#virgil cox

[soysaucevictim]

AH yes, recent emotional lability and hypogastric regional pain has it's explanation. And I managed to ping that as PMS shit, this time.

Chalk one more thing up to me being all kinds of exhausted. Head's aching too, lovely.

This shit just makes me think of Gymrat!Remus's issues.

(Mind, I don't got this as bad as that guy. But still... Nnng.)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

if you'd like to vote just based on that, go ahead, but I've also written longer descriptions for both projects under the cut :)

Slice of life QPR:

As October draws closer for Brighton City College, well-known for its wild parties and a love for all things Halloween, Hayden Cox and Riley Moore find themselves only half of a friend group as Greyson Stewart and Hazel Edwards aim to climb the ranks of the Halloween social ladder to join the legendary Hosts. But when the two of them discover they've got far more in common than just their friends, their Halloween becomes far less that of Brighton City legend, and something far more...them.

A fluffy, university slice-of-life story involving seasonal hijinks and not nearly enough candy! ~80k, working titles are:

Quite a Peculiar Romance (obvious play on Queer Platonic Relationship (QPR))

Spooked

A Brighton City Halloween

***

Gothic found family:

When the Lord of Crosswell Estate plans to wed his niece to a brutish lord to save his wealth, she runs away and stumbles upon Illthern, a forgotten trading village under the control of the monstrous Theodoric Gaut, whom she deceives in order to gain his protection from her wrathful uncle; but when she finds herself face to face with Lord Gaut, who is not what the stories would have her believe, she must wrestle with the monstrosity of her own making before he discovers that his supposed long-lost relative is not what she claims to be.

An inverted sort of Beauty-and-the-Beast that deals with the monstrosity of girlhood and the inherent horror of self-creation. ~170k, working titles are:

Of Beasts and Wretched Things

Shadowcraft

Aurora

If you'd like to add your two cents in about the titles for whichever you'd prefer to see first, feel free to leave it in the tags!

also i'm gonna put my taglist here just 'cause

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[eaglesnick]

“Whoever debases others is debasing himself.” - JAMES BALDWIN

Over half a century ago Enoch Powell made his infamous "Rivers of Blood" speech wherein he alluded to a prophecy from Virgil’s Aeneid:

“As I look ahead", said Powell,” I am filled with foreboding: like the Roman, I seem to see ‘the River Tiber foaming with much blood'." (Enoch Powell: 20/04/1968)

As with any prophecy, if you wait long enough, it’s almost bound to come true in one form or another. But rather than a “river of blood” caused by irresolvable racial tension, Britain has, in the main, weathered the social changes that mass migration brings with it.

In true dog whistling tradition Powell avoided being overtly racist himself but “quoted” a constituents instead, one who allegedly said:

"In this country in 15 or 20 years' time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man"

As we all know this simply did not happen. By 1988 it wasn’t the "black man" who was the enemy of ordinary working people, it was Margaret Thatcher and her Tory government.

 It was Thatcher who raised interest rates and imposed huge spending cuts on the public services ordinary working people depended on. It was the Tory Government that drove unemployment up to 3 million, and it was Powell’s Conservative’s who waged war on trade unions and workers rights. It was Thatcher who was responsible for the deep recession in the early 1980’s and it was Thatcher who, by selling off council houses, kick-started the market trend towards unaffordable rents and house prices we see today.

The last 14 years of Tory government has seen a continuation of Thatcherite policies: public services starved of funding, massive rises in interest rates leading to unaffordable mortgages and rents, rising unemployment, and the resulting cost of living crisis.

Like Powell before him, Nigel Farage likes to blame immigrants for the countries ills and like Powell he is no stranger to the political art of dog whistling.  Talking on TV about the Southport murders he asked the “innocent” question:

“Why is it these days whenever something happens, we are told almost immediately it's a non-terror attack?" (Farage: 01/08/24)

Linking the horrendous murder of children in Southport to other, totally unrelated murders elsewhere in the country, he then answered his own question.

“Whenever these things happen there is a reluctance to tell us the full truth.”

There is the dog whistle. The authorities are withholding the truth about murders committed by non-whites. They are, for some reason known only to them, protecting ethnic minority killers and in all likelihood these murders are terror related. If only the police and the authorities would tell us “the truth” then the subsequent extreme right-wing led riots could have been prevented.

“Sometimes just tell the public the truth and you might actually stop riots happening” (Farage:01/08/24)

Light all bigots – left or right – it is only their version of the "truth" that they are interested in. Using the death of three innocent children to advance your own political ambitions is beyond contempt. Brandon Cox, husband of Labour MP Joe Cox who was murdered in a right-wing terror attack, had the measure of Farage when he described him as:

“nothing better than Tommy Robinson in a suit”

Mass immigration does present many problems but they are not problems that will be solved by whipping up hatred and bloodshed on Britain’s Streets. So far, Powell’s predictions have failed to materialise and his prophesy of violence and bloodshed have come to nothing.

Powell did get something right though.

In 1994 Farage wrote asking Powell to endorse him in his election campaign to become an MP. Powell refused. In the event, Farage came forth, with just 952 votes, only just ahead of the candidate for the Monster Raving Looney Party

If only today’s British electorate could see Farage for what he really is: a right wing, self-serving opportunist with not one shred of common decency.

[mikesfilmtalk]

Sisyphus Unbound (2023) Sly Mythology

Sisyphus Unbound (2023) is a sly dramatic ode to Greek Mythology. Written and directed by Ryan Fleming (My Best Nut) and starring Timothy J Cox as Professor Layman, Frederick J. Todd as Virgil and Emerson Adams as Gwen Layman this short film is nothing but creative. The sly mythology references; Sisyphus (A.K.A Virgil – the poet) displeasing Zeus (Professor Layman). Therefore Virgil turns to an…

[sanders-soulbound-au]

Character Bios

Patton Flores ☀️

He/xe (nonbinary) • 17

Latino - tan

Pansexual

Uses pronoun bracelets for those he is out to (he/him is blue and xe/xem is yellow)

Enjoys cooking, gardening, cartoons, his friends, cuddling plushies, seeing adorable pets, beanbags, telling puns and jokes, physical affection, Disney princes (they’re all so handsome and wonderful), sleepovers with Virgil, using emojis as much as he wants, his parents

Doesn’t enjoy most green vegetables, bugs or arachnids, feeling like he’s not smart when communicating in English, self-deprecation, being sad, fire, sleeping without a light

Virgil’s best friend since childhood

Logan Banerjee ☀️

He/him (trans) • 16

Indian - brown

Bisexual

Enjoys reading, learning about history, wordplay (specifically word association games), debates, trying out science experiments, biology, being right, board games, space, crossword books, classical music, art, photography, rain, cats

Doesn’t enjoy not being out to his parents, being judged because of heritage, internet trends, NOT being right, video games, the idea of time travel, wild animals, puns or pick-up lines, stereotypes

Has no plans to medically transition. Owns a binder (as Virgil helped him to get one)

In a QPR with Virgil

Virgil Cox 🌙

He/him • 16

African American - black

Demiromantic gay

Enjoys browsing through tumblr, sleepovers with Patton, sleeping in general, binging Netflix, speaking in sarcasm, confusing Logan with memes, Halloween, his last name, playing chess, fairy lights, spiders, cats, the paranormal, Patton’s puns

Doesn’t enjoy pop or country music, loud noises, heights, getting sweaty palms, power blackouts, school, pressure of most kinds, outer space, having photos taken of him, being ridiculed

Patton’s best friend since childhood (you do anything to hurt Patton and you will be catching Virgil’s hands)

In a QPR with Logan

Roman 🌟

They/them (agender) • 16

Italian - fair skin

Gay ace

Enjoys theatre, musicals, Disney, upbeat or pop music, daydreaming, fantasy books, being alikened to a Disney prince, being/having the four a’s: agender, ace, adhd and awesome, romance and the cliches associated with it, festivity, iced drinks, being out and about, star-gazing, adventure

Doesn’t enjoy rap (except for Hamilton), rock&roll or country music, being around their father, boredom, know-it-alls, rough-textured things (such as rugs), being misgendered, forgetting things

[dozydawn]

Vera Cox, Dee Dee Stoltzfus, Natalie Bachmann, and Meghan Douglas for Chloé RTW SS 1991

[zurich-snows]

The Passive Vampire, Romanian surrealist poet Ghérasim Luca's recently translated book, brings objects and desires into intimate contact, with unexpected results. Review by Kenneth Cox

Ghérasim Luca's Le Vampire Passif has for many years been surrounded by an aura of mystery, like a ‘forgotten' or lost grimoire of surrealist writing; a book that, like its author, has had something of a ‘phantom existence'. First published in Budapest in 1945, by the appropriately named Éditions de l'Oubli (‘Forgotten Books') - written in French, and not his native Romanian - in an edition of only 460 copies, the book was not republished until 2001, by José Corti. It was not only its inaccessibility that created the book's legendary status, and not only amongst that minority readership interested in surrealism, but the personality of its author.

Born Salman Locker in Bucharest in 1913, the son of a Jewish tailor, it wasn't until much later that he became Ghérasim Luca. Drawn to poetry and the Romanian avant garde, when Locker was about to publish his first text, the pseudonym ‘Ghérasim Luca' was suggested by a friend, which he promptly used. Only later did he learn that his friend had stumbled across this name by chance in an obituary. In 1940, together with Gellu Naum, Dolfi Trost, Virgil Teodorescu and Paul Paun, he founded the Romanian Surrealist Group, following a visit to Paris in 1938 where, through fellow Romanians Victor Brauner and Jacques Hérold, he had met the French surrealists - a decisive encounter. Although in existence for only seven years, cast adrift in clandestinity throughout WWII and mostly remaining in obscurity ever since, the Romanian Surrealist Group was nonetheless one of the most explosive, original manifestations of surrealist thinking and practice. Throwing down the gauntlet with their pivotal statement, composed by Luca and Trost, The Dialectic of Dialectic: a Message to the International Surrealist Movement, they set out to challenge any slide into complacency that might result in surrealism's discoveries being absorbed into means of cultural production only, to prevent it ‘sinking into a hackneyed Romantic idealism'. Their declaration makes the uncompromising demand that surrealism remain in a condition of perpetual revolution, through taking a radically dialectic standpoint of continuous negation, and further, the negation of that negation.

