#we're gonna call this story....

[creatorofuniverses]

Gt July Day 24 – Memory

Catching up quickly now! (I actually had this written a couple of days ago, but wanted to post things in order.) Decided to do more with Tempo and the clockmaker, because in standard fashion this new story has taken over my imagination more than expected. Enjoy!

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“I’m off to the post office,” said the clockmaker.

This was, for all appearances, announced to an empty room. The living quarters above the clock shop were relatively small, the main room barely big enough for a bed, a dresser, a small kitchen area, and a couple of end tables. One of the end tables was dominated by a rather large dollhouse- it was mostly made of painted wood, though she had replaced the hinges and other metal detailing with some of her own work. The door swung open smoothly and quickly, as was demonstrated when Tempo rushed out of it and onto the little porch out front. “I want to come!” the tiny clockwork man announced, sounding as if he ought to be out of breath, though of course he didn’t really breathe.

“Absolutely not,” the clockmaker responded. She didn’t so much as look over, instead busying herself fitting a number of small boxes into a relatively large cloth bag. “I’ve a busy day, and I can’t be stopping every two minutes to explain you to somebody.”

The enchanted metal making up Tempo’s face pulled down into a frown. “That’s not my fault,” he replied, rather sulky. “I didn’t ask to come into the world as a six-inch-tall amalgamation of animated clockwork.”

The clockmaker nearly replied that she hadn’t asked for that either, but thought that might be a bit cruel and refrained. Instead she said, “Technically, you’re not quite six inches,” which only made Tempo sulk harder. “And my decision is final. I’ve just got too much to do today, I’m sorry.”

Tempo didn’t reply, his little metal arms crossed and his face tilted away, so the clockmaker just sighed. She turned and stepped into the small washroom off of the main room, intending to freshen up a bit before going out into the world.

Once she was out of sight, Tempo turned his head and stared at the bag full of packages.

It was dreadfully tempting. Tempo wasted barely a moment deciding before he swiveled on his heel and ran across the porch, launching himself over the railing at the far end. He landed lithely on the human bed beyond, his slight weight barely making a dent in the covers, and caught his balance with a bit of wide-eyed flailing before continuing his dash. He scrambled up and into the bag of packages, sliding to the bottom mere seconds before the clockmaker stepped back out into the room.

She stopped, noting Tempo’s absence, and at the bottom of the bag her tiny clockwork creation tried to stay still. He couldn’t help the turning of his gears, or the ticking of the clock in his chest, but he was hoping the cloth would be enough to muffle it. “Tempo?” she asked. She moved towards the dollhouse, endeavoring to look inside. The curtains Tempo had put up in the windows kept her from getting a good view on anything except the edges of some miniature furniture.

The clockmaker sighed again. Knowing Tempo, he was probably pouting up in the attic. Coming to life magically as he had, it was like he’d skipped childhood and gone straight into teenage-dom. She was sure she’d no idea what to do with him. Standing again, she said, “I’ll be back in a few hours,” and, picking up the package bag none the wiser, headed downstairs.

The quiet, dim sanctuary of her shop and studio was a brief respite before she stepped out into the bright bustle of the city. Between the natural fog and the industrial steam rising from most buildings, the sun wasn’t exactly out, but it made its presence known by diffusing everything with an almost painfully fluorescent glow. The stone and brick of the buildings nearly shone. People bustled along, the occasional auto rumbling down the cobbles, and the clockmaker adjusted her hat and set off at a good clip towards the post office.

The post office itself was a large, blocky building, an old standby in this part of the city, but it was well upkept and even more well used. People flowed in and out between the stone arches and columns making up the building’s façade, and once inside, the sound of footsteps along the polished wood floors and hushed conversation made a constant backdrop to the sight of visitors and clerks bustling back and forth.

In the bag, Tempo could hear all of this but couldn’t see any of it, which he thought was a real shame. He didn’t want to risk getting found out by trying to climb up, however, so he remained huddled at the bottom of the bag as he had been.

The clockmaker angled towards a clerk’s window at the backmost corner of the long, polished counter. Fewer people went all the way back here, and besides, the clerk knew her well enough. A slim, rather peaky man, he looked up and gave her a genuine smile as she approached. “Ah, Miss Lorelei,” he greeted her. “Welcome in.”

