#yes brick made the costumes for em

[daisydazey]

There's something that makes me happy when thinking of the mutant maggots as the sailor guardians :D ( Sorry if Cameron looks too petite than he should be I don't draw him a lot🥲)

Mike: Sailor Moon

Cameron: Chibiusa

Zoey: Sailor Venus

Anne Maria: Sailor Mars

Jo: Sailor Uranus

Brick: Sailor Neptune

[thedemisedroyal]

Dangerous Betrayal | TVD/TO

The Vampire Diaries & The Originals

AU Story

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴!

• E S M E •

"Please, just make it stop!" The princess yelled in agony as she held her head. All the memories rushing through her mind, all the pain, all the hurt, everything bad she had done in her life ran through her head. But it was intensified by a trillion, this was on purpose, they wanted her in be pain.

Adara and Eila laughed manically, "Oh poor little baby, is something wrong?" Adara baby talked, chuckling in between. The princess yelled out, closing her eyes, trying to fight it, but she can't, she couldn't. The girl was consumed with guilt, making her walls around her mind tremble, they were weak, ready to fall down at the slightest of touch.

She had been tortured for years and years, after her mother banished her from the Void, they had sent her to Heaven. Her parents left her there as they hadn't finished their final punishment for their youngest daughter and child for her crimes. Until then, she would be tortured, just for laughs, just for entertainment.

"You know, for the Goddess of All Creation, you are weaker then I thought you would b-"

"Esme!" The Gilbert broke out of her thoughts, she fell into her head and she looked at the mirror in a weird angle, making her eyes shine like a golden-yellow. Making her the olden days, the years that started all of this. "Esme come on, we're gonna be late!" Elena shouted once more, the two, had school, as always, and were back into cheerleading, the younger twin seemed more willing to go then the oldest. But it made sense, things were different now.

Esme grabbed her bag and water,"Coming!" The middle child yelled, running out of her room and downstairs. "Let's get this show on the road." Esme mumbled under her breath, seeing her sister, not in her cheerleading costume.

• A U T H O R •

As time went on, Elena and Stefan had gotten much closer, dating now, which led to Esme of course threatening him if he didn't anything back to her sister. But all in all, Esme liked Stefan, trying to get close to figure out what he wanted in the end.

But days went by and she had met Damon as well, sensing he was also a vampire. But Jordan also noticed Damon looked at her with some sort of admiration, or maybe some sort of love. She had no idea was this was about, but she would definitely find out soon. As it was all too weird, now that her best friend, Caroline Forbes, was dating this Damon, who was eyeing her.

Right away she didn't exactly like him, he was a cocky and arrogant man who liked to stir up trouble. For instance, when Elena had a little dinner party with Bonnie and Stefan, Caroline and Damon had arrive unannounced, soon the blonde pulled the younger twin downstairs to join the fun. Which was a very awkward introduction between the raven haired and brunette.

It was even more awkward when the oldest Salvatore brother talked about their past live affair. Who was named Katherine, Elena had informed her sister on the love triangle, whilst the two watched and dried dishes when everyone else was in the living room. Then he walked in, and then Elena left the two alone, awkwardly.

During the time, Damon and Esme got to talk a bit, trying to get to know each other, but the girl felt very uncomfortable as Damon had this weird look in his eyes, a softness, with a genuine smile on his face which was rare for him in his case. Luckily, Bonnie had came in to ask if she needed more help, as Esme was taking quite a bit of time in the kitchen.

But that was awhile ago, and now it is the day of the football game. And the girl needed to be on her game for the cheerleaders and her best friends. Though it didn't help with the Tyler and Jeremy fight, and Stefans cover nearly blown with the cut on his hand, with Elena as witness.

• E S M E •

"God guys, I'll be back, I left my jacket and water in the car." Esme rubbed her forehead, Caroline and Bonnie nodded, the Gilbert quickly ran out the field and into the parking lot. The game was to start soon, and if she wasn't present soon the Forbes girl would have her ass. Esme quickly opened up the trunk, grabbing her maroon colored jacket and her big water bottle, that's as surprisingly still cool after being left in the car.

She swiftly turned around, gasping as she was face to face with Damon Salvatore. "You scared me. W-What are you doing here?" The Gilbert questioned, Damon looked over his shoulder quickly, then putting his hand to the side of his mouth,"I'm hiding from Caroline." He whispered. Esme quirked a brow,"And why is that?" She playfully whispered as well.

"I needed a break. She talks more then I can listen." Damon widened his eyes for a second. "That could be a sign." Esme nodded her head, kind of uncomfortable. "Well, she's awfully young".

Esme narrowed her eyes at the Salvatore,"Not much younger than you are." She responded back, Damon chuckled a bit. "I don't see it going anywhere in the bigger picture. I think she's drive me crazy." Damon spoke, Esme rose her brows and tilted her head a bit. "Caroline does have some really annoying traits, but we've been best friend since the first grade and that means something to me." The Gilbert defensively spoke, sternness in her manner.

The girl watched as something switched in the raven haired man,"Duly noted. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. That's not my intention." Damon talked in the soothing voice, as if he was trying to persuade her. But the girl didn't fall for it, Damon was already on her bad side,"Yes, it is. Otherwise you wouldn't put an alternate meaning behind everything you say."

Damon smiled, shaking his head,"You're right. I do have other intentions, but so do you." Esme folded her arms across chest,"Really?" She questioned, wanting to see where he was going with this. Damon hummed as a response,"I seem 'em. You want me." Esme scoffed, feeling offended,"Excuse me?"

"I get to you. You find yourself drawn to me. You think about me when you don't want to think about me. I bet you even dreamed about me." Damon looked straight into Esme's eyes, the girl immediately knew what he was trying to do. "Compulsion." The voice in the back of her head reappeared for her once again. The girl was confused, what was this little voice, and most importantly, what the hell was Damon trying to play at here.

She snapped back into reality when she heard his voice once again speak,"And right now.. You want to kiss me." Esme had this emotionless look on her face, though it was pure anger, Damon smiled as he succeeded or he thought. He slowly leaned in with a smirk, Esme looked at his lip, before her face was painted with a scowl, and without thinking, Esme raised her hand and slapped him hard.

"What the hell?" Esme scoffed, glaring at him,"I don't know what game your trying to play here. Maybe trying to mess with Stefan, I don't know. But I don't want to be a part of it. And I don't know what happened in the past, but let's get one thing straight." Damon was in complete shock, Esme locked eyes with the man, who was holding his cheek,"I am not a pawn." Esme glared once more before tightly holding her water and jacket and walking away.

She didn't even realize what she had just done, she had blown her own cover...

• S T E F A N •

The blonde haired vampire watched as Matt walked away, feeling slightly more happy and comfortable with the complicated situation between him, Elena and Matt, but it was short-lived as he heard someone clapping behind him. He swiftly turned around, to see his older brother leaning against the brick wall.

"Isn't that nice? Stefan joins the team, makes a friend." Damon announced, pure sarcasm out of his tone of voice. "It's all so,'Rah, Rah, Go Team, Yeah'!" Damon raised his arm in a fist bump, clearly mocking his brother. Stefan shook his head, turning his body to leave,"Not tonight. I'm done with you." As he turned he was met face to face with Damon, who used his vampire-speed. Damon tilted his head, "Nice trick with Esme. Let me guess— vervain in her bracket? Necklace or ring maybe?"

Stefan was confused, he never gave the girl any vervain, only Elena. But he made sure to not show any unsureness, as he didn't even know why he couldn't compel her. "I admit, I was a bit surprised. It been a while since anyone could resist my compulsion." Damon lifted his eyes, throwing a innuendo in there. Stefan kept a cold, and stern face, unfazed,"Where'd you get it?" The older brother asked, "Does it matter?" Stefan started to walk away, going around his brother.

"Guess I could just seduce her the old-fashioned way. Or I could just..eat her." Damon cockily spoke, knowing that caught his brothers attention. Stefan stopped, turning around, confidence in his body,"No, you're not gonna hurt her." He slowly walked towards him as Damon turned around to face him.

"No?" Damon arrogantly asked,"Because deep down inside there is a part of you that feels for her. I was worried that you had no humanity left inside of you; that you may have actually become the monster that you pretend to be." Stefan with confidence, knowing he wouldn't hurt her, not if she looks the way she is.

Damon squinted his eyes,"Who's pretending?" Stefan looking him in the eyes,"Then kill me." Damon smiled,"Well I'm— I'm tempted." He looked up, shaking his head as he looked as if he was deciding. "No, you're of. You've had lifetimes to do it, and yet, here I am. I'm still alive. And there you are. You're still haunting me. After one hundred and forty five years. Katherine is dead, and so is Natasha. And you hate me because you love her, and you torture me because you still do. And that, my brother, is your humanity." The two had a tense stare off, but it was quickly interrupted by the annoying douche, Mr. Tanner.

"Salvatore!" The blonde haired man turned around with a stern expression, the teacher walked towards him with open arms,"What the hell? We've got a game to play!" He yelled, frustrated, Damon looked at the teacher with an idea popping in her head. "If that's my humanity..the. What's this?" He gulped, flashing a quick and sarcastic smile towards Stefan.

Then using his vampire-speed to Mr. Tanner, his vampire fad slowly unraveling, his fangs then digging themself into Mr. Tanner's neck. He yelled in pain,"No!" Stefan yelled, seeing as his brother slowly drained the teacher for all he was worth. Then just like that, he was dead, Damon turned around, blood all over his mouth, dripping to his chin, his vampire face still out,"Anyone, any time, any place." Stefan blinked in shock, this was going to be a lot more tougher.

• E S M E •

Dread...that's what filled the Gilbert body as she was in the field with the rest of the cheerleader, practicing. Until that emotion she knew all to well filled her body, it nearly paralyzed her when she felt the sense of death. She could smell it in the air, feel it in her finger tips, taste it on her tongue.

She held her head as a pain rushed through her body, she walked away from the group, though no one noticed, luckily. Then aloud ringing filled her head, making her groan, she opened her eyes, but shut them immediately when the lights hit her. "Fuck!" Jordan clenched her eyes in pain, she then moved further away from her group, feeling a sudden breeze of wind hit her face and body. She opened her eyes as she heard no one, and felt no light on her.

"What in the?" Jordan looked around her new surrounding, seeing she wasn't even on school soil anymore. No, she was in the empty park of Mystic Falls, far away from the school. She then felt a rush of power surge through her veins, Jordan gasped as she lifted up her hands to see scarlet red flares dancing around her hand.

"What's happening to me?"

[knives-out20]

The One With The Fight - Chandler Bing x Male!Reader - FRIENDS

Fandom: FRIENDS (1994-2004)

Pairing: Chandler Bing x Male!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers For Season 2 Episode 21,

Notes:  Okay, Listen, At Least I’m Giving You Guys SOMETHING, Here!

You walked down the sidewalk and over to Central Perk, the only thing in mind being your need for coffee. You reached the coffee house and were about to go inside, when you noticed something- or, some people, more like.

Two guys with Ross, and your boyfriend, Chandler in the middle of the street.

You furrowed your eyebrows, sticking to the red brick wall of the building beside Central Perk, watching as crowds started to form, pointing and mumbling at the four men. “The hell is he doing-?" You mumbled, only then realizing their fighting stances. Jeez, someone took Street Fighter a little too seriously.

"Alright, come on, man! Let's do this, already!" One of the men, wearing a blue denim coat, exclaimed.

"Before I forget, are we hitting faces?" Ross asked, raising a finger, Chandler and him exiting their previous fighting stances. If he knew you were there, he would've seen you roll your eyes at the fact that he was asking this right before a fight. 

The other man, wearing a leather coat, spoke up. “Of course we're hitting faces! Why wouldn't you hitting faces?" He asked.

"Well, because I have to work on Monday. I have a big presentation." There goes Ross, and the weird way he says 'presentation'.

You cringed just by hearing him say it.

The denim coat guy spoke up, turning to his friend. “You know, I got to show this apartment, tomorrow. And, y'know, this whole no-faces thing might not be a bad idea.”

"...Okay," the second guy spoke up again, "nothing from the neck up.”

"Alright" Ross nodded, the four of them resuming their fighting stances.

"Or the waist down-" he spoke up again. When the denim guy looked at him, he said "Dana's ovulating" having the denim guy smile and ask "oh, really? You guys trying again?", Leather coat guy giving a shy "yea.”

"God, no neck up or waist down? What kind of weak fight IS this?" You muttered, crossing your arms. “Strictly the middle part?"

Chandler made Ross turn to face him. So let me just get this straight- so we're, uh, strictly talking about the middle?"

You smiled a Chandler saying the same thing you did, but it got cut off when the guy in the leather coat shoved Ross with a come on!", Ross yelling a "hey!" back.

The four of them regained their fighting stances again, Ross yelling "you want some of this, huh?" as Chandler jumped a little. “You want a piece of this, huh? I'm standing here!"

As Ross was yelling, Chandler finally caught sight of you. “(Y/n)?" He wheezed, eyes going wide.

You pursed your lips, giving him a slight wave. “Chandler" you returned, chuckling. “Got yourself in quite the situation, baby" you grinned, glancing at the two strangers.

"W- I'm- they're bullies!" Chandler pouted.

"'Bullies'? Chandler, you're full grown men. We call them 'dickbags' now" you snorted, tilting your head.

Chandler glanced at Ross and back to you, shrugging. “Aren't you gonna come help us, (Y/n/n)?" He asked, groaning when you replied with "three against one isn't all that fair, Channy.” He then noticed two guys sneaking their hands onto a hat behind the two guys Ross and him were about to fight.

Wait, is that Chandler's hat?

"Hey, hey!" Chandler regained the three guys' attention, pointing at the two thieves by you. “Those guys are taking our stuff!" He yelled, a hand on Ross' shoulder.

"Where?" Ross called, nodding at you, then seeing the two men rush by you.

"Get out of the way, look out!" The man in the denim coat yelled, leading his friend, Ross, and Chandler in a chase after the two thieves. 

You grabbed Chandler's hand right as he passed, following them in a run.

"(Y/n), what-?"

"What? And just let them take your hat? No way, honey" you scoffed, tugging him to speed up. You followed the men down the street, letting go of Chandler's hand so that you could push your hair out of your face.

Chandler was more focused on running, so he didn't see the jump rope he was about to trip over.

"Chandler, watch out!" You called, but it was too late. You watched as Chandler tripped over a little girls jump rope, stopping by him immediately. “Chandler, oh my god-" you panted, kneeling down.

"Go, go get 'em" Chandler coughed, weakly turning to look at you as he lay on the pavement."Go on, baby. Go kick their asses and get my kets.”

You exhaled, nodding and speeding after the men, past the two guys with Ross and grabbing the back collar of one of the thieve's shirt. 

The sudden half stopped the second thief, giving that enough time for Ross to knock him in the face.

You grunted, bringing a clean swing to the guy you had a hold on. You grabbed the hat when he dropped it, kicking him in his legs and punching him across the face again. You turned to the one Ross got, kicking him in the stomach.

"Nice shots, (Y/n)" Ross panted, turning to you.

You panted, watching as the two guys finished the thieves off. “Thanks. Lets go get Chandler.”

***

You walked at Chandler's side as he lead the five of you into Central Perk, gently touching his lip to see if he was bleeding

"God! That was- that was amazing, that was incredible! You guys- you guys kicked butt" Ross praised, sitting on the couch.

"Us? What about you guys?" The guy in the denim coat asked, lightly punching your shoulder. “Your mysterious friend here really had that first guy's ass. Man, you really gave it to ol' mister clean back there, he was a big guy.”

You nodded smiling softly s you helped Chandler sit down.

"Yea, he was, wasn't he?" Ross asked, turning to Chandler.

Chandler smiled mockingly. “Yea, I wouldn't know, having missed everything, like my boyfriend kicking ass for me" he hissed, holding your hand. Chandler glanced up at you, "thanks again, for stepping in, by the way.”

You smiled down at him, "I'd fight anyone in the world for you. And don't be so hard on yourself, any one of you guys could've tripped over that little girl's jump rope.”

The guy in the leather coat turned to you, then the guy in the denim coat did the same."Wait, so you wouldn't-" "hold on, your boyfriend?"

You raised your eyebrows, holding one of Chandler's hands in both of yours. “I'm very coordinated, or so I've been told. And yes, boyfriend. Is there a problem with that?" You asked, gaze turning cold. You tilted your head as the two men shook their heads, looking scared of what you'd do to them. You smiled, "good.”

"So, listen, are we...?" Ross turned to the two men in coats. “Guys, are we, uh, are we okay here?"

"Oh, they better be okay, there. I just whooped a guys ass for all your keys and jewelry in Chandler's hat" you scoffed, bring his hand to your lips for a quick kiss, catching Chandler's smile on his face when you did.

The man in the leather nodded, as did the man in the denim. “We're okay" the latter told, Ross mumbling "alright.”

Chandler forced a chuckle, "okay, so can I have my hat back?"

After a couple beats of silence, the man in the denim said "no", shaking his head.

"Huh," Chandler nodded, turning away. In a flash, he was out of his seat, grabbed his hat off the man's head and ran behind the couch, but fell.

You jumped up and went around to check on him. “Idiot" you sighed lovingly, getting on top of him and hoisting him up by his shoulders. “Hey, Ross, help me bring Chandler back up?"

***

"Look at her" Phoebe said, all seven of you turning your attention to Monica in a costume behind the counter of the diner she worked at.

"Hi, Monica!" Chandler chirped, having you giggle and lightly shove him. He had a window seat and you sat beside him with his arm around you, Joey beside you and Rachel, Ross and Phoebe across from you.

Monica looked up, with her fake, pink glasses and puffy, blonde wig. Her jaw dropped when she saw all of you, and you saw her groan in embarrassment.

"Hey, nice boobs!" Phoebe called, as the rest of you waved at her.

"Guys, guys, check this out" Chandler whispered, turning to the napkin holders. He input a coin at the top, and pressed one of the buttons on the bottom, swinging his head back over to the counter when the familiar beginning of YMCA start playing.

"Oh my god-" you cackled, turning to look for Monica through the legs of the other workers, who were all up on the counter, already starting to dance. Chandler, you, and the others all smiled and started nodding to the beat, Chandler's grip around you pulling you closer to himself. You laughed with the other when Monica got up at the end of the counter and danced in a mediocre fashion, which was worth it because of the ringing of a beautiful sound in your ears- Chandler's laughter. You knew of no sound better than Chandler's laughing, so you turned around to catch a glimpse of his smile.

He nodded at you. “What?"

"Nothing, just..." you slowly licked your lips. “Just wanted to see you smile.”

"Aww, aren't you cute" Chandler cooed, leaning in and softly kissing you. “I love you, (Y/n). And, seriously, thanks for coming with Ross 'n' me earlier.”

"No prob, baby. I love you too, Chandler.”

Chandler gazed at you for a while longer, breaking the heartfelt moment when he dumped a handful of coins on the table. He winked at you as the group all dove in to take as many coins as they could, sure to use them to make Monica dance more using the machine. You joined in too, desperate for more of Chandler's happiness.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 12

It was decided then that the Talon - Dick Grayson - should accompany Jason to the Wayne Manor. The Oracle has decided that being the only one without 'attachment', i.e. normal people's identity that could be used against them.

The pretty little kitten's name, Jason eventually found out, was Tim Drake. And he would be providing one of the exit strategies. His home, apparently, was right next to the Wayne Manor. His words about knowing of losing parents through violence only made sense after Jason googled the name, and discovered the news article on the kidnapping and murder of Jack and Janet Drake, Tim's parents. It was apparently quite a news back then, only Jason never heard of it since he was already residing in Eth

He was right when he guessed - mostly through his manner and speech - that Tim Drake was rich. The Drake House - although smaller than the Wayne Manor - was still bigger than most homes in the suburbs that Jason knew of. Plus there was a massive yard, sky-high fence, several garages, a greenhouse, and a garden.

And then there were the tunnels.

Tim said that according to the Waynes' side of the architecture, the tunnels tend to lead to nowhere, and were not sturdy enough to be explored. Tim, however, had explored the tunnels when he was really little - as in ten-year-old 'little' and discovered that most were natural tunnels and have exits.

"I hope you've explored with someone who's like, my size." Jason reminded him just as they laid down the plans to him.

Tim glared at him top-to-bottom and then glared at Dick.

"Yeeeah... he's definitely not my size." Jason pointed out. Dick might have been muscular, but more on the lean side. Jason was built like a brick house and a few inches taller and wider than Dick.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't need to squeeze through anything when I went," Dick told him.