In 1952 Luca moved from Bucharest to Paris, the city he loved, where his poetic researches were mostly of a solitary nature. Perhaps best known for his poetry, with its hermetic wordplay exploring the morphology of language, breaking down and rearranging its constituent parts to uncover new meanings, Luca was described by Gilles Deleuze as the greatest living poet writing in French. Having spent over 40 years in France without papers, he was evicted from his apartment in 1994, along with all the building's tenants, victims of ‘urban renewal'. At the age of 80 and unable to accept his new situation, Luca committed suicide on 9 February 1994 by drowning himself in the Seine - a poet's death, his body being found exactly one month later, an event curiously foreshadowed in a text from 1945, La Mort Morte (Dead Death), composed of five ‘suicide notes'.

The Passive Vampire itself is an object that is incredibly difficult to describe, as elusive as its subject matter, being a concoction of theoretical enquiry and deeply personal observation, mixing poetic prose and psychoanalytic investigation. On the surface, it deals with the creation and exchange of (highly personal) surrealist objects, illustrated throughout with enigmatic photographs, presented as pictorial evidence in such a way as to place the book in a lineage stemming from André Breton's Nadja. In places it possesses a distinct lyrical quality, most likely inspired by Lautréamont, but rather than taking a delirious plunge into the imagination's depths through any purple prose, Luca writes with a disarming honesty and directness in describing and interpreting events.

The book falls into two distinct sections, the first of which is concerned with what Luca terms the ‘Objectively Offered Object' (OOO), and describes the circumstances surrounding a number of these composite surrealist objects, each made by combining found or chosen individual items. These composite objects were made by Luca in order to be given, as a means of revealing the hidden relationships between subjects, through an ‘active collective consciousness' that is very much analogous to dream. The giving of such OOOs is differentiated from the giving of ordinary presents, an act which has been reduced to mere convention or habit and from which the force of desire has been drained. These objects, on the other hand, are made as vessels for desire and as a means of deciphering unconscious messages, which for Luca are signs that, in their combinations and interpretations, primarily carry highly charged erotic meanings. The OOO is thus somewhat like a magical spell that both describes a desire and at the same time reveals it, and even perhaps invokes it, as if causing an event to happen. And as the truism goes, you should be careful what you wish for.

Ghérasim Luca, The Letter L

One such object, entitled ‘The Letter L', is constructed from an old, wooden child's doll found in an antique shop, with hundreds of pictorial riddles from the pages of an almanac randomly pasted over its torso and leg, and with another doll's head disturbingly attached upside down on its groin. Razor blades are inserted into this second doll's head, with one sliced into an eye. The photographs immediately call to mind the violent re-articulations of Hans Bellmer and, more recently, the Chapman brothers. Through associations with Nadja, this object had been made as an embodiment of Luca's desire to form a rapport with André Breton, whom he admired and had met only once, briefly. As Luca expresses it:

The doll found in the shop window and the envelope full of riddles in the drawer only imposed their presence, violently, into my life at the moment when the desire to know B. [Breton] located in them the overt substitute means for doing this. The incubus found its full realisation through the use of these two magic objects in which I was also shortly to discern sorcery's demonic power. (pp.44-45)

There is something distinctly sulphurous in Luca's allusions, from his poetic hermeticism to the various thaumaturgical and satanic references that run through the book. Certainly, there was a ritual element to the creation of these objects, doubtlessly stemming from his participation in various collective games of the Romanian Surrealist Group; games of giving and receiving ‘awards' in absurdist ceremonial, and those of exploring the poetic qualities of objects in a darkened room through touch alone. These were games without competition, based upon exchange and complicity, without a predetermined point of arrival; through play the participants were able to explore the relationships that exist between subject and object, and the latent messages that are carried by the objects through a web of inter-subjectivity, in a ‘language of desire'.

Ghérasim Luca, The Ideal Phantom

A striking passage gives an account of an earthquake one night in the streets of Bucharest, a description that is both objective and oneiric, mediated by another OOO, entitled ‘The Ideal Phantom', which in Luca's interpretation brought together two subjects in the most extraordinary of experiences:

I was awoken at 4 a.m. by a dreadful earthquake: the walls were shaking, wardrobes flung across the room, books falling down on all sides, objects and glasses smashing. Throughout the duration of the quake I kept shouting that I knew it would happen. These powers of prediction, which I was discovering for the first time, only increased my terror. Half an hour later G. came over from the other side of town to see if I had survived, and told me the city was in ruins. I gave him The Ideal Phantom, and we went outside. The streets were full of destruction and rubble, and this town I'd never liked, with its stupid people, stupid streets, and stupid houses, was now unrecognisable, now it had a truly unique beauty, and scantily clad women traversed it like ghosts. (pp.56-59)

Luca expresses a desire to transform the world, even if this transformation was to be brought about by catastrophe, in an experience of convulsive beauty. A recombination of objects and subjects for Luca might even act as a precipitate of desire, provoking a genuinely revolutionary convulsion of reality that is inextricably bound up with social and political transformation and, one might say, without which revolutions that are simply concerned with a rearrangement of power relationships are doomed to failure. This very much holds true in our own turbulent times.

Following the poetic-scientific accounts of the OOOs, the second section of the book is entitled ‘The Passive Vampire'. This second section is more lyrical, its almost satanic litanies going beyond the psychoanalytic into more esoteric meditations upon the relationships between the self and the object, and eventually between existence and non-existence. Luca even contemplates objects as communicating between themselves, with the subject - like a phantom or passive vampire - attempting thereby to discern those mysterious, invisible connections that are present in the universe, but are revealed in rare moments when the conditions are right. Such objects have a magical power to effect change, whether consciously directed or as the instrument of unconscious forces. From the process of bringing together component objects into an assemblage, Luca is able to solve the magical cipher of desire, at which moment the object is then transformed into a vehicle for the desire invoked, capable of bringing that desire to reality through the revolutionary force of love. The object thus becomes a dark lantern illuminating internal and external realities, bringing together unconscious and conscious in a surreality. Luca's thinking might be dismissed as wild and wishful, but this is poetic thought at work in its most unrestrained form, striving to grasp the workings of objective chance, striving to discover a new language even:

a new language that genuinely expresses the psychic phenomena which resemble, but are not identical to, dream. This dream which, even if still opposed to external reality, has long since ceased to be opposed to the life of the dreamer. In this language, the one I have been unable to find, the ancient antinomies, beginning with that of good and evil, will be resolved for the meanwhile at an individual level. (pp.78-81)

The book closes with one final, extended account of an exchange of objects, in which an object made by Luca appears to deviate from its intended function as events unfold, to take control even, in a manner that has ill-fated consequences for its creator. The object, entitled ‘Déline-Fetish', constructed from a doll's leg, a 12-pointed star and a turbaned head on a metal stand, came to embody Luca's desire for a woman, Déline, with whom he had fallen deliriously in love. But rather than leading to the realisation of Luca's desire, the object somehow seems to bring about a baleful rupture between the couple. It is a poignant account of love that flares up violently and is abruptly lost, leaving us in darkness, on the cusp of Luca's despair.

Ghérasim Luca, Déline-Fetish

There is no doubt that The Passive Vampire should take its place amongst the essential ‘classics' of surrealism's history, but, moreover, it provides a valuable stimulus for any current investigations into the workings of chance and its objects, of dream and desire. As the translator, Krzysztof Fijalkowski writes in his excellent introduction, this work is important ‘as a fixed marker for the questions asked today by those wishing to situate themselves in the continuing stream of a critical surrealist thought.'

Kenneth Cox <surrealism AT madasafish.com>, a founder member of Leeds Surrealist Group, is editor of the magazine Phosphor and co-directs the Surrealist Editions imprint: http://leedssurrealistgroup.wordpress.com

Info

Ghérasim Luca, The Passive Vampire, translated and with an introduction by Krzysztof Fijalkowski. Prague: Twisted Spoon Press, 2008

[stillebesat]

Christmas Eve (4/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, Frogmin!Virgil, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk, Human-ish Creatures kept as Pets Taglist in Reblog

To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Roman regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

The Dameon he knew could spin the truth like a top. His stories sounding so believable that even now, years later, Roman still had very little idea what he actually knew about his Ex...besides the fact that he was a slimy no good lying viper. If he wanted to get a Frogmin for his kid, then Roman was sure Dameon could point to any cage on the shelf, and despite Roman’s years of experience, convince him that whatever cage he picked would be perfectly adequate to hold the Frogmin. 

Oh Crofters, would the Frogmin they picked out be okay going home with them?! He couldn’t remember Dameon being cruel to animals, but the guy had never shown an interest in them either. Sure, Pattey seemed sweet enough but if Dameon was his actual dad then what if it was all just an act. What if--

Dameon huffed, running his fingers through his curly hair, messing it up in a way that Roman had never seen him do when they’d been together. He straightened, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes as he slipped a hand in his pocket, moving a couple of steps down the aisle to give his kid some space to interact with the Frogmins without them hovering.

Reluctantly Roman followed, his attention split between ensuring Pattey wouldn’t reach into the cage and terrorize the Frogmins...and watching his Ex’s every move.