“Thanks, Thomas,” the clockmaker replied. She set her bag full of packages on the counter with a huff. “Need all these sent off, they’re already addressed,” she informed him, digging out her coin purse for the postage.

“Excellent.” Thomas rummaged around in the bag, delicately pulling out and stacking little boxes wrapped in brown paper and neatly addressed in pen. As Lorelei set down the coins on his counter, he asked, “Need the bag back? I can get everything unloaded quickly if you like.”

Lorelei waved a hand. “No need, I don’t need to be carrying it all around town. I’ll be back in a couple hours to pick it up, if that’s alright?” Thomas nodded, and with a brief nod in return she said, “Right then, I’m off. See you in a bit.” She left, bustling back out of the busy post office, and Thomas got back to meticulously organizing the packages.

Which were serving as cover for Tempo, cover that was quickly dwindling. Tempo realized with a smidge of self-directed ire that he hadn’t actually thought of a plan for this part. Getting out and about was all well and good, but what was he to do now?

Before he could decide, a hand reached in and grabbed him instead of the package next to him.

Tempo soon found himself held in front of a large face sporting an expression of outright surprise, which he was sure was mirrored in his own metallic countenance. Slender, knobby fingers held him by the middle, his legs and tailcoat both hanging over empty space, and Tempo braced his hands on Thomas’s index finger as he cracked a sideways little smile. “Ah,” the clockwork man began. “I, erm, don’t suppose you’d be willing to forget you ever saw me?”

Thomas’s watery blue eyes blinked. “Unfortunately not,” he replied, the admission sounding like it came automatically while the (metaphorical) gears turned in his head. “I’m afraid this incident is likely written indelibly in my memory.”

“Bugger,” said Tempo.

“What are you?” Thomas asked, tilting his hand back a bit to look Tempo over. “Are you one of Miss Lorelei’s creations?”

A small huff came from Tempo – purely for show, as he didn’t actually breathe – who couldn’t rightly deny that. He was, but, “I’m more than that!” he protested. “Bit more than just clockwork here, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile. “I had, actually,” he teased gently in return. He set Tempo on the counter, watching in fascination as the little metal man got his balance. “Though you do seem to be mostly clockwork, I will say.” Having a clock instead of a chest rather gave that away, though his deduction earned him a withering look from those tiny glass eyes. “I’m guessing you’re not supposed to be in one of these boxes Miss Lorelei wants mailed out, then?”

“Absolutely not,” Tempo answered, little mouth twisted in disgust and offense. The thought of being sent through the mail sounded horrible.

“Right,” said Thomas. He began thinking through the alternatives, and the conclusion he drew was more than a bit amusing. “And I suppose Miss Lorelei meant to leave you here at the post office, then, despite you not being mail?”

At that Tempo froze, before trying his hand at looking aloof. It only mostly worked. “Not… as such…” he was forced to reply.

Thomas’s smile grew. This little clockwork… person, whatever he was, was endearing despite its best efforts. It wouldn’t hurt anything to let the tiny automaton stick around. “Well then,” said Thomas, “I suppose you’ll just have to wait here until Miss Lorelei returns for her bag.” The clerk began unloading the packages again, though he was respectful enough to set them on a part of the counter well away from Tempo.

Tempo sighed and looked around. There really wasn’t another option- the clockmaker would come back eventually, and it wasn’t as if he had another plan for getting home. He hadn’t even rightly seen the way they’d come. “Alright,” he grudgingly admitted. At least from up on the counter he could have his fill of seeing the real world- the post office was busy, and big, and bright. It was somewhere new, and that was worth it, he supposed.

Thomas watched the morose little clockwork man for a few minutes before taking pity on him and asking, “Ever seen the mail get stamped before?”

Tempo turned, curiosity alight in his copper face. “No,” he honestly replied.

Thomas smiled. “Want to help me with it?”

As it turned out, Tempo liked spending an afternoon at the post office.

