#version without victorian cats: 'THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN'

[cartograffiti]

July '23 reading diary

I'm reading so many books these days that I've decided monthly posts would be a fun way to think about what books are grabbing me and shove them in front of other people.

In July I finished 12 books, many of them really lovely.

This summer I've been reading all of Cat Sebastian's 20th century romances, because I'd already read all her 18th and 19th century ones. I like her work a lot, because it's full of really powerful romantic gestures and she writes domestic slice of life as well as crimes. In July I read the last three I needed to have read her whole body of work, and found a new favorite.

Peter Cabot Gets Lost and Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots are the second and third in a romance series that can easily be read out of order, all about estranged queer members of a Kennedys-ish political family. Peter's is a 1960s coast-to-coast road trip about fresh college grads with outstanding grumpy for sunshine chemistry, and it's the one that became my new favorite (my previous favorite was A Duke in Disguise). It has a wonderful ease and warmth to it, and I would have cheerfully read a version twice as long.

His cousin Daniel's book has some odd pacing--the last several chapters all feel like bonus codas to the main arc--but I enjoyed it all so much I don't care. This one's a cozy plot of friends who everyone knows are couple except themselves, starring a music critic and a doctor in New York's East Village in the 1970s. This is a great pick for anyone who feels like romances tend to move too fast, since their relationship is well established when they decide to change it. Their attraction to each other has a lot of emphasis on each other's quirks and their opposing personal styles, which is deeply cute.

The third Cat Sebastian I read was We Could Be So Good, which is her new release. It's a touching story about New York newspapermen in the 1950s, with an astonishing amount of pining. Like, Pacific Northwest pine content. I remarked in my liveblog that I felt like I was watching pandas in a zoo: "Please fuck the whole world would love for you to fuck, top scientists are trying to set the mood for you." This was fun! I prefer her faster-moving and more explicit books, which is most of them, but it's nice to read about a personable couple helping each other over hurdles so they can kiss.

The English Eccentrics by Edith Sitwell is a book I read very slowly and finished this month. It's a very odd work of nonfiction from the 1930s, and I wish I could remember how I first got interested in it. It's an overview of a large number of historical people whose "eccentricity" ranged, for me, from delightful to pitiable to repellent. Sitwell's style is a bit dense and full of opinion in a way that made me question her research when she touched on figures I had some familiarity with, like the con artist Princess Caraboo. More intriguing than informative.

The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street by Helene Hanff is a more satisfying nonfiction pick, a memoir follow up to the hugely charming 84, Charing Cross Road. This book recounts American writer Hanff's visit to some of the long-distance friends she corresponded with in the first book. I find the first much more moving, as a person with many similar friendships, and I missed the additional voices of her friends, but it's a slim book and Hanff's humor and observations kept me entertained throughout.

And my favorite nonfiction in July was Girls Can Kiss Now, a book of essays on pop culture and queer identity by Jill Gutowitz. Gutowitz is older than I am, but we're close enough in age for events to feel very relevant to me as an individual, and she writes with a lot of approachability and lightness without sacrificing insight. If you're interested in how rapidly media handling of queerness changed in the last 20 years, this is great.

Threshold and Stormhaven by Jordan L. Hawk. I read Widdershins, the first in this series about Victorian boyfriends solving mysteries about eldritch horrors, in 2015. I never quite wanted to invest in buying the whole series, so I was delighted to find one of my libraries has an omnibus of the series in their e-collection. Hawk is very good at writing horror and sex, solid at writing mysteries, and maybe just okay at interpersonal arcs. These first books have some problems common to inexperienced writers and some pet peeves of mine (notably very irritating romantic jealousy), but they're loads of fun and a good amount of disturbing. Is it silly to nervously roll over in bed to cope with an alien shrimp's dialogue? Yes, but that's a selling point.

A Curious Beginning by Deanna Raybourn is the first Veronica Speedwell novel, and it took me a few months to read because I kept finding it a bit thin and putting it aside. I liked the resolution very much because it made the stakes I'd been missing real, and since Veronica and her love interest(?) have great chemistry, I look forward to reading the next. Pleasingly similar in tone and setting to Gail Carriger, though not Steampunk.

Frederica by Georgette Heyer. One of Heyer's best, I think. Heyer wrote a fairly narrow set of types for her main characters, and both of the romantic leads here are ones I like, who are natural and immediate collaborators and challengers for each other, plus great siblings and a chase after an out-of-control hot air balloon.

Hallowe'en Party by Agatha Christie, who only wrote books I've thought were great so far. This is a 1969 Hercule Poirot and Ariadne Oliver about the suburban murder of a 13 year old, preoccupied with generation gaps and 60s panics about the still fairly new concept of teenagers, ranging from marijuana and early computer technology to sex abuse and suicide. Great insights on the things people blame violent crime on because they don't want to consider malice, and lovely imagery about a famous garden designer's work. It's been adapted by Branagh as Death in Venice, and I'm very puzzled how they got from A to B. Don't pick this up expecting the vibe of that trailer. Do pick it up.

Thinking about young teens and murder brought me back to the Wells and Wong mysteries, an excellent recent middle grade series I started in the fall to surprise a friend with a treat for the Yuletide fic exchange. The second book is Poison is Not Polite in the US, originally Arsenic for Tea--you might want to look for author Robin Stevens instead of futzing around with varying titles to see whether you can borrow this series yourself. Anyway, both books so far are really strong, with cases that have enough subtlety and meat for me as an adult reader, and excellent writing on mystery tropes, race and class, and the particular frustrations of being about 13 years old. I'm deeply invested in Hazel and Daisy, and I loved this take on a classic house party case.

[keyofjetwolf]

Or, rephrased:

[polythremed]

wheres the essay op i want whitsun bugs

there might not have been an essay before, but there is now! bugs and inverts are hugely overlooked. however, the victorians loved insects! they were huge inspirations in art, shells were used in fashion, so what would be more vogue than a giant bug for a pet?

(Punch, September 29, 1877)

the bulk of this talk will be under the cut but tl;dr is that arachnids still offer a lot of potential, beetles and moths live in the neath and were popular at the time, and there are a lot of lesser-known bugs that fit fallen london

also cw for bug images because there’s a lot of them beyond here, this is for people with good taste only

firstly: arachnids

FL has a lot of arachnids and this year’s whitsun saw the introduction of a squirrel with a scorpion tail! i think it’s a fun design personally, but arachnid companions are Not obsolete. the most relevant arachnids are crabs, and crabs are more varied than you might think!

(image by abc.net.au)

the yeti crab was the first crab to come to mind, related to hermit crabs and living in hydrothermal vents in the deep ocean. it means we’ve got another underground beast, and could you imagine this as a spired crab? it could be the product of shapeling arts, and the yeti crab’s famously hairy arms have the potential to be used as arm warmers or 1890s uggs for the discerning londoner!

there’s also the japanese giant spider crab, which might be more lanky than it’s neathy angler crab cousins, but look at those legs! how big do you think it is? how about taller than the average person?

you have to understand how badly i want to be this man they also inhabit vents near the bottom of the ocean (the crabs, not this man), they’re omnivores and one specimen’s measured in at 3.8 metres (12ft) across its outstretched legs! it’d probably be a dreaded companion by the sheer size of it, but imagine the walking sticks you could get from those legs

arrowhead crabs and horseshoe crabs are also runners up for this!

mites also came to mind, being small arachnids- the mite above is an adult female tea mite, and not much is known about mites! they’re primitive but have a terrible reputation, and FBG have shone the spotlight on other unloved creatures in the past. there’s also Caveat Emptor which tells us that the bazaar has parasites which are probably like mites? you could have your own romance vampire, surely nothing could go wrong

and if you’ve come here for spiders, how about the pelican spider? with a pelican-like head, pelican spiders prey exclusively on other spiders! isn’t that a fun way to counter sorrow spider infestations? introducing new species is a good thing, right?

higher tiers of this companion could start to own the whole pelican thing. i’ve seen monster designs of spiders with human heads but never a spider with a pelican head!

(image by me)

all he needs is some love and spiders

close arachnid contenders that i want to mention before this whole post is made up of eight-legged companions: camel spiders, harvestmen, and whip scorpions!

secondly: beetles

as john b. s. haldane once said, “god has an inordinate fondness for beetles”. and he’s right because there are more known species of beetle than types of mammal

in fact, the victorians fucking loved beetles (and butterflies but we’ll get to that)

we have phosphorescent scarabs as luminosity items and a few mentions of beetles in airs texts and in sunless sea, the latter where a beetle has been eating through your ship’s supplies. being from england, i have a vague idea of what sort of beetles would end up in london!

there are still stag beetles, rove beetles, and even cardinal beetles, but these by themselves might feel pretty basic. they’d be good t1 companions, but why not have a companion that’s a whole insect keeping setup? there’s even some colourful beauties like the scarlet malachite beetle which are now incredibly endangered

but if you want something Huge and Large and easily convertible into a fashion accessory, hercules beetles have a lot of potential! horns that can be used for knives in dockside brawls, or you could take most of the bug features and place them on a furry animal like a guinea pig since seas already gave us the guinea page

these beetles could also add diversity for the phosphorescent scarabs- and speaking of phosphorescent beetles, why not look to fireflies? they aren’t fire and nor are they flies, but to carry on with FBG’s habit of “slapping animals together to see what happens”, you could easily make something with the features of a firefly larvae

or you could take the even more interesting approach of having a grub the size of a cat, for example. hercules beetles have some of the largest larvae and the feast of the rose gave us maggots, so why not have one of these babies but the size of a cat? and glowing? they’re a possible light source that might make you more bizarre or respectable

a close runner up that i wanted to mention was diving beetles and how freaky they can get if they’ve adapted to the zee but the sabretooth longhorn beetle is going to close this segment as an embodiment of a dangerous and respectable companion- it already looks like it’s been carved out of wood! i think a carved polythreme beetle would be incredible

(see also: bombardier beetles, weevils, oil beetles, tiger beetles, harlequin beetles, trilobite beetles, and giraffe weevils!)

moths, and less commonly found underground, butterflies

another love of the victorians: butterflies!

butterflies are basically moths by a different name (there are way more moths than butterflies) and we do have canon dreams where a frostmoth the size of your head appears in your window, and wouldn’t that be useful for hunting in parabola? much like the beetles, there’s a lot of diversity that can be explored especially if we add shapeling arts

white plume moths are also found in the UK and just look at those wings

we can have a usual approach of adding the wings to something else, like a particularly unlucky bat, or just have something bizarre with the moth itself! more eyes? more eyes has been a common theme lately, or you can combine an insect with an arachnid and give it whip scorpion hands

these wings would be one hell of a decoration because white plume moths are considered to be micromoths

on the other end of the spectrum and taking the role of a respectable companion, the white witch moth is considered to be one of the largest insects on earth because of its wingspan! maybe they’re a more risky cousin of the frostmoth, maybe you could turn the markings on these wings into shifting sigils? don’t set your moths on fire

(image by Acrocynus)

white witch moths themselves have a lot of diversity while cup moths are another contender for an animal you could combine with another animal

(image by itchydogimages)

why not add the tail of a squirrel to this one? or a scorpion’s tail? a lion? with enough of these, you could end up with a very striking tawny coat. this thing is the embodiment of being neathproofed. even if they’re opposites of frostmoths and are associated with embers because of it, or if the tail is closer to being a candle!

moths are also good at mimicking in order to defend themselves, which is why you see so many moths and butterflies with eye patterns on their wings. birds hate eyes so much so there’s room for some real eyes on your brand new butterfly or moth companion

but some moths also mimic snakes, so for any fingerking fans out there: behold the atlas moth

this is such a mithridacy companion. can you imagine the t3 version of this where the snake heads are alive? we have a two-headed terror bird, so why not snakes on a moth? there’s even jokes to be made about one head telling truths and another telling lies, maybe the only head that could tell you the difference is the moths!

for butterflies themselves, we have butterflies that drink the tears of alligators and tortoises- so melancholy butterflies that only appear to feed on lacre? (and they might not be butterflies down here, you might’ve already mistaken a day-flying moth for a butterfly, not that the difference matters for much in the neath)

another strong mention is vampire moths if we’re carrying on the theme of insects drinking odd things, but a vampire moth with bat wings could be wonderful at ruining the lives of taxonomists

luna moths are also massive and could be more fitting now that we know who the creditor is, and that whitsun is talking so much about the bazaar and the masters

other lesser-known but interesting insects

we don’t entirely need to cover bees and wasps but it would be nice to have a piece of media showing wasps in a way that doesn’t present them as evil, but wasps could wait until hell is really significant again since wasps and bees are incredibly cool cousins. and thread waisted wasps!

(image by Bev Wigney)

get a load of that! these don’t even have the ability to sting humans, what would a thread waisted wasp-themed spindlewolf look like? how much shadowy with something with these colours give you? imagine the corsets inspired by these things

assassin bugs are another dangerous option considering how good they are at hunting other insects, and the neath wouldn’t be complete without more creatures that burrow underground and can find themselves in this weird cavern

(image by Fir0002)

their forearms are specifically developed to dig! perhaps they can dig through a rival’s belongings, or perhaps you can fashion their claws into brass knuckles or a belt buckle?

(image by faraaz abdool)

another fashionable, lesser-known invert is the velvet worm! we have plenty of slugs in fallen london, but you know what they’re lacking? legs

about 200 species of velvet worms have been described and they’re already quite rare! they all fall under the onychophora name and there isn’t anything else like them. you could easily have some persuasive with this, or if you turn it into a stole that can hold however many hands you want!

(image by docj96)

also, thrips! i found out about these today and apparently you’re likely to hear about them if you’re into gardening. sometimes they have crab claws for forelegs, so hey- more bazaar similarities! they have an interesting method of flight (clapping their wings together) but this might not bee too impactful unless you want a novel way to raise your investigating

flies are also criminally underrated, but i couldn’t tell you how many flies live in fallen london. stalk-eyed flies, however, are gorgeous things that would work so well as t2 companions! you could even go all out with a horsefly taking on attributes of an actual horse

(image by minden pictures)

the stalk eyed fly sees you five minutes before you can see it

there are genuinely so many more that come to mind (even neathy types of mantis- orchid mantids that have adapted to blend in with mushrooms! imagine!) but a good way to finish this off is with a love story

there are centipedes who will guard and hold their young close to them! giant centipedes are protective mothers and you can get hundreds of companions in one- or perhaps just one companion who really misses her hundreds of kids. and they hold their eggs just as carefully whilst waiting for them to hatch!

isn’t that a good love story? there’s a lot you can combine this with, but i’ve spent most of today writing this one! do with these creatures what you will, i definitely enjoyed talking about neathy possibilities for insects!

(bogleech also has a fantastic article on insects that should be used as the basis for pokemon designs, if you want even more out there bugs be sure to look here)

[greateggcult]

my headcannon of the TMA character’s looks:

- Elias’s form in the time of the podcast is that of a 40 to 50 year old man who looks like he only eats saltines because all food is disgusting to him and he isn’t drinking enough water either. So, that whole vibe that people get of him being way older than he should be is brushed off as him living an unhealthy life style rather than him being a technically-immortal body snatcher. Only wears tacky  business suits.

