the heat."

DAVID HOFFMAN, GRAND JUNCTION

"It is beyond belief that anybody could possibly defend this blatant corruption and abuse of power. The fact that an entire political party (Republicans) have chosen to serve as co-conspirators and defend this behavior is even more difficult to believe. I suspect that unless we're fortunate enough to flip the Senate and the Executive in 2020, we'll be stuck with this type of mafiosa government for the foreseeable future."

RICHARD WILSON, BOSTON MA

"The corruption, the criminality, the incompetence, the complicity, the utter disrespect for law — each is worse than the others. Every staffer, advisor, Congressman, Senator, Attorney General, Republican Party supporter — every single individual American who does not stand up and shout against this stinking abuse of power, is a party to this administration’s assault on the very fiber of our government."

WITNESS, HOUSTON

"Actually, I suspected Bolton was at the bottom of the Whistleblower complaint based on some of his alleged comments. Bolton, while I don’t like him, knew what was going on was wrong and extracted himself from it. He needs to speak up." ABOLSON

"After having read this, the phrase "a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing" runs through my head regarding Trump and Ukraine. Could it really be really as simple as Trump doing Putin's bidding? What other interpretation makes any sense? (Rhetorical?)"FRED, UP NORTH

[maudlinbear]

In My Feelings . . . Don’t @ Me!

For real though, what am I thinking?  Even before I start writing, I am already feeling the pressure with just the thought of even mentioning this song.  But I suppose I want to be driven forward by creativity and inspiration, and not driven away by fear.  For whomever is reading, just know that I am always coming from a place of humility and love.  And so we begin!  I Will Always Love You, performed by Whitney Houston, this, one of the greatest songs of all time, performed by one of the greatest voices of all time, will be "often imitated, never duplicated".  There is everything and nothing to write about this piece.  We could set up a whole weekend seminar to break everything down: the voice, the emotion, the lyrics, the power, the RUNS, that saxophone solo, the moment in the music video at the pause followed by the most dramatic eye opening and full throat climax in our lifetime, the falsetto, the BELT, the vibrato, and let's not forget the cultural impact, I mean seriously a masterclass in vocal performance.  At the same time though, I feel like everyone already knows how amazing this song is, so what more could I say?  Much smarter and more cultured scholars could provide more detailed analyses or nuanced arguments.  But alas, I wanted to use this blog to express how I feel, not offer a thesis, so that's what I'm going to do.  

The Bodyguard came out when I was six years old.  I grew up hearing this song on the radio, and learned all the words before I knew what the words meant.  To me, the song had always just existed.  Later in life, after watching the movie, I started to understand how the words fit into the plot of the story, but still they were just pretty lyrics sung by an incomparable artist.  Since I've never been in love or experienced that heartbreak, I didn't really understand the emotions in the song.  I think I've always appreciated Whitney's voice and technique, but back then I only pretended to know about those feelings because everyone else's reactions to the song were so powerful.  Only recently did I go through an experience where the lyrics of the song took on a whole new meaning.  I discovered a nuance and maturity that was more about growing up than being heartbroken.  I fell in love with the song even more because I'm learning a non-romantic love-related life lesson right now.  To find a song that I relate to is always a big deal, but when it is coupled with the vocals of the legendary Whitney Houston, it changes my whole perspective.  You know those songs where you've listened to them so many times that you've memorized every note and every run and every instrumental beat that it just becomes rote?  But then all of a sudden, something new reveals itself and blows your mind?  That's what I'm excited about today.  