“You and I both know that I could just point to a random cage and convince you I’d bought it elsewhere, but I hope that the picture I took will be more than enough proof that I have the proper setup?” He asked, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it before holding it out to him.

Well...pictures could be faked….but considering Dameon had obviously not expected to see him here...would he have gone so far as to fake a photo? It was possible. He’d done it before to fake several incidents at college parties they’d gone to...but a cage for a new pet for his son? Who would think to fake that? 

Roman exhaled. No. He’d think himself in circles until well past midnight if he tried to read too far inbetween the lines. It was Christmas Eve. Dameon wanted a Frogmin for his son and Pattey seemed genuinely excited to have one. It had to be the truth. He had to believe that. 

For now.

“If you’ve bought some dinky little hamster cage, Dae, I’m not letting you leave here with any creature until you have a proper setup.” He said, taking the phone from him.

Dameon’s eyes flashed, his mouth quirking up in a half smile as he glanced over to his son who’d somehow managed to cox basically every Frogmin in the cage closer to him. 

Impressive for a child. It must be those soft honey eyes.  

“I did do some research beforehand.” 

“You know can’t trust everything on Google right?” Roman asked as he zoomed in on the image of the kid, Pattey, standing next to a cage as tall as he was. He had to admit. It was a nice setup. Not the most expensive home for a Frogmin he’d seen, but it was a good middling sort of cage. Multilevel, plenty of foliage, there was even a mister visible from the side to keep the place humid. 

“I did ask multiple store employees as well...but I got differing answers.” 

Typical. Ask more than one person and you’d get more than one answer. Still. It looked like Dae had managed to get the proper stuff. “What sort of pond do you have within? A bowl?” People always tried to use cheap tupperware to make a pond for their Frogmins, but it never worked out well in the long run. 

Dameon scoffed, taking his phone back, fidgeting with it as he turned his head away to stare at a nearby cage of little Nagas. “As if. It’s a filtered thing. Not a waterfall, I couldn’t risk the splashing, but it has running water. Fresh. Takes up half of the floor of the cage, the rest is moss and dirt.” 

Huh. Despite his reluctance to give his Ex any credit...he really hadn’t done half bad. Roman crossed his arms. “Hideout?”

Dameon shrugged. “There’s a rock cave on the ground, a wooden one higher up, and Pattey had me grab a moss hammock four stores ago. Just in case.” 

Four? “....And just how many stores have you been to today?” On Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t he be like...going to some big fancy party or something? Or…at least getting ready for Santa’s arrival? 

Dameon grimaced, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Fifteen.” He admitted, keeping his attention firmly on the cage in front of him. 

Roman whistled. Talk about dedication. “Ouch.” 

“Mmm.” His fingers twitched as he glanced to his son, wearing that half smile of his. “No one else in a hundred and fifty miles has them.” 

Roman’s eyebrows shot up. A hundred and FIFTY miles? Dude. Good news. It meant there was a low chance of him ever having to encounter his Ex again after tonight if he drove this far. But Dude. He drove this far? For his son? The Dameon he knew wouldn’t have gone through half as much effort. He would have convinced someone else to do all the work for him instead and then take the credit. 

“Talk about a Hail Mary then coming all the way out here without calling first.” Especially since his store was closing like...right now. “The Mythical Mins have been quite popular this year. You’re lucky my store had the foresight to quadruple our orders.” 

“I did try calling.” Dameon said, holding out a hand to the Nagamins, a flash of wistfulness crossing his face as he watched the minis leisurely slither about within. “After the first two failures...I called the next--oh, six?” He grimaced. “Those who actually answered assured me that they had them in stock--only for us to find that they’d sold out by the time we showed up. I stopped calling after that point. Just looked up the next pet store and drove.”

Wow. That was--- “I didn’t think you’d ever be so persistent. Especially for some kid.” Wait. Roman blanched. That came out so wrong--

Dameon’s eyes flashed with all too familiar anger as he whirled to him, his hands clenching. “He’s not some kid, Roman, he’s my son. And as cliche as it is...I would move heaven and earth to make him happy.” 

Roman jerked his hands up. “I didn’t mean--” Yeesh. And he was hoping to avoid triggering Dameon’s temper. He just hadn’t expected his Ex to be...that protective. Of course, he just hadn’t ever seemed the type to...settle down either. “That came out wrong.” His words were usually wrong in some fashion when Dameon was present. “Honestly, I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t.” 

Dameon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, the anger unexpectedly vanishing as quickly as it had sparked. “The eyes right?” He raised a hand to his own golden ones.

“Well...yah. They’re practically the same.” Unfortunately. Though on the kid it was cute instead of terrifying. 

He dropped his hand. “Yah...well you saw it quicker than I did.” He looked back to Pattey. 

Roman blinked. “Wait. You--”

Dameon huffed, shaking his head. “It took me...a bit...to believe he was mine.” He said in a low voice.

Roman scoffed “You saw his eyes and you didn’t--weren’t you expecting him?! Weren’t you there for his birth?”  Hadn’t Dameon just said he would move heaven and earth for the kid? He would have thought--

His Ex ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further before he gestured to himself. “Do I look like--No. I--I’d--I’m---” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know how I was, Ro--I didn’t--” 

Was. Roman raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard Dameon stutter this much since...well, their first meeting. “And you were always so eloquent.” Flowery words, hidden meanings, barbed compliments. He’d lost more sleep to figuring out just what Dameon had actually said to him and what potential meanings his words held during college than he ever had over studying for finals. 

Dameon rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“Make me.”

Those were fighting words, Roman knew. 

Yet his Ex didn’t rise to the bait. He hunched his shoulders, visibly taking a deep breath before relaxing his hands. “I’m not like that anymore. I’ve chan--” He cut off grimacing.

“....You’ve changed.” He’d heard that particular phrase a dozen times in college. Yet this time...it seemed just a tad more...believable. 

 Dameon exhaled, giving a slight shake of his head before meeting his eyes. “I’m trying to be a better person...and even if I wasn’t,” he gestured to his son, “I would much rather walk out of here with a Frogmin than without one for his sake.” 

Wouldn’t any parent? At least the ones who wanted to prevent a meltdown. Roman tilted his head to the boy. “He is a cute kid.” Despite who his Father was. 

“He is.” Daemon said, that fond half smile appearing on his lips again without any sign of the malice Roman was familiar with. “Some days...I wonder how I got so lucky.” 

Yah...karma had obviously gotten mixed signals there. 

Mentally Roman kicked himself. And that was how he’d end up getting the three Christmas ghosts visiting him tonight. Sure. He was still obviously bitter about his Ex. But he knew people could change. Just because he couldn’t picture Dameon being a good Dad, didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Not when the apparent proof was standing right before him. “Well...it seems like Fatherhood has done you some good.” 

Red tinged Janus’s cheeks as he raised a single eyebrow. “Is it really that hard to believe? That I could be a good dad?”

Had he ever looked back on their college years? The list of why he wouldn’t be a good dad could easily fill three books. 

But. Roman tilted his hand back and forth. “I only ever knew Liar Dae.” He said simply. 

There was still a chance he was still talking to him right now, though from what he’d seen so far he’d like to believe otherwise.  

Dameon grimaced. “Right.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Right. I--” 

“DADDY!! PRINCEY!!!” Pattey squealed as he rushed towards them, his hands held up high to show them a tiny figure with purple and black spots hanging on to his fingers for dear life. “I GOT MY FROGMIN!”

Roman blinked, mouth dropping open as he recognized the rebelliously reclusive Frogmin who had sworn over a year ago that he would never go home with any human.

“Virgil?” He whispered taking a half step forward as Dameon dropped to his knees in time to catch his son before he could run face first into their legs. 

“He picked me, Daddy!!” He picked me!” Pattey cried, practically vibrating with excitement as Dae quickly brought his hands up to surround his son’s, keeping the little emo Frogmin from being jostled further. 

“That’s great, Pat!” His Ex said as his cool golden eyes gave the Frogmin a once over, his fingers twitching on his son’s hands. 

Roman made a soft sound in the back of his throat as the Frogmin hissed, ducking down out of sight. 

Yah. That was Virgil alright. The hiss was his trademark sound after he’d learned it from Roman’s own Min, Logan. But why would he come out of his dark little corner to--how had Pattey even convinced him?! Roman himself had tried every trick in the book to warm the dark and stormy emo of a Frogmin up to the idea of being owned by a human.

Nothing had worked.

Though Roman couldn’t remember ever offering spiders as a bribe before. Was that honestly all that it would have taken? A different food source? 

“Virgil?” He asked again, biting his lip as his voice elicited another hiss from the Min and the unwelcome attention of his Ex. 

Dameon looked up, eyes flashing. “Is there a problem?” He asked in such a Karen tone that Roman automatically bristled at it. 

“Ye--No? NO!” He said slashing his hand across his chest in denial. 

Dameon huffed, his hands remaining steady on Pattey’s as he half turned to him, giving him the look. “Roman.” 

Roman glowered at his name, baring his teeth in what could barely be called a smile. “I said, NO, Dameon.” He said working to keep his tone even and obviously failing by how his eyes sharpened. “It’s just that Virgil’s never wanted to go home with anyone before. I’m--” Worried. Surprised. Concerned. Curious. The list could go on forever. He knew Virge after all. And there had been plenty of kids just like Pattey -besides the golden eyes- who’d wanted Frogmins before and Vee had never shown himself to them.

A variety of emotions flashed across Dameon’s face too fast for him to process as his Ex tilted his head, staring at him in such a way that Roman was sure he was analyzing every word he used and movement he’d made. “Worried he won’t be a good fit?” He asked, his tone more mild than Roman had been expecting as he dropped his hands from his son’s, though he could hear a hint of bitterness to it.

He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But--- Roman exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he held out his other hand, tilting it back and forth. “Honestly...Virgil probably likes me about as much as I like you.” He said, watching as Dameon winced.  