- Martin looks like he could be a mall Santa when he gets older, very squishy and soft looking. He dresses kind of like if Mr.Rodgers gave out fashion advise, very comfy yet still professional when need be. People try to get him to go to a professional for a hair cut. Out of spite he cuts his own hair just to feel some control over his life. He is not good with scissors by you wouldn’t notice it at just a glance.

- Jon has the look of a man that is living mostly due to the existence of coffee. He’s multiple forms of tired. He would have been claimed by insomnia if the eye had not gotten to him first. naturally has very silky hair without need for much maintenance. Looks more fragile than he is. He dresses mainly like a sarcastic geeky colledge student that plays home-brew D&D with his buddies every second sunday, but also used to volunteer at the local library on Wednesdays just so he could get some god damn silence for once.

- Daisy looks like she would be a modern version of those girls in Victorian paintings with in the lush flower gardens with pastel dresses and big sunhats in the shade. She moves like she has a goal in mind, very smooth and deliberate. also could easily knock a person out with a single punch if she felt inclined to do so, and you wouldn’t question that she had the power to do so.

- Micheal moves somewhat fluidly almost like he could duck out of eye-shot at any moment. The face of a Cheshire cat playing with it’s pray. A lot of golden curly hail that flows unnaturally through the air like he is under water, but with no solid definition as if it’s the boarders of a flickering flame whisking off into nothing. The only time they really make eye contact is when you know you have fucked up. Wears a lot of tie-dye and neon rave gear, that would be painful to look at even without the magic of the distortion. There is a faint shimmering aura around them line a miss allined VHS tape or the rainbows of a migraine making it hard to focus, stinging the back of your head. Every movement leaves a momentary trail behind.

- Helen causes more of a depth perception effect, like putting on red-blue 3d glasses the wrong way. She has her hair pulled back into a clean bun most of the time. finer details are blurred like looking at her through a wall of tears while crying. She wears oddly colored and patterned suits that work really well on her even if disorienting. she uses high end make-up and does it well, also lots of glitter. She may have real estate sales person energy but her style is more manager of a modern art gallery, well put together.

[writer-rochelle]

Statesman: Ablaze  Ch.2: Off the Grid

(a/n: here is chapter 2 of the one thing im super frickin proud of. thank you @pomelloe-me​ for bullying me in our shared google doc to make sure i get things done. ily <3)

“Can you leave the window down? My car smells like fucking fried chicken, and while it may be your fave food it's not mine.” Alicia said, shutting her car engine off. Pom chuckled, obliging her friend’s request. Both women stretched, their joints popping, as they clambered out of the small car and started their walk up the small driveway. 

The Agents had opted to live as far away from the brewery as they could, wanting to make a safe and work free environment for them to escape to. It was a pale green  3 story victorian house with white accents, and a small front porch. Two white rocking chairs moved slightly in the wind, and a white porch swing on the far right end swayed with them. A black and white rip n dip doormat sat under a black double front door, the words "go away" floated next to a white cat flipping any visitors off. A purchase Pom had made while online shopping in the wee early hours of the night. One that Alicia and Dena had found rather hilarious and Carey had simply shaken her head. 

“I’m gonna murder your boyfriend, he’s as dumb as a fucking rock, I swear it!” Alicia exclaimed, walking towards the front door of the shared home, twisting her head this way and that in a vain attempt to pop her still stiff neck.  She could hear Pom curse at her under her breath. “What was that? Use your words miss ma’am” Alicia teased, knowing Tequila was a nuisance for Pom. He had been Alicia's friend first, and one-day on a whim she had invited them to a carnival accompanying the rodeo that was in town. Soon, the three of them were inseparable. Tequila however soon developed feelings for Pom, his endless pining no secret to anyone. The ex-rodeo clown meant well, and when he wasn't trying to convince the southern beauty to go two-stepping with him, the two got along very well. 

“I said he ain’t my fuckin’ boyfriend,” Pom responded, she was frustrated but smiled all the same. She reciprocated the crush but put her job as a Statesman agent first. She refused to let anyone or anything jeopardize her career. The brunette removed the brown cowboy hat sitting on her head, using it to fan herself in the heat, waiting for Alicia to unlock the front door. 

“Whatever you say!” Alicia sang, throwing the door open. Pom followed the woman into the entryway, shutting and locking the door behind her. The smell of delicious food wafted towards where the two girls stood, as they began dispensing the arsenal of personal weapons they had into their designated shelves in the entryway. Pom hung her hat on the hook on the wall next to the door. Alicia groaned, taking her box braids out of the ponytail she had forced them into, massaging her scalp. 

"I don't know how you can stand having those things pulled back like that!" Pom said, emptying her pistols before placing them back in their holsters. 

"Trust me, one I'm gonna shave my head, and I only kept them in because I spent so much on them for that one assignment. Why waste money? Carey Ann, is that your cooking I smell?" Alicia called, making her way further into the house. She paused a moment, kicking her shoes off in the mudroom off to the left. 

“Yup! I’m in the kitchen, y’all! Make sure you leave your shoes in that mudroom, I just swept!”’ Carey called out to them from the direction of the kitchen. 

Whatever she had been making since she had come home had made the house warm and cozy, the warmth of the oven lightly combating the aircon. Carey was the oldest of the four women living in that house. She had recently moved to New York, assisting Agent Whiskey in running the New York office. Occasionally, she would return to their humble abode in Kentucky. Most household responsibilities fell on her, their other roommate Dena had been away for almost a year on assignment in Europe seeking out an alleged brother agency. Usually, Pom and Alicia were left to their own devices, sticking to take-out orders, or the occasional soup and grilled cheese combo Alicia cooked up. It wasn't often Alicia or Pom cooked, let alone cleaned. It was nice to have their Agent Mom back in town.  

Pom hastily unzipped the sides of her boots, sliding them off to reveal her cute space patterned socks, ‘The best feeling ever is taking your shoes off after a fuckin’ long day of work.’ she thought to herself. Pom’s hair stuck up in odd angles, no secret the hat that had been resting on her head all day. She combed her fingers through it, the brown tresses fell to her shoulders in thick, uncontrollable waves. 

“It’s good to see you here, and not on a fucking screen, ma’am.” Alicia snooped through the pots on the stove, hungrily eyeing Carey’s homemade fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mac & cheese warming idly on the stove. Alicia only two kinds of southern cooking, her Grandma Beaulah's, and Carey's (a close second).  

"Yeah, bitch. I thought you might have forgotten about us.” Pom called out from the living room, where she had placed herself comfortably down on the couch, flicking through something on her phone. She sighed, still no response from Whiskey. Had she upset him without realizing it? ‘Fuckin’ Whiskey, I wish he could’ve told me instead of ignoring me like a dumbass.’ she thought, shutting off her phone and tossing it to the other end of the couch.

“Well, if y’all acted 24 and 25 years old and not little children, you wouldn’t need me to come home to cook and clean for y’all. Dena hasn’t even been here and she still keeps her room clean!” Carey teased, swatting Alicia’s hands away from the food. Even if she had been present, Dena and Carey were definitely the neatest of the four. Carey had tried in vain to get the other two younger women to help, even going so far as to leave everything to pile up. It had taken a roach crawling across Alicia's face one night in her sleep to finally get them to step up. Now they kept a chore list on a dry erase board in the laundry room, and the katsaridaphobic agent no longer left dirty dishes in her room. 

“Girl, they’re clean. And for the record, Pom and I do take care of ourselves! For example, I did all the laundry in the house and Pom got rid of that possum that was living in the roof. Perfectly responsible.” Alicia said smugly, giggling as Pom chimed in quietly from her spot on the couch about the ‘Cunt ass possum that tried to eat her fucking face even though she had given him a slice of ham as a fucking peace offering headass’. 

“Pom, why don’t you come join us instead of mumbling with your colorful vocabulary from the couch; the food is ready.” Carey laughed, shaking her head at her roommate's antics. She grabbed the rolls out the oven, before removing her apron and oven mitts. She moved to pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, and then stood back proudly to admire her work. Dinner was served. 

“You sound like my fuckin’ mom,” Pom uttered as she hoisted herself up from the couch, making her way into the kitchen to wash her hands. 

“I may as well be. But enough bickering, I missed y'all two!” Carey said, carrying her plate of food to the table where Alicia already sat eating. 

“I’m not really hankerin’ for anything, but thanks, Carey. I love you…fuck head.” Pom told Carey with her unique version of affection, leaning against the island in the kitchen and removing her rusty-colored jacket from her body. Pom's jokes and colorful nicknames were her own brand of love, and while it was offputting the first time she called you something like "hoe bag", you learned to acknowledge the underlying "I love you".  

“Well at least stay and sit with us, I’ve got something to tell y’all,” Carey said, patting the chair next to her. She needed to tell somebody about how she and Jack had recently started seeing each other. She figured he had already told Tequila, and felt justified in telling the girls. Pom sat down in the chair with a grunt after placing her jacket on the table. 

“Oh do tell, this wouldn’t happen to do with a certain mustached cowboy would it?” Alicia batted her eyelids, and suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. Pom knew exactly what this conversation was going to lead to. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she noticed every small exchange between Carey and Whiskey, it was just something she had an eye for. The two had known each other for over two years and had recently started to go out with each other seriously. It was a wonder they hadn't started fooling around sooner.

“W-well...about that” Carey giggled nervously, maybe she wouldn’t tell them after all. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Carey Ann! Are you fucking Ole Jack Daniels?!” Alicia exclaimed, pointing her fork accusingly at the shorter Agent. Pom couldn’t help herself from letting out a loud chuckle, moving her long legs to sit cross-legged on the chair. 

“Alright, fine. Whiskey and I may or may not have been seeing each other exclusively for the past year while I’ve been back and forth from New York.” Carey said, casually taking a sip from her glass of tea, the clinking ice cubes being the only sound for a brief moment. 

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Agent Rum pronounced with great amusement, looking over at Carey with a menacing smile. 

“YAS BITCH, OH MY GOD! Tell us everything, and I do mean everything!” Alicia said, standing up and playfully pulling Carey into a noogie. 

The girls laughed, Carey pushed Alicia back into her chair before smoothing out her blonde curly hair. Carey was glad that the girls hadn’t reacted negatively like she thought they would. She had missed this comradery with the girls while staying in New York; she leaned forward fully retelling everything that had been happening. It was nice to finally be home. 

* * * * * 

Pom Graham was awake earlier than the rest of her housemates, as usual. Most nights she would stay up until midnight listening to her favorite kinds of music and trying to gain motivation to do her beloved hobby of painting. But she never slept for long as her natural body clock woke her up just a few short hours after she fell asleep. Still, she was always filled with so much energy. 

Pom tip-toed out of her room and down the flight of stairs in hopes of not waking her friends. She was already dressed in her usual outfit that the others rarely saw her out of. The living space downstairs was decorated with rustic, but comfortable furniture and pots of greenery scattered around. Photographs and posters could be found on the walls. 

She threw herself on to the couch in front of the large, technologically advanced television. With a press of a button on the remote, the screen came to life with the morning news channel. ‘Boring.’ Pom thought, ‘Carey must have been watching it last.’

“The daughter of beloved Kentucky senator, Xavier Dobios, is still missing and it’s sending everybody into quite the state of distress…..” Said the monotone voice of the news reporter on the TV. Pom scoffed at his words. 

“Fuck off, ‘beloved my ass’” Pom returned in a sharp whisper, smiling with amusement. She clicked another button and the kid’s channel started to play. Pom never really liked to watch television, but when she did, she would always turn on the channel that entertained her most.

“Good morning, Pomegranate.” Came Carey’s sweet but groggy voice from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Carey was dressed in cute, pink pajamas and her hair was quite the mess. She let out a big yawn. 

“Mornin’, you’re up early,” Pom responded, turning her head to give Carey a nice smile. Carey walked back into the kitchen to start preparing coffee and breakfast for herself and her housemates. 

“What do you want for breakfast? And I know you don’t like coffee, so what do you want to drink?” Carey asked from the kitchen to Pom. She sat there thinking for a moment before answering. 

“Peanut butter toast. And some water. Bless your heart, Carey.” Pom returned gently. Carey was surprised to see how calm she was. She was used to seeing the hot-tempered, mischievous, and swearing version of Pom. But she appreciated seeing this side to her too because Carey knew that’s who she really is. Pom never failed to make her laugh and smile. 

Carey made food and coffee with the sound of Pom watching the kid’s channel playing in the background. Alicia probably wasn’t going to be awake for a few more hours but Carey poured her a cup of warm coffee just in case. 

“I don’t know how you have so much energy all the time, Pom,” Carey said as she sat on the couch next to Pom, handing her the plate of peanut butter toast and a glass of water. She sipped on her own cup of coffee just the way she liked it. 

“I’ve consumed so much fuckin’ sugar in my life that I’m constantly on a sugar high.” Pom joked to her friend, smiling. Carey laughed, the sound mixing the soft sounds of the old Victorian settling over them. It wasn’t often they got a morning to themselves, and they knew they’d have to head to work soon, but for now, HQ could wait.

“GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” Alicia yelled, bounding in the kitchen shattering the quiet moment the girls had settled into with their breakfast. Carey and Pom sighed, watching as she effortlessly leaped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her gray sweatpants slung low on her hips, her lilac sleep shirt wrinkled, and her braids still wrapped up in the bonnet on her head; she looked crazy.

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?!” Carey said, standing up and rushing to try and push the taller woman off. 

“I have some good news, bitches! Dena’s coming home sooner than we thought!” Alicia was elated, it had been almost two months since Agent Sangria had been in contact with Statesman, and more importantly her roommates. She had been advised to keep all communications, few and far in between. Should there be a brother agency, it would be in Statesman's best interest to not alert them of their presence in their territory; what if they were a rogue organization? The return of the lively Latina was definitely a cause for celebration. 

“Wait, how do you know?” Carey asked, realizing that Alicia wasn’t budging off her pedestal. She looked over at Pom who looked just as puzzled as she was, no one had any recent contact with Dena. Everything had been dark. Pom got off the couch to get closer to them.  

“Well, as y’all know, I spend most of my free time in the lab with Ginger. And I was able to create a concealable communication device!” Alicia said proudly, taking what looked like a normal bottle of concealer. But the girls knew better, Alicia was a crazy tech wiz and inventor. Her and Ginger both could put Tony Stark to shame.

“How does that shit even work… it’s fuckin’ makeup.” Pom questioned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in the lab, or the last time she wore makeup. Pom would rather be training and being troublesome with the male agents than behind a vanity or in a lab coat. 

“Listen, I know it looks a little out of sorts but I promise it works! And the cosmetic part of the contraption is fully functional.” Alicia opened the packaging and did a swatch of the makeup on her arm. A perfect match.

“Say we can’t take any phones or even our glasses with us? Who’s gonna suspect a woman with a compact mirror and bottle of concealer? The idea is we use the idea of the fragile female that men have created against them. But my feminist spiel aside, I talked to Dena and she should be here by the end of next week!” Alicia got down from the counter, slipping her “concealer” into the front pocket of her black backpack. 