"I'll map the dimensions of the exits, anyway, just in case. We went with cameras back then." Tim said. "And now that we've covered the exits, how about the entrance? Would you rather walk right up there and say something along the line of, 'hey, I'm here to deliver the next Wayne heir. And by the way, you owed Talia Al Ghul some child support, but on the bright side, you won't need to pay 'em anymore,'?"

"Yeah, that sounded like a really quick way to get into an altercation." Jason retorted.

"I advise you, Tim, to take them there. Sort of like safety in numbers scenario - whatever happened, the Waynes won't be able to... make Jason and Damian 'disappear' because someone else already knew of their presence in Gotham." Barbara advised. "I've put the articles on stand-by, and shall have Vicky Vale start sniffing around by one week."

"We've got Grayson here as an extra pair of watchful eyes, so to speak. I don't think they'll do anything dramatic." Jason reminded. "Also, if they think they could kill me and take Damian just like that, they might be in for a surprise. Damian isn't... easily persuaded through blood and gore." He stopped short of accidentally revealing that the 'training' he and Damian returned from when they discovered the death of Ra's and Talia at the Algol Island had been Damian's 'training' in death and destruction. Colloquially referred to as the 'Year of the Blood', Damian was sent to retrieve a number of relics from around the world; most held in private collections by colonists who had acquired said relics from native people by force. Combine 'acquisition' and 'force', it was safe to reason that said 'colonists' would have had armies protecting the relic. And Damian had gone through them fairly easily.

And bloodily.

But that was not something Jason would reveal. It would be up to Damian's discretion - later or never - to tell his father. Surely he would not wish to have such thing revealed to a group of people calling themselves 'heroes'.

"I'm in favor of the more the merrier, really. In spite of me being the so-called 'extra' pair of eyes, Tim Drake has higher visibility when it comes to... well... the common people..." Dick remarked. "There might not need to be blood and gore in the immediate future. Plus, I'm not there as a Talon."

"You're there as Damian's guard, the White Ghost. Anyone familiar with the lores surrounding the Al Ghuls would not suspect a thing..." Jason started.

"Can I be the blue ghost, instead?" Dick wanted to know, grinning impishly.

Tim, too, was grinning impishly.

"What," Jason growled, suddenly realized that he was being played.

"I kinda liked blue better than white, y'know?" Dick replied.

"You're not taking this seriously, are you?"

"Oh, I am. I mean, there's a kid's life on the line; a lot more money than I'd ever seen if they were in the form of unpopped corn kernels; heritage; people of Gotham, etc, etc... why wouldn't I take this seriously?" Dick replied as he walked away from the table. "But I still think I look better in blue, right?" he added, pulling out a set of costumes from the cabinets. It was modeled after Jason's costume - "to have a more cohesive look between us," Dick had said. And it was in blue, whilst Jason's was in green.

He groaned exasperatedly. "There is no blue ghost in our ranks..."

"Well, they don't need to know that, do they?" Dick reasoned.

Jason glared at Tim for help. But the boy shrugged, "he's had that made since the day you came. He actually has several sets of those... He said your outfit made for pure awesome day clothes. I, too, worry about his fashion sense."

"Why." Jason partly wanted to know, partly wanted to know what the hell he'd done in the past that landed him with the Marx brothers right there. His costume would work well for the desert - where the Al Ghul's strongholds were mostly at; the jungle surrounding the Al Ghul Island where Damian and Talia would reside during the summer months; or in combat. For daily use, however, Jason would have worn normal suits. "For the love of all things mighty, you folks didn't look through my suitcase, did you?"

"Oh, we know of the suits. The normal people suits, don't worry. I have those made for Dick, too - in blue as per his insistence." Oracle intoned. "And no, Richard, you are not wearing costumes when you walk to the Waynes' front door."

Thank god for the voice of reason.

"Aww... buuuut, it will be more impressive!" Dick wailed, dead-set looked crestfallen, and gave puppy-dog eyes toward Oracle. Jason sighed again. For what seemed like the umpteenth time of the day.

"No means no, Dick. Now, if you'd come up straight from the desert and whatnot, that wouldn't be so strange. But you - and by 'you' I meant Jason and Damian - arrived in Gotham more than a week ago and stayed at the Ritz, 'fer cryin' out loud!" Oracle snapped back.

"Ritz this ain't, but I agree, if we've stayed at the Ritz, there would be questions as to why hasn't anyone seen us. My costume isn't exactly made for urban living." Jason pointed out. Dick was still sulking, but it looked like he - thankfully - finally conceded.

"Fine, I'll wear the monkey suits..." he grumbled. Jason mouthed a 'thank you' toward the projection.

"Okay! Next, backstory excluding the fact that... Talia and Ra's' being murdered and stuff - that what you're planning to say right, Jason?" Oracle continued, ignoring Dick's whines.

"Yes, there's no point in hiding it since Wayne would want to know who the mother was, and we have set out news stating Ra's and Talia Al Ghul being killed in an airplane crash," Jason told her.

"I've seen that news and marked all the news portals that mentioned them. I would like you two to keep an eye on Bane's reaction, as minute as they might be. Dick?"

"Got it. If he as much as breathe wrong in Damian's direction, we kill him." Dick replied. To Tim's and Jason's withering glare, he demanded, "what?"

"Why can't we just have Tim accompanying me, anyway?" Jason finally blurted. "He could jeopardize the whole thing."

"No, he's not. He's just pulling that one out of his ass. He's not gonna kill anybody, right Dick?" Oracle prompted. "Plus, it would be fairly odd if Tim Drake accompanies you, as he himself is quite a well-known individual within the city."

"Hhh... alright..." Jason still grumbled but decided to let it go for now. There were far more important objectives to be had.

"I much prefer Grayson to be with us as well, Jason." Damian suddenly piped up. He has been sitting there, at the head of the table, watching the processions. "With most adult's predisposition to undermine non-adults, Grayson's presence there could deter anyone from trying mischief right away." he reasoned. "Timothy, while I daresay have sufficient combat skills when required, has the benefit of being a public persona while being a child and thus would not come across as strange that I - as a child as well - should come to him first and foremost for assistance."

"Why, thanks, Damian. I think..." Tim replied.

"That is... quite an interesting psychological insight, and validated our plan, I think," Oracle remarked after a few seconds of silence. "Okay, gentlemen? Shall we get the plan rolling, then?"

"We shall," Damian replied. "I cannot wait to see how my father will react."

[pof203]

Rockababy Halloween (Short Story)

This is a short story for Rockababy with a few OCs. I also like to apologize in advance for turning Boomer’s housewife outfit into a costume. It was just too convenient. Also, my OC, Rosa-Maria, is not in this. This story is in case I don’t finish her story in time. Also, the end scenario is based off one of the stories from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

It was a crisp Halloween morning. Brick had just gotten up and was about to get ready for school when his neighbor, Mrs. Gowan, came to him in the front of his house.

“Excuse me, Brick,” she said. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“What is it, Mrs. Gowan?”

“Well, me and my husband are going to a Halloween party at my sister’s in the next town and we can’t take our daughter, Martha, and her friends trick-or-treating.”

“What about her friends’ parents?”

“Sally’s mom has an extra shift at the hospital and Patty’s dad has a bad cold. And we can’t hire any sitters because they already have their hands full for tonight. So I thought, if you’re not too busy tonight, do you think you can take them? We’ll pay you.”

“Are you sure? You know how your husband feels about me… and Boomer.”

“True. But it was either you or ask his sister, Daniel, and she hates kids. But I convinced him. So, can you do it?”

“Well, I guess I can. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get my friends in on this.”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll bring her by later tonight before we leave. Thank you, Brick.”

With that, she leaves and Brick goes off to school.

At school, Brick tells the other Bozos as well as Richie and Ace about what his neighbor asked him.

“I think it’s sweet you want to help your neighbor,” said Boomer. “I think it would be a good idea.”

“He’s gotta point,” said Ace. “Besides, we have nothin’ better to do tonight and I don’t feel right about letting three young girls go out on their own.”

“What about that Si-Fi movie marathon on TV?” asked a disappointed Richie.

“Hey, there’s always next year,” said Shifty.

“I suppose. Besides… I think I have an idea for a costume.”

“Like what?” asked Ace.

The bell rang and Richie left for class, looking back to his friends with a smile and a wink saying, “It’s a surprise.”

Later after school, Shifty was at home with Buttons. He was looking in the mirror trying to decide what he should be for Halloween.

“You got any idea?” he asked her.

She just squeaked. This was to be her first Halloween.

“I guess I’ll try something.”

Shifty shapeshifted into some detective clothing. He was wearing a dark grey suit, a silver watch, and a gun holster under his coat. He completed the ensemble with a cigarette.

“Just like Bones, huh?”

Buttons laughed.

“But then again, Bones might be going as this. Next.”

Shifty shapeshifted into some kind of space raider. Some of the marks from his alien form would act his tattoos and had a lollipop in his mouth.

“I got the idea from one of Richie’s movies. What do ya think?”

Buttons squeaked in agreement. Then, he looked into the mirror.

“On second thought, this might be a bit too much. Next.”

Shifty was now a nerd just like Richie. To really sell it, he put on some headphone, had glasses that were blue in contrast to Richie’s red ones, and even a band aid on his cheek. Looking in the mirror, Shifty was quite impressed.

“This get-up makes me look young.”

Buttons makes a gesture like she was saying “Richie”.

“Yeah, I think this may be ahead of its time.”

Shifty decided to go for the big guns. He shapeshifted into the scariest thing he could think of… A square jock just like Ace. He was wearing a blue letterman’s jacket with an S, a blue tie, and even changed his hair style. To make it even more convincing, he had a football that Ace left behind from his last visit.

“What do ya think now?”

Buttons just stared a little confused.

“Yeah, this could be bad for my rep, even if I told ‘em that it’s just a costume.” He changed back to his usual greaser clothes. “I’ll think of something on the way. Right now… Let’s get on with your own costume.”

Buttons squeaked in delight.

First, Shifty dressed Buttons like some Russian beauty with a coat. But, the eye lashes made her look too sassy. Next, he dressed her up like a wizard. But he was afraid it would make her stick out too much. Then, he dressed her like some school teacher complete with glasses modeled after Richie’s, a pencil, and a balloon apple with a worm coming out of it. But it was way too simple.

“What would be good for you?”

Then, Buttons goes to a chest. She opens it to show his skin that he shaded some time ago.

“Huh. I thought that would have rotted away by now.”

Suddenly, Shifty got an idea. Taking the skin, he cut it up and sewed it up until it was a little version of Shifty’s alien form. It was just Button’s size and put it on her.

“Cool,” Shifty said with a smile.

Buttons squeaked in agreement.

Shifty looked up at the clock on the wall.

“Looks like we better go.”

Buttons got into Shifty’s coat and they set off for Brick’s house.

The Bozos assembled at Brick’s house in costumes. Brick was dressed as a martial arts master, complete with a pair of nun chucks and left his coat open to expose his chest which Boomer really liked. Speaking of Boomer, he was dressed like a housewife with a red dress, an apron, red heels, and even a frying pan. Ace was dressed like a 1940s detective. He also borrowed Ace’s magnifying glass to complete it. Ace claims that he came as a teen vampire. Basically, it’s just his regular clothes with his letterman jack and a pair of fake fangs.

“Hey, it was the best I could come up with,” he explained.

“You could have a least wear a cape,” suggested Boomer.

Shifty and Button arrive at last.

“You still ain’t found a costume?” asked Boomer.

“I couldn’t decide,” Shifty explained. “But look at what I did for Buttons.”

The guys couldn’t help but fond over how cute Buttons looked in her Shifty Alien suit.

“Where did you get the stuff to make it?” asked Ace.

“You don’t wanna know,” said Shifty.

Then, the familiar sound of Richie’s motorbike came in. The others turned only to drop their jaws. There was Richie… as a greaser.

“R- Richie?” asked a stunned Shifty.

“Tell me about it, stud~,” he responded.

Shifty nearly changed back into his alien form, but managed to hold it together while trying to keep Buttons in his jacket. But it was no use, and just like that, Shifty was back in his alien form. However, his coat remained.

“Holy crap, they’re coming!” said Brick as his neighbors’ door opened.

Shifty quickly took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, hoping Mr. and Mrs. Gowen wouldn’t get suspicious. Mr. and Mrs. Gowen were dressed like Alice and the Mad Hatter respectively, Matha was dressed like a princess, Sally was dressed like a cowgirl, and Patty was dressed like a witch.

“Shifty?” asked Mr. Gowen. “Is that you?”

“Y- Yes?” said a nervous Shifty.

Mr. Gowen was silent in thought for a while. And then…

“It’s perfect!” he shouted in glee. “An alien greaser? Now that’s original. I never would have thought that.”

Shifty sighted in relief.

“As for you, Richie,” said Mr. Gowen. “I’m impressed as well. Can you really see without your glasses?”

“I got contacts,” said Richie.

“Well, as long as it’s just a costume, I guess it’s fine.”

“I don’t know; I may keep this look for good… What? Can’t a guy change his style every now and again. But don’t worry. Even if I really do become a greaser, it’s still me.”

“Okay. And you, Ace, you’re not wearing a costume?”

“I am wearing a costume,” he said, pointing to his fake fangs. “It’s all I could afford at the moment.”

“I see. I guess with what happened to your father-“

“Jerry,” said Mrs. Gowen, sternly.

“Sorry. And…”

Mr. Gowen stopped when he saw Brick and Boomer.

“You… You look… Unique.”

Brick and Boomer didn’t whether they should laugh or be offended.

“Why doesn’t Dad like Brick and Boomer?” asked Martha.

“That’s not true,” said Mrs. Gowen. “It’s just that… People like Brick and Boomer make your father a little nervous.”

“But don’t worry, sweetie,” said Mr. Gowen. “I’m slowly but surely accepting it. I mean, the world is changing. Might as well change with it.”

“That’s true,” said Brick.

“By the way, Martha,” said Boomer. “I like your costume. You look just like a real princess.”

“I really wanted to be a pirate,” she said. “But Dad says that’s for boys.”

“And besides,” added Mr. Gowen. “I looked in every costume shop. They’re sold out. I guess pirates are the most popular this year. But don’t worry, we’ll try again next year.”

“Now,” said Mrs. Gowen. “Let’s go over the rules again. What’s the first rule?”

“Stay with Brick and his friends and don’t wonder off,” said Martha.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” said Sally.

“Don’t enter the houses,” said Patty. “Unless it’s the house of someone we know.”

“Take only candy that’s from houses, not off the streets,” said Martha.

“Keep the flashlights with us at all times,” said Sally.

“After getting the candy, don’t doddle, keep going,” said Patty.

“And most importantly…” said Mrs. Gowen.

“No eating the candy until after we get home,” the girls all said in unison.

“I’ve never heard of that rule before,” said Brick.

“After what happened last year, you never know what you mind find,” said Ace.

“And be sure to be back by nine,” said Mrs. Gowen. “I already made a lasagna. Heat it up when you get back.”

“Actually, I think I can make something just as good,” said Boomer.

“No,” Mr. Gowen. “I mean, you don’t need to trouble yourself. I’m sure things will be fine.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Gowen, Boomer’s a great cook,” said Brick. “Your daughter and her friends are in for a treat, if you pardon the pun since it’s Halloween.”

“I suppose… I mean, he has a frying pan.”

“Jerry, we’re going to be late,” said Mrs. Gowen.

“Right, “I’m late” is the White Rabbit’s line, not the Mad Hatter’s. Coming, Ella! Well, we’ll see you girls later. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Martha.

“Thanks, Mr. Gowen,” said Sally and Patty.

With that, Mr. and Mrs. Gowen got in their car and left.

“You actually looked good in that, Boomer,” said Sally. “Nice legs.”

“Thanks,” said Boomer, proudly. “Just remember these legs are for someone else.”

He winks at Brick who was blushing happily.

“Actually, I like Shifty’s better,” said Martha. “He almost looks… sexy.”

Shifty was unsure what to say. But he could tell Buttons was stirring in his jacket in jealousy.

“You’re… Not actually falling for me, are you?” asked a nervous Shifty.

“You wish,” said Martha. “I already have a boyfriend. Just don’t tell my dad, okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me. Believe me, I can keep one.” Shifty winked with a smile and he could tell Buttons was happy.

“What’s that in your jacket?” asked Patty.

Shifty took Buttons out of his jacket as she pretends to be a stuffed toy.

“I just thought it would make it more convincing,” lied Shifty.

“I think it’s really cute,” said Patty.

“Can we go now?” asked Sally. “The good candy is always the first to go.”

“Right,” said Richie. “Let’s get going!”

With that, the Bozos, Richie (who by now is probably a Bozo himself), Ace, and the girls left for their candy quest

They went from house to house, gathering candy wherever they go. . Many people were a little confused about the Bozos’ costumes. Especially Brick and Boomer, but they ended up liking them anyway. In the upper class neighborhood where Ace once lived, he had to hide his face in hopes no one would recognize him. It would be a bit humiliating if some of the guys he once hung out with at school saw him and laughed at his current situation.

After what seemed like hours, it was time to head home.

“It’s really getting dark,” said Bones. “We should get going.”

Suddenly, it began to rain.

“We need to get inside somewhere,” said Brick.

“How about there,” said Boomer.

He was pointing to… an old abandoned house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked an unsure Ace. “And of all the nights, a dark and stormy Halloween night?”

“Do you see anywhere else?” asked Shifty.

Ace knew this was true. So, they all went inside the house. It was dark and dusty.

“Abandoned is right,” said Brick.

“I can’t imagine anyone living here,” said Boomer.

Bones looked around the house for a bit. Suddenly, he went as pale as a ghost.

“You guys,” he said with dread. “I think I know where we are.”

“What do you mean?” asked Martha.

“I don’t get it, either,” said Shifty.

“This was before you girls were born,” said Bones. “And before Shifty came to town. It was back when we were just kids around your age.”

“Can you tell us?” asked Martha.

“Okay,” said Bones, grimly. “Just hope you like… ghost stories.”

The group sat down and listened to Bones’ story.

“Many years ago, when we were just kids, there was a rumor going around town that this house was haunted. Every night, a bloody head would fall down the chimney… That chimney.”

He was pointing to a nearby fireplace.

“Because of this rumor, the owner would not stay in it. However, one day, he announced to the whole town that he would give $5000 to whoever was brave enough to stay in the house for one night. But no one would even dare. They were just too damn scared.”

Shifty scowled at Bones for saying damn in front of three little girls… Four, actually. But Bones continued.

“But then, a young man and his dog came up. He said that he would take the challenge on the condition that he would be allowed to bring his dog with him. The owner agreed.

Later that night, the young man and his dog arrived at the house. He lit a fire in the fireplace to keep warm. As it got later, the young man was starting to think that the rumors were just made up and was about to head up stairs to sleep.

But just as he was about to get up, he heard a voice singing a sad song…

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The young man thought it was probably just some drunkard singing gibberish. But no sooner had he brushed it off… his dog responded.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man was startled. He had never heard his dog utter a word, never mind singing. Suddenly, the young man heard the singing again, but this time, it was closer.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

A bit afraid, the young man urged his dog to remain quite… But to no avail.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man didn’t know what to think. Then, the song was song again. This time, it was real close.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

And like before, the dog responded.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. Something just wouldn’t let him get up. Then, he heard the singing again, only this time, it was right on the other side of the wall.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The young man once again urged his dog not to respond, but like before, he did not listen.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

Then, the young man heard something climb up the side of the house. Then, it was on the roof as it continued its song. Only louder.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker!

The young man tried to silence the dog with his hands, but he only growled at the young man. When he kept his distance, the dog responded. Only louder than before.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo!

Then, whatever was on the roof went into down the chimney and sang so loud that it was almost deafening.

ME TIE DOUGH-TY WALKER!

Then, the dog responded with the song, but now really loud almost like a howl.

LYNCHEE KINCHY COLLY MOLLY DINGO DINGO!

Then, something fell down the chimney into the fireplace, missing the fire, and landed next to the dog… It was a bloody head. The dog took one look at it and fell over dead from fright. Then, the head turned to the boy, opened its mouth, and…

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The Bozos, Richie, Ace and the girls were now shaking.

“The next morning, the owner came to check on the young man. But when he went in, he found the young man lying next to his dead dog. His hair was completely white from shock and his was uttering gibbering. The ambulance came to take the young man to the hospital. When the owner asked the young man what had happened, all he could say was…

The Jangly Man is coming.

The young man is still in the asylum to this day. And every night, he sang the same song…

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The end.”

Bones could tell that the Bozo, Richie, Ace, and the girls were now scared.

“Of course, it’s just a story. It may or may not have happened.”

“Well I’m havin’ a hard time not believin’ it,” said an upset Boomer.