“And that means...?”

What else did Dae expect him to say? Their relationship had been toxic. Before ten minutes ago, Roman would have said that all he felt for Dameon was utmost hatred.

Now though? 

It was...it was all so muddled. He was seeing a side of Dae that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know what to think. “Soo--” 

“It means we’ll be besties!!” Patton cried, honey eyes positively lighting up as he bounced in place, eliciting another hiss from the Frogmin. “I’ll be the Prince and Virgil will be the Dragon Witch and together we’ll defeat the evil Aaraog and we’ll all live happily ever after! Right Prince Roman?” Pattey beamed at him, holding his hands out, fingers uncurling so that he could see Virgil. 

The Frogmin growled, dark hair falling in front of his mismatched eyes before he adjusted his legs, jumping to the boy’s shoulder.

Pattey let out a giggle, scrunching up his shoulders. “Vee, that tickles!!”  

Roman let out a breath as Virgil ducked down into the collar of the boy’s jacket. A Happy ending huh? “...Right….That.”

Daemon’s own smile was rather brittle as he stood, ruffling his son’s hair. “Soo…” He said echoing Roman’s tone of voice as he looked up, eyes for once not looking cold and calculating, but...resigned? “It looks like Virgil here wants to come home with my son.” He said, gesturing to the Frogmin peering out from Pattey’s jacket. “Is there paperwork or something I need to fill out for him or--?” 

Right. No need to drag out this conversation any longer now the kid had chosen his new pet. “Yes. You’ll need to fill out forms and Virgil--” He cut off as the Frogmin hissed giving him the middle finger. He tsked. Now that wasn’t appropriate for a child to see.  “Virgil.”  

The Frogmin shook his head, spots slightly glowing as he glowered at him. “No Box, Princey.” He said, with a slight echo to his voice. 

Princey? Roman pursed his lips together. Of course the Emo Nightmare chose to finally speak to him now that he was leaving the store. Typical. A true Christmas Miracle. Logan would be so proud to hear that the little EmoFrogmare had finally broken his silence to Roman. 

Pattey reached up, cupping his hand protectively around the Frogmin as he gave Roman the saddest puppy dog look he’d seen this holiday season with the watery eyes, trembling lip and everything. “Vee can stay with me right? I’ll keep him warm.” 

Yes, but-- “You know that’s not our policy, Vir--” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as Virgil let out an even longer hiss sounding like an agitated rattlesnake. “Fine. Fine. But if you fall and break your leg it’s not my fault.” 

Dameon coughed into his hand, doing a poor job of hiding his smile as Virgil flashed him a thumbs up, curling up against Pattey’s neck as the boy gasped, eyes going wide. 

“No! No breaking! He’ll stay Safe!! Virgil is MY PROTECTOR!! He’s eating the spiders!” He said, shaking his head hard enough that the Frogmin would have fallen if the kid’s hand hadn’t been right there for him to cling to with his little sticky fingers. “Promise!” 

And this was the boy EmoFrogmare wanted to go home with? Roman didn’t understand at all. He raised an eyebrow as Vee settled once more on Pattey’s shoulder. “That’s good. Just be careful alright?”  

Virgil hissed in response, baring his teeth at them.

“He really doesn’t like you does he?” Daemon commented in a low voice.

Roman rolled his eyes, gesturing for his Ex to follow him to the checkout counter so he could grab the proper forms. “Nope.” He said, popping the P. It was kinda irritating too. He could charm all the other Mins in the store and get them more comfortable and out of their shells before going to their new homes, but Virgil had never warmed up to him. 

Dameon gave him a crooked smile. “I’m sorry.”

Roman stiffened at the unexpected third apology falling easily from the snake’s lips. How could he say it now for something that wasn’t even his fault when he couldn’t even apologize for--for...everything that had happened between them back in college? 

He shook his head, waving it away. “Don’t be--well you can be once you pay for him.” He said, jabbing a finger in his Ex’s direction before pulling out the forms and a pen. “Then his bad behavior is on you, not me.”

To Be Continued.  Part 5

[pop-pop-pop-popculture]

MET Gala List Part Two

I made a part two. 😊 Also, the gala is TODAY!

(Remember, this is just a list of celebrities I would invite if I was in charge of it.)

201. Sara Paulson 202. Julia Roberts 203. Brandon Maxwell 204. Pierpaolo Piccioli (designer for Valentino) 205. Yara Shahidi 206. Gemma Chan 207. Laverne Cox 208. Lucy Boynton 209. Naomi Campbell 210. Penelope Cruz 211. Salma Hayek 212. Gwyneth Paltrow 213. Rami Malek 214. Sienna Miller 215. Aurora James 216. Carey Mulligan 217. Charli XCX 218. Alexa Chung 219. Stella Maxwell 220. Sofía Sánchez Barrenechea 221. Dapper Dan 222. Aquaria 223. Normani 224. Camila Coelho 225. Deepika Padukone 226. Tommy Hilfiger 227. Violet Chachki 228. Nasiba Adilova 229. Shailene Woodley 230. Ansel Elgort 231. Joe Jonas 232. Megan Fox 233. Laura Haddock 234. Orlando Bloom 235. Willow Smith 236. Jason Sudeikis 237. Ewan McGregor 238. Coco Rocha 239. Ralph Lauren 240. BTS - Jungkook, V, Park Ji-min, Jin, Suga, RM, J-Hope 241. Blackpink - Jennie, Lisa, Rosé, Jisoo 242. Doja Cat 243. Sam Claflin 244. Kiera Knightley    245. Alexina Graham 246. Rachel Zegler 247. Sophia Lillis 248. Sam Smith 249. Mimi Cuttrell 250. Aubrey Plaza 251. Adam Driver 252. Kate McKinnon 253. Aidy Bryant 254. Thomasin McKenzie 255. Maddie Ziegler 256. Kristen Bell 257. Idina Menzel 258. Michelle Dockery 259. Chris Evans 260. Peter Dinklage 261. Luke Evans 262. Liam Hemsworth 263. Robert Pattinson 264. Christian Louboutin 265. Stuart Weitzman 266. Nicola Glass (designer for Kate Spade) 267. Michael Kors 268. Manolo Blahnik 269. Alberta Ferretti 270. Kim Jones (designer for Fendi) 271. Viktor Horsting 272. Rolf Snoeren 273. Richard Madden 274. Giorgio Armani 275. Isabel Marant 276. Nicky Zimmermann 277. Simone Zimmermann 278. Gimmo Etro 279. Austin Butler 280. Abigail Breslin 281. Lana Del Rey 282. Natalia Dyer 283. Molly Ringwald 284. Adele 285. Giambattista Valli 286. Tamara Ralph 287. Michael Russo 288. Isla Fisher 289. Anastasia Soare (founder of Anastasia Beverly Hills) 290. Charlotte Tilbury 291. Allan Avendaño 292. Danielle Priano 293. Pier Gelardi (founder of Refinery29) 294. Philippe von Borries (founder of Refinery29) 295. Christene Barberich (founder of Refinery29) 296. Justin Stefano (founder of Refinery29) 297. Sara Moonves (editor-in-chief for W Magazine) 298. Arnaud de Contades (CEO of Marie Claire Magazine) 299. Anne Fullenwider (editor-in-chief of Marie Claire Magazine)  300. Lauren Conrad 301. Miles Socha (editor-in-chief of Women’s Wear Daily) 302. Jay Penske (CEO of Women’s Wear Daily) 303. Jessica Pels (editor-in-chief for Cosmopolitan Magazine) 304. Rob Zangardi 305. Mariel Haenn 306. Michael Fassbender 307. Elliot Page 308. Betsey Johnson 309. Jonathan Groff 310. Anna Faris 311. Meryl Streep 312. Brie Larson 313. Renée Elise Goldsberry 314. Jasmine Cephas Jones 315. Cindy Crawford 316. Nicholas Hoult 317. Zac Posen 318. Taraji P. Henson 319. Joan Smalls 320. Samira Nasr (editor-in-chief of Harper’s Bazaar Magazine) 321. Lily James 322. Thandiwe Newton 323. Ciara Bravo 324. Mary Elizabeth Winstead 325. Phoebe Dynevor 326. Allison Janney 327. Daniel Levy 328. Claire Foy 329. Lisa Eldridge 330. Kale Teter 331. LaQuan Smith 332. Lacy Redway 333. Alexandra DiRoma 334. Alex White (fashion director for Elle Magazine U.S.) 335. Carine Roitfeld (founder and editor-in-chief of CR Fashion Book) 336. Carine Backoff 337. Zoey Grossman 338. Tyler Shields 339. Greg Williams 340. Cass Blackbird 341. Timothée Chalamet 342. Virgil Abloh 343. Owen Gould 344. Tobi Henney 345. Marc Eram 346. Charlotte Prevel 347. Romy Soleimani 348. Rebecca Minkoff 349. Joseph Altuzarra 350. Gabriela Heart (designer for Chloé) 351. Hedi Slimane (designer for Céline) 352. Phoebe Philo (designer for Céline) 353. Jonathan Anderson (designer for Loewe) 354. Saweetie 355. Kelsey Deenihan Fisher 356. Lorde 357. Demna Gvasalia (designer for Balenciaga)

For this list, I include some makeup artists, fashion photographers, hairstylists, editor-in-chief for magazines, and the CEO of magazines. I still don’t understand the point of inviting athletes, so I left them off.

Now, here is who I would NOT invite...