Pom leaned against the counter as she smiled, "You’re a genius.” She said to Alicia softly.

“I’m no Ginger Ale, but I try! Also, I’ve been making a bat prototype for you in the lab! I meant to surprise you for your birthday but I can’t wait any longer.” Pom smiled at this. Alicia started to continue but paused. The Statesman designated ringtone grew louder from where it was playing on their tv. Well, duty calls.

The three agents made their way into the living room, Carey grabbing the remote from its spot on the ottoman. Once they had all settled themselves on the comfy couch, she pressed the answer button. 

“Good morning, Angels!” Champagne greeted; the great window behind his head visible on the tv screen. It wasn’t uncommon for Champ to contact them while they were at home; saving more discreet missions for the four of them to take care of. It saved time, resources, and quite frankly more lives than if they were to send Whiskey, Tequila, or any of the other male agents instead. Hence the moniker, “Angels”.

“Good morning, Champ!” Alicia crowed, shifting to sling her legs across Pom and Carey’s laps making herself comfortable. Pom hastily grabbed Alicia’s feet from her lap and started to tickle them with no remorse, and her loud and mischievous laughs filled the room. 

“Would y’all stop? Jesus Christ.” Carey said, pushing Alicia’s legs off the couch and inserting herself between her and Pom. “Sorry, Champ, continue please!” Carey said, turning her attention back to the man on the screen. Pom was holding back her laughter as best as she could. 

“Well, when y’all are done horsing around, I have something for y’all to take care of. As you know, the senator is hiding his daughter trying to make it seem like she’s been kidnapped. Tonight, he is hosting a gala to impress some of the big wigs in the country and gain more support. I need y’all to infiltrate the gala and expose this sun’ a bitch before he can carry this tomfoolery on any longer.” 

“Do I gotta dress all fancy and shit?” Pom asked, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She had makeup, she hated dresses, and if she didn't hate her unruly hair getting in her face, she'd hate doing it too. 

“I would prefer it if you did. The senator is very conservative, and has a strict dress code for this event.” Champagne said. Pom sighed angrily at this. 

“Awe, c’mon, Pomegranate. I thought you liked playing dress up.” the screen expanded to show that none other than Agent Whiskey sat next to Champagne at the grand mahogany meeting room table. 

“Whiskey!” Pom exclaimed with joy. A big grin was on her face now. She tucked her messy waves of hair behind her ears. Pom could feel her heart racing with pure happiness. Whiskey was the closest thing she had to a father, and she practically glowed in his attention. 

“Howdy darlin’, you ready to join your old man on the dance floor?” Whiskey tipped his hat, grinning at the young agent. 

The adopted father and daughter duo were the best partnership to come out of Statesman; Whiskey having taken Pom under his wing, saying that he saw himself in her. A troubled girl who needed a little guidance and TLC, and had unfathomable potential. Whiskey had promised Pom’s mother that he would ensure that the young woman would be taken care of while she was in the states. A promise that had been well kept. 

“While I’m all for sappy reunions, I need you, girls, to get gussied up and make your way to that gala ASAP! I’m sending Whiskey to pick y’all up at 0800, We got a party to crash.” Champagne said, ending the video call. 

Alicia stood and looked at her phone, an invitation addressed to a Penelope Vontrapp, and associates lit up her screen. “Well Miss Pom, or should I say Miss Penelope; it looks like you get to play the part of the daughter of some rich oil tycoon.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not wearing any fuckin’ makeup!!” Pom said while jumping off the couch to sprint up to her room before the others could stop her. 

“YOU’RE LUCKY THEY’RE MAKING A BIG DONATION IN YOUR HONOR! OTHERWISE, I’D BE FORCING YOU INTO A DRESS AND PUTTING SOME BLUSH ON THOSE CHEEKS!” Alicia shouted up the stairs, knowing that Pom was going to put on the same suede pantsuit she wore to all Statesman functions. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone forced her into a dress, and Alicia knew better than to even try and wrestle her into one.  

“Will you curl my hair, please? May as well get some joy out of tonight.” Carey remarked, making her way up the stairs. Alicia noticed the sad air around her friend, she stopped reaching out to grab her friend's arm. 

“What’s wrong? You were all chipper early, now you’re all….” Alicia made a fart noise with her mouth, hoping it would bring a small smile to her Carey’s face. 

“It’s nothing, I promise. Just forget it, okay?” Carey pulled her arm away, continuing up the stairs. But it wasn’t really anything. Was it right for her to feel a little envious that Whiskey hadn’t acknowledged her? Had Champ told him something? Or was she just overthinking? Either way, they had a mission to focus on, and this worrying and pining could wait. 

(a/n: thank you all for reading and standing by while i get in the swing of things. i now have a masterlist, and post with who and what yall can request will be coming soon. <3 roach)

[wandering-jax]

Voo Doo Part 3

“This shit hole?” I asked while both Nik and I stared at the battered Victorian. The house would have been beautiful with the right care. A coat of paint. A nice sanding and stain of all the treasured wood that held up the wrap around porch. Yet … it was left to nature’s wrath. The same brutal Louisiana sun that beat down on my skin without remorse. Nik shrugged a nod. He had little to say from the Quarter to this stretch of nothing where he had dropped Madden off all those years ago. We discussed the terms for the exchange once more. I would turn over the house on Royal to Louis Parker in name and title and he would bring me way out toward the bayou. It was cut and dry. Nik was someone who minded his business. Normally I’d find that an admirable quality but now it annoyed me to no end. 

“Have at it, Boss.” Nik leaned back against the hood of his car with a smile that held secrets. Festering secrets that were also currency. 

He wanted me to react. Instead I ground my teeth and headed inside. It was unlocked. The floorboards below my feet cracked as if to announce me. A mouse scurried back to it’s hole. The air was stagnant and held the scent of smoke. A reminder of what happened here. The kitchen was empty. The fridge held things that should be in a science lab to cure cancer. 

The cabinets held only four glasses, three plates and mismatched bowls. Plastic cups from local restaurants. The sink was bone dry. When I pushed the faucet handle the water skipped a beat before spurting out. Unused. 

I passed a dining room and found myself at a crossroads. Up the stairs to what the second level held or the basement door which was flecked with soot all around the casing. My chest grew tight and I knew that upstairs held more for me than touring a burned out shell. 

There was a single window at the top of the stairs. Stained glass with an angel and a demon etched out. The wicked chasing the virtuous. The colors seemed to shift with each move I made past it, colliding on the aging wallpaper until they spilled into the first room. His room. I knew the moment I stepped inside. The bed was made. The closet with little to nothing inside. A faded KISS t-shirt barely clinging to a hanger. One tattered shoe. A few trinkets on the desk. Nothing of importance. Nothing to remind him of me.

“Where did you go, hmm?” I asked while I traced my fingers along the edge of the footboard. “And why …” The silence that echoed back sat heavy in my throat. Or perhaps that was the tears that would never be shed. “But we know why, don’t we.” A smile of sorts lifted my lips. “You weren’t meant for always. Accidentally mine. Purposefully yours.” I took in a deep breath in hopes of finding his scent. Just a speck of dust that was once part of him. Anything would have kept the canyon carved out in the very center of my chest from forming but there was nothing. Even the shirt haphazardly left behind only smelled of stale smoke. 

He burned it all away. 

The realization hit like a summer storm. 

All of my focus was downstairs now. Imagining all the dark things hidden behind the basement door. I passed the two celestial friends who were still playing cat and mouse on the colorful glass and stopped just short of the staircase. Another room. Another chance to find a speck of him. But this one held nothing but femininity. Lace and light purple colors everywhere. 

“And what is this?” I mused. 

Another closet standing open with empty hangers and it seemed obscene to leave it gaping like that. Closets were meant for hiding. To keep skeletons where they belong before they turned into armies hell bent on destroying the world. 

I used my foot to shut the old wooden door and took a step back to enjoy the slam that I knew was coming. But instead the latch clicked with a softness that only a heavy, solid door could allow. My brow shot up when a red lace dress made itself known. A surprise to both I and the delicate fabric that had been forgotten somehow.  It begged to be touched. It was much too perfect to be left alone in this dungeon of hurt feelings and mixed up souls. 

Familiarity struck when I was brought back to a chilly morning over a year ago. I was to meet Cain for the first time, my prized fighter, when his lovely partner showed up wearing this very dress. “How did you find your way here, hmm? A dress for a wedding, perhaps?”  I asked no one and everyone. I filed the alarming discovery somewhere I could find it at another time. A time when this version of me no longer existed and I could make sense of the twist fate had thrown me. 

By the time I left the house, without the tour below the creaky wooden floors, there was a finality settled in my bones. 

Nik was still there as if the thick summer sun hadn’t fucked him up the way it had me. Gracefully inhaling a sweet roll of tobacco. For a second I wondered how it would taste on his lips. On mine. 

No, Jax. 

“What did he do to the basement?” I asked. 

“Hmm?” Nik drawled. “Burned it is my guess.” 

A cruel smile met my gaze when I looked over at him. He knew. He knew exactly what went down here. 

“There is a dress upstairs. Fetch it and then burn the rest to the ground.” I nodded. “The signed paperwork is on its way via email.” 

By the time Nik was done staring at me over the dark pair of Ray-Bans his phone chirped. A notification of the email, I assumed. I scheduled one to be sent exactly three minutes ago. Goddamn swamp. It was an even exchange. To me at least. 

“Jax.” 

“Yes, Nik.” I smiled when a black SUV pulled up behind his own car. 

“Why is there an amendment for an infinite lease between you and Louis at the end of this? Did you put that little shit up to this? Goddamn it.” 

He was mad. 

Perfect. 

“The house in Louis Parker’s name. Which in turn gives it back to your family, Nik. Isn’t that what you wanted?” I waved a hand when the driver of the SUV stepped out to open the back door for me. “I kept up my end of the bargain. But you see, this city of yours? It’s calling to me. And I will see you again.”

“Bastard.” Nik snarled with a smile that let me know it was also meant as an endearment. “I’ll keep my word on my family name.” He one-finger-saluted. “Don’t come back soon.” 

It seemed neat. Tidy. I watched as Nik ran inside and with the speed that I’d never witnessed returned with the red dress. He handed it off to the driver and I climbed into the comfort of the AC filled SUV. Part of me wanted to watch. Part of me wanted to stop him and leave the memories and the ghost to linger. 

Burn it all. Madden had. It was my turn. Fire cleanses the soul or so those with one would say. 

Louis was waiting for me as he was told to be. There was another reason for me hiring the boy. Among his various talents, taking one hell of a lashing being my favorite so far, he could also wield a pair of shears and a trimmer that would put Vidal to shame.

He was set up in the back garden of his home. The one I now leased from him. What an odd feeling. The smug grin on his lips told me he knew that feeling well. 

“I’ll beat it out of you.” I teased. It only made his smile grow as well as the front of his loose linen shorts. Such filth. 

I made myself comfortable in the iron chair that would have to do. My return to Vegas would not include the inches of hair that had grown over the years. Louis ran his long finger into the golden strands for a few lingering minutes. Or maybe more. Cajun time seemed to do that. Go on for much longer than the standard sixty seconds. And I allowed it. 

“Are you sure Mr. Kingston?” Louis asked but didn’t really ask. And I didn’t answer. A sigh came from his pouty lips and he began. Snip. Cut. Snip. Cut. Over and over again until I let my mind wander to the impossible. The sun filtered over my closed lids and for a moment, albeit a brief one, I was on the balcony overlooking the Ionian sea. The deep blues and light turquoise that blended seamlessly. The pebbled coastline. The olive trees that stood guard just outside the front gate. 

Places, things, heartbreaks, lovers, enemies. They all come and go and not one is meant to hold onto for the rest of our days. 

“Sir.” I heard his voice. I smiled and a brighter smile reflected back at me. “Sir …” The sea dripped off his skin and trickled from his hair that had grown too long. “Sir, sir, sir …” It was me whispering the words back. The sea was gone and the smell of saltwater was replaced by that of lavender and mint. The air grew thick and hot, stuffing itself up my nose. 

“Sir.” 

“Yes, Louis?” I answered with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, I, um, we’re done.”

I shook my head and then placed a hand over the one Louis had put on my shoulder. He had roused me from whatever daydream I had succumbed to. I squeezed his long fingers and then let go. “Thank you, Louis.” 

 When I looked at the ground I saw the last of the blonde strands Louis had cut, a few almost silver, dance away in a rare New Orleans breeze and felt the heavy weight that had saddled my shoulders for the last three years go along with it. There were questions still to be answered. Answers I would find back home in Vegas. In my beloved dry desert. In the blinding lights. In the sin and debauchery that seemed to feed the very life that flowed through my veins. 

It was time. 

#VooDoo

[vagrantblvrd]

you mentioned an angstier version of your selkie au before. i'd love to see what you meant by that

!!! Okay, so.

I did some ~research into selkie lore while I was writing the first two chapters of The Manner of Things (...which I will get back to One Day, I swear) and came across this whole Thing about male selkies I’d never heard about before?

SO. The ~angsty version was going to be a play on that where Ryan had swung a favor or just me bending the rules a bit where Ryan was able to take on his human form for seven days every seven years. (Because handwavy plots reasons.)

In that time the main fic happens – Michael meets this idiot and doesn’t realize he’s a selkie and there are shenanigans in which Michael ~falls in love and vice versa. More shenanigans in which Adventure happens – typical FAHC AU shooty-shoots and car chases and other close calls and y’know, life-affirming kissing. (Gavin and Jeremy being giving Michael and Ryan shit/being suspicious of this asshole flirting with their BFF, that kind of thing.)

But then!

Ryan’s human!time is up and he has to leave and Michael is like “Wait, what?” because he was just starting to tolerate the asshole, really, and NOT feeling like his heart is being ripped in two and suchlike.

Ryan’s like, the first time in his life he regrets having to leave (idk, maybe he’s super Old or had some ~youthful indiscretions before Michael, I hadn’t quite figured it out.) and he gives him something to remember him by.

It’s kind of. He doesn’t tell Michael he’s got a Plan in case things don’t pan out, but he has a Plan. (Sea witches or regular witches, or something where he can take on his human form whenever, because handwavy plot reasons, idk.)

Jeremy is well aware Ryan has a Plan and keeps quiet because it’s risky and all that and goddamn Ryan’s an idiot, but he’s never seen him like this over anyone and he likes Michael and all that.

So, you know. Battle Buddies or whatever.

And then!

Michael doesn’t turn into a grieving widower after Ryan...leaves.

No, he just turns into a sad sack of shit who makes the mistake of letting Gavin call the shots for a while because he can’t be bothered to give a fuck. (Trusts Gavin not to get them into shit they can’t handle because he’s not that stupid.)

Oh, Michael makes a decent showing of being a functional human being for a while there. Takes jobs of his own and puts any fuckers looking to challenge his new-found reputation or give Gavin grief he doesn’t deserve, but other than that?