“He- He’s right,” said Sally. “It’s just a story. My mom said a head can’t live without a body.”

“Well, I did say it was a ghost story,” said Bones. “But don’t worry, we all know there’s no such things as ghosts.”

“That’s what they said about aliens,” Richie whispered to Shifty. Buttons was listening, too.

“So don’t worry,” continued Bones. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

But no sooner had he had said it, they heard something faint outside.

“Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…”

“You were saying?” said a doubtful Ace. “I’m not sticking around here for a bloody severed head.”

But just as Ace was getting up, something fell down the chimney and out of the fireplace. Ace, the Bozos, Richie, and the girls just stood silent for a moment… They screamed and all ran out of the house. None of them ever saw that was fell out of the fireplace… was an empty bird’s nest. And none of them even noticed that the singing was just an owl that was hooting something that sounded like singing.

After calming themselves down and realizing that it had stopped raining, the Bozos, Richie, Ace, and the girls all headed back to Martha’s house.

Boomer heated up the lasagna (adding a few touches of his own) and fed it to the girls as he, the other Bozos, Richie, and Ace checked the candy. Thankfully, nothing had been tampered and was all safe to eat. The girls, the Bozos, Richie, and even Ace helped themselves to their loot. Shifty secretly gave some to Buttons. They spent the rest of the evening watching movies on the TV and the girls fell fast asleep.

Later, the sound the Gowens’ car was heard outside and Mr. and Mrs. Gowen came in.

“It looks like you had quite the adventure tonight,” said Mrs. Gowen, taking some money from her purse and gave it to Brick. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Gowen,” said Brick.

“You know,” said Mr. Gowen. “You boys are all right. You can watch Martha anytime. Thank you.”

“It ain’t no prob,” said Shifty.

With that, the Bozos, Richie, and Ace all went next door to Brick’s place to stay for the night.

None of them will ever forget that eventful Halloween night…

And Buttons won’t forget that it was her first one.

The end.

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

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TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 07: DISHONOUR AMONG THIEVES

QUEST SUMMARY:

Due to his status as the World Guardian, Jahaan wound up as part of Zamorak’s heist team. Their task? Steal the Stone of Jas from Sliske and return its power to Zamorak. Jahaan gets to learn more about a god propaganda had always skewed, but will he be on board with Zamorak’s plan in the end…

CHAPTER 2: ABSTRACT OF ZAMORAK

“Care for a drink?” Zamorak held out an engraved chalice, the inscription a foreign dialect that was painful to look at. “I don’t know why assholes come into my churches and steal my wine. I’d make a mint if I just straight up sold it. Go legitimate and all.”

So yes, Jahaan did take the meeting. Right on time he used the communication device that whisked him away… somewhere. He was underground, that’s for sure. The claustrophobic feel of gravity assured him of that.

Zamorak had invited him into a chamber of sorts, akin to the dining room of a haunted mansion. The deity really did have a taste for the theatrical, what with the vampyric ornaments and arcane fixtures. Also, crimson. LOTS of crimson.

Zamorak practically blended into the walls.

He sat Jahaan down in a grand armchair of sorts, donned with decorative bones, and it made Jahaan feel like a supervillain.

Sniffing a faint laugh, Jahaan took the chalice and allowed Zamorak to fill it up to the brim with the thick red liquid, dark like blood. That last thought gave Jahaan pause before he put it to his lips, but after a quick sniff and being overwhelmed by the alcoholic, fruity scent, he assured himself it was indeed wine. “Thanks. I didn’t think Mahjarrat could drink, though.”

“We can’t,” Zamorak confirmed, taking a large gulp. “I’ll have to get it out of me later. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy some good booze for now though.”

Not wanting to press for anymore details, Jahaan asked, “Where on Gielinor are we? Are… are we still on Gielinor?”

Laughing, Zamorak said, “Of course we’re still on Gielinor. This is temporary base of operations, courtesy of an old friend of mine - Bilrach - who you’ll meet later on. Dug the place himself, crazy bastard. Crazy, loyal, dedicated bastard, that is. You humans would know of it as ‘Daemonheim’.”

Eyes wide, Jahaan audibly gasped. Yes, he had heard of Daemonheim, mainly from stories. A band of Fremennik warriors decided to sail west around the globe, discovering uncharted islands and unclaimed lands as they did so. Daemonheim was their greatest find. Despite being a part of continental Gielinor, no-one had ventured that far in centuries, the unforgiving terrain putting a fatal halt to would-be adventurers. Thanks to the Freminnick, the place was now accessible, though you should pray for those who dare to enter the dungeons beneath the ancient castle atop the snow. Floor upon floor of monsters, puzzles, hazards and traps. No-one had ever made it to the bottom floor; the lucky ones retreated to the surface, the others were not so fortunate. No-one knew who had built such a place, or why. No-one, it seems now, except Jahaan.

Smirking, Zamorak remarked, “I’m glad you’re impressed. Not many have had the honour of stepping on such hallowed ground. It’s a good place to regroup, after the battle with Saradomin didn’t go as well as planned…”

“Yeah, how are the Zamorakians taking the defeat?” Jahaan inquired, taking a sip of the wine, far too bitter for his tastes.

“Better than you’d think. We lost a lot of forces, but I’m still swinging, and so are my Mahjarrat. Now I’m gonna to bypass this ridiculous little contest of Sliske’s and take back the Stone. Let’s see Saradomin stand tall then!”

Zamorak took a sip from his red wine, his eyes thoughtful and calculated, as the silence stretched on. After a while, he finally spoke up, “World Guardian, have you ever been told about Sliske’s plays?”

Jahaan furrowed his brow, stopping mid-sip, suddenly worried. “No…”

Zamorak grinned, the flesh stretching and pulling across bone. “Man, you’re going to love this. Sliske’s always been a twisted bastard, but this put it to whole new heights. See, back in the days of the Zarosian Empire, we Mahjarrat were given pretty high-class roles - our reward for taking out the Menaphites. Half of us got chosen as generals and lieutenants in the army - known as 'Legati' in Infernal - while the other half were churchleaders, or 'Pontifixes'. Sliske, due to his… unusual predilections...  was given the rank of Praefectus Praetorio - the head of Senntisten’s secret police. Investigation, spying, interrogation… you can see how the role was built for him. In his free time, he was always writing. Stories, plays, even pathetic attempts at poetry. His plays were the most fucked up, performed for the top ranks of Senntisten, like urbane demons, bureaucrats… you know, the types of assholes that could afford to watch his nonsense. To make the plays, he rounded up the low caste and homeless, dressed them up in costumes, and placed upon each a crude wooden mask, which he whittled himself. Sliske gave the word, and the masks started doing their thing; they’d speak aloud, control the actor’s movements, making ‘em jerkily act and mime his play like demented puppets. Sometimes the actors actually stabbed each other to death with their weapons at the play's climax. In one show, one of the actors died - probably of some disease - in the middle of the performance, but the mask kept animating his corpse and the show went on. Sick, right? Worst part is, the audience lapped it up! Sliske went on to perform it about a dozen or so more times before growing bored - as he is prone to do - and moving onto something else. No-one dared speak up against him. After all, who wants to be at the centre of a Praetorian investigation?”

Mouth hung open, Jahaan sat there in horror, his mind doing him the courtesy of picturing every grotesque and gruesome detail. He was starting to feel nauseous because of it, and the wine probably wasn’t helping matters. It took him a while before he could collect himself enough to exclaim, “Didn’t… didn’t Wahisietel say something?!”

Zamorak laughed sharply and so suddenly that Jahaan spilt a bit of his wine. “His brother gave up on his ways long before that. Sliske’s always been fucked in the head, even back on Freneskae, playing with corpses with childlike glee. There’s something seriously wrong with him. There was one of our kind, old Nabor - boring as dry brick but he was pretty sharp. He ran the insane asylum in Senntisten, became quite the psychologist while he did. He once remarked to me how he’d love to study Sliske, to really figure out what was up with him. Never dared invite him for a session, though. I used to see him and Wahisietel chatting - they were close. No doubt Sliske came up in their conversations.”

Jahaan made a mental note to confer with Wahisietel when the opportunity arose.

But in all this, one thing became clear to him more than ever before: Sliske knew everything about him, but he knew nothing of Sliske.

Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, Jahaan rounded back to something less… horrifying. “Senntisten doesn’t seem like such a bad place. Your kind were well taken care of, from what you tell me, so why’d you leave Zaros?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Zamorak confessed, his fingers, unblemished and marble-white, scratching absently at his face. “Ask my followers and they’ll all tell you a different story. Some think it was just a political coup, that I wanted to gain power with no endgame, or that I’d had a falling out with the ‘Empty Lord’. Truth is, we needed to break free from Zaros. He wanted to know our every move, our every thought. When we went on missions, Zaros made us take along a man named Perjour, someone he’d cursed to be his bibliographer. Everything thought that man had, every single thing he witnessed, would be transcribed in a little book, which Zaros would sift through, looking for any seeds of betrayal from his followers. It was oppressing.”

“So how did you get around that?” Jahaan inquired, drawn in by the energy Zamorak brought to his tales.

Grinning wickedly, Zamorak boasted, “I stole the book, switched it with a copy. Zaros was none the wiser. And thus, the seeds of rebellion were sewn.”

The last comment was followed by a wink as he swirled around the wine in his class, looking all-too proud of himself. It seemed all Mahjarrat were capable of that unique form of unnerving smugness.

But something still stuck in Jahaan’s craw; he hesitated, and Zamorak picked up on this. “Come on, just come out with it.”

Exhaling deeply, Jahaan begun, “Alright… your chaos theory hasn’t been painted in the best light across Gielinor. Is all of it really propaganda? What about the Culinaromancer? Count Malak? Lord Iban? And don’t get me started on those dark wizards…”

Rolling his eyes, Zamorak’s annoyance looked of one who had dealt with this before. “Okay, yes, we have a few bad eggs. It’s a damn shame cos we started out so promising. Many came to me because they were fleeing or rejecting some aspect of authority within the Empire, and a philosophy that prized individuality over structure, society or government was just what they were after. But over time this developed into a very unhealthy anarchism; some followers ‘misinterpret’ my philosophy, twisting my words and using it as an excuse to steal, torment, attack… wanting to watch the world burn is nothing I’ve ever preached. But Saradominsts take these few radicals and think we’re all like that. They spew out propaganda against us, saying we’re all evil monsters and anarchists. The few have ruined it for the many.”

“I hate that people think I’m evil,” Zamorak continued, gulping down another swig of wine and instantly refilling himself. “Yeah, I’ve done some pretty bad shit in my time, but who hasn’t? War is messy. If you want your hands clean, become a chef. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for the betterment of my followers, for the Mahjarrat, and for Gielinor. Saradominism is all about ‘join with me and you’ll never have strife again’. We all know that’s just bullshit. Zamorakianism is all about ‘strength through chaos’, about knowing that life can deal you a crappy hand, but it’s that struggle and misery that can shape who you are and make you into a stronger, better person. Take you, World Guardian - I doubt your life has been all roses and daisies, right?”

“You could say that.”

“I AM saying that. But tell me, think back… if all that hadn’t happened to you, would you be where you are now, decked out in fine armour, drinking fine wine, talking to a damn fine god?”

A thin smile spread across Jahaan’s face. He understood.

As Zamorak spoke more about his chaos philosophy, Jahaan was inclined to buy what Zamorak was selling. A lot of his ideologies matched with Jahaan’s own views, and the deity was nothing if not captivating.

It’s just a shame some of his followers are so unbearable, Jahaan internally groaned at the thought of Zemouregal.

But then again, when it came to philosophy, Jahaan’s world view overlapped a lot with that of Zarosianism. Guthixianism, too. After all, once you’re there for the final words of one of the world’s most powerful deities, you form a connection.

Saradominsm did have some decent arguments, Jahaan would admit to himself, but he could never fall on board with the ideology, and definitely not the lifestyle. As for Armadyl, he hadn’t ever really heard much from the winged deity, aside from his triumph over Bandos. It was too early to call a judgement on him yet.

There was always the Menaphite Pantheon, the ‘go-to’ religion for the desert-born.

Gahh… these labels serve more harm than good… Jahaan grumbled to himself, fighting down another gulp of the wine.

While Zamorak tended to some business, the details of which he never specified, Jahaan was offered a teleport to the central chamber of the lair. Feeling it might be considered rude to refuse, and not wanting to accidentally go through the wrong door into one of Daemonheim’s rumoured horror chambers, Jahaan accepted, and with Jahaan’s permission, Zamorak's spell whisked him away.

The centre part of the lair Jahaan was as over the top as it was terrifying. Complete with lava fountains, torches of tall flames and crackling fire, grotesque chiselled statues of beasts and nightmares, and a crimson tiled floor with the Zamorakian symbol crudely embedded into it… this place didn’t exactly scream ‘happy fun time’. In fact, if Zamorak was trying to shake the ‘evil villain’ image the Saradominist propaganda department were creating, this wasn’t helping.

The chamber wasn’t massive in size, but its grandiose excessiveness more than made up for it.

Jahaan manifested in the centre of the room; a throne comprised of black marble and blood red horns strung across it directly faced him, while short hallways to the east and west had imposing doors adorned with skulls at either end.

The heat was also comparable to that of Freneskae.

Immediately, countless sets of eyes leered at him from all around, the present company of gathered Zamorakians all stopping to size up the newest arrival.

Feeling awkward, but not wanting to let it show, Jahaan strode over to one of the large pillars and casually leaned up against it, crossing his arms over his chest with an air of defiance, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be here. However, he carefully avoided eye contact with anyone, subtly exploring the room with a low glance.

There were two Mahjarrat that Jahaan didn’t recognise from the Ritual of Rejuvenation. One, a bulky looking fellow draped in thick, tattered cloaks. There was a presence about him, a power that rattled through his very being. He looked solid; while all Mahjarrat are technically immortal, this one actually felt it. It was almost unnerving. Yet, undermining that were his eyes - they looked haunted, flicking between the ceiling, the walls, the floor, like he was hearing sounds from all directions and trying to gravitate towards the strongest voice.

But if he missed the Ritual, why doesn’t he look all... half-dead? Jahaan pondered to himself, hoping he didn’t look like he was staring.

The other Mahjarrat, on the other hand, did look worse for wear. Hazeel, he was known as. Jahaan had heard stories about his cult of followers in Ardougne, and how he’d ruled over the lands way back in the Fourth Age with brutality and fear. It was the Carnillean Family that became his end, alongside Saradominist peasants who, upon learning magic and runecrafting, wished to liberate their lands from the Zamorakian tyranny. They didn’t manage to kill Hazeel, but they trapped him in a state of torpor, neither living nor dead. His skeletal appearance did have a rather blood-curdling quality about it. Unlike the other Mahjarrat, he had very large horns protruding from his forehead, looking quite similar to the headpiece Azzanadra wore. These, however, were sharpened into deadly points.

Jahaan wasn’t quite sure how the two Mahjarrat could look so different - one full of life and vigor, the other frail and weak.

If I tread carefully, perhaps I could find out? Jahaan thought to himself, not quite looking forward to conversing with even more Zamorakian Mahjarrat than he had to, but his curiosity drove him onwards.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he strolled over to the rejuvenated looking one, greeting him with a respectful nod of his head. “I’m Jahaan. Zamorak sent for me. I don’t think we’ve met before...”

The trailed-off sentence was an indication to fill in the blanks, but the Mahjarrat seemed rather perturbed at Jahaan’s presence. Jahaan didn’t think he was going to get a response and planned on awkwardly shuffling away, pretending that never happened as he did so, but the Mahjarrat’s sudden response startled him into staying. “Bilrach. I am Bilrach. Forgive me, human contact is taking some getting used to.”

Seems nice enough, Jahaan decided with relief. Not wanting to let the conversation go dry for too long, he continued, “Pleased to meet you, Bilrach. I was at the last Ritual of Rejuvenation, but I don’t remember seeing you there. You… you look well, though. Lots of… skin.”

“I was digging,” Bilrach bluntly replied. “Always digging, digging, digging… they thought this to be my tomb, but it was my salvation. The rift did not provide answers alone, though.”

Quickly, Jahaan deduced Bilrach was not shuffling with a full deck. "Ah yes, Zamorak mentioned that you dug this place yourself."

Bilrach nodded. “Centuries I dug, trying to find the rift between realities, the place where the bond between worlds is at its weakest. Here, I was going to find Zamorak and pull him back to Gielinor. I did not succeed, but this chamber is the product of my labour.”

“But if you missed the Ritual, how come you look so powerful?” Jahaan inquired, hoping the subtle compliment would work in his favour.

From the shift in Bilrach's demeanor, it seemed to work. “Ah, yes! Instead, after tumbling through the dimensions, I arrived on my home planet of Freneskae. There are no longer any of my kind there, but other tribes once existed. The Chelon-Mah and Mahserrat, born from the same energy as we Mahjarrat. It was then that I had an epiphany. Hmm.”

Silence. After it was clear Bilrach was indeed lost inside his own head, Jahaan gently prodded, “And what was that?”

“Ah, yes. The other tribes were also bound to rituals, needing the life force of those that perish to sustain themselves. The Mahserrat decided to forgo this process, resigning themselves to a fate without rejuvenation. But the Chelon-Mah… hmm. The Chelon-Mah did the opposite. They concluded that only the strongest should live, yes. One almighty being, commanding the power of the entire tribe. I remember it. The battle blazed across the horizon – a glorious sight to behold, indeed. For weeks they fought tirelessly, until only one remained with all their power. A brutal incarnation of the Chelon-Mah tribe; the physical embodiment of war. Yes, his might on the battlefield was unparalleled.”

“What does this have to do with your epiphany?”

“Epiphany?” Bilrach blinked. “Oh, yes. I knew that after thousands of years whilst the Mahjarrat have grown stronger, the Chelon-Mah would have diminished. With the Mahserrat all likely to have perished and no kin to sacrifice, he would never have been able to rejuvenate. I returned to Gielinor with the once-great Chelon-Mah captive. I slew him upon my very own Ritual Marker.”

Jahaan gasped. “That worked?!”

“Apparently so. The rejuvenation was an unintended effect of his death. A strange power spread throughout the surface - you may have even felt it yourself. My kin would have believed me perished. But I live.”

“But if you didn’t know you’d be rejuvenated, why did you kill him?”

“On Freneskae we were at war with the Chelon-Mah; with no kin left to test his strength he turned to the Mahjarrat,” Bilrach gravely explained, his eyes flitting over to the two doorways parallel to him. “He killed many of my brethren. Taking his life was a justice long overdue. As the only Mahjarrat at the Ritual Marker when I slew him, I was able to absorb all his power, hmm. I thought I could use this new power to bring back Zamorak. Alas, I still did not find the answers I sought. It would seem it is exceptionally difficult for anyone but a god to open a portal between worlds.”

Remembering Zamorak’s words from before, Jahaan thought to inquire into why Bilrach defected from Zaros to Zamorak, but by the change in tone and demeanour he received from Bilrach, he wished he’d never rocked the boat.

“You know nothing of the Mahjarrat, impling, and neither did Zaros,” Bilrach’s gravelly voice sounded like he’d inhaled too much Daemonheim dust. Though his voice was monotonous and grounded, his eyes seemed to dart and flicker. “We were warriors, brave survivors. In the Empire we grew soft. Zaros took our culture from us, tried to tame our nature, making us priests and bureaucrats - such positions are a disgrace to the Mahjarrat name! Zamorak reminded us of our birthright.”

“Ah, I see you’re getting yourself acquainted,” a feminine voice faded in beside the pair, relieving the tension Jahaan had created. Moia walked up to stand beside Bilrach with the friendliest smile her contorted face could manage. “Jahaan, why don’t I introduce you to everyone else while we await my master’s presence?”

“Sure,” Jahaan agreed, following Moia’s lead with a quick look over his shoulder at Bilrach, who seemed to be muttering something under his breath. To Moia, he asked, “Do you know Bilrach well?”

“I do,” Moia replied, solemnly. “He and I held hands as we walked into the rift together. But we were torn apart. I thought him lost. I found Zamorak, and he arrived on Freneskae.”

Stopping their walk across the chamber, Moia leaned down towards Jahaan to speak lowly, “Bilrach has sacrificed a lot in order to provide my master sanctuary. When I first found him, he was… unrecognisable. Now, he tells me the voices have subsided at the very least. I… I still fear for him.”

Not exactly sure what he was expected to say, Jahaan went with, “I’ll look out for him.”

This was the wrong answer; Moia shot him a glare that could melt mithril. “He doesn’t need you looking out for him.”