59. Machine Gun Kelly 60. 21 Savage 61. French Montana 62. Chris Pratt 63. Bella Thorne 64. Scarlett Johansson 65. Jennifer Lawrence 66. Emma Watson 67. Vanessa Hudgens 68. Sacha Baron Cohen 69. Dylan Sprouse 70. Barbara Palvin  71. Ashton Kutcher 72. Sarah Jessica Parker 73. Zayn Malik 74. Olivia Jade 75. Channing Tatum 76. Paris Hilton 77. Nicky Hilton

♡ September 3, 2021 September 13, 2021 ♡

[askintothevoids]

Virgil: I’ll fucking bite you.

Roman: Oh no, you’re so scary.

Virgil: My goddamn bite is nasty, I suggest you watch your snickering, ya cox-comb of a crook-nosed knave.

Roman: This is 2061, Gloomy Gus.

Virgil: I’ll kick ya back even farther than me, you’ll be shooting the breeze with dinosaurs, bespawled gobermouch.

Roman snickers again.

Virgil: You little shit

[gusgrissom]

19. Liberty Bell 7 (Mercury-Redstone 4)

Date: July 21, 1961 (15 minutes, 37 seconds)

Crew: Virgil I. “Gus” Grissom

Mission Highlights: Following several delays due to unfavorable weather, Liberty Bell 7 launched on July 21st at 7:20 am. Mission objectives were similar to those of Alan Shepard’s flight three months earlier, and sought to corroborate findings from Freedom 7. Unlike MR-3, MR-4 included a viewing window rather than a periscope, and utilized an explosive-release hatch. Gus spent the fifteen-minute flight performing manual maneuvers, testing controls, and observing the Earth. The view proved to be a considerable distraction:

“I realized I would have to hurry my programmed pitch, yaw and roll maneuvers... but the view out the window distracted me, resulting in an overshoot in pitch. This put me behind in my schedule even more... This was the part of the flight to which I had been looking forward. There was a full minute that was programmed for observing the earth. The view through the window became quite spectacular as the horizon came into view. The sight was truly breathtaking. The earth was very bright, the sky was black, and the curvature of the earth was quite prominent.”

Reentry and the initial splashdown occurred without complications. While waiting for recovery by the USS Randolph, the hatch exploded prematurely, flooding the bobbing capsule. Gus climbed out and struggled to stay afloat in the rough (shark-infested) waters as helicopters pilot attempted to recover the spacecraft. Finally, George Cox and a second helicopter hoisted Gus out of the ocean. Liberty Bell 7 was filled with water and too heavy to be recovered, so it was cut loose from the chopper.

Despite rumors and speculation, several internal investigations as well as independent reviews proved that Gus was not (and could not be) responsible for the premature detonation and loss of the spacecraft. 

Significance: Much like the flight of Freedom 7, the suborbital flight of Liberty Bell 7 sought to demonstrate some of the most basic and most essential capabilities of Mercury spacecraft and human astronauts. Most modifications, such as the viewing window, new stabilization system, and control panel redesign, proved to be beneficial and improved future NASA missions. Gus’ performance earned him a spot at the top of the upcoming Gemini flight list.

On July 20, 1999, the eve of MR-4′s 38th anniversary and the 30th anniversary of the first moon landing, Liberty Bell 7 was recovered from the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Guenter Wendt, NASA legend and pad leader for every Mercury and Gemini flight, was part of the recovery team. After the capsule was raised to the deck of the recovery ship, Wendt said, “Let me just go ahead and touch it after 38 years.”

[the-record-obituaries]

Jan. 29, 2020: Obituaries

Frances Gay, 99

Mrs. Frances Allie Curtis Brendle Gay, age 99 of North Wilkesboro, passed away Sunday, January 26, 2020, at Rose Glen Manor in North Wilkesboro.

Funeral services will be held 2:00 PM, Thursday, January 30, 2020 in the fellowship hall of Pleasant Grove Baptist Church with Rev. Brady Hayworth and Rev. Phil Chapman officiating. The family will receive friends from 12:30 until 1:30 prior to the service in the fellowship hall. Burial will be in the church cemetery.

Mrs. Gay was born January 17, 1921 in Wilkes County to Joel Curtis and Grace Viola Parsons Curtis. She retired from Wilkes Hosiery and was a member of Pleasant Grove Baptist Church. Frances lived served and honored the Lord her family and her community until God called her home at the age of 99.She was a second mother to her brothers and sisters and had a work ethic to provide. Frances read the Bible through 30+ times and was a former Sunday school teacher at Pleasant Grove Baptist Church.

       She loved her care from her Home and family at Rose Glen Manor. She was known for her quick sense of humor and her strong independence. Frances loved spending time with her family and working crossword puzzles. She was loved by all who knew her and will be dearly missed.

       In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by her first husband; Ed Brendle and second husband; Lathian W. Gay, a sister; Grace Vaught, two brother; Junior Curtis and Edwin Curtis and a brother in law; Fred Ferguson.

       She is survived by a sister; Helen Ferguson of Millers Creek and two brothers; Basil Walker and wife Gail of Hilton Head Island, SC and Bobby Walker and wife JoAnn of Wilkesboro, two sister in laws; Maxie Curtis of Millers Creek and Lou Curtis of Elkton, FL, a stepson; David Brendle and wife Frances of Greensboro and many nieces and nephews.

       Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Mtn. Valley Hospice 401 Technology Lane Suite 200 Mt. Airy, NC 27030 or Rose Glen Manor 240 South Independence Ave. North Wilkesboro, NC 28659.

 Denise Eller,  63

Denise Eller, age 63, of Wilkesboro, passed away Friday, January 24, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Health-Wilkes Regional. Denise was born February 7, 1956 in Wilkes County to George H. Eller, Jr. and Oma Jean Mitchell Eller.                                                She was a member of Bethel Baptist Church. Denise loved to attend all the youth sports teams, attending all the games she was able. She was a big North High Vikings and a Carolina Tarheels basketball fan. Denise loved her cats and had a special love for all cats. Ms. Eller was preceded in death by her parents.

Surviving are her Aunt, Dare Cothren of Thomasville; Lots of Cousins; life-long friend, Pam Rhoades of North Wilkesboro; and her loving cat, Tempe.

       Funeral service was January 28,  at Bethel Baptist Church with Pastor Donnie Shumate officiating and eulogy by Randy Rhoades. Burial  followed in Mountlawn Memorial Park.  Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Bethel Baptist Church, PO Box 679, Hays, NC 28635. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

       Pallbearers were Seth Rhoades, Mark Anderson, Neal Anderson, Joseph Edmiston, Kenneth Ireland and Joe Reeves. Honorary pallbearers will be Christopher Edmiston, Will Rhoades and Levi Rhoades.

  Gladys Gilbert,  94

Mrs. Gladys Wilma Greer Gilbert, age 94 of Wilkesboro, widow of Bobby Gilbert, died Friday, January 24, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Health - Wilkes Medical Center.

       Funeral services was January 27, at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Rev. Sherrill Wellborn officiating.  Burial was in the Full Gospel Mission Church Cemetery.  

       Mrs. Gilbert was born March 1, 1925 in Watauga County to Albert and Rebecca Carlton Greer.  

       Mrs. Gilbert was preceded in death by her parents; her husband, Bobby Gilbert; seven sisters, Edna Hampton, Maggie Clawson, Lily Triplett, Ora Watson, Bernice Cox, Ruth Miller, and Melba Hayes; and four brothers, Virgil Greer, Sherman Greer, Vaughn Greer, and Bynum Greer.

       She is survived by her daughter, Betty Greene Keels and husband, Edward, of Wilkesboro; her son, Bill Greene and wife, Christine, of Wilkesboro; her four grandchildren, Debbie Blevins, Sandra Mastin, Lisa Austin, and Scott Keels; six great-grandchildren, Richard Shew, Zack Blevins, Patrick Blevins, Kayla Bennett, Chris Mastin, and Natasha Brown; and five great-great-grandchildren, Aliza Blevins, Forest Mastin, Finley Mastin, Tyler Brown, and Tristan Blevins.

       Flowers will be accepted.

 Ransome Patrick, Jr. 64

Mr. Ransome Joe Patrick, Jr. age 64 of Hamptonville, passed away Thursday, January 23, 2020 at his home.

       Funeral services were  January 25, at Reins Sturdivant Chapel with Rev. Matthew Vannoy and Rev. Justin Norman officiating. Burial was in the Patrick Family Cemetery.                                    Mr. Patrick was born June 1, 1955 in Wilkes County to Ransome Joe Patrick, Sr. and Oma Kathleen Smithey. He was the Vice President of Operations for Spevco, Inc. and a member of Welcome Home Baptist Church.

       He was preceded in death by his parents and an infant brother; Charles Patrick.

       Mr. Patrick is survived by a son; Sherman Joe Patrick and wife Nikki of North Wilkesboro, a daughter; Brandi Patrick and husband Freddie of Wilkesboro, six grandchildren; Taylor South and wife Emily, Garrett Patrick, Russell Patrick, Caydan South, Brody Patrick and Kaison Patrick, a great grandchild; Ransome Joe South, a sister; Kay Patrick Ashley and a brother; Scott Patrick and wife Jennifer of Clemmons and his devoted and loving girlfriend; Annie Lee Pierce of Jonesville.

       Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Race Against Cancer c/o Diane Roberts 8167 Mertie Road Millers Creek, NC 28651.

 Robert Vaught, 85

Mr. Robert James Vaught, age 85 of North Wilkesboro, passed away Wednesday, January 22, 2020 at his home.

       Graveside services with Military Honors by the United States Army and Veterans of Foreign Wars was January 25,  at Mountlawn Memorial Park with United States Army Chaplin officiating.

       Mr. Vaught was born February 9, 1934 in Rural Retreat Virginia. He was retired from the United States Army after serving 20 years as a Platoon Tank Sargent during the Korean and Vietnam Conflicts. Mr. Vaught was an active member of the NRA and the VFW Post 1142 and retired teamster's long haul truck driver.

       In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by his wife; Johnnie Culler Vaught and a sister; JoAnn Bess.