Cannot be fucking bothered.

And to Gavin’s credit, he does a stellar job of handling the rest for the two of them.

Picks and chooses the jobs they take on so they climb the ladder bit by bit until they get caught up in a mess not of their making.

Some assholes making a power grab and the two of them caught in the middle, meant to be scapegoats and they need to get out of Los Santos for a while.

So.

“You know, Michael,” Gavin says, bag of frozen peas doing fuck all as he holds it to the black eye he’s sure to have by now. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dan. Care to come with me?”

Like it’s any kind of question, and Michael’s heard a lot about Gavin’s Dan, so.

They go all the way to England while they want for things to cool down in Los Santos. (Michael gets the feeling Gavin’s got ulterior motives about heading there that has a lot to do with Michael’s sad sack life at the time, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither does Gavin.)

And anyway, anyway, Gavin’s been in the US for a while now, fucker deserves this.

Michael get to meet Dan and is honestly a little surprised to discover the asshole is exactly what he pictured whenever Gavin brought him up, told stories about him and the shit the two of them used to get into.

Big, lovable goofball with a startling love of explosives and the proper application of same, and Gavin laughs himself sick while Michael and Dan bond over this shared interest.

Dan is thrilled to teach Michael all about the shit he learned in the military, big boyish grin of delight when they go to some empty field or quarry to test something out. Helps pull Michael out of the funk he’s been in, laughing and giddy with excitement when the local authorities ccomes to check things out and they run the hell away like dumb kids.

Michael feels a little self-conscious when he shares the shit he picked up mostly through trial and error,   self-taught and all that, but Dan is just. He doesn’t judge Michael, even as he offers up a better way of doing a thing every so often, one that won’t (literally) blow up in Michael’s face if he gets the math wrong or whatever, and Michael relaxes when he realizes Dan isn’t like the assholes who taught Michael a few things about their ~craft way back in the day and they get along even better after that to Gavin’s satisfaction.

They’re staying at an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, something, something, something, belonged to Dan’s grandparents before they handed it over to him and moved to the city or somewhere that would be less work for them.

A fair amount of land to stretch out in, no neighbors close enough to worry about (most of) the commotion they’re making out there. (Gavin picking up sniping again - “It was a bit of a hobby,” he says, damn near hitting the center of the targets every fucking time. “Reckon it might come in handy one day.”Michael shrugs and takes his turn. Not as good as Gavin or Dan, but he gets better. Figures Gavin’s got a point about it coming in handy even if he is pretty shit at it. (He’s not, really, and both Gavin and Dan tell him so but he just shrugs it off so they let it go for the moment.)

Michael spends a lot of nights up on the roof of the farmhouse when he can’t sleep, gets used to the sight of Gavin or Dan or both of them climbing up there to join him. Sometimes they’ll bring a case of beer up with them and they’ll just.

Sit up there on the roof far enough away from all their troubles for them to matter, the sky spread out above them and enjoy the chance to not think for a little bit.

Eventually Dan heads out on a job, first sign their little vacation is winding down. (It’s been months, of course it is.)

Gavin gets the two of them a car, tells Michael it’s high time for a road trip and whatever else bullshit is  bouncing around in that head of his.

It’s a shitty little car that shudders alarmingly when they go over fifty and runs out of gas on them twice before they hit the ocean. This lonely strip of water on an empty beach, rocks and ocean spray and this tight feeling in Michael’s chest he doesn’t want to give name to.

Gavin putters about the little shack he rented for them, leaves Michael alone when he goes for a walks along the beach at sunrise and again as the sun’s setting. (Like some grieving widow from a Victorian romance novel waiting for her husband to return from the sea, and Michael hates that he does it, thinking about it like that, but doesn’t know how else he should think about it.)

Gavin never says a goddamned word about it, doesn’t raise an eyebrow when Michael comes back to their shack – it’s really more of a cottage, all nice and quaint and darling – after one his walks.

Sometimes he feels lighter after them, sometimes he’s dark and broody like a storm brewing off the coast.

And Gavin, alright.

Gavin just looks up from his laptop – keeping in touch with Dan, the million and one contacts he seems to have every-fucking-where or playing fucking Minesweeper, who the hell knows – and smiles at Michael.

Asks him what he wants to eat, like he’s going to cook anything himself.

Gavin’s not terrible in the kitchen, but he just kind of puts whatever together, and Michael knows, okay. Knows part of the reason Gavin asks is to annoy Michael into cooking for them, or at least supervise Gavin in the whole cooking endeavor so they don’t just have cold beans for dinner. (Again.)

(Sometimes dinner turns out inedible, sometimes Gavin can’t be bothered and canned beans are hard to fuck up unless you really try.)

Whatever.

Gavin offers to cook and he either makes them something halfway decent, or just the thought of it riles Michael up enough to do the cooking for them or have Gavin act as his assistant.

The rest of the time Gavin’s content to let Michael do his own thing, figure out his life on his own while he’s just.

Around.

Makes friends with the cats that run around – there are boats out here, fishermen and whatever else and cats seem to go along with that. (Michael loses track of how many cats Gavin befriends because there always seems to be a different one.)

He listens when Michael opens up a little, sits there with one of the dumb cats and listens without judging him. Chimes in with a word or two there, some dumb little joke or something quiet and heartfelt that chokes Michael up. Has him reaching out to pet the idiot cat rubbing up against his calf because he doesn’t have words to respond just yet.

They stay there in that little cottage for a while longer, until Michael gets his shit sorted out, finds his words.

He still goes for his walks, but they feel different, that heartache easing up with each one. Still there, but he can breathe around it now, thinks he’ll be okay. (Seven years, right? He can do that.)

Gavin gets word that things have settled down in Los Santos and mentions it to Michael, offhand little comment over dinner one night.

Doesn’t want to push, since Michael seems to be doing better, but Michael insisted he tell him whenever that happened when they set out on this vacation of their.

Michael thinks about it for a bit, goes out for one of his walks and stares out at the ocean for a long, long time.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, when heads back to the cottage. “It’s about time we went back.”

So they head back to Los Santos – stop in to say goodbye to Dan who’s back from his job first, though. (Have one hell of a sendoff the night before, because Dan got his hands on some grade A explosives and Michael is in heaven.)

When they get back to Los Santos Michael goes looking for his own jobs again, and Gavin goes back to being the piece of shit he loves to be. (To be fair, he never actually stopped, just. Something.)

A few months after they re-establish themselves in Los Santos an old friend of Gavin’s comes to town.

This asshole with a ridiculous mustache and this look in his eye that spells trouble – more so when he hires both of them for what has to the most goddamn ridiculous heist anyone’s ever thought of.

Twirls that mustache of his like an old-timey villain as he tells them he’s got beef with the Corpirate, came all the way to Los Santos to end it. (Brought his buddy Jack with him to boot.)Geoff tells them the Corpirate will never know what hit him, and given the absurd plan he lets them in on, he’s absolutely right.

Geoff does some recruiting, gets Ray on board and sweet-talks some lower level Roosters into moving out to Los Santos and it’s an ugly, messy affair, but by the end of it the Corpirate’s dead and they’re divvying up the loot they grabbed in the aftermath.

Michael’s checking out Geoff’s shiny new penthouse when Gavin calls him over.

The table he’s sitting at is covered in files and the like, Gavin’s old laptop whirring away as it does...something, Michael doesn’t know.

Michael’s instantly suspicious because Gavin has this look on his face like he’s expecting to get yelled at for something or other.

And Gavin, okay.

Slides this glossy glamour shot of an ocean front house. Big beautiful thing, classy as hell, and Michael thinks he recognizes the area. Somewhere outside Los Santos just off the coastal highway, maybe?

Gotta be worth a few million for the land alone, and Michael listens as Gavin launches into spiel like he’s trying to sell Michael on the place.

No need to worry about property tax with Gavin and Matt around, and anything else would more than be covered by Michael’s cut, not to mention all the godawful “art pieces” around the place he could sell off if he wanted. The cars in the garage that aren’t quite Michael’s taste but go with the beachside property and Gavin is really, really working hard to sell Michael on the place.

“Geoff gave us first pick,” Gavin says as he winds down on his sales pitch, nervous, twitchy little smile like he’s not sure if Michael’s going to be mad at him for meddling or whatever. “Figured you might be interested in this one?”

Michael’s hit with a sudden swell of affection for Gavin, this little idiot who waited until it was the two of  them in the penthouse to show him this.

“Yeah?” he asks and sits down and tugs the folder about the beach house closer and flips through it, flashing Gavin a smile that has the moron smiling back.

Michael’s not really processing the information in the file, a rundown of the property and amenities and the like, his attention keeps being drawn back to the photos included in the file. The glamour shot Gavin first showed him.

The house is on a gorgeous stretch of private beach. Remote enough he won’t have to worry about nosy neighbors. Fair distance from Los Santos, but they’re all set up for life after taking the Corpirate down and even though Geoff hinted at future heists, they’re a ways down the road.

And...if Michael's being honest with himself he’s tired of fighting to stay afloat in Los Santos. Tired of taking shitty jobs and working for assholes to get by, doesn’t feel that itch to prove himself the way he used to.Thinks it would be nice to just. To just be for a little while (Knows if he does get restless, Gavin will always have something for them to do.)

“Michael?”

Michael looks up, feeling too fucking vulnerable by far, but this is Gavin, and he’s always been safe.

“You sure you’re not interested in this place?” he asks, tries to make it a joke, but there’s too much want in him to pull it off effectively.

And Gavin, brash, reckless idiot Gavin laughs, this quiet little thing as he does something on his laptop.

“No,” he says, warm and fond. “Too peaceful for my tastes.”

Michael snorts, because he can see another glamour shot of some property by Gavin’s elbow. Shiny building down by Del Perro Pier and a little closer to Gavin’s speed than a remote beach house.

Looks back at the files in front of him, that stupid glamour shot and tries not to smile like an idiot as he pictures living there like it’s just that easy.

Hears the shutter sound of Gavin’s phone as the idiot snaps a picture of him and knows he failed on the not looking like an idiot part.

No worry though, because Gavin lets out this little yelp and laughs like an idiot when Michael tackles him trying to wrestle his phone away, and it’s good, it’s all good.

========

Geoff thinks Michael has a thing for the ocean and all things nautical when he finds out Michael claimed the beach house, and Michael doesn’t have the heart to tell him the reason behind his choice. (Guy just gets so excited they’ve got something in common that isn’t crime-related and he’d hate to break his heat. Plus, he’s not entirely wrong.)

Goes along with it when Geoff invites him out on the Corpirate’s old yacht to share stories and shit. Offers to teach Michael how to sail – the Corpirate left behind a lot of shit for them to claim, and the guy loves his boats and ships and whatever the fuck else.

Michael doesn’t quite have the knack for sailing, but Geoff’s patient and a decent teacher and with the way the guy plans heists there’s no knowing when all that information might come in handy. (And you know. He likes Geoff, doesn’t mind the chance to have some one-on-one time with his boss/friend.)

After he gets settled into the beach house he invites the others out for barbecues and other shindigs every so often. Nurses a beer while Geoff commandeers the grill as Jack fondly heckles him.

Chases that idiot Gavin along the beach and does his best to dodge after the fucker kicks water at Michael when he catches him staring out at the ocean a little long.

They get caught up in shoving matches. Try to dunk each other, dragging themselves up on the sand laughing like idiots and the last of the weight pressing down on Michael's chest left behind somewhere along the way.

Some time later Geoff announces another heist he has planned. Some bastard who gave the Roosters a run for their money back in the day with a grudge against Geoff. (Common theme that must have something to do with Geoff’s sparkling personality.)

Tells them he’s bringing in some hired muscle for it because they were spread too thin when they tackled the Corpirate and he’d rather they not have (quite so many) close calls this time around.

Michael doesn’t really think much of the whole hired muscle thing at the time, at least until the day he walks into the penthouse and Gavin is beside himself with nerves. Stupid fucking sunglasses on his face and this grin fighting to get out like he can’t decide if he wants to run and hide or fucking who knows anymore?

So, you know.

Michael’s understandably wary when he heads into the conference room since Geoff called him there to go over things for the heist and sees why Gavin’s freaking out.

“Oh, Michael,” Geoff says, little furrow between his eyes as he looks up from the conversation he’s having with one of the hired guns. “You’re early.”

Michael shrugs, attention all for the asshole in the skull mask and his buddy in eye-searing colors.

Pair of goddamn clowns, really.

“Gav said it was urgent,” he says, which is paraphrasing things a bit since Gavin’s text was a string of incomprehensible gibberish and a smiley face emoji tacked on for whatever reason.

Geoff nods like yes, okay, perfectly understandable, and Michael -

Michael stands still as the asshole in the mask and his brightly colored buddy go off to handle whatever  job Geoff has for them. (Heart doing fucking somersaults in his chest when the guy slants a look at him in passing, this slight hesitation before he leaves the room.)

“Michael?” Geoff asks warily, because yeah, yeah.

The fucking Vagabond and Rimmy Tim are back in town and are apparently working for the Fakes, no big deal.

========

The job Geoff has for Michael dovetails nicely into the job he sent the Vagabond and Rimmy Tim on and they end up down by the docks again.

Also, shot goes wrong in spectacular ways because not only is this Los Santos, but they’re all part of the Fake AH Crew by now and it’s almost a requirement.“Oh, hey,” Michael says, dragging Ryan out of the water, heart in his throat as the idiot pulls his mask off. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ryan grins up at him, the lines of his face paint starting to smudge, but something about it seems less angry than what Michael remembers, and maybe that means something.

“Hi, Michael.”

========

There’s a wooden pier on Michael’s property that goes out over the water and a perfect place to bask in the sun on a lazy day. Watch Ryan swim around, sleek form darting beneath the waves and playing peekaboo with curious dolphins and other sea life.

Fucker always, always has to be an asshole when he gets close to the pier and splash Michael, weird little laugh as he ducks under the water to avoid retaliation. When he pulls himself out of the water onto the pier next to Michael and shakes off excess water and he trades his seal form for his human one and lays down next to Michael.

“Hey, Michael,” Ryan says, soft and fond, sweet as anything and Michael’s heart too full for his chest as he leans over him for a kiss.

========

(Later on Ryan explains what the hell he was doing all this time – not quite seven years since they saw each other last, so Michael’s still having a little trouble processing the fact Ryan’s here and you know, human. (Looking.)Tells him all about (okay, mostly about because there are some details Michael’s better off not knowing, a few he can’t share with humans or there will be trouble, that kind of thing) his Quest to be able to take on his human form when he wants to.Bargains made, deals struck, that kind of thing. Tasks he was given to prove how serious he was about the whole deal because wow, not an easy thing to undertake? But he did it. Jeremy wasn’t there for all of it, but he knows how hard Ryan worked for it. Tells Michael he better fucking appreciate it like a good Battle Buddy, because someone has to make sure he knows and it sure hell won’t be lovesick idiot Ryan. And Michael is like. He gets it, and appreciates what Ryan did and Jeremy for sticking by him and it’s just. A lot, okay.And then you know, the Battle Buddies join the crew full time and it’s all chaotic shenanigans all over the place and all that.)