She stormed off across the chamber, sharply motioning for Jahaan to follow with a reluctant grunt of, “Come on.”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[thelastspeecher]

The AU where Stan goes through the portal— Stan and Angie’s first holiday season without each other

I cheated a little bit.  This isn’t their first holiday season without each other, since the first holiday season would be while Angie is pregnant, and I wanted this to take place after the babs had arrived.  Also, this became REALLY long and I apologize for that, but I was struggling to find a good way for it to end, so.

              Standucked into an alleyway.  He stoodstraight against a brick wall, waiting for his pursuers to pass him.  After a few minutes, the footsteps hadsufficiently faded.  Stan slumped inrelief.

              Thank god. It’s getting tougher and tougher to lose those guys.  He rubbed his face.  I needto get outta this dimension.  Stanslid down the wall.  I need to get home.  He dugout his wallet, where he had stuffed a piece of paper with numerous tick markson it.  He unfolded the piece of paper.

              “Twenty,one hundred…” he muttered to himself.  Heleaned his head back.  “I’ve been gonefor over a year.”

              It’s already December back home.  I’m missing the holidays with my kids.  Not just any holidays.  The baby’s first ones.  And unless there’s some sorta miracle, I’llmiss the baby’s first birthday, too. Stan swallowed.  He took out oneof the other few things in his wallet, a photo of Angie and the girls fromHalloween.  Angie was wearing a queencostume, while Danny and Daisy were dressed as princesses.  He smiled. I wonder what they dressed up asthis year.  Maybe Angie got a frogcostume for the baby like she wanted to for the girls. His smile faded.  Thebaby.  He looked at the photoagain.  Without me around to be the voice of reason, she probably named itPosey.  He stroked the photo.  Posey’sprobably got Angie’s eyes.  My ears.  A snowflake drifted onto the picture.  Stan sighed.

              “MerryChristmas and happy Hanukkah, kids. Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

----- 

              Lutestrolled into the living room, bouncing Emory in his arms.

              “Theworld’s cutest lil reindeer has been changed,” he sang.  He looked over at the fireplace, where Angiewas hanging up the stockings.  “Banjey,aren’t ya goin’ to look at yer lil boy?”

              “Gimme asec,” Angie said.  She stood on hertiptoes and carefully slipped the last stocking on a nail.  “Okay.” She turned.  “Aw, my goofy lilboy,” she cooed, crossing over to Lute. “Emory, yer such a looker!”  Angiecarefully took Emory from Lute.  Shekissed the top of Emory’s head.  “Thankyou fer changin’ his clothes.”

              “Noproblem.  I’m happy to put him into thecute outfit Ma ‘n Pa sent.”  Lute lookedaround.  “Is Emmett in the playpen?”

              “Yep.  The fussiest snowman to ever exist is playin’with his teddy,” Angie said, continuing to nuzzle Emory.  Lute walked to the playpen.  Sure enough, Emmett was sitting in there inhis snowman onesie, excitedly tugging on a teddy bear.

              “Hereally likes that stuffed animal,” Lute remarked.  “Where’d ya get it from, again?”  Angie took a while to answer.

              “When thegirls were born, Stan’s mom sent us his old teddy bear,” she said quietly.  “Danny ‘n Daisy weren’t too fond of it, butwe held onto it anyways.  Turns out itwas the right thing to do, since it’s Emmett’s fav’rite thing.”

              “…Oh.”  Lute cleared his throat.  “Well, uh, Ford ‘n Fidds ‘ll be here soon to helplight the menorah.  Did ya…”  He caught sight of the menorah resting on thefireplace mantle.  “Oh, good.  Ya did put it out.”

              “We’llmove it before we light it, but I set it there while I was hangin’ thestockings.”

              “Why’d yahang the stockings so early?” Lute asked. “It’s not even the Advent yet.”

              “Lastyear when ya took down the decorations, ya packed the menorah with thestockings.”  Angie shrugged.  “Figured I might as well put ‘em up.”

              “Makessense.”  Lute eyed the stockings.  Each one had an embroidered name on it.  “I don’t have one up.”

              “Ma ‘n Pasaid they’ll send yours in the mail, since it looks like you’ll be stayin’ hereto help with the kidlets fer longer than we first thought.”

              “Good.”  Lute’s gaze landed on the stocking hung nextto Angie’s.  He sighed.  “Angie…”

              “What?”Angie asked.  She joined Lute by theplaypen.

              “Stan’snot here.”

              “I know,”Angie said shortly.  She set Emory in theplaypen.  Emory immediately crawled overto a set of plastic toy keys, grabbed it, and began to chew on it.

              “Why’d yaput up his stocking, then?” Lute asked. Angie’s face hardened.

              “I puthis stocking up last year, too.  Yadidn’t say anything back then.”

              “You werea wreck.  Even sayin’ Stan’s name made yaspiral.  I didn’t have the heart to bringit up.”  Lute rested a hand on Angie’sback.  “Yer in a better place now.”

              “I won’ttake it down,” Angie said.  Her handsgripped tightly on the fence of the playpen. “Ma made him that stocking the first Christmas after he moved toGumption.  I’ve put it up every yearsince.  I ain’t liable to change that anytime soon.”

              “He’s nothere.  There’s no reason to-”

              “No.  If I take down his stocking, thatmeans-”  Angie’s lips quivered.  She set her jaw firmly.  “That means I’m movin’ on, abandonin’ thepossibility of his return.  And he will come back.”

              “Banjey,I don’t think that-”

              “Drop it,Lute,” Angie snapped.  She glared athim.  “I mean it.  I’m not takin’ the stocking down.”

              “Fine,”Lute mumbled.  He looked down at Emory andEmmett in the playpen.  “I’ll drop it.”  The front door opened.

              “Mama!”two voices shouted.  Angie’s frustratedexpression was wiped away.  She turnedand beamed at her twin daughters rushing to her.

              “Howdythere, my babies,” she crooned, crouching down. Danny and Daisy embraced her. “Did ya have a good time at yer uncles’ house?”

              “Yeah!”Danny enthused.

              “UncleFord tried to make latkes and burned everything,”Daisy said with relish.  Lute looked overat Ford, who, with Fiddleford and Tate, had entered the living room behindDanny and Daisy.

              “Thattrue, Stanford?” he asked, amused.  Fordturned pink.

              “I don’tknow where I went wrong.  I made themsuccessfully last year,” Ford said.

              “We havedif’rent definitions of the word ‘successful’,” Lute said.

              “Angieate them!” Ford protested.

              “Angiealso ate a country-fried steak last December,” Fiddleford pointed out.  “The food she hates most in the world.  Ya can’t judge a food based on whether or notsomeone who’s pregnant would eat it.”

              “Youdon’t like country-fried steak?” Ford asked Angie.  Angie stood and shook her head.  “And you didn’t like my latkes, either?”

              “Honestly,Stanford, the best that could be said about yer latkes last year was that theywere edible,” Angie said.  Forddeflated.  “What if I help ya out?  Did ya bring the recipe with ya?”

              “Uh,yes.  I did.”  Ford beamed. He held up the bag he was carrying. “I also brought dreidels and gelt. The girls are old enough now that I think they can learn the rules.”

              “Thatsounds like fun,” Lute said.  He smiledat Angie.  “Don’t that sound fun?  We can all learn how to play withdreidels.”  Angie crossed her arms.

              “Don’ttake that condescending tone with me,” she hissed.

              “Somethin’wrong?” Fiddleford asked.

              “No,just- Lute and I had a lil bit of a tiff ‘fore y’all showed up.  That’s all.”

              “Overwhat?” Ford asked.

              “Thestockings,” Lute said.  He rubbed theback of his neck.  “We- we had adisagreement over whether all of ‘em should get put up.”

              “What doyou-” Ford started.  He looked over atthe fireplace.  His face fell.  “Oh.”

              “I thinkwe should revisit the stockings at a later time,” Lute said.  Angie stormed out of the living room.  Lute sighed. “I’ll go talk to her.”

              “No, I’lldo it,” Fiddleford said, starting to go after Angie.  Ford shook his head.

              “Let me.”

              “You?” Lutesaid.  He crossed his arms, scowling.  “I think you’ve done enough to Angie.”

              “What’sthat mean, Unclute?” Daisy piped up. Lute looked down at his niece like he’d just now realized she was stillthere.

              “Uh,nothin’, sugar cube.”

              “What didUncle Ford do to Mama?” Danny asked. Lute ran a hand through his hair.

              “Oh, geez,”Lute mumbled.  While Lute fumbled throughan answer for Danny and Daisy, Ford headed into the kitchen.  Angie stood in front of the sink, her handsgripping the counter so tightly her knuckles were white.  Her shoulders shook.  Ford took a nervous step back.

              “What isit, Stanford?” Angie choked out.  Hervoice was thick with tears.  Ford clearedhis throat.

              “Ithought I’d offer comfort, but I’m beginning to think that I might not be theone best suited for that.  I’ll getFiddleford.”

              “No.”  Angie let go of the counter.  “No, it’s fine.  I’m fine. I just-”  She rubbed her eyes.  “It’s the most stupid thing fer me to blow mytop over, but I can’t let it go.”

              “What is?”

              “Thestockings.  Normally they wouldn’t evenbe up this early.  Lute just packed theboxes wrong last year, and stuck ‘em in with the menorah.  It would be so, so easy to just take downStan’s stocking.”  Angie’s headdrooped.  “But I can’t.”

              “I’mgoing to bring him back, you know,” Ford said softly.  Angie nodded.

              “I know.”

              “You don’thave to worry about the symbolism of the stockings.  Stan will be back soon enough to put help putthem up again.”

              “It’s theonly thing I can do, Stanford!” Angie said fiercely, slamming a fist down onthe counter.  Ford took another stepback.  “I can’t help with the portal, ‘causeyou and Fidds refuse to allow me down there. I had to take a sabbatical from my research fer my mental health.  I can’t even take care of my children alone.”

              “What doyou mean, it’s the only thing you can do?” Ford asked.

              “It’sstupid.”

              “I’veknown you for years.  You’re many things,but stupid is not one of them.”  Ford steppedcloser.  “Explain.”

              “If Imove on, if I take down the stocking, put away his clothes, he won’t come back,”Angie whispered.  “He needs a beacon tobring him home, and severing my ties to him will just ensure he never finds usagain.”  She shook her head.  “It’s stupid. He wasn’t here when the boys were born. There’s nothin’ I could do that could bring him back, if that didn’t.”

              “All Ihave to say about Stan not being there when the boys were born is that I knowhe wanted to be,” Ford said after a moment. “But that thing about a beacon…” He dug his journal out of his coat. Angie sighed.  “I believe Stan tobe hopping from dimension to dimension, on his journey.  Where he arrives is random, each time.  But his destination could be swayed byoutside forces.”  Angie eyed him.

              “…Go on.”

              “Stan’smolecules will want to return to their home dimension.  That’s why he hasn’t stayed in one spot.  Every fiber of his being is being drawn tothis reality.  He won’t be content to stayin one place until he returns.  But hismolecules aren’t certain of how to return.” Ford flipped his journal open to a specific page and handed it toAngie.  She took it from him cautiously.  “Your fondness for Stan could serve as a beacon,indicating to his molecules that this is where he is from.”

              “Stanford,how would my love fer Stan be a beacon?” Angie asked flatly.  She handed his journal back.  “Yer tellin’ me empty platitudes in anattempt to cheer me up.”

              “Strangerthings have happened,” Ford said.  “You’vebeen there for some of them.”  Angieshrugged.  “And if I know one thing aboutStan, it’s that he’d do anything for his family.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the mere presenceof his family in this dimension is what guides him home.”  Angie managed a small smile.

              “That’strue.  Stan would move heaven and earth ferhis fam’ly.”  She cocked her head.  “Hang on, you did the opposite of what Iexpected.”

              “What doyou mean?”

              “Iexpected to be talked into takin’ the stocking down.  All you’ve done is convince me it needs tostay up.”

              “Whywould I convince you to do something I wouldn’t do myself?” Ford asked.  Angie chuckled.  “So, how would you feel about attempting mymother’s latke recipe with me?”  Angiefinally grinned.

              “I’d loveto, if it means you’ll keep tellin’ me I’m right.”

[allmytwistedshadows]

Kiss it Better

Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader

Requested: Yes ( @sebbaevans )

Request: Barry Allen imagine (any form of him) where the reader breaks their hand and he’s overly concerned

Summary: Things don’t go as planned when Barry saves (Y/N). When she ends up with a broken wrist he’s concerned--more than he should be anyway. Pure fluff

Word Count: 1,347

Warnings: Some cursing. Nothing too bad.

AN: Requests are open

“I know you have to work late tonight but how do you feel about breakfast together tomorrow?” (Y/N) asked her longtime boyfriend, Barry Allen, as she walked home from her own job. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Barry told her over the phone. “I’m really sorry again (Y/N/N).”

“Why?” she asked him, her eyebrows furrowing slightly despite him not actually being able to see him do it. “It’s not like you planned Black Siren making an appearance on movie night.” The couple had a tradition that every Thursday they would stay in and watch something like The Sound of Music or Singing in the Rain. Tonight, though, Barry had to stay at STAR Labs to try and find Black Siren with the rest of Team Flash.

(Y/N) had known Barry’s secret for quite some time now--he really was horrible at keeping them. He had tried to, using a voice manipulator the first time you ever actually talked to the Flash. It didn’t work, however, as one look into his eyes was all you needed. Since then you had tried to help with his Scarlet Speedster issues whenever you could even though you weren’t exactly tech savvy. 

“I promise I will make it up to you,” Barry told her sincerely over the phone.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to respond when a man appeared in front of her, blocking her path. “Excuse me,” she told him, thinking he was just going along his business like anyone else.

“Not so fast sweetheart,” he told her, blocking her path yet again. “Give me your purse and your jewelry.”

“Excuse me?” (Y/N) asked, not quite believing this was happening.

“Babe?” she heard Barry ask on the phone, sounding concerned. “Babe what’s going on?”

“You heard me,” the man told her. “Now give me your stuff now.”

“You really want to do this here? Outside the gas station down the street from Jitters?” (Y/N) spoke, loud enough for Barry to hear her over the phone despite the growing fear in her.

It was at that point that the man seemed to realize that she was actively talking to someone on the phone. Anger spread across his features as he snatched the phone from her hand and pushed her back. “You bitch!”

(Y/N) was caught off guard with the shove and flew back farther than she should have. Her arm went out to try and lessen the blow of her impact against the brick wall. Instead, a loud crack filled her ears. She yelled out slightly at the pain that began to shoot up her arm, closing her eyes as tears sprung to them. “Son of a bitch,” she said under her breath, more so to herself than the mugger in front of her.

He stepped toward her, standing over her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up slightly. “Shut up and give me your stuff or--”

The man is cut off as none other than a red streak. (Y/N) is pushed back as the man flies back. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” Barry told him, his identity masked by his red costume. You laughed shortly as you clutched your arm to your chest, pain rolling through in waves. Barry turned to you and, as soon as he saw you clutching your arm, his smirk fell. “Oh my god (Y/N/N) are you okay? What happened--oh god I pushed you back. That didn’t hurt you, did it? Well obviously it did. (Y/N) I’m so sorry--”

“Bear,” she cut him off shakily. “You didn’t do this--he did.”

“That lowlife piece of--”

“Barry,” (Y/N) cut him off again, her voice strained. “Hospital. Now please.”

“Right! Right, here we go.” Barry carefully lifted her into his arms and zoomed off towards the Central City hospital. He set you down outside the emergency room entrance, zooming off again just as quickly. He left her, though, with the lingering feeling of his lips pressed to her forehead. 

(Y/N) went in and got her arm x-rayed and found that, luckily, it was a clean break. After getting her arm wrapped in a (f/c) cast she went back to her apartment. This time, however, she got a cab instead of opting for the walk home. She was expecting to go in, change into pjs, make some tea, and fall asleep watching West Side Story on the couch. What she wasn’t expecting was to be greeted as soon as she came in by Barry.

“Oh god there you are,” he said as he wrapped her in a tight hug. (Y/N) was surprised as he hugged her, feeling his body shaking profusely. 

“Barry what are you doing here?” she asked him. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for Black Siren?”

“To hell with her! I couldn’t concentrate not knowing if you were gonna be okay. I was gonna go to the hospital but I kept phasing through things. And then you weren’t answering my texts and I got worried--”

“Yeah, because that asshole took my phone,” you told him. 

Barry took a step back from her. “I will go out and buy you a new phone tomorrow,” he told her before taking her arm tentatively, examining it cautiously as if it would break if he held it any other way. “Oh my god (Y/N/N) I can’t believe this happened. If I had gotten there sooner--”

“Do not even go there,” she warned him. “It happened literally as soon as the words left my mouth. Not even the fastest man alive could have gotten there before that.”

“I just feel so bad! I mean if I had been there with you--”

“Babe you need to calm down. I haven’t ever felt you shake this much,” (Y/N) told him, cupping his cheek and looking into his deep green eyes. “I am fine, okay? I’ll have this cast off in eight weeks tops.”

“Eight weeks!” 

Geez,(Y/N) thought to herself, you’d think I’d just told him I was dying.

“(Y/N/N) do you realize how long eight weeks is?”

“Sixty four days.”

“It’s sixty four days without being able to use your left hand!”

“Barry I’m right handed.”

“But--”

(Y/N) cut her boyfriend off by pressing her lips to his slowly. He made a surprised noise but still began to kiss back, his shaking body slowly slowing. She pulled away slightly, leaning her forehead against his. “Barry, you’re overreacting. My arm is broken not amputated. I’m going to be fine. Right now you need to focus less on me and my minor injury and more on saving Central City. I’m safe here--the people out there need your more than me right now.”

Barry looked into her (e/c) eyes for a moment before sighing. “Can I at least kiss it better first?” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes while grinning at her boyfriend. “I suppose that would be okay.”

Barry grinned as he lifted her arm to his lips. He pressed his lips to the casted forearm, his eyes meeting hers as he did. He continued to hold her arm lightly as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love you so much,” he whispered against his skin.

“I love you too,” she told him before kissing him quickly once again. “Now go save Central City.”

“Do me a favor and curl up on the couch with a cup of tea. Watch West Side Story or something along those lines,” he told (Y/N) as he grabbed his keys.

“Are you sure you can’t read minds?” she asked him with a laugh. It was a serious debate they had been having for the last three months. 

“Still a no on that one. I just know what you like,” Barry told her with a grin. He crossed the room and gave her one last kiss before whispering, “Sleep tight.”

Her (h/c) hair blew across her face as Barry ran off. (Y/N) stepped towards the open door, watching the trail of lightning disappear down the hallway. “Go get ‘em tiger,” she whispered, grinning as she shut the door.

[moonlightbewitched]

Kirk Hammett: Can I just say one thing? What Black Sabbath was to that time era and to movies like Black Sabbath and all those crazy Hammer and early ‘70s horror films, I think the modern equivalent is Ghost and movies like The Conjuring and The Nun and Annabelle. I think Ghost is connected to all these great modern horror movies that are coming out. I might be just totally full of it, but that parallel that I’m drawing really is cool because I love this band, I love those movies and it’s a way of like bringing ‘em all together and celebrating all I love which is, you know, the dark!

Tobias Forge: I guess that would be very natural, and quite logical to think that. Going further, if we parallel-compare the horror genre with metal, not only are they alike, but they are also alike because you have the creators of what instigated the horror genre that eventually led to a myriad of filmmakers essentially paying tribute to a lot of those older films. Same way that metal was created by people originally playing blues and funk music who then stumbled into making metal, and then all the metal bands that came after that are in a way, unfortunately dogmatically, sometimes just paying tribute to other bands.

I come from a death metal underground, and it’s basically full of horror name dropping!  I know that a lot of classic films made back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, especially in the ‘70s, were inspired by previous horror/thriller makers. Obviously Hitchcock influenced others, Terrance Fisher…

KH: …Tod Browning…

TF: Absolutely! Fast forward to the ‘80s, and especially in the ‘90s and the 2000s.  I think a lot of contemporary filmmakers who grew up in the VHS digital violence era, such as myself, caused the genre in its totality to maybe suffer from being too much of a homage. All the time there’s weird, eclectic little references, and then you sort of outsmart yourself and the whole project by just making it too true to the genre in a way. Whereas I think a lot of the groundbreaking films were made by people who didn’t necessarily do a whole lot of horror films, but were filmmakers in general.  Stanley Kubrick is the classic example of that with The Shining.