       He is survived by a daughter; Regina Dawn

Vaught of Traphill, a son; John Ernest Vaught of North Wilkesboro, three grandchildren; Joanie Summer Vaught, Taylor Dawn Wiles and Johanna Hope Alexander, a great grandchild: Bailey Beatrice Wilson, a brother; Charlie Vaught of Georgia, a brother in law; Harry C. Steele of Winston Salem and several nieces and nephews.

       Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Disabled Veterans 1601  Brenner Ave Salisbury, NC 28144 or NRA 11250 Waples Mill Road Fairfax, VA 22030.

 Henry Blunt, 64

Henry "Petie" Carroll Blunt, age 64, of Millers Creek, passed away peacefully Tuesday, January 21, 2020. He was born February 2, 1955 in Richmond, Virginia to Ashby Fernando and Ruby Gladys Mann Blunt. He was preceded in death by his parents.

       Surviving are his siblings, Lorraine Smith of North Wilkesboro, Cecil Blunt of Millers Creek, Shirley Prescott and spouse Bill of Newport News, Virginia, Gladys Church of Millers Creek; many special nieces, nephews, great nieces and nephews; two great great nephews; aunts and cousins.

       Graveside service was January 24,  at Mountlawn Memorial Park. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

 Kristie Young,  64

Mrs. Kristie Lee Young, age 64 of Wilkesboro passed away Tuesday, January 21, 2020 at Atrium Health in Charlotte.

       Memorial services will be held 1:00 PM Saturday, February 1, 2020 at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Pastor Roger Hull officiating.  

       Mrs. Young was born February 12, 1955 in Davenport, IA to Evett Jerome and Shirley Mae Shoemaker.

       In addition to her parents she was preceded by a sister; Gayle Davisson.

       She is survived by her husband; Desmond Alan Young of the home, two sons; Derek Thomas Outlaw of Mission Viejo, CA and Douglas Neal Outlaw of San Antonio, TX, two step-daughters; Nicola Jayne Alexander and husband Steven of Wilkesboro and Adele Louise Wilson and husband Russell of San Diego, CA, six grandchildren; Scot Jackson and wife Kristen, Cody Jackson, Aaron Shaver, Laurel Angeline Wilson and Jacob Wilson and Serenity Mae Alexander, one great grandchild; Leighton Jackson and one brother, Bradley Shoemaker and wife Elaina of Cedar Rapids, IA.

 Kyle Bumgarner, 77

Mr. Kyle Gentry Bumgarner, 77, of Millers Creek, passed away on Tuesday, January 21, 2020.

       Kyle was born on July 2, 1942 in Wilkes County to James Talmadge Bumgarner and Virchew Yates Bumgarner.  

       Kyle is preceded in death by his parents, step mother Odessa Pilkenton Bumgarner; brothers, JR, Howard, Wayne, Jim, Hobert Bumgarner; sisters, Ruth Bumgarner, Lois McGuire and Hazel Eller.  

       Kyle is survived by: his wife of 44 years, Betty Jean Wyatt Bumgarner; daughter, Sally Marshall and husband, Nick of Millers Creek; grandchildren, Keila Marshall of Louisana, Logan Eller of Moravian Falls, and Austin Marshall of Millers Creek.  

       The family  conducted a memorial service  at Union Baptist Church in Millers Creek with Rev. Steve Faw officiating.  

       In lieu of flowers memorial donations may be given to Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes P.O. Box 396 Moravian Falls, NC 28654 to help with final expenses.

       Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes has the honor of serving the Bumgarner Family.

  Jewell  Lambert, 86

Jewell Gail Lambert, age 86, of Millers Creek, passed away Monday, January 20, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Health-Wilkes Regional. She was born March 9, 1933 in Ashe County to George and Vergie Jones Eller. Mrs. Lambert was a member of Cricket Baptist Church and enjoyed gardening. She was preceded in death by her parents; and her husband Vernie Lambert.

       Surviving are her sons, Steve Lambert and spouse Kristie of Millers

Creek, Mark Rash of Wilkesboro; daughters, Carolyn Auville and Kitty Rash both of Millers Creek; sister, Charlene Lambert and spouse Gary of Hays; six grandchildren; five great grandchildren; four great great grandchildren; numerous nieces and nephews.

       Funeral service was January 23,  at Cricket Baptist Church with Rev. Randall Millsaps, Rev. Arvil Glen Perry and Rev. Joe Farmer officiating. Burial  followed in Mountain Park Cemetery.   Flowers will be accepted. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

 Edna  Watson, 96

Edna Key Blackburn Watson, age 96, of North Wilkesboro, passed away Sunday, January 19, 2020 at Westwood Hills Nursing and Rehab Center. Edna was born August 19, 1923 in Wilkes County to Clarence C. and Oma Haynes Key. She was a member of Flint Hill Baptist Church and attended Bethel Baptist Church for many years. Edna loved making crafts, doing puzzles and walking. She worked for 30 plus years and retired from Modern Globe as an inspector. Mrs. Watson was preceded in death by her parents; her first husband, Senter Blackburn; her second husband, Paul Watson; brothers, Raymond Key, Ransom Key, Henry Key; and sisters, Betty Key and Ruth Absher.

       Surviving are her sisters, Margie Shepherd, Mazie Miller, Virginia Dancy all of North Wilkesboro; brother, J.C. Key and spouse Marie of Greensboro; step-sons, Jimmy Watson and Larry Watson; many nieces and nephews.

       Funeral service was January 23,  at Miller Funeral Chapel with Pastor Donnie Shumate, Rev. Marvin Blackburn and Pastor Gene Shepherd officiating. Burial  followed in Flint Hill Baptist Church Cemetery.   Flowers will be accepted. The family has requested no food, please. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

 Martha Nichols, 78

Martha Marler Nichols, 78, died Sunday morning at Mountain Valley Hospice in Yadkinville, NC, January 19 of cancer, surrounded by her family. She was a beloved wife, mother, aunt, cousin, grandmother and friend. Martha was born and grew up in Winston-Salem, NC the daughter of Ralph H. Marler and Jeanne Lalance Marler, a member of First Presbyterian Church, attended RJ Reynolds High School, and then Converse College in Spartanburg, SC. She married James P. Barksdale, JR of Rocky Mount, NC, a Presbyterian minister in 1962 and lived in Kannapolis, NC, Charlotte, NC, and North Wilkesboro, NC with churches that he was called to serve. After his death in 1981, Martha married Ward H. Nichols, a renowned artist and returned to live in North Wilkesboro, NC.

       From the beginning of her adult life as a Presbyterian minister's wife, Martha was a devoted supporter of her husband and his career, but she also had outside interests and took art and history courses while in Charlotte and North Wilkesboro. An artist herself, she taught watercolor and drawing classes at Wilkes Community College, volunteered at the Wilkes Art Gallery and became the gallery's director in 1976. Following this work, Martha served as the Director of ExperienceWorks, the Director of Retired Senior Volunteers Program, a Commissioned Realtor with Caldwell Banker and Apple Realty, and lastly as the Marketing Director of Rose Glen Manor, the organization from which she retired.

       When Martha's mother died, she became a consummate gardener to work through her grief and before limitations in her mobility, had over 200 roses in her garden, was an award-winning master rosarian and was a member of the Winston-Salem Rose Society and American Rose Society. Valentine's Day would signify the delivery of her roses to many friends and loved ones throughout Wilkes, Caldwell, and Forsyth Counties. Also inspired by her mother's lifelong hobby of quilting, Martha became more than an avid quilter, making over 50 quilts and prayer blankets, most of which she gave to friends in celebration of a joyous occasion, or to friends who faced serious or terminal illnesses.

       In fact, Martha sought out people who were experiencing terminal illness, becoming their friend and counselor, and providing whatever comfort she could give. In 1980 when her first husband was diagnosed with cancer, Martha created what she called a home-grown hospice program since hospice was not yet widely available.  This led to her contributions towards hospice in Wilkes County, culminating in 1984, first with a speech and presentation to a group of clergy from western NC and subsequently to another group of oncologists in the area. She became well known for her lecture, "The Impact of Cancer on the Family Unit: Psychological and Theological Emphasis" and sharing her experiences were instructive in enhancing their understanding.

       The arts helped bring Martha and Ward together, and Martha's life with Ward provided another ongoing connection to the arts. Ward claims that Martha was his biggest advocate and supporter, often naming his paintings and providing constructive feedback.  She also managed the business affairs of his work, helping to organize most of his shows and always serving as a consummate host to out of town guests and collectors. They were married for more than 35 years, and their lives included an international trip almost every year and to every state in the continental US. Ward and Martha were members of North Wilkesboro Presbyterian Church and attended regularly, and Martha served as an Elder and on the membership and personnel committees. Martha's involvement in the community was extensive, and she was particularly proud of Vision2020, a long-range planning effort in Wilkes County during the 1990's.  Ward and Martha also frequently visited Charleston, SC, West Virginia and Isle of Palms, where Martha's children would join them for a week at the beach.

       While Martha had a full career and many interests and hobbies, she would claim her most important accomplishment was her family, with her first husband, Jim Barksdale and their three children, and then her marriage with Ward Nichols, which coincided in time with the arrival of her four grandchildren. Martha created an intimate family whose members have always deeply supported each other, teaching them how to love and to cherish, particularly during difficult times. Her values were very clear, she was a fervent advocate for the underprivileged, and donated her time and money to the homeless and the poor. Several causes stand out; she created the Ralph H. Marler, JR Award for the Wilkes Art Gallery in memory of her brother, and the Katie Fund for the Wilkes Animal Hospital in memory of her beloved cocker spaniel.