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ CUNK ON EVERYTHING / S –– Z always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

‘sausages are the only meat that can also be eaten by vegetarians.’

‘technically the sausage isn’t an animal, because it cannot feel pain.’

‘it’s impossible to make a sausage out of numbers.’

‘information comes into our bodies from outside and our brain analyses the information and turns it into understanding. or, if we’re hung over, it doesn’t bother doing that and instead sets off a load of sirens and alarms in our head.’

‘what are we meant to do about cups?’

‘bats have that sound thing that stops them bumping into caves.’

‘cats have a way of reading your magazine by sitting on it and absorbing the best bits through their arsehole.’

‘without our senses, human beings would be no better than bollards.’

‘sight is what boffins call using your eyes.’

‘i didn’t want to know that because now i’m scared spiders will crawl into it while i sleep.’

‘it’s handy that i’m the sort of person who sleeps with their eyes closed these days.’

‘dogs can smell loads better than humans, but only use it for evil.’

‘humans can feel a bit sick at a detail and depth that dogs and bats can only dream of.’

‘we invented corkscrew rollercoasters and jagerbombs to explore the very limits of feeling a bit sick.’

‘the sense of dread is another one that humans do best.’

‘don’t get me wrong, i like dogs, but they’re a bit of a one-sense-wonder.’

‘even though he’s been dead for thousands of years, we still talk about william shakespeare.’

‘a play was sort of film, but one you couldn’t pause unless you knew everyone in the cast and had a very loud voice.’

‘people in london only really liked beer and shouting and public hangings.’

‘they didn’t have guitars, they had moustaches.’

‘we don’t have exact figures, but his spending would suggest he was earning a shitload.’

‘dying on your birthday is a pisser for your family, who have to eat birthday cake with all tears in their eyes.’

‘we know it happened because a bystander took a painting of the event.’

‘thanks to sir george there are no dragons in england any more.’

‘the myth of the myth being nothing but a myth is nothing but a myth.’

‘inside everyone is another, scarier version of them, made out of bones.’

‘when skellingtons do a dance, you can hear xylophones. scientists still don’t know why.’

‘spotify won’t let you download crisps, even if you sign up for the premium account.’

‘some people say time is money. it isn’t, or coins would tick.’

‘is it a physical thing? is it alive? if it is alive, is it okay?’

‘the only thing we know for sure about time is that it’s slowly running out for us all.’

‘they’re like that, the french.’

‘hold onto your hats, especially if you’re a microscopic wizard.’

‘this is called dark maths.’

‘these days it’s hard to know what’s true and what isn’t.’

‘to this day, nobody knows what he was drinking.’

‘nobody knows how needy god is.’

‘are these trees real? are those trees real? what about love? or yorkshire pudding?’

‘what about me? how do i know if i’m real? for all i know, i might have been made up by someone for a laugh.’

‘when someone does an E then tells you you’re their best mate -- is that them lying or telling the truth?’

‘where does the truth go when it dies?’

‘in court, when you promise to tell the whole truth and all that, why do judges still dress like twats and nobody says?’

‘all americans have to carry at least one gun, and fire it into the air if a stranger comes into the saloon.’

‘they call their pavements ‘sidewalks’, which sort of sounds like a fun dance.’

‘no period in history has been so filled with knick-knacks. every victorian house was overflowing with shit.’

‘‘they were covered in spikes and liked to smash stuff, like sonic the hedgehog or keith from the prodigy.’

‘it was like inviting your burglar to move in upstairs.’

‘when exactly was it that viking women started singing opera in a metal bra until glasses exploded?’

‘sometimes, of course, the sky really loses its shit.’

‘for some reason you have to be highly qualified to get a job at the met office, even though it’s basically just guessing for a living.’

‘weeing is something we all prefer to do in private, except for men when they’re drunk.’

‘a fun mistake is to climb up a tree and wee down from there. i don’t recommend this, even if the bet reaches £10.’

‘history does not record what colour he actually painted his arse, if he painted it at all.’

‘nowadays you only see the bright colours of stained glass in traffic lights, a sad reminder that god is dead.’

‘it’s important to listen properly to the voice of young people, because if you don’t listen properly you can’t understand what the fuck they’re on about.’

‘the best definition of ‘young people’ is anyone whose date of birth makes you think ‘shit, i was drunk most of that year’.’

‘christians like turning up unannounced at front doors at all hours and trying it on to this day.’

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Gormless Ch. 5 - Try to kill my boss? Haha you kids are alright!

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband.  In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England.  Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag.  She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon.  He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok.  Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything.  Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government.  She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it.  Her husband is in charge of the Supernatrual Police (BUR) so he’s going to Scotland about it.

There’s a hot werewolf guy into Alexia called Channing and he’s a big jerk.  Ivy is getting married to some rich slub, even though she’s in wub with Maccon’s servant Tunstell.  Alexia just met a hot lesbian named LeFoux and wants to take her to visit her smart Vampire gay bestie Akeldama.

Chapter 5 – Try to kill my boss? Haha you kids are alright!

This chapter opens up with her seeing Lord Akeldama.  Basically they start by inviting Madame LeFoux and just catching up.  Turns out Akeldama has not seen the humanization phenomenon before even though he hella old, but his scouts discovered a military ship called the Spanker had people from the Kingair clan aboard who were humanized. We got similar info before, but there’s an implication that the humanization is traveling directly with the people of the Spanker.  There’s the implication that it’s moving north, and it has to do with the dead alpha thing.  

Something also of slight interest is that Akeldama tried to ~recruit~ Channing back when Channing was human. That Channing, so they say, used to be a charming sculptor and vampires and werewolves were fighting over him. That he went into the military/werewolfism cause it was more ~romantic.~ I think that’s all there just to put Channing back on the table as a love rival.

HE’S BAD RIGHT? BUT LIKE MAYBE NOT ALL BAD?

On one hand they’re fleshing him out.  On another hand it reeks of Marty-Stuing and it is not convincing me he deserves another chance.

Well what would make him desirable to you Faps?  Put him in an oversized sweater, with glasses, and he’s petting a cat?  

Okay okay!  My kink is valid and so is the kink for a man-child meathead okay.  I just wish my kink was more main-stream gosh.

So Madam LeFoux shows up and there is a brief bit of sassing between Akledama and her before Akeldama has to show off his aethographor.  They spend a lot of fucking time on this.  I guess this is for the folks into the steampunk aspect but like…I don’t really understand this appeal.  It basically boil down to it’s a telegraph machine but it prints letters onto metal with caustic chemicals. It has to be manned at all times, and some old ones need specific ~ Crystalline valve frequensors~ to communicate to one another but Akeldama’s LATEST EDITION doesn’t need it. I am a history nerd and reading about old machines is fascinating because you get to see how the machines have impacted the culture. I also like reading about Sci-Fi technology because either it’s cool to see what people decades ago thought was going to happen, or speculative future possibilities. In theory speculative fiction about an alternate universe’s history could be cool but this machine is just not that far removed from a telegraph machine and sounds like it’s a pain in the ass. But perhaps I’m just so spoiled by the fact that I could get a snapchat of a strange person’s butthole from Australia instantaneously without having to operate a machine the size of a room 24/7.  You have not truly enjoyed a stranger from down under’s…down under until you’ve seen it with the leopard ear snapchat filter!

Anyway he gives Alexia a ~ Crystalline valve frequensor~ with his frequency just in case.  She puts it in a pocket on her umbrella and it’s like DAMN GIRL WHY DIDN’T YOU LEAD WITH THE FACT THE THING HAS POCKETS? THAT’S WAY COOLER! (Even if impractical for regular umbrellas.)

The three of them part ways, Alexia is planning on taking a dirigible to Scotland in order to face this humanization and save her dumb-fuck husband.

Here we switch point of views to look through Lyall’s eyes. He’s tailing Alexia for reasons and some vampires are sneaking around Lord Akeldama’s place while she was visiting. The vamps almost attack Alexia but Lyall stops them with some pow pow action.  The vampires say they were just going to ~test~ Alexia and Lyall is just like haha that’s fine, go home you kids!  Also Alexia did not notice any of this.

I mean I’m kinda glad we had a bit o’ action but this was dumb. Lyall just lets these two jackoffs go after they tried to maybe kill/kidnap/whatever his master’s wife.  Also he doesn’t tell Alexia she was nearly attacked? Cause drama later on I guess? Fuck this writing!  I take back the nice things I said about Lyall!  Lyall instead just argues that Alexia shouldn’t go to Scotland. Sure Maccon relies heavily on his superpowers for everything, but not letting him know his powers are going to be suddenly taken away by a mysterious force which maybe out of his blood will definitely be fine. I guess because it’s now Lyall’s policy to make sure everybody around him, whom he attempts to protect with his life, is unaware of the danger around them. Cool, cool.

At least this time when Alexia badgers somebody about something she’s going to do, she’s right that it makes no sense why she shouldn’t. However she unwittingly has to take along a merry batch of fuckers. You’ll hear about them in a bit.

We have a big old scene where Alexia’s mother shows up and is like, “YOUR ONE SISTER IS GETTING MARRIED THE OTHER SISTER IS SO WRACKED WITH JEALOUSY SHE’S MAKING EVERYONE MISERABLE! YOU TAKE HER!”

Oh and there’s this inconsistent writing here where Alexia’s mother is passive aggressively racist toward werewolves and Scots. Yet at the same time there are lines about how pleased Alexia’s mother is that she married a Scottish werewolf.  There’s the direct line, “It was a constant source of amazement to Alexia that the only thing she had ever done in her entire life that pleased her mama was marry a werewolf.”  I think what the author is trying to say is that Alexia’s mom was happy that Alexia married a rich and powerful man, and LOOKS PAST the fact that he’s a werewolf but still kinda hates werewolves.  However they don’t bring up that her mom is impressed with all her money and power. They just keep saying WEREWOLF THIS and WEREWOLF THAT!  They made it unnecessarily muddled here and it’s confusing, annoying, and could have been easily fixed.

In Alexia mother’s defense the only thing I’ve seen Alexia do that’s pleased me, is hit that douche werewolf over the head a bunch.

So of course, Alexia’s mother won’t take no for an answer when it comes to her sister. Therefore Alexia is saddled with generic shallow, petty, bitch blonde sister #2.  Felicity, the blonde in question, agreed to this, despite hating her sister cause she knew her sister would be surrounded by hunky werewolves.  SHE GOTTA GET A HUSBAND NOW TOO! IT’S ALL US LADY FOLKS CARE ABOUT!  Due to English custom you can’t just leave your sister in your castle to have wild gangbangs with werewolves all day and night. But I mean, considering the amount of misogyny the 3rd in command is packing? Not leaving her alone there is probably a good idea. (Also I will puke blood if Felicity and Channing become an item.)

Ivy shows up at this time as well cause I mean…Ivy has always been sexually drawn to inconvenient timing.  Don’t kink-shame her!  When Ivy hears that Tunstell will be going on the Dirigible, she pouts until Alexia just let’s her go along too, cause HAHA WHY NOT AT THIS POINT!?

(A gif of Hillary Clinton laughing and throwing her hands up.)

So she’s taking Angelique (to dress her), Felicity (to be obnoxious in the bitchy way), Ivy (to be obnoxious in the ditsy way), and Tunstell (cause this 90lb actor will protect them all.)

OH BOY WE GOT A SMORGSEBORG OF IMPENDING WACKINESS TO CONTEND WITH!  IS THAT EXCITEMENT I HEAR OR THE CRACKING OF MY OWN GRINDING TEETH!?

Say something nice Faps:

Dang I’m having a hard time saying nice things here that aren’t simply just, “Well at least X didn’t happen!”

She uhhh tried to steampunk?

I get a masochistic tickle when Alexia’s family is around.  I dislike Alexia so I like seeing her insulted, but the cartoonish villainy of her family is hilarious to me.  It’s just so spot-on, the archetypal “BASIC SHALLOW BLONDE BITCH-SLUT TO MAKE PROTAG LOOK BETTER THAN ALL OTHER GIRLS!”  However I have yet to see an author fail so spectacularly at differentiating the evil girls from the protag. “I can’t believe all my family cares about is how they look, their social standing, and men!” Huffs Alexia, as she ponders her own romantic dalliances to the king of the Universe, in her new blue carriage dress, which has SHOOK the London fashion world to its VERY CORE!

[lushthemagicdragon]

Tagged by the wonderful @priestly​

Nickname: Miri. Has been for ages because I fucking hate my name. It’s a shortened version of it.

Zodiac: Virgo but I don’t believe in this shit. We make our own relationships with others & ourselves, and predetermination is a trap that keeps people from living.

Height: 5′8″

Last movie I saw: Last movie I actually watched? Moulin Rouge. Last movie I actually watched that I hadn’t seen before? Apostle which was absolute fucking garbage and I had to wash my pallet with The Terror. Last movie that was on while I was present? That shitty live action Scooby Doo from 2002. 

Favourite musician: Difficult. Very difficult. I could probably narrow it down to David Bowie, Placebo, or Florence & the Machine but I like so much different music. 

Song stuck in my head: Every Me and Every You by Placebo.

Do I get asks: Lol no but don’t let that stop you.

Other blogs: I am the elusive mod of @historythings​ but I’m really shit at keeping it updated regularly or even remotely cohesive.

Following: 785. I was sure it was going to be more than the amount of followers I have but apparently almost 900 people follow my dumb fucking ass. Wild. I’m not a reliable content maker why are y’all even here?

Favourite song: Nope too many. I’ll just name the first one that comes to mind. Without You I’m Nothing by Placebo & David Bowie. 

Amount of sleep: On a work day? 6-7 hours. On a weekend? Could be up to 12 hours I’m a cat. 

Lucky numbers: What’s a lucky number? 

What am I wearing: I changed out of my work clothes so a Super Soldier Fitness tanktop by UnicornEmpirePrints and black sweats. 

Dream job: I used to know but I don’t really anymore. What I would like  to be the most? A full time writer. What I would find the most fulfilling? Vet Nurse or Zookeeper or a uni professor or I don’t fucking know. I like animals and history and I like teaching.

Favourite food: Pizza and Sushi. All the pizza, all the sushi.

Instruments I play: I play the throat tubes if I’m in the shower sometimes.

Last book I read: Finally finished my Silmarillion reread and I started The Triumph of the Moon: a History of Modern Pagan Witchcraft by Ronald Hutton. Waiting for another one though that I want to start ASAP (Pleasure Bound: Victorian Sex Rebels and the New Eroticism by Deborah Lutz)

Last song I listened to: Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier

Random fact: Whales rise to the surface to mate and the male’s massive penis curves around like a tube to enter the female’s vagina. They gotta do this breaching the surface. I watched this once on an animal documentary and it haunts me. 