KH: I was actually watching it myself (again, I’ve seen it many, many times) about a month ago. The most interesting thing with The Shining [movie] is that Stephen King doesn’t like it. And you know, I totally get that because having read the book and seen the movie more times than I read the book, they’re two different entities. But they totally somehow relate in the weirdest way, they both hold their own ground as artistic statements. Yeah, you’re getting a different story with the movie, but it’s shot so well and is so creepy [that] it touches on the atmosphere, environment and range of emotions Stephen King was shooting for, I believe. And it doesn’t follow the plot, it goes somewhere completely different with a completely different end, but it’s a great fucking movie and Jack Nicholson is just amazing in it. I mean, it goes without saying.

TF: One thing that I think is for me another key to not only that film but Kubrick’s films in general, [is that] as a good filmmaker, I think you need to pay attention to everything from dialogue to special effects to realism. Angles, details.

That makes me put him on a pedestal, whereas I think this is the problem a little bit with the horror film genre horror, it came to be a mass producing sort of genre, where a lot of the filmmakers are not necessarily interested in [that].

KH: And it’s the writing…

TF: There’re so many things…

KH: The costuming. It’s just crazy.

TF: Yes. The entire craft. And obviously he was -as everyone remotely interested in film knows – he [Kubrick] was a stickler for details, and I very much admire that. Where you have a lot of films, especially in the horror genre, that are entertaining but a filmmaker who maybe technically can make a film but is more interested in the special effects, or the nudity. And you see them phoning in a lot of the things “in between,” especially dialogue and the credibility of the character. Whereas Kubrick was so spot on.

KH: I think that point of the filmmaker as an artist not always embedded in making an obvious horror movie is so key. My attention lately has been gone to that book and movie Lord of the Flies, because I have two young boys and somehow or another we got on the subject of that book. I was telling them how I read it when I was ten years old and [how] it’s really an important book for them to read because it shows the importance of culture, social norms, rules and regulations, what it means to live in a civilized society and what happens when all that just disappears. How things tend to turn to savagery. I realized that when I saw that film I was about ten or eleven, [and] it scared the living shit out of me as much as any horror movie I’d seen at that point. Especially the whole thing with Piggy and the monster. It was intense. So I would have to say, Lord of the Flies, the original one from ’63, [the] black and white version is intense and a real suspenseful horror film in disguise. It’s not even in disguise, it is a horror film to me.

TF: Especially if you see it as a kid, it’s terrifying just because…

KH: …because you think, “Oh, that can happen to me!”

TF: It definitely touches upon…

KH: …parenting!

TF: I know, going to camp, being at school.

KH: Adulthood, you know?

TF: Ironically that film, even though I’ve seen the old film, the remake of it came right about when I was about ten, in maybe ’89? That was the first one I saw, and then I saw the older one because it was on TV not very far in time after that. And it’s one of those films I don’t want to see again, because it made me feel so bad. I have a lot of those.

KH: Yeah, there’s a few films that I feel that [about] way too. Another unintentional horror film that scared the living hell out of me when I was a kid, [was] Sam Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs. An intense film. Almost, almost a slasher film. You know, predates that whole genre, but the violence in that film hits on such a deep emotional level that, yeah, that’s one I won’t watch again.

TF: Can I just throw in there a film I wanted to flag that genuinely made me fucking squirm, was a film from the ‘70s called Alice, Sweet Alice.

KH: Oh, I remember that one, yeah!

TF: It was an American film and I guess technically it’s a little bit of a slasher, but as [with] many films that I like, they don’t contain a ton of motives. It’s set outside New York, New Jersey maybe, mid-‘70s. Weather’s shit all the time. The environment is kinda like, uggh. And it’s just one of those films that also makes me… I like it. I like my memory of it. But I don’t want to see it again because it’s like so creepy. It smells.

KH: Yeah, it smells and you can’t really get it off. I know that feeling.

KH: Okay, let’s talk about the devil for a minute. The whole thing with the devil, how I see old Beelzebub, is actually the God bot. He was actually the god Pan, the pagan god Pan that the Christians took and basically used as the model for Satan, you know, a horned person with goat’s legs [and] whatever. So that in itself kinda muddies the waters for me, because every time I see a picture of Satan, I’m like, “Cool, fucking Satan” but in the back of my mind [it’s] Pan or Bacchus. That’s why I wear Satanic shirts all the time; I’m not wearing it for the sake of Satan, I’m wearing it for the sake of Pan or Bacchus, that’s what I’m really doing. And so having said that, for me, the ultimate devil movie, the ultimate Satan movie of all time that really hit me fucking deep and I thought I was gonna burn in hell after watching it, is The Exorcist. I mean, that is like the ultimate fucking devil shit. What can I say, I was a Catholic schoolboy when I saw it. I thought he was coming for me next. I thought I was gonna be possessed because of all the bad shit I did when I was a Catholic schoolboy. I just, I thought I had a big mark on my head. For six months after seeing that film I had to sleep with the lights on.

TF: I have a few favorite cult films, The Exorcist being one. I love the fact that even though the devil is present, he/she only really appears at one moment, really. He is not this ever present sort of monster that they would’ve done in many films today, this CGI sort of person that does way too much [in the way of] interaction.

KH: You have a total point there, and horror films are totally guilty of exactly that, Satan interacting way more than is realistic.

TF: Yeah, and that’s something that I really like about The Omen as well. The Omen I, II, III, up until the ending of …III, is one of my favorite sort of series when it comes to pure satanic horror. Up until the ending, because that’s when someone [was] just like, “Wait a minute, are we selling this point that this devil is-?” No, no, no, no, no! God’s hand just came down, and that’s the ending. It’s like the biggest fucking cock-block ever!

KH: Yeah. It’s like running into a brick wall. You have a point there. But you know, I think they had to do that or else we’d be seeing The Omen 12, The Omen 13, The Omen 14…

TF: Well, there was four.

KH: I remember seeing the ad for it, but you know, by that point it’s like, Omen IV?! Ah, you know…when sequels start going up past three, usually other groups and other parties [have] come in, other different creative entities, or a studio’s trying to keep something afloat or revive it somehow.

TF: However I must throw one “four” in there that is actually my favorite of a series, and that’s actually Friday the 13th IV.

It picks you up right after number three, it starts horrifically and it has all the good components of that whole series, in my opinion. I think three is cool but Four was like that multiplied. And that’s when you had all the ingredients, Jason had his mask, he wasn’t too fucked up, and, yeah. I think that there is a four.

So OK, at this point time was starting to run away from us and we had gig stuff to get on with, so we agreed to pick up this chat in August and as we were about to get up, someone in the room asked if truth was stranger than fiction, so being good sports, we thought we’d answer that!

KH: You never know what’s gonna be true. With fiction, it’s kinda like everything is fiction in the world of fiction, but in truth, something might look true but it’s false, or something might look false and it’s true, and that’s the paradox right there. You never know what’s true until you actually break the veneer and like look. And these days, because of things like the internet, you can’t take anything at face value anymore. You cannot. It’s foolish to. It’s always good to crack the veneer [and] look a little bit deeper at what you’re actually seeing, so I would have to say that you in most cases, it’s hard to find out what the truth is. But yes, there’s been times when I’ve read or seen or found out stuff that’s been true, and no one could dream up this shit in any sort of movie or book.

TF: Just taking two examples that are currently in my head, comparing truth to fiction, especially comparing it to cinema, if you take a film like, have you seen Vice? It has nothing to do with “horror” but it’s horrific.

KH: Yeah, it’s horrific. Especially what he did to his body just to play that part.

TF: Yeah, just from a film crafting point, it’s done very well and Sam Rockwell is the best George Bush, Jr. I’ve ever seen. But imagine if that was just a made-up script. It would’ve been… you can’t make that shit up. It would’ve been a completely stupid movie! But it’s not made up, so it’s a fucking horrendous story that you need to see, it’s a fantastic film.

KH: That’s a really good point.

TF: And [in] that way, I think that the truth is definitely stranger and more horrific than fiction. Speaking of horror, I was thinking about this just today because today we are in Manchester. I took a train up from London to here, and when I was about 12 there was this horrific story that I read about that completely blew my mind, that I’m sure a lot of people especially in England remember and that was the murder of James Bulger, the little two-year-old. I think he was at the time. Four? The four-year-old at the time. And just being close to train tracks, going through England, thinking about him, it’s one of the worst things I can ever imagine. It’s heartbreaking, horrible. And even though there has been a film made about the subject, I haven’t dared to see [it] because I just can’t find myself doing it. I guess that says something about the truth being so horrifying, and to also realize that it was two kids that did this. That just makes me cry for the world and humanity, and that’s way worse than any horror film that I’ve ever seen.

As I already said a few times, to be continued!

Thanks everyone, Kirk

[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #128 - The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Spoilers below.

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: No.

Format: Blu-ray

1) This film is a classic of American cinema. If you ever want to learn how to tell a slick story, watch this film. Because outside of one or two musical numbers, there is nothing in here that doesn’t need to be. It is all entertaining and slick.

2) Judy Garland’s iconic performance as Dorothy Gale.

In the original tale Dorothy was a pre-adolescent eight year old, where as Garland was 16 upon playing Dorothy. They had to have her in a tight corset to keep her boobs under wraps. Now that I’ve said that fun anecdote...

Garland is pretty great as Dorothy. She is able to perfectly capture her childlike wonder, heart, and innocence in a way which makes the audience feel like a kid. It brings us into this world of youth and fairytales through a compelling and fun character. Dorothy comes off as compassionate and loyal, and while a bit of a damsel towards the end we understand that she is just a child who is thrust into this world and desperately is trying to get back home. Garland is perfect in the role and the film needs her to be as iconic as it is.

3) The decision to have various characters and lines (“Well your head ain’t made of straw you know!”) be echoed in Oz gives the film a sense of magical realism (a literary genre or style associated especially with Latin America that incorporates fantastic or mythical elements into otherwise realistic fiction). I would not go far enough to call the film an example of that genre, but it definitely has some of those elements.

4) “Over the Rainbow”

Without a doubt THE most iconic song in the film. In my opinion there are two songs from cinema which perfectly capture a child’s imagination: “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory and “Over the Rainbow” from this film. The song was almost cut from the film, with studio heads fearing it would bore kids! Can you even imagine? The film’s light melody and childlike innocence is what truly carries it. It connects with anyone who has ever longed for someplace better, for a far off land filled with adventure and intrigue. Garland’s vocals do the beautiful composition amazing justice, making the two inseparable. Honestly, it’s THE moment from the film and the movie hasn’t even gone to color yet!

5) The relationship with Dorothy and Toto is wonderfully strong. I wonder if there’s a backstory to that. Like maybe Toto was a gift to her from her late parents or something like that. Either way, any dog lover will appreciate it.

6) The fact that Professor Marvel (played by Frank Morgan, who later plays the titular Wizard) is a total phony doesn’t have so much weight the first time you watch this film. It does however become wildly important after the film’s end. Also the fact that Dorothy is so quick to believe speaks wildly to her youthful innocence.

7) It took me a while to realize why Dorothy is so desperate to return home when she has a whole song about wanting to be elsewhere, and only recently did I realize why. She thinks her Auntie Em is sick! Professor Marvel told her that her running away made her sick and heartbroken, and it is this belief and love for her family which drives her through the rest of the film.

8) Dorothy looking out the window in the middle of the twister has some wonderful sight gags.

9) The transition from a sepia tone world to a color one is remarkably seamless. Credit to the director, cinematographer, and editor(s?) who worked on this film for that. Bravo.

10) One of the reasons the film is such a classic is largely because of its wonderful imagery. All of Oz is wonderful fantasy, using the brightness of technicolor to its full advantage and creating a storybook world that appeals to the eyes of children and adults everywhere. The entire color palette is like that of a rainbow, something very fitting considering the main song of this film.

11)

Glinda [upon meeting Dorothy]: “Are you a good which, or a bad witch?”

Oh, if only it were that simple.

12)

Glinda [after she hears Dorothy’s opinion that all witches are ugly]: “Only bad witches are ugly.”

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, dude.

13) While watching this film I kinda thought Glinda was being a little TOO chipper, and that the ready celebration of death was a bit odd. Then I remembered a fan theory which painted the supposed Good Witch of the North as the villain. Read at your own risk of childhood ruining.

14) I don’t love this film as much as others, although I do admit its pretty damn great. So it’s at risk of offending the purists out there that I say I think the whole Munchkinland song goes on a little too long. Also some of the Munchkins - probably because of their costumes - freak me out. Mainly the Lollipop Guild.

15) THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST!!!!

She’s so freaking evil, I love it! The Wicked Witch of the West is one of the most iconic film villains of all time, possibly even more iconic than some legends as Darth Vader. Margaret Hamilton plays the Witch with DELIGHTFUL villainy! You can tell she’s having a lot of fun in the part and we as the audience are having fun because of it. The Witch is simultaneously both in line with the stories we hear as children while at times being truly threatening. Even as an adult there are times I go, “holy cow, this woman is EVIL!!!!!!” That is amazing to me. Hamilton was a fan of the books and was delighted to hear she was being considered for a part, and that enthusiasm just infects ever green skin cell of this baddie. Some stories are only as good as their villain, and The Wizard of Oz has an INCREDIBLE villain.

16) The Ruby Slippers.

In the original story the slippers were silver, but the filmmakers changed it to ruby in order to take full advantage of the technicolor process. These days the ruby slippers are such an iconic piece of film that there’s a pair in the Smithsonian institute. Just like everything else in Oz, it captures our imaginations totally and completely.

17) Follow the Yellow Brick Road.

Okay, but what happens if you follow the Red Brick Road? Am I the only one curious about that? Where does the Red Brick Road lead? Wonderland? Neverland? Cleveland? CAN WE GET A SPINOFF ANSWERING THIS QUESTION PLEASE!?!?!?

18) The Scarecrow.

(Let’s all take a moment to realize how relevant and awesome that line is in 2017.)

Out of the trio, the Scarecrow may well be my favorite. He is just so sweet and kind, despite of (or because of?) his naivety. Some fun slapstick comes about from his character, and...I don’t know what else. For some undefinable reason he’s just my favorite of the bunch!

19) This film does have some nice humor.

Dorothy [after interpreting the rusted Tin Man’s words]: “He said oil can.”

Scarecrow: “Oil can what?”

20) According to IMDb:

Ray Bolger was originally cast as the Tin Man. However, he insisted that he would rather play the Scarecrow--his childhood idol Fred Stone had originated that role on stage in 1902. Buddy Ebsen had been cast as the Scarecrow, and now switched roles with Bolger. Unbeknownst to him, however, the make-up for the Tin Man contained aluminum dust, which ended up coating Ebsen's lungs. He also had an allergic reaction to it. One day he was physically unable to breathe and had to be rushed to hospital. The part was immediately recast and MGM gave no public reason why Ebsen was being replaced. The actor considered this the biggest humiliation he ever endured and a personal affront. When Jack Haley took over the part of the Tin Man, he wasn't told why Ebsen had dropped out (and in the meantime, the Tin Man make-up was changed from aluminum dust to aluminum paste as one of its key components). However, his vocals remain whenever the song "We're off to see the Wizard" is played. Jack Haley's vocals were never used during the song, but were used for "If I Only Had a Heart" and "If I Only Had the Nerve." Ebsen's vocals are also heard in the extended version of "If I were King of the Forest," though the spoken segment has Jack Haley. Although no Ebsen footage from the film has ever been released, surviving still photos show him taking part in the Wicked Witch's castle sequence.

21) The various reprises of “If I Only Had _____” (A Brain/A Heart/The Nerve) are some of my favorite songs in the film. Not only is the tune itself sweet and memorable, but they each serve as slick simple introductions to each character’s core conflict.

22) Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! I don’t have anything to say about that line I just wanted to include it in my recap post.

23) Although the Scarecrow is probably my favorite of the trio, the Cowardly Lion is the funniest I think.

The idea of his cowardice allows for a great amount of physical humor and humor in his dialogue. He’s the comic relief in an already very funny and sweet cast.

24) Apparently the actors playing the trio of characters would often show boat and try to steal the scenes from one another, to the point where the director (or whichever director was working that day, as this film had a lot) had to shout at them to let Judy Garland be the star because it was her story.

25) Man, these guys get to the poppy field WAY sooner than I remember!

I also didn’t remember that it got resolved by “Deus Ex Glinda” just casting a magical spell to kill all the poppies with snow. Which is weird considering it should be one of the most memorable scenes in the film.

26) Frank Morgan - the actor who played The Wizard and Professor Marvel - also plays the sentry in Emerald City, the coach driver in the city, and a third guard in the city. Now that we know of The Wizard’s tricky ways, I wonder if all three of these are not meant to be the same character.

27) There are parts in the Emerald City sequence I find a little on the lengthy side, a little superfluous. The songs where all of Dorothy’s squad is getting treated well is fine, it’s short enough. But I totally forget about the entire “King of the Forrest” number any time I watch the film and honestly don’t think the film needs it. But that’s just me.

28) I think part of the Witch’s truly threatening nature is through the strong visuals this film uses. “Surrender Dorothy” is a particularly memorable sight, as black ash fills the sky of an otherwise happy place.

29) I will say though, even though I find the whole “King of the Forrest” song a bit pointless, it does have this nice bit:

Lion: What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage!

30) Probably the time the Lion is at his funniest is when the group is approaching The Wizard.

Also The Wizard is kind of a jerk.

31) Dude, there’s a door just a few feet away. You DON’T need to go through the window!

32) Where the heck did the Scarecrow get a gun? Where’d the Tin Man get a giant wrench?

This movie is weird. I love that.

33) The Flying Monkeys!

Another example of incredible imaginative imagery.

34) Okay so...why does the Witch want the slippers? I mean we have theories in all OTHER forms of Wizard of Oz media. They belonged to her sister, they have the power to jump worlds, she wants a little color in her wardrobe, but the film itself never gives a reason. She just WANTS them.

35) I always really appreciated the devotion the three friends had when going to rescue Dorothy. I don’t know, it just sort of moves me the friendship they were able to craft in such a short time.

36) So this scene with the guards singing:

I did a production of Our Town YEARS ago and there was this girl in the cast who said she grew up thinking these guys were chanting, “Oreo! O-RE-o!” Which, you know, makes sense. That was funny enough on it’s own. Then Wreck-It Ralph came out...

37) For some reason “Night on Bald Mountain” plays as Scarecrow, Lion, and Tin Man go to rescue Dorothy from the which. Because why not, I guess.

38) The fact that water melts the witch - while iconic - sort of comes from nowhere. Was there something earlier in the film that was supposed to foreshadow this? It’s very Deus Ex Machina.

39) The Wizard revealed!

A for effort dude.

40) The scene where The Wizard is handing out the gifts for everyone (a diploma for Scarecrow which works as a brain, the “heart” for Tin Man, a medal for lion) is very funny. Frank Morgan benefits from his fast talking yet sincere nature.

Scarecrow [after receiving his gift]: “How can I ever thank you enough?”

The Wizard: “Well, you can’t.”

And then I love this too.

Dorothy [after The Wizard talks about getting here in a runaway hot air balloon]: “Weren’t you frightened?”

The Wizard: “Frightened? Child, you're talking to a man who's laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe... I was petrified.”

41) I either don’t understand the lesson here or I do and I dislike it. Dorothy has this line of how if she ever wants something again, she’ll just look in her backyard because “there’s no place like home.” While I appreciate the sentiment of, “There’s no place like home,” the idea of home is not defined by the place you grow up in. It’s the place where you feel the most safe, the most comfortable, the place you miss when you’re not there. It’s usually defined by people, not location. Good people who treat you well. So while Dorothy does have that back in Kansas, the line about her backyard throws me.

The Wizard of Oz is a classic and for good reason. It’s colorful and vibrant imagery will stick with children of all ages, and through all its parts combined it just captures the imagination of childhood perfectly. It’s mostly pure, innocent, but not in a naive or babyish way. It’s an entertaining treat everyone should see at least once.

[thegloober]

Today’s Best Sales: Messenger Bags, Harry Potter Halloween Costumes, and an R2D2 Bubble Machine

Every day, the Internet is teeming with deals, sales, discounts, and savings. But, as the Internet is a big, distracting place, said deals can be difficult to find. Plus, you don’t have time to sniff ’em all out. You have work and kids and a total of 25 minutes of free time that shouldn’t be spent looking for discounts. So, to help you out, we’ll be combing through the daily offerings and rounding up the deals we like, and think you might find useful. Today, we spotted deals on leather messenger bags, a variety of Halloween costumes, a creative Lego kit, and the R2D2 bubble machine you never knew you needed.

RusticTown Leather Bags

It’s not a brand we’re too familiar with, but RusticTown bags have stellar Amazon reviews and they’re 25 percent on the site today. Included in the sale are toiletry bags, duffles, and this messenger bag, which we’re intio. Made of 100 percent buffalo leather, it features brass buckles, a detachable shoulder strap, and two outer pockets. Inside, you’ll find a sleeve that can accommodate up to a 15.6-inch laptop as well as spots for pens, cards, and anything else you might need to bring along.