       In addition to her parents, Martha was preceded in death by her first husband, Rev. James P Barksdale, JR and her brother, Ralph H Marler, JR. She is survived by her husband, Ward H Nichols; and her three children, James P Barksdale III, Elisabeth S Barksdale (Laura E Clay), and grandson, Kip H Barksdale, John M Barksdale (Katina M Barksdale), and grandchildren, Ellis A Barksdale, Finn P Barksdale, and Catherine M Barksdale.

       A memorial service will be held on February 1 at 2:00pm, at the North Wilkesboro Presbyterian Church, with a celebration of life to immediately follow in the church fellowship hall.  In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to any shelter for the homeless, or to one of the funds inspired by Martha.

Thomas Eaton, 69

Mr. Thomas Frederick Eaton, age 69 of Kernersville passed away Sunday, January 19, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center.

       Funeral services were, January 24, at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel.  Burial with military honors by Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 1142 wasin Scenic Memorial Gardens.  

       Mr. Eaton was born June 12, 1950 in New Jersey to Henry J. and Regina K. Eaton.   Mr. Eaton served in the United States Air Force from 1972 until 1980. He loved airplanes, the beach, Bugs Bunny, Disney World, his cats; Stars and Stripes, his family and friends.  It seemed later in life his biggest joy was spending time with his grandchildren. He was formerly employed by RF Micro Devices.

       In addition to his parents he was preceded in death by his first wife; Kathleen E. Yeashvich Eaton and his second wife: Cynthia Diane Eaton.

       He is survived by sisters; Mary Anne Eaton, Susan J Locker and husband John, nephews; Eric J. Sneath, Christopher T. Sneath and wife Laurie, niece; Megan A. Locker, great niece; Sianna J. Sneath, sister-in-law; Joan Beem and niece; Karolyn B. Turcotte and husband Andre and their children; Sebastian and Sydney, step-daughter; Crystal Keener and husband Bucky, step-son; Jody Barbour and wife Anita and grandchildren; Kris, Harley, John, Olive, Emily, Gus and Charlie.

       Flowers will be accepted.

Edward Brown, 44

Mr. Edward Kenneth "Kenny" Brown, 44, of Wilkesboro, passed away on Friday, January 17, 2020.

       Kenny was born on March 27 1975 in Wilkes County to Kenneth Edward Brown and Shirley Louise Martin Brown.

       Kenny is preceded in death by his parents and sister, Kimberly Dare Brown.

       Kenny is survived by his sisters, Dawn Stanley (Ronnie) of N.Wilkesboro, Donna Byers of Wilkesboro; nieces, Shana Dollar (Robert), Melissa McGinty all of North Wilkesboro; nephew, Michael Byers (Olyvia) of Wilkesboro and good close friend Vera Vickers of Hickory.  

       The family  conducted a memorial service  January 25, at Westwood Hills Nursing Facility.

Rev. Steve Smith will be officiating.

In lieu of flowers donations may be given to the American Diabetes Association P.O. Box 11454 Alexandra VA, 22312 or a charity of the donor's choice.  

Condolences may be sent to:  www.adamsfunerals.com

Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes has the honor of serving the Brown Family.

[queercode-my-minecraft]

Finding You (before the end)

Ship/s: brotherly Prinxiety

Warnings: crying, mention of death, guilt, grief, no one actually dies

Notes: this is based on a prompt given to me by @takes-a-liar and it was supposed to be angsty, but, it ended up being slightly angsty but mostly weird so yay!

Roman’s heart pounded against his ribcage, breathe ragged, his thrumming blood a deafening sound to his ears.

He let himself fall on the murky ground of the dark and narrow alley, the bread he had stolen clutched tight in his hands and the feeling of being observed not quite leaving his bones. Panting, the acknowledgment of what had happened seeped through.

Alone. He was alone. The soldiers had taken him. Taken his brother, the last person he had. Taken him to a sure death. Just for a loaf or two from that rich bastard that didn’t even need them.

He knew that cursing and swearing against the damned man brought nowhere, especially now. He was entirely alone, without Virgil, who had always been there for him. Who had always protected him from the world.

But, as the selfless older brother he was, he had taken the responsibility about the theft, protecting Roman one last time.

Do what Virgil would do in this situation.

Taking a deep breathe he stood up, legs shaking, slowly returning to the main road.

A hoard of people and noises and colours and life hit him at full force.

It wasn’t fair he was the one still living.

Roman winced at the loud noises, aching for the ghost of Virgil’s comforting and vacant hand on his shoulder.

Nevertheless, he kept strolling down the road. Avoiding the guards and dodging those who would only bring harm, like Virgil taught him all that time ago, his face a blank mask.

And no one noticed him.

————

When the two guards threw him into the cell, his back hitting the cold floor, Virgil knew he had only a few hours to live and that he would pass them rotting in a cell worrying about his little brother.

God, Roman.

A pang of guilt hit him square in the chest, making him helplessly gasp for air. Clutching his legs to his chest, hot boiling tears began falling from his pale face. The thought of his younger brother, alone, without anyone to protect him or even love him, tormenting Virgil.

He had done all that was in his capabilities. However, that hadn’t been enough. They were both alone, now, and he couldn’t protect his younger brother.

Roman deserved the world and, Virgil had broken the promise he had sworn to himself in what seemed another life.

Willing his eyes closed he recalled the distant winter day.

————

The storm that had been loudly raging for the past weeks had quietened down, letting the townsfolk get out of their houses and into the streets. Soon, someone will walk up the narrow road to the top house and find two decaying bodies and two shivering half starved children.

When Virgil caught a distant figure, probably the milkman, walking up the street towards the house, his breath got caught in his throat.

Letting out a shrill scream, he immediately dove to the kitchen, starting to pack up the food that had remained. He ordered his younger brother, which eyes still held such innocence that only a kid could have. Something Virgil wanted to desperately preserve.

“Wear something heavy, put many layers on like mother would say, Ro. We’re not returning.”

(When they reached the back door, Virgil didn’t have the heart to tell Roman that he didn’t need to bring his favourite stuffed toy.)

When the figure finally reached the house, what he found was an empty house, two dead bodies and the back door opened to the infinite greyness of the sky.

————

The door of the cell opened with a quiet sound, making Virgil’s head shot up.

Where they going to actually feed him?

A guard entered, silently grabbing Virgil by the arm and dragging him out of the cell.

Virgil bared his teeth, seething:

“Where are you bringin-“

The guard placed a hand on his mouth, affectingly silencing him.

“Quiet! No one has to hear us.”

The cool, low voice was awfully familiar, although Virgil couldn’t place where he had previously heard it.

Virgil nodded and was soon darting down the corridors, a hand tight around his arm, which he was sure was going to leave a mark.

Who was this guy anyway? Why was he expecting Virgil to trust him?

If there was something he had learnt from living on the streets in that period of time is that it’s better to be cautious with everyone you meet. And, he wasn’t going to forget that lesson soon.

The answer to his question didn’t arise quickly, only leaving long corridors and narrow stairs, every step taking him lower into the ground to get followed. Diligently followed to a mystery coated base, it seemed.

Before they could reach the final door, the figure who had silently taken him stopped abruptly, turning towards Virgil. And, then, with a swift movement he took off the mask that had been keeping his face concealed.

Virgil took a sharp intake of air.

He was going to die.

————

“Early this morning, the thieves, the murderers and those who were destroying the kingdom of his royal and magnificent Highness, have been brought to the end of their days-!”

The usual voice of the messenger, that every day repeated the same thing over and over again, brought a cold sensation in Roman. He stayed frozen in the sea of people that filled the square, his only wish was to not hear his name.

“... Cox, Virgil…”

Roman’s blood turned cold, his face turning a pale colour and eyes locked at the man that was still talking, listing names on top of names.

He was alone. He was actually alone.

Virgil had left, he had died because of him.

Before he could do anything there were tears in his eyes, flowing down his cheeks, and someone, or it might just have been his imagination at that point anything could happen, he guessed, held him.

He didn’t care if he died, at least, he would see Virgil again. So, he let the man take him away from the crowd, stumbling to follow.

“Hey, it’s okay, kiddo. Everything’s going to be alright, you’re going to be alright, believe me, kiddo.”

The comforting whisper seemed to have no effect on Roman as he only cried harder, clinging to the other for dear life.

“I am so sorry, I am so so sorry you’re going through all of this. But, I promise you it’s going to be okay, kiddo.”

Roman looked up at the man, noticing the soft curls that adorned his face and warm brown eyes. With a strangled voice, he managed to ask:

“How?”

A tiny smile appeared on the others face, and he leaned to kiss Roman’s forehead.

“Clean your tears and I’ll show you, okay kiddo?”

Roman stared at the man, gaze empty, slowly processing the others words, until he nodded. Cleaning his face with a piece of clothing, determination filled in his eyes.

The figure smiled at him.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo. Now, follow me, okay?”

His voice was understanding and the heartwarming sensation that welled up inside of Roman, only made him follow him down the crowded streets and avenues. It was hard to follow the rapid footsteps of the man, but, Roman managed and he soon found himself in a deserted neighbourhood.

Silence filled the wide streets. No one, not even small creatures, were visible, leaving him and the mysterious man alone.

This is perfect place to murder someone. And, I’m the perfect victim, I have no one who would care. Except I have nothing, I am no one. What’s the use in killing someone and not have any benefit except the blood that now coats your hands?

They stopped in front of what seemed like an abandoned shop, thoughts still mulling in Roman’s mind, the man turned towards him.

He offered a tiny, comforting smile.

Was everything about the man so incredibly comforting or was it just him?

“I’m offering you a chance to find and avenge your brother. However, you will be brought to a life I would never recommend to-“

“I’m in, I don’t care. I have already lost… everything. I can- I need to avenge him, I need to do something worth of everything he ever did for me.” Interjected Roman, eyes flaring and confidence soaring through his veins. He could do it, he knew he could.