[nyaskitten]

So how old was the First Spinjitsu Master when he invented Spinjitsu? Because we see him use it in the Legend of Nyad, and the Keepers, as well as Imperium Source Dragon, refer to him by that name. Was Spinjitsu something he created in the First Realm??? Was he like 10 when he made it???

[caluupin]

neuvi is meeting his peepaw rn

[louisferrignojr]

tbh im personally tired of shitty parents and shitty families drama like can one (1) person on this show have normal parents who are normal and nice. yes i had to say normal twice. it needs emphasising.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

the doctor isnt neurodivergent or autistic or adhd or nonbinary or genderqueer or asexual. what the doctor is, is Not From Here

[novadreii]

new deadpool movie is just. hey, i'm deadpool, and i'm breaking the 4th wall! every 4 seconds! also: here's a vague critique of a Big Corporate Bad. oh and a meme. you like that, don't you? isn't that funny? are you laughing harder than you've ever laughed in your life, you fuck? are you pissing yourself laughing???

[reborrowing]

dust prince, part two

(prev) (next) hi sorry this is a bit later than intended, I agreed to make something irl that’s taking more of my freetime than expected and also my body might be kind of falling apart, so, priorities, you know? enjoy!

-

> You offer him your hand so he can climb out.

A good part of you thinks this is an absolutely terrible idea, sticking your hand out for an unknown, probably fae creature…but the little guy does look genuinely terrified and you would hate for him to drown in your dinner after he’s already spoiled it.

He teeters unsteadily, initially backing away from you as best as he can, broth pooling around his bare feet. You stop with your hand stretched into an open palm where he can easily reach you. 

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you,” you say softly. 

Relief flashes across his face and he pulls himself onto your palm with shaking hands. He glances back to the bowl, then up towards the rafter and he collapses with a whimper, probably taking stock of just how bad that fall could have been.

“Thank you, I - I apologize, I was…thank you,” he says breathlessly.

He speaks with a familiar accent, one that mirrors the upper class speech that you grew up surrounded by. If it’s not an affectation or some sort of trick, the little man is a long way from home—you’re certainly no local.

He doesn’t look like any sort of noble merchant. He doesn’t look quite like anything you’ve ever seen, not during your travels and certainly not at home. He has a very human face, now that he’s wiped it clean, save for gently pointed ears that are no more exotic than your average elf’s. Arguably you make for a more exotic figure, with your devil’s eyes and slender tail. He’s dressed in a crudely-made tunic and, were it not for his size, would look like any number of beggars you’ve passed in your time. 

At least, one who’s had an exceptionally rough day at the soup kitchen. 

“You say something, Red?”

Your barbarian companion turns back from their critique of a random brunette dwarf. They notice you staring at your messy hand and lean forward on the table, their eyes lighting up when they catch sight of the tiny figure. 

“Hey, what is that? A sprite? Let me get a look,” they say. 

They reach towards him before you can answer. The mysterious little stranger recoils back against your hand as he notices Mikko reaching for him.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added!): @da3dm @whumpinthepot @whumpsday @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

[gloriousmonsters]

this has no basis in anything but i can't shake the idea of ganondorf just being an incredibly reticent teenager (going along with my now-stuck headcanon of him being very isolated as a kid) who spent a ton of time just sort of observing people and absorbing information, who then around the age of stepping up to more active/public kingship was like 'okay I've done that stage, time to sink all those skill points i accumulated into charisma, manipulation and theatrics' which he views as a perfectly normal progression but seemed kind of sudden and bizarre from the outside. what I'm saying is that the original form of Nabooru's 'i don't know you any more, you are not the man I knew' was 'dude what the fuck weren't you an introvert'

[savage-rhi]

Fuschia/Magenta?

[navree]

me @ you calling Lucerys boring! 😆 come on, he's just a kid! cutting out aemond's eye was bad, i agree, but i don't think he was as bland as everyone says. his imposter syndrome in 8 and 10 was interesting to watch at least. he was a brave little boy.