Buy Now $113

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The Dance and the Disaster (The Uli Kondura Affair, Part 2)

To understand the divide between the twin cities of Paire and Kondura, it is illuminating to consider the birds that call both cities home. In the carefully manicured parks of Paire, parakeets fill the air, adding timbre to the dawn chorus, and much needed colour to the place. The birds are not native, but the result of a brief fancy on the part of the King Delij the Tyrant some two hundred years ago, who introduced the birds after seizing them in some far off raid.

Konduran herring gulls meanwhile are evil minded screeching birds that hang around the waterfront and grow fat on the offal that comes off the fishing fleet. The largest specimens are the size of eagles, and are known to hunt cats.

This distinction between the peoples of the two cities is just as stark, a fact which is made immediately clear from five minutes conversation with either.

Excerpt from Duke Teador Almaz’s famous travelogue The Outer Islands: Barbarism in Bad Suits

Sabry hurried down the corridor, trying to keep her breath steady. Plates of diced fruit canapés and wine glasses passed in the opposite direction, carried by other servants who fussed over one another’s bonnets, checked each others lace, and smoothed out each others skirts, muttering encouragements of “See you on the other side” and “Break a leg”. Sabry recognised Maryam, a new hire from the Charity School, and offered her a cheerful thumbs up.

“I bet you and Adana feel pretty smart for pulling laundry duty tonight, huh?” She said, grinning.

“Speak for yourself,” Sabry responded, “you’re the one who’s on the buffet.”

Maryam stuck her tongue out and continued on to the ballroom. Sabry felt a brief stab of worry, like that brief exchange had already implicated her in a crime that hadn’t happened yet. She saw Maryam in the witness dock, still in her peachy servants skirts saying “I knew she was up to something”. But it wouldn’t come to that, she told herself. Between Zvy’s glamours and Adana’s skill with a brush, she would be unrecognisable.

She wound down a wooden staircase, through the white washed backrooms of Avro Manor, down to the laundry where the stuffy summer heat pooled and squatted like a toad. Sabry passed rows of airing cupboards full of fresh laundry, ready to replace whatever Lord Avro’s guests soiled tonight, past the room where an older member of staff worked a complex mechanical washing machine, and finally to the folding room. She let herself in without knocking.

A cool breeze met Sabry as she entered, all four tiny windows near the top of the low ceiling lying open. In the centre, Adana had hung four sheets up in a square to give some privacy. Sabry slipped between the sheets, and found her colleague opening a small box of makeup, and unrolling the leather strip she used to carry her brushes.

 “Where’s the dress?” Sabry asked.

Adana gestured to a laundry hamper. Lifting off the top layer of sheets, Sabry found her evening’s attire.

Zvy had outdone herself. The whole dress was one piece, with the lacings for the back wound around the midriff, in case Sabry needed to change in a hurry, which she appreciated. The laces lay concealed under elegant lines that ran over Sabry’s hips, and knotted with ribbon at her waist, a touch that made it look like a daring sartorial choice rather than a convenient touch for a criminal. White silk for the skirts, lightweight but fashionable, and cut short enough for her to run in a pinch (provided she ditch the neat buckled heels Zvy had insisted on). The bodice front was white, backed with light grey, culminating in a single red gem on the left of the neckline. If nothing else, it was a brave design.

The dress had pockets, but only as a way to access the interior compartments. 

“There’s four compartments, two in the bodice, two in the skirt,” said Adana, as though Zvy hadn’t explained to her already while she’d been measuring her. “They’ll fit about two pocket watches before it’ll start to show, so don’t get greedy. Stick with a couple of choice pieces or-”

“I know, I know,” said Sabry as she got out of her servants clothes and slipped into the dress.

It was light, if a bit warm from the additional layers of material on the compartments, but that couldn’t be helped. She smoothed out the creases, tied the ribbon in front of her and sat on the edge of a laundry hamper while Adana dabbed primer on to her face.

“Test me,” Sabry said as Adana picked out a foundation.

“Why? If you don’t know it by now, surely-”

“Do it, Adana,” Sabry said, giving Adana a sharp look. “I want to know that I know it.”

“Fine, fine. This is only going to take longer.”

“Test!”

“I’m putting on a whole new face-”

“Adana!”

The edge of panic in her voice kicked Adana into action.

“Fine, fine, what name is your invitation under?”

“Lady Uli Kondura.”

A good name. Anonymous. She could be an orphan in disguise or she could be an unfortunate debutante.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was invited as a plus one from Lord Eychim, but he’s sick, so I have his invitation with a signed note that I’m to be admitted.”

She patted the invitation tucked into her breast pocket. Lord Eychim definitely existed, had definitely had been invited, and was definitely too ill to attend, but this wasn’t his invite. The handwriting on it was Granny’s best imitation, and Sabry would have to carry the performance to the gate guard.

“Right. How do you greet Lord Avro? And keep steady while I do your contours.”

Sabry rolled her eyes as Adana drew on the arcane lines that would remake her face. “I call him my lord until he tells me his name.”

“And Duke Almaz?”

“Your grace.”

“His son?”

“My lord.”

“His wife?”

“He has a husband in Pelhure.”

“Now you’re getting it,” said Adana, “now stop talking, I’m going to do your lips.”

Sabry stayed quiet as Adana applied deep red lipstick and gloss, contenting herself with reminding herself.

Go for the Usoans. They won’t recognise you, they’ll take any mistake as a provincial eccentricity, they have the best loot, you’ll never see them again after this night…

“Right, eyes wide,” said Adana, eyeshadow palette in hand. “What’s your family symbol?”

Sabry grinned. “Seagull.”

“Personal symbol?”

“Cresting waves.”

“See? You know what you’re doing,” said Adana, putting away her mascara and flipping a small hand mirror out of her makeup kit and passing it to Sabry. “How do you look?”

Between the dress’ glamour and Adana’s handiwork, Sabry didn’t recognise herself. Her hair was still thick and dark, but the face it framed wasn’t hers. Higher cheekbones, no more odd kink in her nose, her acne pockmarks gone, her mouth wider, eyebrows that could cut glass. She raised a hand to touch her face.

“Ah, careful! It’s a warm evening out there, I don’t want you running back with your face smeared off.”

Sabry nodded and stood up.

“Right. Showtime, then.”

Adana gave her twin thumbs up. ���Knock ‘em dead.”

Sabry smiled and went to the window. Climbing up on a laundry basket, she squeezed through the open pane and into the garden. She scrambled to her feet behind a large ornate topiary, hoping no one had seen, and dusted herself down. Her dress had caught soil at the hem, but maybe if she seemed a bit harried, it would help her look convincingly late.

The warm summer air drifted hung across Avro Manor’s lawns, and over the top of the high brick walls Sabry could make out the remains of a deep purple sunset. The twittering of parakeets and starlings filled the air, and beyond, she could faintly make out the calls of seagulls. Behind her, music and laughter drifted out of the house.

She stepped out from behind the hedge, and on to the path lined with paper lanterns. She recognised the door guard as one of the stable hands, dressed indifferently in a showily-torn leather jacket with a thin sword at his hip. Sabry noted the big heavy swashbuckling boots he wore. A costume of an islander bravo, nothing more, she thought. Such shoddy security could only be intentional, a show of peace and safety.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, giving a big smile and drawing the invitation out as she approached. “I trust this is in order?”

The guard looked up and unfolded the invitation with agonising slowness and glanced over it.

“Lord Eychim?”

“Yes, I’m his plus one. He couldn’t attend in person.”

“I know,” said the guard, dragging out two syllables further than Sabry would have credited. “I can read.”

Sabry let out a hiss of impatience, the hiss of the rich and slightly inconvenienced. The guard looked up her with a smirk, and Sabry realised she might have misjudged. He turned back to the invitation and she satisfied herself with rolling her eyes in feigned irritation, scanning the door frame for witch wards that might interfere with Zvy’s delicate glamours, but Lord Avro again seemed to have been uncharacteristically lax with security.

“I’m not sure my lord would allow it. If you’re a plus one, and Lord Eychim isn’t here, well…”

Sabry peered past his shoulder and saw her salvation; Lord Varna Avro strolling out across the atrium with two ornate gentlemen, one older and one younger, who could only be the Duke Almaz and his son.

“Look, I’m sorry to cause all this fuss,” said Sabry, raising her voice and quavering slightly, “but surely you can make an exception.”

“Miss, I’m sorry, but-”

“What’s all the fuss?” said Lord Varna Avro, peering over his guard’s shoulder, his glasses perched on the end of his long nose, his moustache almost tickling the guard’s ear.

“Oh, this lady was just-”

“I am Lady Uli Kondura,” Sabry butted in quickly. “I was due to come as Lord Eychim’s plus one, but he was unable to attend, but I was so looking forward to coming, I thought I might still be able to get in.”

“She has Lord Eychim’s invitation, my lord,” the guard said, holding it in his hand, but with an eye on Sabry.

Lord Avro withdrew, his bushy eyebrows meeting in the middle. “Oh, well, in that case… Duke Almaz?”

The guard stepped aside and revealed the Duke and his son, an immaculate pair. Green jewels hung from elegant lace cuffs, enchanted to move with the wearer and keep out of their way rather than encumber them. Their double-breasted jackets shimmered iridescent like beetle carapaces, and both wore brooches, the Duke Teador’s of a large beetle, his son’s of a black fly, that twitched and fluttered tiny wings. The brooches sat amongst a constellation of medals, silver and gold and ribbons all clearly selected for precise meaning and relevance, but incomprehensible to Sabry. The pair’s shirts ruffled magnificently out of their necklines and out the bottom of their jackets, again with lace inlaid with emeralds that chimed softly as they moved, and gleamed against their glossy black hose. Together, they dominated the space, Duke Teador looming like some vast insectoid war god, his son at his side like an eagerly-growing apprentice.

Sabry felt a complete fake standing before them. What was she thinking, trying to put one over these folk, in her fake dress and costume-makeup face? They must realise soon.

The Duke looked her up and down, his eyes almost hidden in the deep crags of his face. Like a great chasm opening, he broke into a smile.

“The lady seems perfectly respectable,” said the Duke, simply. “No reason to leave good company out in the street, eh Varna?”

“Not at all your grace,” said Varna, in a strange, low tone Sabry had never heard him use.

“Then let the girl in!” the Duke boomed, slapping Varna on the back so hard the old man nearly stumbled. “Unless you have any objections, Grigor?”

“None, father,” said Grigor Almaz, his eyes firmly on Sabry. Not her dress, or her body, but firmly on her face. She self-consciously moved a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and prayed silently that Zvy’s glamour was as good as she said.

“Perhaps you’d like to escort her inside. The first waltz is just wrapping up by the sounds of it, but I’m sure you’d make a fine pair for the Quadrille. Varna and I have some business to attend to, but I trust you can amuse yourself?”

“Of course, father. My lady?”

Grigor offered Sabry his arm which she took with a smile. She glanced at Lord Varna as the Duke put an arm around him and steered him away towards the ground floor study. A row of easily-liberated jewels glinted on the hem of the Duke’s shirt as he turned, but Sabry stayed her hand. She couldn’t be sure Grigor wouldn’t notice.

“Come now, Varna, what were you saying? Something about being able to meet us halfway…”

“Shall we go, my lady?” said Grigor.

He held her close, smelling like rose oil, salt air, and faintly, sweat. He must have arrived just today. She wondered what the formal greeting on the harbour had looked like, all of Paire-Kondura turned out to make a show of itself in front of Uso, to beg for its recognition.

“Yes, of course my lord.”

He led her through familiar halls, past the grand mirror Sabry had been polishing not two hours before, her heels clicking on the red and black tiled floor she’d watched two nervous girls buff to a mirror shine. Nobles in pairs and groups hung around in doorways and lounged on soft chairs, eyeing Sabry critically as she  passed. The only eyes that didn’t stare were those of her fellow servants. Sabry’s heart leaped as she recognised Maryam standing by a lord in Usoan dress loudly declaiming his opinions on some poet. She looked exhausted and bored, and Sabry wanted to give her some kind of sign, but she couldn’t risk giving the game away now.

They came through into the ballroom, with its tall sandstone arches filled with multicoloured glass, and its ruler-flat dancefloor. The air hummed with conversation and crackled from a thousand tiny enchantments, as minor as holding spells for elaborate hair and as grand as a royal blue velvet jacket decorated with realistic-looking carp that swam over it. As the Duke had said, the waltz was just wrapping up, the band slipping into gentle background music as the dancers disentangled from one another.

“Hey! Grigor!”

A young Usoan in a stupid hat came hurrying over, his cravat crumpled awkwardly under the weight of a huge carnelian. An enchantment kept fire flickering over it, but clearly the young man had no idea how to care for such a thing, and his shirt collar looked singed already.

“Oh no,” Sabry heard Grigor say under his breath before he smiled and slipped his arm out of hers and embraced the fellow. “Timo! How was the crossing?”

“Rough, old chum! Nearly gave a rainbow yawn!” he let out a barking laugh as he pulled back. He jabbed a finger at Sabry. “I say, who’s the local colour?”

“That is Lady Uli Kondura, esteemed guest of Lord Varna. We were going to take the quadrille together.”

“Were you now,” said Timo, wiggling his eyebrows. “Well, as you like it.”

He put his hand out, and Sabry shook it carefully.

“Timo DeZarley,” he said, with a big stupid grin. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I always find Usoan girls terribly stuck up these days, so I’m finding your city just darling.”

“Timo, perhaps you could find some stuck up girls to spend time with? I’d appreciate being alone with Lady Uli Kondura.”

Timo grinned wider and nudged Grigor. “Say no more, say no more. I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, then in a hoarse whisper he surely expected her to hear, “good luck to you, Griggo!”

He departed chuckling to himself. As he brushed past daringly close, Sabry saw two red beryl gems set above his coattails. With Grigor distracted, it was the work of a moment and a sharp nail to tear the threads holding one and slip it into her compartment. She turned back to Grigor, her face a perfect mask of honest confusion.

“The DeZarleys are old family allies,” he said, apologetically. “My father’s good friends with Timo’s father, so naturally everyone thinks I’m good friends with him. Which, I hope you’ll note, I am not.”

It wasn’t very funny, but Sabry laughed anyway.

“I’m just glad he didn’t ship out with us. It’s the kind of thing he’d try to pull… but where are my manners. Let’s get you a drink.”

He turned and clicked his fingers for wine, while Sabry decided which medal he would notice the least. The circular gold medallion with the electrum lightning bolt looked worth the most, but it took up too much space. The smaller silver one encrusted with white diamonds in the shape of Pelhure’s lucky stars looked like a good bet, but the long ribbon looked too well tucked into Grigor’s top pocket. She decided to plump for a solid-looking gold one on the edge of his array of decorations, maybe in addition to a few choice emeralds from his hem. At the very least her conscience wouldn’t bother her. She’d always imagined herself doing far worse to the kind of people who clicked their fingers to order a drink.

A servant brought over two glasses of white wine (the servant named Iulia, she wore her hair in braids on her off time and had once lifted a pair of whole sea bass from the kitchens, a credit to the Charity School). Grigor took them and passed one to Sabry.

“So, Lady Uli Kondura, I’m not familiar with your family name. You’re of the lower city, I take it?”

Sabry bristled at the inflexion on ‘lower’, but tried not to show it.

“My family is a large one,” she said, which was true, “but not well regarded.”

“No wonder you were so keen to come here, then. I imagine this is a bit much.”

Sabry wanted to say 'No, actually, I’ve been at just about every ball ever held here, it’s just that you wouldn’t have noticed’, but she simply nodded and murmured agreement into her wineglass. The wine tasted light and fruity, and very strong. She’d have to be careful with it.

“What’s your family in, then?” Grigor asked, taking a nonchalant lean up against a column.

“Oh, um,” Sabry hesitated.

“I meant no offence,” Grigor added, mistaking her pause for reticence or embarrassment.

“No, it’s alright. We work in the jewel trade.”

“Ah, craftspeople. Rare to see someone who works with their hands at a ball like this.”

“Oh no, not making jewellery,” Sabry hastened to add. “Purely supply side, you understand.”

Grigor nodded knowingly. “My family has interests in several major mines, perhaps we should get in touch.”

Sabry let the topic of her family go orphaned. Grigor cleared his throat, perhaps to attempt a new topic, but the band started up with a lively tune.

“Ah! Quadrille!” Said Grigor, with the kind of enthusiasm reserved for 'thank god, the relief ship!’. “Lady Uli Kondura, I’d be honoured for you to join me.”

Sabry eyed the case clock at the far end of the room. The laundry shift wouldn’t be over for another hour and a half, which gave her a decent window of opportunity. In a close pressed dance like a quadrille, she would have ample cover for thefts.

“I’d be delighted, my lord,” she said, stepping forward into position.

Most nobles thought those below them incapable of courtly dancing, that the lower orders were only good for polkas and contredanses, but Sabry had seen every kind of noble dance in spades, knew the timings and the pauses, when to step in and serve drinks to breathless dancers, what areas of the dancefloor were safe to to move across and where you might get caught in the throng. Like naturalists with a strange colony of animals, the servants of Avro Manor learned by observation.

 Grigor Almaz took the head of the formation with Sabry (as was his right) flanked by two other Usoans with junior Pairean and Konduran partners. Sabry recognised the locals as Lady Uli Verder (a local poet of some skill), and Lord Cheme (one of Lord Avro’s regular humbugs) both adorned with parakeet feathers as statement of local intransigence, but she didn’t know the Usoans.

Like all of them, they were impeccably dressed, a man and a woman, who kept their heads high and eyes level as though they thought the world merely satisfactory, but were ready with a rebuke if it disappointed them. Their personal motifs seemed to be dragonflies, mimicking the Almaz’s lead. The lady in particular had a shawl of delicate, iridescent silk that flickered like wings in the warm air of the ballroom, while the gentleman had dressed himself in shining blue.

Sabry only had a moment, and the dance began. First stage, exchange of partners, crossing the space, hands low or holding another’s. Sabry eyed the potential takings for rings or low unguarded jewels. The formidable Usoan lady wore a pair of glittering blue sapphires in rings that crackled with power which Sabry decided were too tight to risk, while the male Usoan had a pair of chains leading to a pocket watch. A gold embroidered handkerchief poked out of a low pocket, but Sabry decided against such easy pickings.

The Paire-Kondura dancers eyed Sabry as she passed, and she saw Lord Cheme lean protectively into Grigor Almaz, only for a second. She averted her eyes and focused on her prizes.

She exchanged partners with the Usoan man, and while he looked to his new partner, Sabry dived into his pocket and with a flick of her wrist, lifted his watch and deposited it in her dress pocket. She hesitated, certain that someone must have seen, and missed a step. The Usoan lady took her hand forcefully, and she heard someone tut loudly as she slipped back into formation.

Her cheeks flushed and she kept her head down. Keep calm, don’t panic, and definitely don’t look like you’ve done something wrong. She glanced down at Grigor’s waist, where his swift turns threw out a skirt of emeralds.

He took her hands, gazing into Sabry’s eyes, and pulled her close. He stared into her, his brows quizzical, as though coming to a slow but inevitable conclusion. She feigned a stumble and slipped a decently sized emerald out of its loop with a hand put out to stop her fall. Someone muttered disapprovingly.

“Are you alright my lady?” Grigor whispered anxiously. “You seem distracted.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, steadying herself and moving off. “I’m just more used to waltzes.”

She took a deep breath and moved off to exchange with Lord Cheme.

“You seem to be missing your steps, young lady,” he said under his breath. “Try not to make us all look like provincial fools.”

“You’ll manage fine without me,” Sabry whispered back, almost grinning with glee.

That’ll teach you to send your bloody dinner back three times for being too cold, she thought. She changed partners again before he could retort, and left him to stew.

The pace picked up. The Usoan gentleman kicked his heels up as he crossed the floor, earning a loud 'Hey!’ from his fellows and light applause from the locals.

Sabry laughed as she crossed again. To hell with the heist and to hell with the fear, she was having fun. Everything seemed bright and cheery, even Lord Cheme. As the final steps came, Sabry reunited with Grigor, breathless but grinning ear to ear. He looked at her with a little reserve.

“Perhaps we should get you a drink, my lady,” he said, frowning with concern. “And a seat.”

“Ahem, yes, yes, of course.”

Sabry touched the back of her hand to her glowing cheeks, and she breathed a sigh of relief as it came away clean. Adana’s make up had passed the test this. Grigor took her arm as though she might faint at any moment and guided her over to a chair at the edge of the room.