The man seemed to dim, his shoulders sagging and a sigh left his lips.

“Alright. Follow me, kiddo.” He murmured, before opening the door of the abandoned shop.

When Roman entered the room he was surprised to find in bare, nothing that could have indicated that it once was a shop. Just dust. Mounts of dust, that felt like they were filling his lungs.

“I’m Patton, by the way. It only sounds fair that you know my name since I know yours.” The man, Patton, who had sounded so cheery had sombered, the smile he had spotted until then had melted.

Roman nodded, not daring to voice his thoughts and worries. He followed Patton down narrow steps. Down into the warm earth.

They stopped after what seemed like eternity, Roman’s breath now shallow and ragged, his lungs burning from the dust. He was fit, of course he wasn’t gasping for air because they had just run down a spiral of stairs.

“Are you alright, kiddo?”

“Yes! I am! I am, let’s just- go to the place where- we ought to go and- yes.”

Patton chuckled, ruffling his hair before starting down the corridor, Roman quick behind him.

They stopped soon, to Roman’s glee, when a door parried before them. The metal, dark and cold, inspiring distrust to the newcomer.

However, Patton didn’t stop, slowly opening the door; revealing a spacious room with two figures inside.

Roman recognised immediately the man that had been their- Virgil’s demise. The noble man, Logan Wivernhath- or something like that, who had shouted that they had stolen some bread.

He clenched his teeth, hands becoming tight fists. He had murdered Virgil.

An awkward cough left the figure next to Logan, and Roman was brought to turn towards them. He froze, eyes widening and silence falling like a veil on his thoughts.

“Virgil?”

[sanders-soulbound-au]

Hi! This is a question for all four of you. What's your guys' family like? Got any siblings? What about your parents? (Also Patton, are there some people you're not out to? Who are those people?)

Oh! Well, my family’s grande! I have about five or six cousins on both my mom and my dad’s side, and I have two sisters! They’re both twins. My family’s pretty nice. And.. well, yeah? Just relatives that I don’t know well. -☀️🐶

My family is… alright, I suppose. I am not out as trans to them, and I doubt I ever will be. They have made their opinion on transgender people clear, after all. Aside from that, they are fairly kind to most people. They are both Suns, only they act more like Patton, and are constantly asking me why I’m so antisocial all the time. I have no siblings, and I think they were hoping they would get a child that was a miniature version of them. They ended up with me. -☀️📚

My family’s actually pretty okay. I’m kinda like Logan, though, because I’m not out to them. They haven’t said anything homophobic, but I just… don’t want to take the chance. I don’t want to end up like R- well, I’ll just wait until I’m out of the house and safe before I come out to them. Just in case. They’re actually really nice, though, Dad’s a Moon like me and Mom’s a star. My little sister is a Sun, but she’s a little more like Logan than Patton. I don’t have any other family, not ones worth mentioning. -🌙🕸

Oh, my mom is great! She’s really supportive of my gender identity and makes sure to use the correct pronouns and all! She’s a Star, like me, so she’s really understanding of some of the… issues that can come with being a Star. She comes to all my shows and let me just say, if acting was a competition, I totally would have won. I have a big brother too, and he’s a lot like Logan. He’s smart and he does boring science stuff. He comes to my shows, too. I also have an identical twin. We don’t speak of him. My dad, on the other hand… -⭐️🎭

Well, let’s just say I won’t tell him I’m ace. Ever. -⭐️🎭

…Oh! You also asked me who I was out to! I’m out to my parents, and they’re super duper with a cherry on top supportive!! So are my cousins and most of my friends, too. The only one I can think of who isn’t supportive is my aunt on my dad’s side, because she doesn’t believe non-binary people exist… But, well, if she c-aunt accept me, then I don’t have to tell her! I have a really good family, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. -☀️🐶

[agentargus]

Finally an updated list of OCs and NPCs!

Roanoke:

Agent Pru

Name: Public Relations Unit (P.R.U.)

Aliases: Prudence Jane Doe, Pru, formerly Prototype Unit

Position: Public Relations, Press Secretary,

Mentor: Agent Ginger Ale, Agent Succubus

FC: Daphne Groeneveld (formerly Moriah Poppy)

Technical Officer Alvinne

Name: Erik Winchester Gibson

Aliases:

Position: Archivist Apprentice, cyber-intelligence

Mentor: Agent Archivist, Former Agent Alvinne

FC: Jade Puget

Former Agent Alvinne

Name: Sybelle Blanche

Position: Sensitive (position since made obsolete, responsibilities changed when code name was passed down.)

Mentor: Lilith

FC: Judith Roberts

Washington Avenue Project:

Agent Umbriel

Name: Dara Hadassah Daochin

Aliases:

Position: Space-time field agent

Mentor: Former Agent Nova

FC: Helen Lasichanh

Technical Officer Abali

Name: Amira Alya Albarado

Position: Interdimensional communications

Mentor: Former Agent Nova

FC: Janelle Monae

Statesman:

Agent Agave

Name: Melinda Margarita Medina-Tomas

Aliases: Meli, former Miss Teen Roseville

Position: intelligence-based field agent

Mentor: Agent Champagne

FC: Alexa Penavega

Repubblica Dei Lupi

Agent Dante Alighieri

Name: Padre Vitus Michaelangelo Xaviero

Aliases: Professor X.

Position: Head

Mentor: Former Agent Dante Alighieri

FC: Al Pacino

Agent Virgil

Name: Gemma Selena Angelini

Aliases: Gem, Virge

Position: Head quartermaster, head of technology department

Mentor: Nicholas Flammel

FC: Victoria Cabello

Agent Cesare

Name: Simona Julia Lombardo

Position: Werewolf ambassador, senior field agent

Mentor: Former Agent Cesare

FC: Marisa Tomei

Agent Pantalone

Name: Silvano Giuseppe Bilal Albarado III

Aliases: Papa

Position: Undead specialist, senior field agent

FC: Pharrell Williams

Agent Colombina

Name: Giuliana Maria Argenti

Aliases: Giu, Giu-Giu

Position: field agent

Mentor: Agent Pantalone

FC: Christina Ricci

Agent Alichino

Name: Dante Feliciano Argenti

Position: Field medic

Mentor: Agent Pantalone, Agent Virgil

FC: Davey Havok

Other:

Name:Ana Paula Argenti

FC: Olivia Hussey

Name: Unknown

Aliases: Il Dottore

FC: Brian Cox

Name: Andrew Lawrence Rees

FC: Robert Englund

Name: Unknown

Aliases: Ted, Teddy Bear

FC:Gerard Butler

Name: Battle-Integrated Laser Lifeform Intelligence Experiment (B.I.L.L.I.E.) #J-03

Aliases: Billie, Billie Joe Adams

FC: Bryan Dechart (formerly Ash Stymest)

[sleeppaw]

My HG Headcanons

The Morphlings from District 6 are named Jessica Grimes and Gear Robinson.

Glimmer’s surname is St. Laurent, while Marvel’s surname is Angolume. Cato’s surname is Harris, and Clove’s is Johnson. Rue’s surname is Reid, and Thresh’s is Jackson. Foxface (Finch) has the surname O’Callaghan. The District 9 male Tribute is named Basil Donovan, and the female Tribute from 9 is named Rosie Carmichael. The boy with the injured leg from District 10 is named Eric Schmeichel. The Career Tribute from 4 who died on the first day is named Proteus Attenborough. The girl who was killed on the first night was called Scarlett O’Neill. The girl who was stung to death is named Cora Whittaker, and the District 3 boy is named Nickolas Lovelace. Nickolas’ District Partner is named Electra Musk, while the District 5 male was named Thomas Nelson. District 6′s male tribute was named Stanier Vonheli, while the female tribute was named Penelope Roosa. District 7′s Tributes were named Ash Olivic and Naomi Matthews. District 8′s male was named Yarn Oglivily. Finally District 10′s female Tribute was named Belle Cox.

District 6′s Tributes are sometimes either named after famous astronauts, cosmonauts, sailors or engineers. One Tribute from District 6 was even named after an airfield! This can extend to surnames.

The District 12 Tributes from the 73rd Hunger Games were named Violet and Canary

Titus was killed in the 66th Hunger Games.

The 72nd Hunger Games was won by a Tribute from District 8 named Deniece Jansson, while the 73rd Hunger Games was won by District 2 named Mars Caesar.

The desert Arena of the 69th Hunger Games was won by a girl from District 1 named Aphrodite Boredaux

The 72nd Hunger Games was the one with the Maces, and it was based on a Medieval Castle.

The 73rd Hunger Games Arena was originally a cityscape based on the “Roaring 20′s”. However, the Gamemakers created a series of Earthquakes

Deniece was the Victor who had the Training Score of “3″

Several Tributes who appeared in the Games were named after deceased Tributes (There have been three female Tributes from District 8 named Taffeta, and District 6 had two male Tributes named Stuart: In the 1st Hunger Games and the 41st Hunger Games) The only exceptions had been Rocky and Titus, as their names have been born by one Tribute each.

The other two District 12 Tributes who was in the Second Quarter Quell with Haymitch and Maysilee were named Flare (female) and Tostig (Male).

The first four Victors were named Edgar, Virgil, Ginny and Horsa. By the time the Fifth Hunger Games took place, three of the four Victors were male. Ginny was the only female Victor at that point. By the time the 13th Hunger Games took place, there were exactly six male and six female Victors.

The “Careers” nickname didn’t come along until the 12th Hunger Games, but it was used as early as the 4th Hunger Games (Horsa had dubbed the Districts 1,2 and 4 Tributes in those Games as “The Careers” as he joked that they could have a Career as a Victor.)

District 10′s Tributes were sometimes named after livestock items (Examples include Horsa, which means horse, and Dolly)

Some Tributes were known for their mischief