I mean I don't really see anything brave about bringing a knife to a fight he not only had fuck all to do with but where he was clearly at fault (Aemond did nothing wrong, he tamed a free dragon, Baela and Rhaena get a pass because they're grieving but Jace and Luke had no business being involved and certainly no business escalating into 4 v 1 violence against the clear cut victim), trying to literally murder someone because I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do when you stab a knife at someone's face but it's certainly not a warning shot, showing zero remorse for it at all, and at worse acting like a little snot when in the same room with your victim. The fact that Luke got away with this scot free (didn't he literally say "I didn't do anything" you boring little asshole you stabbed out someone's eye that is the opposite of not doing anything!) is an absolute travesty of justice that stains everyone involved (mostly Viserys and Luke but I'm not letting Rhaenyra "pls torture the ten year old stabbing victim until he tells me how he figured out that these white dark haired children aren't the sons of my black platinum blond husband" Targaryen off the hook either). Aemond could have died, not only from the initial wound, but from the myriad of infections or other issues that could have plagued him during the healing process. For God's sake, Viserys nicks himself on the Iron Throne and they have to lop off his arm, his infected injuries and their treatment have already made him pretty firmly decrepit by Driftmark, the fact that Aemond healed without any serious and lifelong and further damaging complication is a goddamn miracle. And even kids know that murder is bad, I'm pretty sure that if I were Lucerys's age and I tried to commit homicide I'd have to deal with some consequences.

And I'm sorry, but I call him boring because he is! They wrote a boring character! That's not on me for picking up on it, that's on the writers and the myriad choices they made that led to them severely underdeveloping several characters, most prominently Lucerys (Jace and Baela and Rhaena at least get another season of life to develop further, Luke gets four episodes and they knew that going in). This is a song I've been singing literally since the show was airing and it's not gonna change, cuz he's dead and therefore stuck with his boring character and complete lack of characterization.

Him being a kid is not a character trait, and it certainly doesn't make him more interesting anymore than, say, his eye color would. The impostor syndrome thing they kinda tried didn't really work because 1) it's not impostor syndrome if it's true, he's not a Velaryon and Vaemond was 99% in the right in that entire thing (I don't like him throwing out misogynistic slurs, you can point out that these aren't Velaryons but Strong bastards without stooping to calling Rhaenyra a whore, I hate men sometimes) 2) in episode 8 it exists for one single line and is not a driving force for him at all for the remainder of the episode to the point that it could be cut out and mean nothing, especially since that scene was only there to introduce adult Aemond and 3) it doesn't even make sense because the person who was set up as having issues with his lack of Velaryon heritage and Harwin being his father was Jace. Jace is the one who hears the rumors and clocks it early on in childhood, Jace is the one who is deeply affected by it to the point of bitterness towards his own mother, Jace is the one who grieves Harwin but also feels angry that he can't express it. All of that was set up as part of Jace's arc, not at all Luke's, who is literally set dressing up until he decides to commit criminal offenses in the middle of the night. And then time skip, and suddenly Jace is A-OK and Luke, who has shown no issue before now (or any personality at all) is slightly concerned about it for one line in episode 8 before going back to being a piece of cardboard until episode 10.

And I'll be honest, the second that scene came out in episode 10, I immediately saw it for what it was, which was a very obvious patch job. The writers were clearly aware that they had not given the viewers any reason at all to care about Luke one way or another, so we weren't going to feel a lot when Vhagar (deservedly, imo) munches on him. So they hastily added in this really heavy-handed scene of poor uwu soft boy Lukey who is so concerned with doing right and needs to blink up tearfully at Mommy and be her sweet boy and get little kisses to assuage his worries, so that we'd feel some emotion and then be said when he becomes the Jonah to Vhagar's whale. It just doesn't work because there was nothing for him before then and therefore I don't care, I just feel bad Rhaenyra.