So here's my story.  I recently went to two Sam Smith The Thrill Of It All tour stops.  I'm a long time Little Sailor, and I love seeing Sam perform live.  I will never stop, ever.  I was at his first show in DC in 2014 at the 500 person capacity U Street Music Hall.  I waited in lines for hours and flew on planes to get to four other shows during the In The Lonely Hour era.  It was a glorious time of excitement, inspiration, and self-discovery.  Unfortunately, this recent experience paled in comparison for a couple reasons.  First, the subject matter of The Thrill Of It All record is less relatable for me than In The Lonely Hour.  I still enjoy the songs and the sounds, and I love that four of the tracks still hit me really hard.  However, Sam and I are obviously experiencing much different things this time around with different priorities and perspectives.  If I'm honest, I might still be in that lonely hour.  So not surprisingly, I found myself slightly less invested in experiencing the new show compared to my unhinged level of excitement at previous shows.  And that frankly made me feel a little guilty that I didn't love the music more.  Second, Sam Smith, the star, has grown in popularity with higher demand and expectations surrounding him.  His shows are bigger, and he isn't able to come out to meet fans like he once did.  At previous shows, I had been able to give him some flowers or give him a hug and thank him in person.  Unfortunately, he wasn't able to do that at the recent shows that I attended, and that, coupled with the bigger audiences, made me miss that sense of connection.  Now this is no shade to Sam at all.  I'm sure I can't comprehend the breadth of the immense pressures on him from everywhere, the awkwardness of meeting complete strangers, and the logistical challenge for his security team.  I also do not expect him to meet fans outside every show.  I just had hope that the stars would have aligned, and he could come out at the shows I attended.  Yes, I recognize the ludicrousness in that statement.  In any case, I am genuinely happy that his tour is massive and that so many people get a chance to experience his gorgeous voice.  But a part of me also misses those old times when it was less of a production, and I felt a stronger bond with a simple guy singing songs that were about my life.

Don't get me wrong, I had a great time at the shows.  There were beautiful silhouettes, dramatic moments, and incredible vocals.  I even splurged on a front row ticket at one show and had a nice VIP lounge experience.  The other time I purchased a floor seat in front of the stage which really allowed me to experience the breathtaking production and drama of the show.  However, when I got home, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that Sam had felt so far away even with my front row ticket.  He also couldn't come out before or after the show to meet us fans.  When that didn't happen, I had to accept that things were different now.  And that's when I Will Always Love You popped into my head.  Each of the three verses was teaching me a lesson in letting go because the disappointment was really putting me in a negative space.  I didn't want to be resentful of Sam and tarnish the beauty he had created.  I also didn't want to be so melancholy after such a wonderful concert experience.  And this song helped me process my feelings.  The first line, "If I should stay, I would only be in [my] way" is my inner monologue.  I realized that my expectations were too high, and that I was just setting myself up for a letdown.  Yes, I paid for a fantastic concert and that's what I received, but I also was unfairly craving that interaction where I could make sure Sam understood my appreciation for his work.  In the second verse, "bittersweet memories" is the perfect description for the thoughts swirling around my mind.  That term helped validate my sad thoughts and make me more accepting of them without scolding myself for being sad.  The line, "So goodbye, please don't cry," taught me that sometimes, it's okay to move on when something isn't right anymore.  I learned that holding on to the hope that the new music and the new shows would give me the same euphoria as the the first run was useless, and that it was okay that things are not what they used to be.  The third verse is the final resolution.  It teaches me that I don't need to be disappointed or mad that things didn't work out.  Life is never perfect, and dwelling on negativity is not healthy.  I can cherish the good times, and just pass along my good energy for the future.  There are so many good things in those lyrics: kindness, dreams, joy, happiness, and of course love!  I wish everything in that verse for Sam.  The sentiment in the chorus rings true.  I will always love Sam Smith.  I believed that we had familiar mindsets and energies during the first album and tour, and that's why it was such a transformative time for me.  Now we've both grown in different directions, and it's okay that synergy is no longer there.  Sam will always hold a special place in my heart.  I am choosing to appreciate the past and the present for what they are, and just keep it moving.  I can be sad, but I won't let that hold me back from doing what I need to do to fulfill my own dreams. 

Now I know this whole blog may seem a bit ridiculous.  I am all up in my feelings right now.  Sam Smith came along at a pivotal time in my life and helped me get through a lot of stuff just by being kind to me in those precious moments when I met him.  He once saw me and that helped me see myself, which changed my life forever.  He is very important to me.  I had hoped I could recreate those moments on this tour, but alas, it was not meant to be.  And that's okay.  I have my memories, and how fitting is it that today is Whitney's birthday and she is one of Sam's favorite singers.  This song will forever remind me of the life lessons from two of my favorite artists.  Happy Birthday, Whitney!  Rest in peace.  