Describe yourself as an aesthetic object: An erotic sculpture of a young man in a cemetery, cracked and wearing away, covered in moss and vines, with a playful smile that never reaches it’s eyes cause it’s made of stone. Some punk teenager carved their name into his ass cheek ages ago. The curve of his arm is home to a spiderweb, the base is home to mice, and the corpse underneath isn’t quite yet down to the bone. The soil would be good for growing flowers in but no one has because it’s a goddamn grave plot. 

Tagging:okay okay okay @nellachronism @airspaniel @amberlyinviolet @meninagrauna @gaslightgallows but yanno do what you want

[raitrolling]

i fucked up and answered the wrong symbol but fuckit im still doing this

☾ - What was the first idea that inspired the creation of each of your trolls, and do they still embody that idea now?

listed in order of creation, and some of these answers are gonna get really fuckin long so prepare yourself for masses of textwalls

charon: ive gone over his history in this ask here, so tl;dr version: i wanted to make a light greenblood who was creepy and loved blood and fighting. thats it. why people like this guy even though his origin is literally being Edgy(tm) is beyond me. while blood and fighting are still his main interests, his creepiness is no longer being creepy for the sake of being ‘ooh hes so evil and InSaNe xD xD xD’ to actually having motivations and becoming a legitimate threat to others.

skathi: I DONT THINK IVE EVER ACTUALLY TALKED ABOUT OLD!SKATHI BEFORE SO ONLY FORMER MSPAF MEMBERS REMEMBER THAT DUMPSTER FIRE LMAO. but basically skathi’s original concept was vaguely inspired by The Importance of Being Earnest since i was studying that play at the time, but rather than being a british gentleman who invents an alternate identity as an excuse to fuck off to the country or invents a sick relative as an excuse to avoid boring social events, she was a lowblood posing as a highblood because people she fucked over burned down her hive. however that idea didnt work at all because she was complete shit at hiding her blood so that got scrapped, and shes been completely remade twice. now the only concepts that have stayed through the revamps is that she’s an axe-wielding Flarper who uses poisons and got her hive burned down.

cvetka: cvetka’s another character who’s been completely revamped and reset, but her concept hasnt really changed as much. originally she had chlorokinesis that went awry all the fuckin time because whatever man im 16 i can write whatever bullshit i want (aka no reason at all). also she was inspired by the Victorian Era + the language of flowers because i was studying that at the time (you will see this becomes a common thing). then i cant remember if it got confirmed in the comic or if it just because a commonly accepted headcanon on mspaf that highbloods didnt have psiionics at all (whats a vriska) so that got scrapped. then in her revamp she became a complete recluse because pacifism is a no-go on alternia, and while i find that shes become a much better written / well-thought out character as a result, my chances to rp her have become severely limited.

katrin: was my self-insert. originally she was painfully shy and couldnt really talk to anyone without get super embarrassed, and also she was an artist instead of a writer. then everything changed when the fire nation attacked she got a boyfriend. its kinda funny tho because she had no interest in working or getting rich until she met gerrel, yet she ended up on the complete opposite path to him by becoming a thief and running scams with her moirail at the time. then a shitload of events occurred (most of them retconned out of her backstory but their effects on her character still remain. also we dont talk about 90% of those events because i was a Bad Writer at the time and im embarrassed by everything and nearly anxiety-vomit whenever people go ‘hey remember this’ BYE) and we got the piece of shit raccoon thief we all know and love. also ive mentioned this heaps of times before but at one point she had robolimbs cuz both her arms got shot off but i retconned that to having the bullets graze her because i hated drawing her cybernetics lmao. the only things that’ve really stayed with her is that she’s still really awkward and a little shy, as well as still retaining a lot of my negative traits from her self-insert days.

viltau: ive also talked about vil’s history in another ask, but tl;dr wanted a Gatsby troll cuz i was studying the book at the time, ended up making an Edgelord. he’s still pretty gatsby-esque, being a rich guy who worked his way up to the top (tho nowhere near as drastically since he’s already a highblood) and throws a lot of parties, but since he’s a huge literature nerd now he’s a lot more self-aware and aims to purposely embody tropes from his favourite novels. i still like the idea of yellowblood!viltau (and his old sprites are adorable i mean look at him), but i have a lot more fun writing him as he is now. he’s almost a parody of himself, yet simultaneously played completely straight.

somerl: he was originally inspired from me going through my photo albums from times ive been to Hamilton Island on holiday, and in particular the one night i went on a cruise on The Banjo Paterson. i liked the idea of a cute sailor troll, and that was all he got characterwise. then, like katrin, he developed as a result of a bunch of events occurring to him and that’s how he gained a personality. he’s still a cute sailor troll, but now he’s a paranoid insomniac sailor troll with an obsession for superstitions and hatred for seadwellers and women. seadweller women are his worst nightmare.

dismas: his origin is actually kinda funny cuz i was watching this amv, and around about the time that Birthday Massacre song starts playing there’s this white-haired kid who appears and i thought he was the coolest thing ever. to this day i still have no clue who he is or what anime he’s from. also because it’s still 2011 and I Was A Teenage Edgelord i had an embarrassing obsession with Izaya from Durarara so of course dismas had to be an informant who fucks with everyone. originally he was yellow!viltau’s assistant who carried out all the shady jobs and was my go-to troll for killing off ocs i got bored of but they had history with other people’s trolls so i couldnt just get rid of them. then his original concept got combined with vil when i retconned vil into being an indigoblood. when i brought him back i kept the informant stuff and the Edgyness, but now he’s edgy to make fun of the fact he was a legitimate edgelord played 100% straight back in the day. also his roboarm switched sides because i forgot which arm he lost lmao.

aegiel: did a complete 180 in terms of character concept, and went through a bunch a revamps before i even started rping her. originally she was inspired by Hollywood Undead (particularly the song city), and was actually a super hemorebel who managed to escape capture and culling by having probability manipulating psiionics that ensured luck was always on her side. then i scrapped that entirely because at the time i was studying the Chinese revolution and the topic of the cultural revolution came up. so then her concept switched to being based on the Chinese Red Guards, as well as partially the Russian Cheka since i studied the Russian revolution the semester prior. I thought the concept of a super hemoloyal lowblood with a fanatical dedication to the Empire would be interesting, since most hemoloyalists tended to be highbloods. the only things thatve stayed from her original concept are her name and symbol, as well as her laughing quirk being a remnant of how her lusus was originally a cheshire cat.

aiolos: i dont really remember where his original concept came from, apart from i remember seeing a fanart of a 1920s style Scout from TF2 and liking the idea of a courier troll. i know i drew his original design in history class while watching Doctor Zhivago but i dont remember anything about that movie to know if that had any bearing on his character lmao. originally he was pretty rude and kinda sleazy, which ended up morphing into the sass you see today. he hasnt really changed much from his original concept, but its more that his character has grown over time.

kalpan: ok i have a confession to make. the reason why i made kal was because there were a shitload of anonbloods on mspaf that were either A. really bad at hiding their anonblood status, or B. were all almost always tyrianbloods in disguise who would pull rank every time someone gave them shit for being anon. and me, being the egotistical piece of shit i am, decided that i wanted to make a good anonblood. so kal’s blood was kept secret and she stayed out of trouble so that itd never get revealed, and her reasoning for being anonymous was just that she didnt really care my dude. she hasnt really strayed too far from her original concept, but rather expanded on the reason why shes so casually apathetic and gave her more of a backstory.

leithe: leithe’s original concept was something i dreamed up, no joke. from what i remember from the dream, i went to like a superhero school or something, and there was this one kid whose power was to cancel out other people’s powers so he’d be the one to save other kids when they lost control of their powers. his power also looked like a bubble that’d envelop himself and the other person whose powers he was cancelling out, so when i made him a fantroll that turned into an invisible field in which his psiionics were constantly active. and instead of being a hero, leithe was just an average dude who’d take up odd jobs here and there so he could have the skills to get a good job in the fleet. conceptwise he hasnt changed much, although hes become less tolerate of other lowbloods over time and he grew 500% more eyebrow.

pratap: was the first new troll i made after starting this blog. his first idea was a cute little seadweller who didnt really understand why other trolls were suspicious of him and his innocent offers to take them to his cafe for coffee. then shortly after making him, I studied Great Expectations in my uni literature class, and loved the idea of pratap getting a mentor who turns him from an innocent little kid to a typical shithead member of high society. that plot was going pretty well but fell through because of Reasons (read: i no longer associate with the other rper), so now he’s stuck in limbo characterwise but id love to pick it up again sometime.

errett: i say this every time i bring up errett’s history but haha remember when this guy was supposed to be cute. so errett was supposed to be in a group of trolls inspired by the four main elements from the game OFF., but pwo and i never got anyone to fill the spots for the elements of metal and plastic so it was just errett and his troll karnvr. and yeah, errett was supposed to be cute and his rudeness was meant to just be cutesy ‘ill puff up my cheeks and get angry and everyones gonna think im adorable’ but that got thrown out the window the moment i started rping him and he became a complete cunt. then we started thinking up a backstory for him and he became even more of a Bitter Angry Baby, so now the only elements that’ve really retained are his design and references to the game OFF..

sigrun: was inspired by those gifs of penguins falling over and the fact that i fucking love penguins and cry whenever i see cute penguin-related things. apart from being a bit more aggressive in their first draft, they havent changed much at all (probably because i never use them ever oops).

kisert: i have another confession to make. the reason why i made kisert was because i thought the whole ‘creepy little kid who talks to ghosts’ troll was overdone to hell and back so i wanted to make a parody of it by making a troll who pretends to be creepy and talks to ghosts to con people. he’s always been a massive childish brat, but his brattiness and childishness has gotten even more apparent over the years. tho at the same time, because those tendencies have been played up, he’s become a lot more emotionally stunted and stuck in the past as a result, which i think is more interesting than his original concept.

raesul: also hasn’t really changed from her original concept. i had the Danger Days album on repeat and really liked the idea of a hemorebel radio host, and so rae was born. she’s also partially inspired by Motorcity which i was watching at the time (and never finished oops), hence her radio station being called radio BRNR, after the Burners group. while rae was always supposed to be completely different from her miss summertime identity, the differences have become a lot more pronounced now that rae is super awkward and insecure while miss summertime is loud, proud, and always in control. also miss summertime’s wardrobe went from being super girly to more punk and rock-and-rock inspired, originally i wanted to avoid that because i thought itd be too cliche but then somewhere along the line i decided ‘lol fuck it’.

shirei: is based off the pokemon pangoro, cuz one of it’s pokedex entries states how its tough and aggressive but doesnt tolerate bullies, so i thought the idea of a tough but almost motherly gang leader would be neat. i was also watching Kill La Kill and Revolutionary Girl Utena at the time, so she gained some tomboyish but also princely/fairytale-esque qualities as a result. she hasnt changed much in terms of concept and ideas, but she kinda retroactively got inspired by quite a few of the Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure protagonists (particularly Jolyne and Giorno, but also a bit of Josuke) because they were kind of similar in concept.

redeti: was made as being a part of a group for trolls based on santa’s reindeer that i was doing with pwo. red is a combination of the ideas i had for Dasher and Vixen, and when i first designed him we joked that he looked like a lovechild between viltau and kitaer, so his interests became snowcones and murder to reference that. while he’s still a part of the Northern Lights crew with all the other reindeer inspired trolls we made, he’s become more detached from everyone else as a result of making friends with people outside the community. but in terms of original concept and ideas, he hasn’t really changed apart from probably becoming a lot more naive and dense over time.

fannar: is another troll from the Northern Lights crew, although they were made about a month after. they were kind of based off my idea for Donner, but also a mix between one of my older trolls i got rid of and my old Hetalia oc Antarctica. since they werent going to be a reindeer troll, i wanted them to be an outsider to the group, hence their polar bear lusus and their sickly constitution making it difficult for them to live in their current environment. originally they legitimately hated redeti’s guts and wanted him dead, but over time it’s become more of just a simple blackcrush that’s made them very protective of him.

nancor: ive mentioned this before, but his original concept came about because of this video and me deciding i really liked xatu. i had also seen The Book Thief recently, and loved the character of Death (i havent read the book yet tho dont judge me), so that’s where nan’s whole ‘pleasant but morbid angel of death’ came from. he’s also somewhat based on a couple characters from Hamatora (which is an alright series but the 2nd season is a complete dumpster fire and you should only watch if you want to watch a show fly so far off the rails it becomes hilarious), such as Ratio’s power requiring him to cover up his eye, and Moral’s design (as well as Izuru Kamukura from Danga Ronpa being another design insp). he’s always been kind of a silly character with his dumb puns and the fact that he walks around wearing a blindfold and fights with semaphore flags, but the more serious aspects of his personality didnt come in until much later.

eichio: another troll that started out as a huge fuckin joke, i saw this vine and wanted to make a troll who used noisemakers as their strife weapon. his mimicry and talent with musical instruments was just random brainstorming, and his whole ‘mimicking other trolls so he can learn how to act properly and pick up their behaviours to become likeable’ became a thing because i didnt know what personality or interests to give him. then i really started to explore the concept of a troll who has been raised to be nothing but the perfect people pleaser and even more perfect servant, and the effects that would have on someone’s mentality. he also developed an anxiety disorder cuz i got diagnosed with GAD and realised how much of myself id unintentionally put in him. its kinda amusing how a character who was originally supposed to just be a blank slate ended up so complex, but i really like how much hes grown as a concept.

davitt: dav was made for that meme that went around where you and a friend had to come up w. 2 ocs in secret and not reveal them until they were both done, and then you had to figure out how to ship them together, so i came up with him while pwo made walker. i was watching How To Get Away With Murder at the time, so i really liked the idea of a corrupt lawyer who used loopholes to get all his clients out of being found guilty, and was only in the job field for money and the fact it was really easy for a tealblood to become a Legislacerator. but, since im incapable of making trolls that arent also huge fuckin dorks, he was also a huge lazy piece of shit cat who hoarded random garbage and came up with dumb ways to be efficiently lazy. over time his corrupt and greedy ways have fallen to the wayside in favour of the more comically serious side to his personality, though they’re still slightly there since he is primarily a defense lawyer and we all know those types of lawyers are the devil.

ananta: ana is based off the game OneShot, which i played and fell in love with instantly. a lot of their concept stems from the game, ranging from superficial stuff such as their appearance resembling Niko and how their strife weapon is a lightbulb, but also the technical aspects of the game such as their unforgiving personality being a reference to how you only get one shot at the game, and their hobby as a hacker referencing how the game does shit to your computer as part of a puzzle. the resemblance was apparently so close that the creator of the game reblogged my concept art for ana, which im both still flattered and embarrassed about. like a lot of my recent characters, their core concept hasnt really changed, but rather ive focused a lot more on aspects of their personality like their extreme bitterness to hide their vulnerablity, and their loneliness as a result of the events in their life and the facade they put up.

soroll: is a literal meme. hes based off the ‘scream at own ass’ opossum meme, and is part of a group of meme animal trolls owned by pwo, who is also a huge memer. again his concept hasnt really changed since hes always been kinda dumb but with a huge heart, but over time hes become more of a mother hen type since he ended up unintentionally gravitating towards trolls who never took care of themselves so hed fuss over them. also i have no clue what happened to his quirk over time or even what accent its meant to resemble now lmao.

benrii: is based off Sanetoshi Watase from one of my favourite anime of all time, Mawaru Penguindrum. like ana, he’s not so much a direct rip of the character (apart from appearance) but more of an amalgamation of references to the series, so you have things like his obsession with fate mirroring the theme of the show, his apple bombs referencing the symbolism of apples that appears constantly, and the fact that he’s 9.5 sweeps refers to the 95 arc number in the show. also at one point i fell into a huge rabbit hole and ended up reading up about cults and biblical shit so that’s where his god complex came from. the whole ‘being addicted to praise and acting out for attention’ aspect of his personality didnt come about until much later, and thats now the dominant part of his character as a whole.

rosato: is another troll based on memes and joke posts on tumblr rifp, but this time its those posts on modern vampires and people not recognising they’re actually vampires and seeing things like their sudden aversion to the sun and garlic to just be weird coincidences. so then i came up with the idea of a forgetful rainbowdrinker who refused to believe theyre actually dead because they forgot how they got killed and assumes all the associated Weird Vampire Shit are just coincidences. he’s also got a shitload of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure references in him because this was around about the time i got into the series. after errett failed, rosato was my second attempt at making a shy and cute but kinda mean troll, but once again he ended up becoming a full-blown rude asshole.

zotick: i was reading Vento Aureo and thought ‘you know Gold Experience is a fuckin cool power, what if I tried to make it less OP and turn it into a fantroll’. thus, zot was born. like rosato, his design and personality are a bunch of references to Giorno, and his love of bugs/scorpions/lizards/etc came from the fact that whenever Gold Experience turned something into an animal, its always something gross and dangerous. like eichio, i couldnt decide on any interests so i took the cheater’s way out and made it that he got bored easily so he doesnt stick to any main hobbies apart from bugs and pranks. Over time, he became more obnoxious and annoying, which was mostly because every single bug-related post on this site i could find was a fuckin meme.