Luke is a bland and boring character. That's not an attack, that's just what the writers did. They tried to cram too much into a ten episode season, literally twenty years of history, and it caused a lot of characterization problems for a lot of characters, particularly for the Team Black ones. And a consequence of that is that the character with the least amount of time for development got not development and no personality. He's a plank of wood, he's a platonic version of the sexy lamp trope; there's nothing there and he exists only for us to feel bad when the lamp is smashed. Seriously, name me five individual character traits that Lucerys has. He's a momma's boy, even though I'm not really sure that's a character trait but I'll give it to him, and I guess he's devoid of empathy, considering that he doesn't appear to feel literally any remorse for mutilating Aemond (seriously, is it like the Dothraki and "thank you"? does the word "sorry" not exist in Valyrian languages? you can't even send an apology gift basket or a note?). But he's not brave, as there is no scene that shows any bravery or courage, and he's not noble or kind or thoughtful because there's nothing that shows any of that, or anything that shows him being the opposite, cruel or cowardly or weak, because he's a basically a character who could be played by sticking a wig on a mop and waving it around. And any characterization of insecurity exists as something hamfistedly crowbarred in at the last minute in his final episode to try to manipulate the audience's emotions with less sensitivity than D&D trying to tug at our heartstrings by having Drogon try to nudge Dany awake after she's killed.

But there is a character that I do consider to be a brave little boy, though I regret to inform y'all that it is Not a fourteen year old with no depth or personality or written characterization whose main claim to fame is maiming a person without apology and then dying. Nah, the brave little boy title goes to post-Driftmark Aemond. Aemond, at ten, is delivered a life altering injury whose recovery was likely very slow and very painful, involved a lot of worry about whether he'd have to deal with infection or further risk of death, and had to relearn how to do literally everything now that he was half blind, and he did all of it. He survived, and he thrived. He relearned how to walk, how to balance, his spatial awareness. He learned how to fought and even became incredibly good at it, and maintained his bond with Vhagar, as well as trying to keep himself mentally sharp as well. He did all of that, despite the huge setback he was dealt with at age ten. That's brave, go Aemond.

[rhineposting]

saw someone unironically saying "rhinedottir fed nigredo to durin to make nigredo grow better and stronger because durin's stomach is actually nurturing like hummus 😊😊😊" god if you're up there can you revoke this person's rights to speak about rhinedottir, or any morally questionable girlboss for that matter. if you can't accept that a lady had her son swallow her other son whole then just move onto characters who are actually nice instead of rewriting the actually not so good characters to fit your imaginary narrative better.

[sonknuxadow]

they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it

[tellthemhowihopetheyshouted]

suprize song guesses for london night 2*:

mary's song x fifteen x the best day

87 & 89; boy on the football team; works as a bridge between the other two

they all have themes of growing up, specifically going from the first verse of mary -> best day -> fifteen -> last verse of mary would kick ass imo

it would also be chronological in like, life events

country taylor

story of us x us.

both talking to the muse about how they feel after the end of a relationship

ngl i just want her to say "🎸🥀🪦the story of🪦🥀🎸 ... u-uUh-uh-us"

the albatross x peace

i can't explain how this makes sense but like

"she's the death you chose / you're in terrible danger" with "the rain is always gonna come / if you're standing with me"

how in the ancient mariner (poem where the albatross motif comes from) the rain happening both with the wedding guest and the mariner after he kills the albatross

honestly i think peace works with a lot of things on ttpd/the anthology

FOR EXAMPLE

peace x ttpd x the prophecy

goes from warning the person you're still with -> warning the person you recently separated from -> realizing you need the warning more than they do

"give you my wild / give you a child" -> "you took my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one / people put wedding rings on" -> "don't want money / just someone who / wants my company"

like, ill give you everything i have (but some things are out of my control) to you said could handle that to no one wants to be with me, i don't want to be with me, get me out of the life i built for myself

or it could be like, ill give you everything i have (but some things are out of my control) to you said you'd give me everything too, you said you were forever about this (add in the chorus of ttpd) but instead you left, and no one else knows you like i do, what are YOU going to do now to i should have taken my own advice, they were right to leave, who would want me if the trade off is this life?

tl;dr: i love my monochromatic greyscale albums

loml also fits the theme but idk if she would do 4 songs in a mashup and also the story feels pretty strong imo with just those three

london boy

she's in london

i have no further evidence

closure x imgonnagetyouback

so according to google these are in the same key and now i want to teach myself guitar so i can mash them up myself because dear god

anyway 1. she hasn't played either of them and they're both like top 3 of their albums

they also happen to be the 2 sides of my last breakup and i just now realized that...