“You know, you dance the quadrille like a natural,” he said.

“You sound surprised,” she said, smiling out of the corner of her mouth.

“You said you didn’t attend many dances,” he said. “And besides, I’ve spent time in the company of girls who dance more and less well than you.”

Sabry smiled. “Kind of you to say so.”

“It’s true,” he said, guiding her into a seat.

She flinched as he clicked his fingers again, but a glass of ice and wine arrived and Sabry felt nearly too relieved to be angry at him.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you,” said Grigor. “I have responsibilities to my father’s household, and I’m sure he’d like me to make connections among the Paire-Kondurans.”

“Right, yes, of course,” she said. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Grigor gave a shallow bow.

“Your servant.”

He turned about and strolled towards a cluster of Usoans, and Sabry noted with satisfaction that she had taken emeralds evenly enough from his shirt hem as to be unnoticeable.

Her haul felt good, the cool weight of stones and gold against her legs. Just the bodice compartments and she could go. It’d be a shame to cut the evening short, she mused as she picked at a whole jellied tangerine and sipped her wine, but it would be worth it in the end. Even considering the rates that Granny’s fences charged, she easily had nine months wages in her pocket.

She was just congratulating herself when a shadow fell across her. A Pairean or Konduran woman stood over her, the ruffles her dress making her seem twice the size.

“You seem friendly with Lord Almaz,” she said.

Sabry took a moment to take her in, eyes lingering over her waist, in case she had anytime worth taking.

“He’s the only man who’s spoken to me tonight,” Sabry replied, shrugging.

“Well he seemed taken with you. From casual observation.”

Sabry didn’t know how to respond, so she just nodded back and ate another piece of tangerine.

“A word of advice, speak to a few other men tonight,” the woman said, leaning forward, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Lord Almaz has been taking undue attention in more than a few women in our fair cities tonight, and it’ll hurt your prospects to seem so chummy with a foreigner. Especially an Usoan.”

Sabry frowned and looked up at the woman, past her ruffles of deep green material around her skirts and up at her stern face. “What…”

“But I forget myself,” she said, lightly as though she hadn’t just issued such a strange warning. “I am Lady Ghazna, pleasure to meet you…?”

“Lady Uli Kondura,” Sabry said, offering her hand guardedly.

“An august family,” said Lady Ghazna, with a knowing smile. “You’ve done well for yourself to be invited here.”

“Indeed,” said Sabry, shifting in her seat and casting about for an opening in another conversation, preferably with lots of Usoans with poorly-stitched jewels.

“I don’t believe I saw your name on the guest list. Who did you come with?”

“Lord Eychim.”

“I thought he was down with a summer cold.”

“He insisted I go without him,” Sabry said, then realised she had spoken too quickly.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, a strange smile stretching across her face.

“How unlike him to invite a woman on his own behalf, especially one so young.”

“He and my father are old friends.”

“Is he? I don’t recall Lord Eychim ever associating with the surname Uli Kondura,” Lady Ghazna responded, watching Sabry squirm.

“I think it’s very interesting that you’re here without Lord Eychim, very interesting that you have come here with someone else to be responsible for your behaviour,” she went on, drawing close, her voice hushed, but piercing. “But mark my words, being present on someone else’s invitation is not license. You’d do well to bear that in mind.”

Sabry stood abruptly, hoping to find an escape from this disaster of a conversation. She straightened her dress and opened her mouth to make her excuse and leave. 

“Of course I checked my ruddy pockets!”

The outburst came from a familiar Usoan man in a dragonfly blue jacket, pacing the dancefloor, head down in bafflement.

In retrospect, the watch was a bit much, Sabry thought as she stood, unable to tear her eyes from the scene as the Usoan berated those around him and patted himself down. The band leader repeated the last few bars, glancing around for Lord Avro to clear the floor for the next dance.

“Goodness, what’s gotten into Lord Ganesbor?” said Lady Ghazna, but Sabry didn’t really hear it, like Lady Ghazna spoke from the other end of a long corridor.

Her heart hammered in her chest. The doors at either end of the ballroom filled with onlookers, drawn by the sound of the fuss, and tantalised by the obvious absence of their host. She saw Grigor hurry over and try to calm his countryman, but Lord Ganesbor seemed far too bad tempered to listen. He waved his hand vaguely, muttering some kind of charm, a finding spell or something. The crowd muttered amongst itself. The watch in Sabry’s pocket felt as heavy as lead.

She made a choice. Trying not to think about Lady Ghazna, she put on a frown and walked over the dance floor, coming up behind Grigor. She deposited the watch in his pocket just as it began to chime, like a tiny grandfather clock.

All eyes turned and for a second Sabry felt sure they rested on her, but Ganesbor stared straight at Grigor.

“I say, it’s in your coat!” he said. “Give it here!”

Grigor fished the watch out, eyes wide and baffled. The lord snatched it back, looping the chain back around his button, checking it fastidiously.

“I swear, I have no idea how it came to be there, Lord Ganesbor,” he said.

“Hmph, well, it seems undamaged,” he said, wiping the glass face with the hem of his shirt. “Although I find it hard to credit you wouldn’t notice such a weight.”

“If I may, sirs,” said Sabry, her heart leaping into her mouth, “I imagine it’s some Pairean comedian, trying to make some fun for themselves with a small spell to displace your watch. In terrible taste, I must say.” 

“I should say,” Lord Ganesbor said, scowling. He turned to Grigor, offering his hand. “Call it even, my lord.”

“I shall keep better watch of my pockets in future, and you can keep your pocketwatch,” Grigor replied, earning a ripple of sycophantic laughter.

“The second waltz, if you please,” he said, with a gesture to the conductor. “My thanks, my lady. I suppose it was naive of me to assume Paire-Kondura had no magical tricksters of its own. 

“Not at all, my lord,” she said.

She gave a small sigh of relief and moved back, contenting herself with cutting a pearl off a Pairean dress that came too close to her. Hardly payback for a pocket watch, but something to salve her confidence.

With the floor show concluded, the crowds by the doors dispersed, and Sabry felt a weight lift from her chest, but it wasn’t time to go yet. She had to make good her loss. She moved across the dancefloor, passing close to the waltzing pairs just setting up for the latest dance. They performed in a new Usoan style, and Sabry watched out the corner of her eye as a Pairean man who didn’t know the proper steps tripped. She slipped into his path and bumped into him hard, earning a warning look from his partner, and a muttered apology from him. She backed away and apologised back, hand on her heart to slip a ruby from his back into her bodice.

She turned back to the outskirts of the ballroom and spotted an Usoan with her head in her hands sat near a table of drinks, studiously ignored by the partygoers around her.

Sabry walked up beside the woman. Her dress had the barest minimum of lace to still be admissible at an event like this, and its dark folds stood in contrasts to the bright, vibrant colours of the other Usoans. Sabry noted a large golden necklace with a shining carnelian in it around the woman’s neck, too bright and too colourful for such a muted outfit. Her makeup looked smudged, and she held a small handkerchief marked with black eyeliner.

“Bloody city,” Sabry heard her mutter. “I missed the Borado cotillion for this…”

“There there,” said Sabry, placing a sympathetic hand on the woman’s shoulder and eyeing the constellation of diamonds running down her unfashionably sheer sleeves.

“Linsey’s ditched me for that local lout, and none of these yokels will give me the time of day,” the woman muttered, looking up and seeing Sabry’s outfit. Her face fell, her bitterness lost in a storm of embarrassment.

“Tell me about it,” Sabry said, trying for a sympathetic tone and keeping her hand on the woman’s sleeve. The diamonds shifted and swirled in expensive patterns, and she didn’t want to risk tearing the dress.

The woman sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, just feel so ill-used. Even the Duke has excused himself,” she said, bitterly. “I’m just here as bloody set dressing for those ruddy Almaz’s.”

“I’m sure the Duke wouldn’t have asked you to come if he didn’t want you here,” said Sabry, her voice low, trying to keep her companion quiet.

“Hah, I wish,” she said, bitterly and a little too loudly. “I couldn’t have refused if I wanted to. Someone has to look after that idiot brother of mine.”

Sabry crouched down in front of the woman, her hand moving down her shoulder, liberating a line of squirming diamonds with only a tiny tearing sound. She silently prayed that the woman was too far gone to notice or care.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” Sabry said, smiling up at the woman.

“Leave me,” the woman said, looking up and blinking away tears. “I don’t want to ruin your evening too.”

Sabry almost felt guilty for the strip of diamonds she’d taken; the woman’s dress looked lopsided now, not helped by her streaked makeup. She glanced over her shoulder at the nobles nearby whispering behind their hands, and the servants carefully avoiding her gaze. Her eyes met Lady Ghazna’s, stood maybe six feet away with a knowing look and a growing smile on her face. She advanced towards Sabry, her heels clicking as she moved in to make a scene.

An ice-cold jag of terror ran down her spine. Time to leave.

She turned and walked towards the door, not too fast so as not to attract attention and to stay steady in her heels. Ghazna seemed to have no such preoccupations, using the bulk of her own dress to push between guests. Sabry strolled out the door, past small clusters of guests around the ballroom doors, and down a corridor into the east wing.

She weaved between groups of Usoans and Paireans drinking in doorways, dodging past servants who tried not to meet her worried eyes, every second feeling as though Lady Ghazna were about to lay a hand on her shoulder.

Come on, think rationally. She knew this place better than Lady Ghazna ever could; between the two of them, who had swept and polished every floor in here? Who knew the most efficient route? Sabry ducked down a connecting hallway lined with Monarchy-era tapestries (mostly scenes of warships at sea), slipped into a hallway, then behind a curtain which concealed an ugly bare stone passageway that Lord Avro never seemed to get around to doing up. She slipped into a side closet full of brooms, then tucked herself into the smaller gap at the back where some wonderful labourer had simply nailed a wooden panel over an old fireplace rather than brick the space back up.

She held her breath and waited. Footsteps padded past in a hurry down the corridor, stopped, paused, doubled back, and finally padded away. Sabry sighed with relief and edged her way out of her hiding place. She patted off the worst of the dust and slipped back into the corridor.

Time to get back to the folding room. She knew several routes, assuming demand for wine and nibbles stayed low and the servants avoided certain entrances. She ducked down a corridor and past a door from where she heard the thin voice of Lord Avro.

“Look, Teador, the number of people you’re talking about, I can’t-”

“Bugger ‘can't’,” came the baritone of Duke Almaz. “Your position is on the line here. You find me-”

Sabry hurried on, looking for the western cellar entrance, disguised in rare moment of flair as a wooden wall panel. She ran a hand along the wall, searching for the hidden catch, under a teak bunch of grapes. Her finger caught on it and she turned to open the door.

“Lady Uli Kondura!”

Her head jerked in surprise, eyes wide. Grigor stood behind her, taken aback by her sudden movement, maybe a foot from her.

“My lady, are you alright?” He said, brows furrowed in concern. “I saw you leave in a hurry and worried for you.”

Sabry leaned her weight against the wall, her heart ready to burst.

“I… I…” she stuttered, “I feel a little unwell. I was only going to take a walk in the gardens for some fresh air.”

“Might I accompany you?” Grigor said, offering his hand.

Oh Hell’s bells, Sabry thought. “My lord I’m flattered,” she said, a little more brusque than she intended as the courtly language began to grate on her, “but… but I could not accept such an offer.”

“Whyever not?”

Because… because you have your position to consider,” said Sabry. “Your responsibilities to your household…”

“I’m sure they can look after themselves for the evening,” said Grigor.

Sabry slowly realised this was a man who had never been told ‘no’ before in his life, and would need letting down gently, but she hardly had the time for that. She took a deep breath.

“My lord, I must insist-”

“There you are.”

Both Grigor and Sabry started at the sound. Lady Ghazna was coming down the corridor towards them, her fan raised, quivering in her hand. Of course, Sabry thought, wishing the earth would open up and swallow her. Of course this disaster could only get worse.

“Lord Almaz, I must insist this woman be removed from the premises this instant and brought before the militia,” said Lady Ghazna, addressing Grigor only. “She is a fraud, has stolen from Lord Avro’s guests, your countrymen, and your household.”

Sabry watched Grigor’s face contort into fury as he turned to Ghazna, just for a second, but it was clearly directed at her, not Sabry.

“Those are bold claims to make. Lady Uli Kondura, have you stolen from anyone here?”

Sabry heard a softness in his tone, caught a sympathetic gaze, and she saw an opportunity.

“Only… only from you, my lord,” she said, her eyes lowered, gazing downwards. From her dress pocket, she produced a single emerald.

“See?” Lady Ghazna said, triumphantly, “she admits-”

“Thank you, Lady Ghazna, for bringing this to my attention,” said Lord Almaz, his eyes resting on the gem. He looked up at Sabry, and she knew she had him. “Miss, we had better discuss this. Would you give us some privacy, Lady Ghazna?”

She started, blinking in surprise at being dismissed in her moment of victory, but here was the son of a Duke from the senior nation telling her to leave, and she had no good recourse.

“Of course, my lord. Don’t let her Konduran tongue lead you astray. Best to cut it out, my lord. It’s the best way with such people.”

“Thank you, Lady Ghazna,” said Grigor, his teeth gritted. “I’ll take that on advisement. Return to the ballroom.”

Lady Ghazna turned and bustled back down the hallway, with one final triumphant look over her shoulder at Sabry before rounding the corner, leaving her alone with Grigor.

“So,” he said, flatly, “you stole an emerald from my shirt, by your own admission. Why?”

Sabry took a deep breath, and told not a lie, but a very specific series of half truths.

“I have… I am as you see me, a gentlewoman thief,” Sabry said, turning the emerald over in her hands, but keeping her eyes on Grigor’s. “My house, Uli Kondura is of the lower city as you said, and I am forced to steal from the wealthiest to make my living. When I arrived here tonight under a false invitation, I thought only to steal from the attendees here but…”

“But what?”

Sabry took a deep breath, and told massive lie.

“I… I found myself unable to do so. From the moment you took my arm, I was… transfixed, helpless, completely off my stride. I was so flustered to be so close to someone so gentle, so elegant… well,” she gave a short chuckle, “you saw the fool of myself I made at the quadrille. I could not possibly commit thefts in such a state, but I had to have a token of you, just something to tell.me that I had truly met you, that it wasn’t merely all a dream. And once I had… well, I could not stay a moment longer in case you found me out.”

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. “Please my lord, forgive me, if not for the many wrongs I have committed then at least for my one sentimental wrong I have done towards you. For the city of Paire to know what crimes I have committed against it… there would be no forgiveness.”

Her legs were shaking, and she kept her head down, submissive, appealing to his mercy, and if not that then his sense of his own power.

“You have committed theft, impersonation, and contravention of sumptuary?”

“I have never been other than I have claimed,” said Sabry, keeping her tone even, but her head down. “I am and always have been Lady Uli Kondura. I have my station if nothing else.”

Grigor let out a small chuckle. “Very well, but you still admit to serious crimes. They are grounds for trial by court at least, or formal duel at worst.”

“Yes, I admit to them all, just as I admit to being smitten by you, my lord.”

She risked looking up, through the dark strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Grigor’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“My Lady, that at least is no crime. But what do you think I should do with you?”

A trick question, she thought, or a test. Or more likely, a chance to showboat.

“My lord, I submit myself to your mercy entirely,” she said, meekly. “Do with me as you think best.”

Grigor smiled in satisfaction, cleared his throat and drew a card from his jacket pocket. “Lady Uli Kondura, would you perhaps be available to visit me during mine and my father’s stay in Paire-Kondura?”

Sabry hesitated, but if this was the price of escape, so be it.

“I shall, at my earliest convenience,” she said, taking the card and slipping it into a breast pocket.

It’s edges shimmered, and swirls of ink resolved into an address somewhere in Paire.

“I shall look forward to it,” he said.

“Of course, my lord.”

They stood there, Grigor sizing her up for a moment, Sabry leaning against the wooden panel, fingers brushing the hidden door catch. Then he bowed deeply and turned to return to the party.

Once he had disappeared round the corner, Sabry slipped through the basement door and shut it firmly behind her. She stood for a moment in the dark, unlit basement stairwell, leaning back on the door as though Grigor was about to try to come through.

What a mess. She’d blown her cover twice and been caught in the act, and Granny was going to chew her head off for this, but she satisfied with the thought that Lady Uli Kondura wouldn’t exist after tonight, and her crimes vanish with her. Nothing linked Sabry to her, besides their common surname.

Sabry walked the nine or so yards of winding corridor, two rights, a left, a duck into a cupboard to avoid a speeding trolley laden with dirty glasses, and she reached the folding room. She stepped inside with a deep sigh of relief, leaning up against the wall. Adana waited inside, rushing over with a bowl of acrid makeup remover.

“Hell in a cell, what did you do?” Adana asked. “I heard Zabine outside saying an Usoan’s lost a watch and is going spare over it, and Lady Ghazna is apparently putting word about there’s been a thief apprehended.”

“Well clearly not,” said Sabry, as Adana mopped at her face. “It’s fine.”

Sabry emptied her pockets and to her surprise, Grigor hadn’t taken the emeralds back. They glinted among the other gems

“Is that it?” she said, lip curled.

“I did my best,” Sabry shot back, untying her dress and slipping out of it. “And those are emeralds, Adana, from Lord Almaz’s own shirt.”

She took the damp pad from Adana, feeling the weight of her false face falling away as she rinsed it off.

“Where’d you put my uniform?”

“Third hamper on the left,” said Adana.

She wrapped the takings up in a dark woollen scarf decorated with warding sigils, blind eyes, and moles. With any luck it would hide the goods from any effort to spot them by magic, at least for long enough to get them to a decent fence.

Sabry took off her dress, and the last vestiges of Lady Uli Kondura vanished from her face. She put her peachy-orange servant’s uniform back on, lace tickling her wrists. She held Zvy’s beautiful grey and white dress, and wished for a moment she could keep it, but it was too incriminating. It would have to go. She rolled it up and stuffed it into Adana’s kit.

“You’d better not have dropped us in it,” said Adana, sitting up on a laundry hamper. “I’d hate to end up in the Barbican stockade on account of a haul that weak.”

Sabry sighed. “Don’t worry, Lady Uli Kondura takes the fall, remember?”

“Still though,” Adana went on, picking lint off her dress. “How’d you get found out anyway?”

“Lady Ghazna caught me,” said Sabry. “She took an interest. I wasn’t careful enough.”

Adana smiled. “Not like you not to take care. At least you can admit you got caught, mind.”

“Shut up, Adana,” Sabry shot back. “I’ve had a rough evening.”

“Oh sure, hobnobbing with the nobs counts as a rough evening,” Adana said, folding her arms. “I’ve been stuck down here wondering if it’s you or the militia I’ll see next.”

“Well you saw me, didn’t you,” said Sabry. “So stop fretting, alright?”

Adana turned her head to the window, peering up into the summer darkness outside. She bit her lip, consciously trying to defuse the tension.

“What are we going to tell Granny?” she said.

“You don’t have to tell her anything. It’s my fault, I’ll handle the debrief.”

“That’s… brave.”

“It’s necessary. Besides, I’ve got something she’s going to want to see,” Sabry said, fishing Grigor’s card out of the white dress’ bodice.

She held it between two fingers, letting it catch the light, the silvery lettering glinting in the folding room’s light. Adana leaned forward, squinting in disbelief.

“Grigor Almaz, Viscount Gralhane…” she gasped. “You pulled? On a heist?”

Sabry grinned. “Nothing so coarse. He just wanted to see Lady Uli Kondura for tea and biscuits, and a discussion of her dark and mysterious past.”

“Shut up! No way! Grigor Almaz wants to get you in bed?”

“You don’t need to sound so surprised, I can be very persuasive.”

“I’ll bet you can,” said Adana.

Her eyes were wide in awe, her earlier sharpness completely forgotten now someone’s sex life had come up for discussion.

“He is a gentleman, Adana,” Sabry said, through her wide smile. “He would never stoop so low.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” said Adana. “Granny is really going to want to hear about this.” 

The clock over the door chimed shift’s end, and through the window Sabry heard the sounds of the party moving out onto the lawn

“Right, we’d better get moving. Pass by the boiler room?” she said, hefting the party dress. “We’ve got to burn the evidence after all.”

Adana gave Sabry a curious kind of look, half admiration, half jealousy.

“Keep a hold of it,” she said. “We might all need the services of Lady Uli Kondura again.”