[thedeadlyd]

Deadly D’s SE Asia Tour 2018 "Tales From the Road" What's Up! Magazine (Bellingham, WA) July 2018 Issue “Well it’s been a year Gary, what we doing this time?” I asked in regards to our last tour, one that consisted of 7 states in 5 weeks. After considering if we should hit the same route and build on what we started or go somewhere new, the DJ’s response was simply, “Go big or go home”. I already knew what this meant. Seeing how our availability to hit the road is limited, we need to maximize our time spent away. Should we hit the east coast this time? Or should we head somewhere that would add to our passport’s stamp collection? One thing we discovered on our previous excursion-something initially done out of a desire to cut down on accommodation costs-was that hostels are awesome. Not only could you save yourself some coin but also they made it possible to meet a hell of a lot of people from all over the globe. Ones just like us, seeking adventure and new friends. This is pretty tough to do holed up in some hotel room. From a traveling hip hop duo’s perspective, this element proved to be indispensable in our attempt to spread our music. With this mind, we began thinking where we could find a location that provides a hostel circuit worthy of our cause. After some microbrew infused research sessions at McKay’s Taphouse, it was decided that Vietnam and Thailand were the destinations of choice. Enter Deadly D’s “Plant the SEADD Tour 2018”. Both countries attract hostel goers from around the world. If you can accept that your life for the next month plus will consist of dorm style living with complete strangers, you will be introduced to a magical world that can only be discovered by stepping out of your comfort zone. Knowing that booking shows in such a foreign land would be difficult, we figured the environment would help streamline the process. With so many new people with insider tips, local staffers that could point us to the closest open mics and nightly activities such as pub-crawls accompanied by late night karaoke and freestyle cyphers, we figured we’d have little issue unearthing opportunities. So we decided to commit ourselves to find out and booked our flight to Vietnam. A week before we set out I received a message from an old high school friend that read, “What time does your flight land in Ho Chi Minh? I’m picking you up”. As it turned out my buddy Matt now lived there. Seeing our flight arrived at 1am, having a familiar face greet us upon arrival was a much better introduction to this new land than deliriously showing up at an airport with no idea of where to go. After a quick stop at Bui Vien-the street that never sleeps-for a beer and a banh mi, we crashed out a Matt’s apartment to rest up for our first day in the nation’s capital. The first question raised in the AM was “Holy shit. How many people live here? And better yet, HOW MANY SCOOTERS ARE THERE?!” Turns out 8.5 million residents followed by 7.5 million motorized bikes. And by the looks of it, they all run and I swear they ALL do at the same time. It’s honestly something you must witness in person. Seeing how that many motorists, driving from all directions, can actually make it work. It’s the definition of organized chaos. The way it was put to me, “You can only focus on what’s directly in front of you. Don’t worry about what’s behind you because everyone there is doing the same thing”. Regardless, we figured it would be best to save our first scooter experience for another city. One amazing aspect we discovered out there was the local expat communities (expats being individuals now residing in a country they weren't born in) and their willingness to help fellow foreigners navigate this distant land. Utilizing each city's expat Facebook group page turned out to be one of the most useful tools during our trip. In Ho Chi Minh City-or Saigon if you will-this process linked us up with our first show, only 2 days into our journey. Given the opportunity to link up with Ass Kicking Crew, the city’s #1 B-Boy posse, we couldn’t of asked for a better introduction to the local hip hop scene. Welcomed with open arms we were invited to play a show at Cipherz, a venue owned and operated by one of the crew’s OG’s Style D. The talent and humility of these cats was unreal. Representing hip hop in such a way that the US did in the 80’s, they could do it all. MC, DJ, break, graffiti. All 4 elements were on full display. Gary learned some new tricks on the tables from his new friend Phu. I was passing the mic back and forth with B-Boy Xell. Shit was ill. After many Larue beers and a spread of local street food, our first show in Asia came to a close. But not before we were invited to the weekends festivities: Ass Kicking Jam 2018. HCMC’s annual B-Boy summit just happened to fall on our first weekend and we had no idea what we were in for. Bringing his Canon 80D, Gary figured this would be a prime opportunity to put his videographer