anyway, in closure the other person is being clingy and wants the breakup to be amicable so they can feel like a good person

and in imgonnagetyouback the speaker is being ,,clingy,, or like, thinking too much about a relationship that's over

(also the person in closure always seemed to me to be in a better place emotionally + was the one to break up where as the letter sender felt like they had an ulterior motive for contacting their ex)

SO, imgonnagetyouback is written by the person who got dumped and closure is the person who broke things off and they're writing about the same relationship

peace x clean

i don't really have a story for this but

"the rain came pouring / down when i was drowning / that's when i could finally breathe" and "the rain is always gonna come / if you're standing with me"

maybe like, clean is the aftermath, written by person A, and peace is written by person B warning person A. the rain being like, person B's sadness/baggage, but also serving as the method of escape for person A

like, the thing that is person B's biggest flaw was the way person A knew to run

a real if they show you who they are believe them type story, but mostly i just like both of the rain lines in the songs

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

everyone talks about the Looks between dream and hob in the 1789 scene as the biggest proof on reading that scene as shippy but i would like to put forward the fact that when hob goes to attack johanna's bodyguards he disables the one threatening dream first before he even considers the knife two inches away from his own throat

(he knows dream is an immortal of some description, but has no idea what the rules are on that. and hob can take a knife and survive, if he has to, but he's not risking it with dream)

[audiovisualrecall]

This is a start, anyway. Lots of research and work ahead.

[eri-pl]

Lord of the Rings as a reprise of the Silmarillion

Well ok, not a reprise in the sense of "same song, just with small tweaks" but as" same motifs, but in places where they fit much better and the whole thing is more [excuse me, I lack a word. Better? Happier? None of those fully fits]". Recapitualization? I think this is the more classical music term. But I like the word "reprise".

We have a character falling into fire with The Object, but this time it solves something, and still it's not perfect, poor little wretched creature, but it does accomplish something, as opposed to only removing something beautiful from anyone's reach.

We have a character challenging a Dark Lord to fight, but this time it worrks, it results in distraction, not destruction.

Someone asks Galadriel for her hair and nobody is a jerk about it.

A Man marries an Elf and they live peacefully, and so do their kids.

There is a quest and nobody makes any rush oaths (thanks Elrond!).

More of a stretch, but we have... This may be the fault of movies and fanart but I do see some vibe match: Frodo&Sam as Mae&Maglor (both have the Object; one jumps into water because loyalty; one [almost] jumps into fire). Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli have some 3C vibes (pretty guy with bow, Just A Guy, a guy associated with craftsy Aule-like stuff) but they are not jerks, very much not so. And blame the movies where Merry&Pippin are pranksters, and the fanon where Ambarussar are basically the Weasley twins, but. and Gandalf is cool, associated with fire and dies on a Balrog. But he comes back. And they all are good and succeed. (sorry, Boromir, I can't match you to the pattern, let's say this is your punishment for trying to take the Ring ;) )

I'm not saying it's all intentional on Tolkien's part, just that I see it there.

Yes, I do have some tropes that I obsess about, and this is not even a legit trope, I'm sorry.

I love this. I love this aestethics, or feeling, or whatever you call this, I love recontexttualization, I love when things change in repeat — it's a sad song butt we're gonna sing it anyway — I very much love a similar thing, which excuse me, but should be a trope, should be done more often but is not, the thing where there's a quote and it seems sad, depressing, hopeless even but then you learn the wider context and it's the opposite— and yes, surely there could be just a happy quote from the start but it would lack the moment when your brain goes "a-ha!!!" on it, and I love this moment, it is such a beautiful feeling. When things suddenly are revealed to be the opposite of what they seemed and it's a good thing. Why is this thing not a trope? Like, when people write books and chapter titles, mottos— why don't people do this?

(Like eucatastrophe but instead of "suddenly Eagles!" it's more of a "it's not what I thought it was", like a mental focus shift, a recognition. But it's always been there, not suddenly flew in. (No offense to the Eagles.)).

It's a sad song.

Untill you learn it was just a fragment.

And anyway how Lotr relates to the Silm in this way in some places… it is beautiful.