Indi and Kaiman: im putting these two together because i came up with their concepts at the same time. firstly, i wanted to make trolls who were interested in the paranormal and aliens and shit, and secondly, i wanted them to be not quite siblings but grew up so closely they could basically be considered the Alternian equivalent of brothers. They were supposed to look similar in appearance and clothing too, but when i drew my first concept of indi i really liked what i came up with but it didnt suit how i envisioned kai so they ended up becoming completely different. i also wanted indi to be the quiet one and kai to be the loud one, but then i liked the idea of them being completely conflicting in terms of first impressions and ‘real’ personality. while their concepts never strayed away from their original idea, they definitely became a lot more developed and evolved once i started talking about them to ez, who was designing mauban at the time. from their interactions with mau, indi became a lot more extroverted but also trusting and optimistic, whereas kai became more judgmental and standoffish than i had initially intended, which i thought was a neat contrast.

mikiel: he’s Ghiaccio from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. that’s it. character analysis over. ok i lied, but a lot of his character concept came from the fact that i really loved Ghiaccio’s design, personality, and powers, and really wanted to make a troll like that. funnily enough his gang affiliation is not a reference to Passione / La Squadra, but rather because i wanted to add more characters to the red scarves. the whole mutant thing is because i really wanted him to have psiionics but also wanted him to be a blueblood, and the fact that his powers are nigh uncontrollable is me reusing original!cve’s chlorokinesis idea, this time the reason being because his body cant handle an ability that supposed to be only seen in lowbloods rather than just Because Shut Up. he was actually supposed to be aggressive and Angry(tm) all the fuckin time, but after a while i considered that his life is actually really fuckin depressing so he gained ‘depression’ as his second emotion. now i try to focus more on his defeatist nature as opposed to anything else because otherwise he feels just kinda one-note.

aislin: is based on Alphys from Undertale, because i really like making characters based on my fav indie rpgs apparently. i got to that part in the game when you realise that alphys has been watching you from the very beginning, and thought a troll with surveillance-based psiionics would be a really neat concept over making Yet Another Geeky Scientist (although ais is interested in science to reference alphys, she just doesnt practice it). in terms of personality, she’s katrin 2.0, because as much as i love kat how she is right now, i really missed her adorably yet painfully shy personality that she used to have. i am also v. protective of ais and the types of trolls she interacts with because i refuse to have another Incident. so its more of a return to original concepts that earlier characters once embodied.

lanthi: came about because A. I was watching Owarimonogatari and i fuckin love Ougi and B. it was finally time for me to make a subjug. her chucklevoodoos are a play on the fact that Ougi is scarily good at prompting people into figuring out the exact answers they’re looking for, and especially in the Sodachi arcs how she was able to make Araragi remember everything about his past that he’d blocked out of his mind just by asking the right questions and the right time. for lanthi, i interpreted that as fabricating memories through suggestion, so her targets become more receptive to listening to her since they suddenly recall her as a familiar face they can trust. i havent really done much with her so i dont rly have anything to say, other than i still have no clue what the fuck she is.

velour: oh boy, velour. i had so many concepts for this fucker that it was hard for me to settle on one. along with being a celebrity fashion designer and vlogger who happens to be a lowkey con artist, other concepts i had in mind were a matchmaker, and a borderline yandere who uses his celebrity status to lure in targets to fall in love with him. i scrapped the latter two ideas (tho now the yandere thing gets referenced by the fact he gets fans paying him to act out their own weird celebrity stalker fantasies LMAO), and somehow managed to mash together all my concepts into an actual troll. he took the longest for me to figure out, and it wasnt until after i made liiore and gave him a past with him + mikiel where everything started to click, but now everything works and im super happy w. him.

liiore: was somewhat of an offshoot of my many velour concepts, since along with the celebrity idea i was also thinking of an ex-celebrity concept as well. also one night i was reading the PokeSpe page on Bulbapedia and it mentioned one of the main characters being an ex-celebrity who became a shut-in after he got too overwhelmed by the lifestyle, and i really liked that concept. so then liiore was born. he was also my 3rd attempt at making a cute shy boy character, except this time i nixed the ‘but also grumpy in a cute way’ so i wouldnt end up with Yet Another Errett or Rosato. now hes a huge dopey ball of adorable shyness.

daimon: so when i first played Awakening i made a Fire Emblem-inspired troll who didnt really click with me so i scrapped them almost immediately. then Fates came around and I fell in love with every single archer but especially Niles and Takumi, so i was like ‘yknow what lets try round 2 for an FE troll’. so dai is a mishmash of all the Fates archers (but Niles remained the main inspiration so that’s why his appearance and personality is closest to him), as well as kinda more Arthur than Setsuna simply because i thought a troll with impossibly bad lukc would be hilarious. and also hilariously tragic, hence his backstory. since i havent really rped him that much he hasnt really changed in concept, but he also became inspired by Jake Peralta from Brooklyn Nine-Nine after i started watching that and now i cannot unsee dai in jake help me.

callan: is based on a combination of ‘The Phantom Thief’ trope, Bungou Stray Dogs (particularly Dazai and Chuuya in terms of design), and the fact i was talking about my faceblindness issues with my parents and thought ‘hey a character who no one can remember what they look like would make a great thief’. and i was thinking about rosato’s backstory and really wanted to make an npc to fill in the gaps re: how he died but whoops i got attached to the concept and now ive got a legit troll on my hands. i was also thinking about how i have way too many pretty + well-dressed + cultured male trolls so i kinda made callan a different spin on my own predicability by making him look smart and cultured but really not giving a shit about anything of the sort. he loves the theatre but only if theyre musicals with a lot of comedy, he steals art and knows his art history but only so that he can definitely steal something of worth that isnt going to end up a forgery, he’s sharp dressed because it attracts attention given his caste, and he drinks beer because he looks like a guy who’d prefer wine.

[theda-rison]

Thursday Night Link Roundup - Yule Edition!

(Not on Thursday for obvious reasons.)

Hello denizens of the frigid times! (At least, if you’re in the Northern Hemisphere. If you’re in the global south, how about that heat, huh?)

It’s already snowed here once and you can color me pleased as a 6 year old with a snow day.

So, since it’s “that time of the year” I wanted to be a little thematically appropriate. Christmas isn’t my favorite holiday on account of my being an atheist and really hating the whole “Buy! Buy! Buy!” nature of the season. I would much rather do the Victorian thing of reading ghosts stories, which like, I would love to know how that got started. I’ve never been able to find anything to explain it.

But, there are a few things about the Xmas season I like, I like this vine:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M2AyO2c2Xtc

A classic.

In more serious fare, YouTube search “The Nutcracker New York City Ballet, 1993” and find the full version to watch. It gives me such nostalgia. I don’t want to link the version I like because it’s one of the few full uploads on YT and I don’t want the poster to be found out. But trust me, you’ll find it. (It’s the 1:24:38 long version).

And here’s probably my favorite Christmas song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCabI3MdV9g

You know it. I actually saw Trans-Siberian Orchestra in concert for one of their holiday concerts, and holy shit, we were so far away from the stage but I thought the pyrotechnics were going to burn my face off.

Speaking of nostalgia, maybe you’re nostalgic for the fireplace log that… whichever channel that is, plays all day on Christmas morning. Well, there’s a YouTube video for that:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_LUpnjgPso

Nice crackles. Feels good on the eardrums.

But maybe you’re like me, and you really want your Christmas to be scary! How about a giant cat to stalk you during the night on Christmas eve?

An interesting way to shore up the production of wool and the commitment to survival in the family home. Don’t wear old clothes, kids.

And here’s the myth, the man himself: Krampus:

I mean, how can you not love him. I love him so much I bought a reproduction of the metal bell from the 2015 Krampus movie.

Made by DarkMatterProps on etsy, but I just checked and it seems like they don’t make it anymore.

While it was a very silly movie, I adore it. The story was everything I want in a Christmas movie; being with the people you love is more important than material goods, but with a dysfunctional family and a horror twist. I loves the Krampus design they went with, and all his breathing and laughing and everything was voiced by one of my favorite voice actors, lol.

Love it. I would love to go to the parade in Austria one year.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mojrfw7SJ14

Or maybe… make a Krampus costume or a sculpture or something. Not like I need any more projects, lol.

If you’d like to know some of the background of Yule, here’s one of my favorite online educators, Jackson Crawford, with the history of Jól.

Balm for my nerd soul.

So like… I like decorations, but I absolutely abhor glitter. It’s like the fucking chickenpox, if it’s on one surface in your house it’s going to end up on every single other surface. Or it’s like… you know. Please wear a mask and stay six feet apart.

Anyway; hate glitter, like plants and things, so I like this video by Jutta Maria, of her making natural decorations for yule.

I made popcorn/cranberry/dried orange garland once when I was a kid and have been obsessed with them ever since. I want to make more but it’s a bit late for that now. Maybe next year. It’ll give me another reason to use my food dryer, lol.

This one gave me an interesting idea: I sort of want to make a bunch of these (not as spells, just greenery in glass Xmas balls) and then hang them from the ceiling or something in a conical shape to look like a tree. It’d be a very postmodern tree, lol, a critique of the notion of a Christmas tree itself; the greenery is not the tree but captured in small instances of green. And instead of decorations hung on a tree, the tree IS the decorations. I’m sure it would infuriate someone somewhere. And also: probably get destroyed by the cat.

But no glitter. I imagine myself to be a kind person but if you bring glitter into my house I will leave you out in the cold. Do not test me.

So yeah, happy whatever-wintery-holiday-you-celebrate, everybody! I hope you don’t fight with your family too much and you make at least a few happy memories despite these bleak times. I suppose that this year, more than any others in recent times, is a good time to remember that mid-winter celebrations are there to dull the sting of the winter cold (both literally and metaphorically) and remind us that spring will come again (though I can do without summer).

And please stay safe, stay six feet away, and wear your mask.

Or Krampus will drag you to hell and the Yule Cat will eat you.

[tessatechaitea]

Michael Cray #2

You can tell the twenty tens are better than the nineties because Wildstorm chose not to call this book Deathblow.

See? It has all the Steampunk components in probably the right percentages!

It turns out Michael Cray and his new Death Squad are just doing some virtual reality training. I guess since they're going up against Green Arrow, they're training with obsolete weapons against old fashioned foes. I hope Michael Cray has warned them about the boxing glove arrow. That's probably the main thing they should be concerned about. Also the arrow that turns into a net which nobody can ever get out of. I've never been caught in a net but I'm fairly certain I could extricate myself fairly quickly. I know I can get out from under a blanket in like ten seconds and what is a net except one of my blankets with less moth-eaten holes in it? Cray ditches his Death Squad because, like Deathstork, he prefers to work alone. Also like Deathstork, he has "death" in his super-person name. It's these kinds of observations that led professors in college to respond to my papers with praise like "Gee. You really read the shit out of this book, didn't you?" and "With every paper you turn in, my consternation toward the levels of your academic enthusiasm grows ever greater." Before Cray kills Green Arrow (look, this is only issue #2 of a twelve issue series. It's possible Green Arrow's murder is just the first story in a longer arc about Deathblow's new Wildstorm origin but I'm not getting my hopes up that I'll see Green Arrow's death any sooner than maybe Issue #11), he visits his doctor to find out if the thing in his brain is still killing him.

This is just the kind of existential and philosophical banter patients crave from their doctors when worried about their health.

After finding out he isn't in any danger from a brain tumor, Michael Cray rushes out to get kidnapped by Green Arrow to be hunted as the ultimate prey. I guess it's important to know you're healthy when going to your death. Ha ha! Just kidding! Michael Cray isn't going to die! His name is on the cover and the cover shows the story will go for twelve issues. It's more likely — and I don't mean to go on and on about how big my boner is for this event — Green Arrow will die! Cray wakes up in Green Arrow's hunting dome where Green Arrow has been watching him lie there unconscious. Green Arrow makes sure Cray knows that he's discovered that Cray is an assassin. He gives him a gun because some hunters like to hunt animals that can fight back, like other hunters and...well, that's the only example I could come up with. I mean, sure, sometimes hunters are killed by wild boar or some large predator they should never have been hunting in the first place, but that's not usually because the animal knew it was participating in a fight for survival. It's usually because the hunter fucked up in some arrogant way and the animal was all, "You kidding me? I'll fuck you up, you defenseless pink piece of shit!" And then right before the hunter is killed, he thinks, "I deserved to die like this!" Was that giving the hunter too much credit? Maybe the hunter's actual last thought was, "Oh no! Whoever finds my body will realize I shit myself!" Or maybe, "This isn't fair!" Or perhaps, "I regret not having beaten my loved ones more!" Michael Cray and Oliver Queen battle for a few pages until I finally get my wish. First, Cray disintegrates Green Arrow's right arm with his deathblow power. Then one of Michael Cray's coworkers (who isn't supposed to be coworking this event) shoots Oliver Queen through the head. And just like that, Green Arrow is dead. It's not as satisfying as I was hoping it would be. That's probably a good lesson for me to learn through literature. Now I know that I probably would be left unsatisfied and possibly live to regret killing the vet who euthanized my cat. Sure, sure. She had my blessing because he was in pain and just getting worse. But she still murdered him! I should probably let her out of the Death Dome now that I've learned my lesson. Now that Michael Cray has killed Green Arrow in just Issue #2, I guess I don't need to write a commentary on the next issue.