skills to the test. With over 150 break dancers from Vietnam, Germany, Ukraine, Australia and beyond, what we witnessed was something even a camera can’t properly describe (though we will try.. Video coming soon!!). The creativity, originality, pure dexterity and stamina exhibited was incredible. We got to see the lil’ homie Xell take on and battle the entire Ass Kicking Crew as his initiation into the group. Proud to say he succeeded and we were able to witness history. Even Phu who informed me that he doesn’t break and just cuts records proceeded to get into the action. Our first stop was insane. Alright, Vietnam. We see you. From there we took a jumper flight to Da Nang. Hostel on point. Hopped in on a food tour and pub crawl to get the lay of the land. It was here where we worked up the courage to attempt our first scooter excursion. We'll be okay if we can make it out of the city to the coastline where traffic is a little less intimidating right? Wrong. Within minutes we were convinced we would become one of those horror stories you hear of tourists who get acquainted with pavement in a bad way. Luckily this wasn’t the case and we finally made it to the beach unscathed. Good thing we did because this led to the most amazing jaunt up Monkey Mountain and built up a confidence to utilize the most effective mode of travel in SE Asia, which we capitalized upon the rest of the trip. Equipped with a GoPro on Gary’s helmet we scooted on down Hoi An. Took a pit stop at Marble Mountain, pulled some touristy shit and let go paper lanterns in the Thu Bon River via longboats and partied after hours at Tiger Tiger 2 Bar with our new friend and local guide Nguyen AKA “call me Justin”. After a late night cruise and Gary’s abrupt brush with death as he stepped off a cliff when attempting to take a leak, we made it somewhat safely back to the pad. From there we proceeded north to Halong Bay, where we kayaked through caves and explored lagoons surrounded by islands occupied by communities of monkeys. We paid a local fisherman to take us and our newly formed production team of youngin’s from the Netherlands to a deserted dreamlike island for a music video shoot. Captain Bird took to the air for his drone’s inaugural flight. Vietnam is insane y’all. It’s such a beautiful place and the people are incredible. Visiting a place with a history coinciding with our own in the way that it does is humbling to say the least. Taking a walk through the war museum or a Buddhist orphanage to visit with kids still being affected by the tragedies their country faced due to our past influence, you can understand why emotions can run a little high at times. We will forever be grateful for all we experienced in this amazing place. We could of spent our entire tour in Vietnam and still not even come close to seeing it all. But this would have to wait; we had to pick up our singer in Bangkok! So off to Thailand we go! Having lived there once upon a time ago, Lydia would not only act as our fellow bandmate but as a personal tour guide and translator as well. Which was great for a couple of clueless tourists. Another perfect timing “yeah we meant to do that” realization was that we showed up during the Thai New Year, Songkran. As a nation we should take notes because we’re doin’ it all wrong. Seeing entire cities engaged in an all out water gun warzone is waaaay more fun than fireworks. Especially spending it in Bang Saen, a place where locals who seem to have never seen white folk go for the holidays. Pure unhinged, positive energy. We then made our way to the jungles of Chiang Mai, hit up the all night hip hop club “Spicy” and swam with elephants. Yeah you heard me. After we said peace out to the big homies we had to catch a flight back to Bangkok for one of our more influential shows. Connecting with SuperFly, Freshly Squeezed Sounds and everyone at Live Lounge BKK, opened up a world of possibilities for when we make our return trip. Nearing the end of our tale we decided on our next destination. With Lyds headed back home it was up to us to finish this thing out strong. We'd be put to the test as we dropped our pin on Phucket and the infamous Bangla Road. Booking our stay at Slumber Party hostel, we discovered it lived up well beyond what its name might imply. This is where you go to party. This is where you go to dance at clubs with a capacity that could squeeze in all of Bellingham, a place that can really make you feel your age. I’m proud of how we faired. Well there we were. Finish line in sight. A little over a monththat felt like a lifetime yet went by in the blink of an eye. We returned to HCMC for a final farewell jam session with our Ass Kicking brethren before we headed home. Though this felt like home too. Guess that’s why we do this. Always trying to find that Highway Home. Guess that’s why we’re already planning the next journey. ‘Til next time friends. ~Deadly D Article Link: https://www.deadlyd.com/news/deadlydseasiatourrecap