Oh fuck it. I guess I'll keep it up. I'm going to pretend that this is The Flash as written by Joshua Williamson! Just like I was pretending that the Green Arrow killed was the one written by J.T. Krul and Ann Nocenti and also the one from the television show!

[eliteweddingcoordination]

Mr. Demille, I’m Ready for My Glenn Close-Up: ‘Sunset Boulevard’ Opens on Broadway

Glenn Close at the press event for Andrew Lloyd Weber’s adaptation of Sunset Boulevard. Bruce Glikas

“So they were turning, after all—those cameras. Life, which can be strangely merciful, had taken pity on Norma Desmond. The dream she had clung to so desperately had enfolded her.”

–The late Joe Gillis narrating Norma Desmond’s mad staircase descent at the end of  Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard

Norma Desmond met the press the other day at her Palace (commonly known as The Palace at 47th and Seventh). Questions flying, cameras flashing—she loved it.

But then, what’s not to love? The cause for all this media commotion was her long-time-in-coming comeback—or rather, as she pointedly prefers, her “return—a return to the millions of people who’ve never forgiven me for deserting the screen.”

Actually, regardless of how offensive it may be to poor Norma’s super-sensitive sensibilities, comeback is the correct word—especially when referring to Glenn Close, the Tony-winning Desmond and, arguably, the greatest Desmond of all, who will commence a 16-week reprise of her 1994 triumph Feb. 9 in case you missed it.

Close’s objection is with the word “reprise,” and she speaks right up: “This time, my whole approach was that I didn’t want to go back to anything I did before. I came to it just thinking I’m not recreating. I’m exploring, starting from scratch. I’m 22 years older now. I’ve had 22 years more of craft and life. It’s bound to be a different take.

“Also, it’s a story that invites revisiting. It’s one of the greatest stories ever to come out of Hollywood—and certainly one of the greatest roles ever written for a woman, either on stage or in film. Playing this character takes everything. As cathartic as the story itself is—for any actor or actress in it, it’s also cathartic and, ultimately, very satisfying just to feel that all your creative muscles are being flexed while you do it.”

Close is 69 now and holding herself to seven performances a week. “We found out you can’t do eight performances a week of this role without getting sick. Anyone who has ever played this role will tell you it’s physically, and vocally, challenging.”

Those who saw her make her West End debut last spring as Norma at London’s English National Opera say that age makes La Desmond less monstrous and more vulnerable. “To the astonishment of us all, Glenn was even better than before,” declares Christopher Hampton, who co-wrote the show’s book and lyrics with Don Black. “She nailed it. I’ve seldom been in a theater where people got so excited.”

Michael Xavier, Siobhan Dillon and Fred Johanson, who co-starred with Close in that production, are making their Broadway debuts repeating their performances here.

Hampton was the first person to see a musical in Sunset Boulevard. When the English National Opera passed on it, he gave the idea to Andrew Lloyd Webber—mostly as a way of politely passing on doing the book for The Phantom of the Opera.

Last month Phantom started its 30th year at the Majestic as Broadway’s longest running show—so, when Sunset Boulevard opens tomorrow at the Palace, with Cats and School of Rock also in town, Lloyd Webber will be the second composer ever to have four shows running simultaneously on the Main Stem. The first was Richard Rodgers, who, in the summer of ’53, had four of his shows with Hammerstein going full blast on Broadway (South Pacific, The King and I, Me and Juliet and Oklahoma!).

The British composer is a bit embarrassed, and more than a little humbled, by that statistic. “I met Richard Rodgers very, very early on in my career,” he says. “To think that I got anywhere near what The Great Man did is really astonishing for me.”

Unlike Rodgers, who needed a show to focus on to access his melodic storehouse, Lloyd Webber claims he compulsively composes every day. “Melody is what I really believe in. Right now, I have in my drawer of melodies probably 20 that I’m really pleased with. It’s a hopeless waste and strain because I can’t find a subject I want to do as a show, which is dreadful for me, but I can’t help it. I just think in melodies.”

A 40-piece orchestra, uncommonly large for Broadway, should help to hold that melodic line. “This is really the esteemed English National Opera’s staged concert version of the show,” Lloyd Webber underlines. “Because of that, it’s very much more about the material than the actual performance, so, therefore, now it’s all about the music and the story—without the encumbrance of huge scenery.”

John Napier’s multi-ton, Tony-winning gilded staircase, which dominated Norma’s gothic-Victorian-baroque mansion in the original Sunset Boulevard, is a brain-burner for anyone who has seen it. It sometimes ascended so a party scene could be played on stage under it, and, during the shaky L.A. tryout, its revelers would break into collective cold sweats from the after-shocks that followed a big California quake.

“That went on for months,” Close recalls. “The suspended stage always moved a bit when the earth was still, but, after that, even little shakes got the adrenalin going.”

She may be glad to see that magnificent monstrosity go, but it has been replaced by many more stairs for her to scale. “It’s more abstract and more deconstructed than Napier’s gorgeous, hyper-realistic set,” points out the show’s director, Lonny Price.

Glenn Close and Andrew Lloyd Weber at a press event for his Broadway adaptation of Sunset Boulevard. Bruce Glikas

“The original set and production encouraged a kind of grandiosity and, I think Glenn would even say, a kind of grotesquerie. Now, it’s a middle-aged woman fighting for her life and her career. She’s eccentric, for sure, and she’s been hurt a lot, and she’s going to lose her mind, but she’s not there yet. We watch her incrementally lose it.”

Just prior to presenting his star to the press, Lloyd Webber gave Close’s arm an affectionate squeeze and whispered to her like an excited schoolboy, “We’re all here because of you.” Which was true, he admits, “What happened was that we had the opportunity to do it at the English National Opera, and they asked Glenn. She had never done it—or anything on stage—in London, so I think she was keen to do it.”

It may be remembered that Lloyd Webber hired his stateside Evita, Patti LuPone, to world-premiere Norma in London, with the promise of her repeating the role on Broadway, but, when he saw Close do Norma at the American premiere in Los Angeles, he decided to give her the Broadway shot instead, resulting in an extremely acrimonious lawsuit that wound up paying for LuPone’s swimming pool. In this year’s Tony race, LuPone has the edge (via her Helena Rubinstein in War Paint) over Close, who, for all her from-the-ground-up work on Norma, isn’t eligible for seconds.

“Glenn,” Lloyd Webber still insists, “is the best Norma Desmond that I’ve ever seen.”

“Glenn,” Lloyd Webber still insists, “is the best Norma Desmond that I’ve ever seen.” That may or may not include the original madwoman of Sunset Boulevard—Gloria Swanson in Billy Wilder’s 1950 film classic. A haughty beauty from Keystone Kops days, Swanson was not known to be much of an actress before—or after—Sunset Boulevard, but for this one film Wilder manipulated from her a great performance of a silent screen star whose career crashed and burned with the coming of sound.

It’s now hard to believe, but she was not the first, second or third choice for the role. Wilder’s first choice, Mae West, was insulted by the offer. His second—Pola Negri, a Polish actress who didn’t survive sound—still had an accent that would mangle Wilder witticisms. He even went to Pickfair to pitch the picture in person to No. 3, Mary Pickford, who reacted in such horror at the story he was telling he stopped. Greta Garbo and Norma Shearer were asked but wouldn’t budge out of retirement.

Swanson was the suggestion of George Cukor, who, ironically, would direct the one performance that would take the Academy Award away from not only Swanson’s Norma Desmond but also Bette Davis’ Margo Channing: Judy Holliday’s Billie Dawn.

A major plus about the Swanson casting was that she’d worked with director Erich von Stroheim, whom Wilder hired to play Norma’s first husband and lasting butler, Max von Mayerling. The film they did together for producer Joseph Kennedy, Queen Kelly, was never finished, but a clip of it flickers by in Norma’s home screening room.

The role of Joe Gillis, who draws very dubious double duty as Norma’s screenwriter and lover, also went through casting loop-de-loops. Montgomery Clift bolted two weeks before shooting was to begin because he thought the older woman-younger man relationship reflected on his real-life one with Libby Holman; Fred MacMurray disliked the gigolo aspects of the role; Marlon Brando was considered too much of an unknown to take a chance; MGM refused to loan out Gene Kelly, so Wilder had to settle for a Paramount contract player, William Holden, who came through big time.

Wilder and his longtime writing partner, Charles Brackett, almost came to blows over a montage showing what Norma goes through to look young for the cameras. They never made another movie together. It was their 13th collaboration, and it won them—and someone named D. M. Marshman Jr.—a Best Original Screenplay Oscar. Marshman was a poker crony of Wilder’s whose chief contribution was dreaming up the two-decade age gap between Norma and Joe and turning him into “a kept man.”

Fearing a negative reaction to the movie’s damning depiction of the film industry, the script was kept top secret and titled A Can of Beans while in production. That fear turned out to be real: At the movie’s splashy Hollywood premiere, a livid Louis B. Mayer caught up with Wilder and accused him of biting the hand that fed him.

Wilder, never one to be at a loss for a witty retort, shot back a terse “Fuck you!”

Source

http://observer.com/2017/02/glenn-close-sunset-boulevard-broadway-andrew-lloyd-weber-interview/

[dillaibtida]

Manager Lee

Seeing my favorite long-haired Adonis, Lee Hyun Jae, getting married at relatively young age and leading a real starting-from-scratch life with his wife kind of got me thinking.

Maybe in some cases, it does work.

Well, for some reason, it just does.

However, it can't be instant

One important fact I have found out about the couple is that, it takes a long process to really figure out someone we decide to spend our life with. Some sources said that they had known each other and become friends for about ten years. They dated for a year, then they got married. Hyun Jae was 28 at that time, relatively young for Korean age, especially since he hasn't enlisted for his military services. His wife was 27, quite young as well and just begun to raise as an actress.

They are just the perfect embodiment of one simple early-marriage life that I might have been unconsciously wishing for.  Not that they are both just too equally good looking to be together. Well maybe that helps. But what I meant is the process. The process on them becoming friends for years, and then dating only for a year. One year is enough for them to decide on getting married. Because they have known each other as friends for ten freaking years.

You see, I want that. I want that process.

So, the concept of instalove is just something I barely acknowledge as real right now. It's just a huge bullcrap. A delusion, if you will. Which is why everytime I got into an online dating site or some friends introduce me to some guy, I feel like there is a giant mountain laying on top of me. I swiped right or left, right or left, I talked nonsense, just to realize that I was suffocated. I barely answer any message or say hi to my matches because I feel so overwhelmed. I just don't think that is ever gonna work. I am absolutely not a good dating/girlfriend/wife material and it scared the fuck out of me. I might be a good friend, though. But, hello, grow up, dating site is definitely not for making friends. And friends fixing you up with some guy is not for you to befriend him either.

This is ridiculous, and I am exhausted.

Sometimes I feel like it's too late for my age. But still, I actually need more time to really get to know someone before making a huge-life changing decision. Nobody opens up on the first meeting. Everybody has an ugly secret. A baggage. A wound, disgusting scar. And I believe only a friend could ever understand that. Not a boyfriend or husband or, you know, the prospective version of those.

I don't want to put someone I will be spending my life with in pedestal. And I don't want him to do that to me either.

Back to Lee Hyun Jae and his wife.

I noticed his instagram lately, and didn't take that much thinking for me to follow him. Although he is not very popular in Korea, he makes quite a good shot in China. Both as an actor and model. While his music career, I believe, has been slipping away since he was busy doing other -more prospective, things.

The notion of friends-for-long before marriage has already got my eyes on him and Kim Yeol, his wife. But I fell deeper knowing that they are quite a power couple as well. A relatable power couple.

Okay, so we cannot really portray our real life on instagram. Instagram is basically our mundane life in technicolor. Brighter, richer, happier, simply just better. But from what I saw, from posts he uploaded carefreely into his account, I thought, damn, these are just too relatable. No muss no fuss. No endorse or display or tag of freaking branded stuffs. No excessive traveling photos or nudes or stupid selfies. They are just…real. Some real people who live their lives together, starting from scratch.

I found a post of his effort to furnish their new apartment (or house? Idk), using DIY method. For some reason, especially as a person who does not have a good eye for design, I think his effort is sweet and adorable. Rather than paying for someone to style the apartment, why not doing it ourselves and putting things we actually love?

https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQBK3IgM13/

So, there it goes from his celeb-ish photos to one quiet, simple, happy married life in the matter of weeks. Before then, it was only him. Doing photoshoots, interviews, selfies and stuff. But now it turns to more heartwarming posts such as a cute Victorian-style sofa. The process of refurnishing the house. Their adorable cats. One corner of their guest room. And how he helped his wife's business in fashion, so much so he called himself Manager Lee.

And his wife calls him that too, on her comments and her account.

SoadorableIcan'tpleasehelpIamdying.

The thing is that, he recognizes his wife's talent and drive to establish a business. He helped her with the photoshoots and grand opening. He promotes his wife's business on his SNS accounts. He gives up their living room for his wife's photo studio. I mean, for someone who has his own career, those are quite a selfless, loving effort.

I need that kind of compassion. That kind of sincere, unrelenting support and understanding. And not to mention, the same excitement over things that I love.  

I can't stress enough that I don't need another narrow minded person in my life who is so self-centered and hog the lights all on his own. Someone who thinks he is right all the time am I am the one who always messed up (I have my family for that, so I don't need my man to do their part). And I can't tell you enough that even the best, the deepest, feeling I have ever had for someone so far is simply because we shared the same interests and we continuously learn from each other.  I felt understood. I had this sense that I found a comrade. Someone who actually helped me get to another level. Someone who trusted me enough to establish something together. Someone I can fully trust with my dreams and desires without fear of being ridiculed. Someone who, in his way, is always there.

That's it.

Seeing the Adonis' relationship with his wife that they flaunt AFTER their marriage and not before, is just so adorable and heartwarming to watch. They don't do it like Glenn and Chelsea who practically are just overexposing their lives, all polished, constructed, and manufactured I won't ever believe those are real.

But my favorite couple, they do it just enough. They do that just enough to makes us think that, okay, so these couple are happy. But they are too busy living their real, happy, lives so they do not have time to upload photos every now and then.

Besides, it’s just simple, adorable, little things that they show off. Things that I might have been unconsciously wishing for but I always deny because I don't want to put any expectations and get hurt.

So after all that, honestly, I think I should reevaluate my bitter judgement on marriage.

Maybe not all marriage will end up a wreck. Maybe among those jerks, bigots, tools, pricks, narcissists, sociopaths, and misogynists, there is someone who is actually decent, compassionate, and understanding enough. Maybe I am the one who has to improve, from this bitter-insensitive asshole with resting bitch face to be more approachable and kind hearted to find that certain someone.

Or maybe I don't have to change at all. And neither does he. Because either way, we will be compassionate enough to understand and support each other.

I hope the last one is what's actually gonna happen.