They left the room, bustled out into the hall, and said nothing else about it. They stashed the takings and the dress in a space behind a loose brick by the wine cellar door where Granny would retrieve them later, and after that, they had glasses to wash, bed warmers to deliver, corridors to sweep, guests to avoid, and an entire house to tidy up. Sabry Uli Kondura fell into her work like a wheel into a rut, but Grigor’s card sat against her heart the entire time, jabbing into her, a constant reminder, of danger, but also of promise. She only hoped Granny would see it the same way.

[skillzme]

10 Fun Super Mario Facts You Never Knew You Wanted To Know [Infographic]

When you think of Mario, you probably have a certain image in your head. If you're like a lot of folks, you see a cartoony middle-aged plumber with a fungus addiction. Let's take a look at some of this and more fun Super Mario facts you did not knew you want to know.

Digital Marketing is not anymore like traditional Marketing, now Marketers need a proof of their investment. But according to Shigeru Miyamoto, creator of Mario, you might have been misinterpreting Nintendo's iconic mascot for decades. In a recently re-published interview from 2005, Miyamoto stated that there weren't any strict guidelines or definitions when it came to Mario lore. "I think it was fortuitous that we didn't put any restrictions on Mario as a character (...) Normally when you create a character and present him to the world, all the details get filed in: what's his favourite colour? what kind of food does he like to eat? But aside from the fact that he's about 24-25 years old, we didn't define anything else." Though Mario has appeared in games for over 30 years, he's apparently still young enough to stay on his parents' health insurance. That's probably a good thing, since the Mushroom Kingdom benefits package is mostly comprised of cake and kisses on the cheek. So what's the story about Super Mario and Donkey Kong? So, Mario and Donkey Kong didn’t exactly get along in the first Donkey Kong game. Donkey Kong captured his lady, Mario had to climb a bunch of ladders and get her back, let’s just say they didn’t end on good terms. But what does Mario do in response? He captures Donkey Kong from the wild, locks him in a cage, and then sends out his bullwhipped animal minions to stop DK’s son, Donkey Kong Jr., from saving his father. I don’t even know where to begin with this. Obviously, there’s an element of animal cruelty here, but it’s exacerbated by the fact that DK and his son are self-aware, and Jr. is watching his father dangled in front of his face before Mario sweeps him away to the next stage. Super Mario is one sick puppy. Mario Once Went To Battle With Monsters From Hell Yes, you read that correctly. Super Mario, along with Kirby and Link from The Legend of Zelda once went to battle against the worst the underworld had to offer in a comic strip featured in German gaming magazine, Club Nintendo. Simply called Super Mario in the Night of Horror, the plot of the comic is this: Mario, along with Kirby and Link, must defend their Brooklyn skyscraper and Princess Peach from Abigor, a demon, and his evil forces, which include such classic horror characters as Leatherface and Chuckie. Using Van Helsing’s weapons and drinking “red serum,” the Nintendo heroes are able to drive the evil back. Remarkably, this story is actually part one of a two-part arc, just in case you really need that Mario/horror itch scratched. Luigi was originally colored green because of technological limitations Luigi has gotten the short end of the stick for most of his life. For the most part, he's always been mentioned in relation to his more famous sibling; most know him as "Mario's brother" or "Player 2" or "Green Mario." This goes back to the creation of the original "Mario Bros." game -- not the classic sidescroller, but the weird single-screen arcade game. You might have played a variation of it in Super Mario Bros. 3's battle mode. See, Nintendo wanted another character for multiplayer purposes, but they had limited memory. So Luigi (which is close to the Japanese word "ruiji," which means "similar") was built as an exact copy of his brother. But when it came time to design Luigi's clothes, Nintendo had a problem. They couldn't very well give him the exact same wardrobe as Mario, but they didn't have a ton of memory left over for the palette. So, making do with what they had, Luigi borrowed the color from the Koopa's green shell. You can eat the dolphins in the Japanese version of Super Mario World (but not in the US) One of the most memorable levels in Super Mario World has to be "Vanilla Secret #3." There's a reason that it's often called "The Dolphin Level," as porpoises bound across the screen, acting as mobile platforms for Mario to travel across. It's not the toughest level in the game, but its And it's way different in Japan. Should you visit Vanilla Secret #3 while playing the US version of SMW, you'll find that the cute, cuddly dolphins are immune to Yoshi's tongue. But in the Japanese version of the game, these dolphins are just as eatable as any apple or koopa you might come across. No one is really sure why this is, but there are a couple of theories out there. One suggests that Western audiences were particularly attached to dolphins during the early 90s, as anyone with a Lisa Frank Peechee folder could attest. Some think that it was actually a way to make the game easier for dummies in the US, since allowing players to swallow the dolphins is essentially letting them destroy the quickest path across the level. Mario Almost Had A Gun It’s hard to imagine now, but originally, a shoot-’em-up stage was planned for Super Mario Bros. From Shigeru Miyamoto: “We originally thought about having a shoot-’em-up stage where Mario jumps on a cloud and shoots at enemies” It’s crazy to imagine Nintendo’s golden boy wielding a gun and dropping enemies in the Mushroom Kingdom with a bullet to the head, but it was almost a reality. For shame. What would Batman think? Of course, the game ended up going in a very different direction, and Mario’s ammunition was supplied instead by fireballs. Because setting someone on fire instead of shooting them is far more humane. Mario, you’re the worst, man.   Mario Is Not Aging Well According to Super Mario creator Shigeru Miyamoto, Super Mario is somewhere in the area of 24-25 years old. That’s right, you read that correctly. Super Mario, a short, round, mustached man who, realistically, looks like he’s probably in his early forties, is in his mid-twenties. What is going on? There are a few possible explanations. First, Mario’s repeated trips to the Mushroom Kingdom, a different dimension than the one he is from, are somehow taking a toll on his brain, metabolism, and physical appearance. Another is that Mario’s rampant drug use (as we learned from the previous item on this list) is catching up to him. He’s like a video game Keith Richards, or something. Just another reason crack is whack, kids. And if you’re a kid reading this, stop! I thought I made it clear this was not for you. Bowser Had His Own Show…And It Would Terrify You Everyone remembers The Super Mario Bros. Super Show, the Mario Brothers cartoon featuring professional wrestler Captain Lou Albano as Mario. What far fewer people remember is the short-lived King Koopa’s Kool Kartoons, KKKK for short (or just “whoops” for really short), a show that featured an actor clad in a Koopa costume that managed to somehow walk the line of looking both cheap and terrifying simultaneously. The show consisted of Koopa queuing up public domain cartoons for a live audience of children, all of whom were outfitted in Koopa themed hats and shirts, which didn’t do much to take away from the idea all of them were being held against their will. The show enjoyed a lengthy run from 1989-1990 and was only broadcast in Southern California. There Are Two “Adult Industry” Movies Based On The Mario Games OH, WE’RE GETTING INTO IT NOW. Yes, you read that correctly. Shot in 1993, Super Hornio Brothers and Super Hornio Brothers II are two”adult” films based on the Super Mario Bros.‘s video game adventure, and even feature Ron Jeremy as Mario, or, as he’s called in the film, Squeegie Hornio (just for the record, I am enjoying writing this just as much as you are reading it). Nintendo actually purchased the rights to both of these movies in order to make sure they were never released to the general public. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that was a pretty good call. Ok, good to know, let's continue with some more intersting fun Super Mario facts. Super Mario Sunshine has a secret Zelda cameo There are plenty of odds and ends that don't add up in Super Mario Sunshine, but one of the most intriguing mysteries has already been solved by the community. Though obviously a human, Il Piantissimo shows up "disguised" as one of the local Piantas to race Mario in a series of challenges. You never get to see under his mask in the game, but fans hacked apart the code to figure out the speedster's true identity. What's under that mask will shock you! Well, unless you played Zelda games on the Nintendo 64. Though a little shorter in stature, the man is known as Il Piantissimo is undoubtedly the same person known as the "Running Man" in Ocarina of time, and the mailman in Majora's Mask. Fans can find just about anything if they have a set goal in mind. Maybe if they look hard enough into Super Mario Sunshine, they can find a good game. Enjoy the Infographic summarizing all we heard now, or have been reading about our 10 Fun Super Mario Facts you never knew you wanted to know. Another of Fun Super Mario Facts, he has a new Job The economy is hard in the year 2017 and so had Super Mario also the need to look for new income since his plumping business is really leaving out. Watch the Video from the recent Jimmy Fallon Latenight Show. Before we end our story about Fun Super Mario Facts here a bonus: Super Mario Might Be A Mass Murderer From the Super Mario Bros manual: “One day, the kingdom of the peaceful Mushroom Kingdom people was invaded by the Koopa, a tribe of turtles famous for their black magic. The quiet, peace-loving Mushroom People were turned into mere stones, bricks, and even field horsehair plants, and the Mushroom Kingdom fell into ruin.” Hang on a second. Wait a minute. Backup. What was that last part? They were all turned into stones and bricks? Aren’t those…exactly what you spend the entire game destroying? By that logic, with every brick you smash, you are in fact, taking the life of an innocent denizen of the Mushroom Kingdom. You’ll never look at Mario the same way again. But your kids still can. Because hopefully, you kept them far away from this list. But when they’re old enough, take it out, sit them down, and tell them the true story of the “Super” Mario. Oh, brother. If you enjoyed reading leave us a comment and share our blog, thank you. Link: Mario Games - Nintendo's Official Home for Super Mario Nintendo's official home for Mario. Check out new, popular, and classic Mario games for the Wii U, Wii,Nintendo 3DS, Nintendo 2DS, Nintendo DS, and more Click to Post

[endlessarchite]

Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING)

When we were visiting the Bowers this weekend, we shared some fleeting photos of a super adorable kids bookstore on Instagram stories. Then we got a barrage of messages and comments to the tune of: PLEASE DO A POST ABOUT THIS STORE SO IT WON’T BE GONE IN 24 HOURS! So here we are, with those photos (and some more we didn’t share on IG) for anyone who’s looking for some fun kids room ideas. Or adult room ideas. We all LOVED this place so much. It’s in Monroe, Georgia and it’s called The Story Shop – and it’s the cutest bookstore we’ve ever seen. You think I’m exaggerating with that description but in the words of Hamilton: just you wait.

See that grand bookcase, library ladder, and globe collection? It’s like all of the elements of a cool old library executed in a fresh and playful way. And we loved that happy aqua accent wall (try Benjamin Moore’s Misty Teal for a similar look – just on one wall, a door, or a piece of furniture to avoid overwhelming a room). But my favorite part of this store’s entry was that little old TV under the pink side table. Written on it in white were the words “read instead.”

The other thing that caught my eye right away was this wallpaper which is Wild by Chasing Paper (yes, I asked a million questions while walking around with my mouth open). It’s peel & stick, so it’s removable and they said it was really easy to hang. It’d be so cute in a kids room on the wall behind the bed. I also loved those colorful animal heads (this one and this one) that they painted in bright colors and then added funny things (glasses! a crown! a mustache!). And of course the handmade sign with literary locales was just one of many clever book references throughout the store.

Speaking of magical book references, look at this armoire, er, wardrobe that LEADS TO A HIDDEN ROOM! Kids could climb right through it and it was SUCH A HIT. Let the record state that grown ups were doing it too. Fun for the whole family. Also – we’ve actually seen an armoire like this in a grown up bedroom space that led to a secret closet and it was equally mesmerizing. Just a really fun and unexpected idea for a home or a shop.

I realize this begs the question: what’s behind the wardrobe? It wasn’t lions or witches, but there was a whale involved. It led to their storytelling room, which was ridiculously fun. And it was really smart of them to fill the big space with two identical rugs (I tracked down the exact rugs they used) rather than to have to splurge on (or maneuver) one giant rug for the room.

Speaking of secret spaces, there was also a little round Hobbit hole door that led to a tiny play space for kids to hang out in. I remember a children’s clothing store growing up that had a little hole for kids to enter through instead of the main door and I LOVED GOING (and I hated every other clothing store by comparison). We actually featured a home in our second book with a secret “mousehole” passageway between two kids’ rooms that I’m still thinking about three years after we shot it (it’s on page 302, btw).

Here’s another shot of that hobbit hole in use, and you can also see some other fun touches, like that awesome brick wall they swarmed with butterflies (something we also did in our playroom!) and the felt garland they strung from a piece of driftwood (I think this is the garland they used, but Etsy has tons of other options). Oh and see Peter Pan’s shadow? They didn’t miss a single opportunity to add in little storybook nods wherever they could.

Our kids (there were 6 of ’em between us and the Bowers!) immediately found their way to the swing that the store (bravely) hung in one corner. Everyone managed to take turns, mostly peacefully, and no one knocked over the incredible peaked bookcase village that displayed stories from all over the world – so I’d call that a win. You could easily DIY a little “cityscape” of bookcases like this, or purchase pre-made ones like this and this to recreate it on a smaller scale.

Also… hanging books. Do you see them suspended from the ceiling by strings? They had bent their pages like origami so they stayed fanned open, kind of like these. They were so much fun to look at from below (and they gave me flashbacks to the most recent season of Orange Is The New Black, which was so good you guys). Also those books in the foreground stole my heart. Especially this one about Frida Kahlo and this one about Maya Angelou.

They sold a few little toys, costumes, and t-shirts, so you’d figure they’d have hanging racks or rods or something for the clothing. NOPE. Colorful chairs hung from the wall. With Humpty Dumpty balancing on one of them. Because that’s how they roll.

Also, back to the big bookcase from the first picture. All of the art in the store had some sort of literary reference in it (including these Baby Lit prints they sold) which added to the whole “reading is fun” vibe of the place. And who noticed the rose in the cloche on the bookcase with the ladder? BELLE, right?! I’m telling you, there were so many cute hidden gems like that in here. Also, see the Cheshire Cat disappearing into that chair in the corner? They just ironed a mouth right onto the chair. These people could not have put more thought into this space. I know I’m gushing, but they deserve every last gush.

Here’s a close up of the rainbow books on the shelf. This little lineup of hardcover classic books by Puffin made my heart ache for a collection of my very own. Also, the Penguin ones below them. I might even let the kids read them too ;)

THEY EVEN FRIGGIN’ MADE GIANT PAPER FLOWERS like the queen’s roses that were painted in Alice In Wonderland. I mean. At this point I might have been hyperventilating.

Oh and see that room off to the right in the photo above? That’s the party room. Kids (and grown ups!) can have parties here and let me tell you, THEY DO NOT PHONE IT IN. The one they were prepping for was Peter Pan themed, and the table was full of sweet references, like thimbles in a bowl labeled “Kisses From Wendy” and a ticking clock like the one a certain crocodile swallowed. They also do Alice In Wonderland and other themes. I’m a 35-year-old woman and I want a party there now. “I want a feast! I want a bean feast!” (name that movie… based on a book, of course).

I also loved all of the twinkle lights they hung overhead (who says you can’t do that in a kids room – or your own room?!). Those plus the “grass” on the wall and the string lights made this whole room feel like an outdoor courtyard. Or perhaps a tea party with a certain mad host.

Also, THIS CHAIR. I can’t. I just can’t.

No wait, THIS CHAIR. Nothing makes my heart go pitter patter like a hand-carved bunny (let the record state that ten minutes before seeing this chair I never knew that was my thing).

Even the back of the store was witty and charming. Have you ever seen a more clever way to keep customers out of the employees-only area?

Bonus footage: I did my best Belle impression while Katie stole a chance to rest her feet. I know how to act in public, I swear. “No denying she’s a funny girl that Bellllllle.”

So if you’re ever passing through Monroe, Georgia or if you live nearby I hope you have a chance to see The Story Shop for yourself. Even if you don’t live very close, this place is totally road-trip worthy! And when we shared some pics on Instagram we actually heard from the designer, whose name is Stephanie Cannon, and get this – she reads our blog and listens to our podcast (!!!!!). She was so sweet and actually saw us when we were in Monroe, so it was really funny because she thought she was fangirling us, but you guys, I AM TOTALLY FANGIRLING HER.

PS: John here, and now for a minor public service announcement to end this bookish post – please support your local independent bookstores. They may not be as cheap or easy to shop at as Amazon or B&N, but we’ve all seen a certain documentary called You’ve Got Mail, right? All kidding aside, we try to make it a habit of purchasing from great stores like these so that there can continue to be great stores like these. Okay, off my soapbox!

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING) appeared first on Young House Love.

Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING) published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

[amplepower]

Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING)

When we were visiting the Bowers this weekend, we shared some fleeting photos of a super adorable kids bookstore on Instagram stories. Then we got a barrage of messages and comments to the tune of: PLEASE DO A POST ABOUT THIS STORE SO IT WON’T BE GONE IN 24 HOURS! So here we are, with those photos (and some more we didn’t share on IG) for anyone who’s looking for some fun kids room ideas. Or adult room ideas. We all LOVED this place so much. It’s in Monroe, Georgia and it’s called The Story Shop – and it’s the cutest bookstore we’ve ever seen. You think I’m exaggerating with that description but in the words of Hamilton: just you wait.

See that grand bookcase, library ladder, and globe collection? It’s like all of the elements of a cool old library executed in a fresh and playful way. And we loved that happy aqua accent wall (try Benjamin Moore’s Misty Teal for a similar look – just on one wall, a door, or a piece of furniture to avoid overwhelming a room). But my favorite part of this store’s entry was that little old TV under the pink side table. Written on it in white were the words “read instead.”

The other thing that caught my eye right away was this wallpaper which is Wild by Chasing Paper (yes, I asked a million questions while walking around with my mouth open). It’s peel & stick, so it’s removable and they said it was really easy to hang. It’d be so cute in a kids room on the wall behind the bed. I also loved those colorful animal heads (this one and this one) that they painted in bright colors and then added funny things (glasses! a crown! a mustache!). And of course the handmade sign with literary locales was just one of many clever book references throughout the store.

Speaking of magical book references, look at this armoire, er, wardrobe that LEADS TO A HIDDEN ROOM! Kids could climb right through it and it was SUCH A HIT. Let the record state that grown ups were doing it too. Fun for the whole family. Also – we’ve actually seen an armoire like this in a grown up bedroom space that led to a secret closet and it was equally mesmerizing. Just a really fun and unexpected idea for a home or a shop.

I realize this begs the question: what’s behind the wardrobe? It wasn’t lions or witches, but there was a whale involved. It led to their storytelling room, which was ridiculously fun. And it was really smart of them to fill the big space with two identical rugs (I tracked down the exact rugs they used) rather than to have to splurge on (or maneuver) one giant rug for the room.

Speaking of secret spaces, there was also a little round Hobbit hole door that led to a tiny play space for kids to hang out in. I remember a children’s clothing store growing up that had a little hole for kids to enter through instead of the main door and I LOVED GOING (and I hated every other clothing store by comparison). We actually featured a home in our second book with a secret “mousehole” passageway between two kids’ rooms that I’m still thinking about three years after we shot it (it’s on page 302, btw).

Here’s another shot of that hobbit hole in use, and you can also see some other fun touches, like that awesome brick wall they swarmed with butterflies (something we also did in our playroom!) and the felt garland they strung from a piece of driftwood (I think this is the garland they used, but Etsy has tons of other options). Oh and see Peter Pan’s shadow? They didn’t miss a single opportunity to add in little storybook nods wherever they could.

Our kids (there were 6 of ’em between us and the Bowers!) immediately found their way to the swing that the store (bravely) hung in one corner. Everyone managed to take turns, mostly peacefully, and no one knocked over the incredible peaked bookcase village that displayed stories from all over the world – so I’d call that a win. You could easily DIY a little “cityscape” of bookcases like this, or purchase pre-made ones like this and this to recreate it on a smaller scale.

Also… hanging books. Do you see them suspended from the ceiling by strings? They had bent their pages like origami so they stayed fanned open, kind of like these. They were so much fun to look at from below (and they gave me flashbacks to the most recent season of Orange Is The New Black, which was so good you guys). Also those books in the foreground stole my heart. Especially this one about Frida Kahlo and this one about Maya Angelou.

They sold a few little toys, costumes, and t-shirts, so you’d figure they’d have hanging racks or rods or something for the clothing. NOPE. Colorful chairs hung from the wall. With Humpty Dumpty balancing on one of them. Because that’s how they roll.

Also, back to the big bookcase from the first picture. All of the art in the store had some sort of literary reference in it (including these Baby Lit prints they sold) which added to the whole “reading is fun” vibe of the place. And who noticed the rose in the cloche on the bookcase with the ladder? BELLE, right?! I’m telling you, there were so many cute hidden gems like that in here. Also, see the Cheshire Cat disappearing into that chair in the corner? They just ironed a mouth right onto the chair. These people could not have put more thought into this space. I know I’m gushing, but they deserve every last gush.

Here’s a close up of the rainbow books on the shelf. This little lineup of hardcover classic books by Puffin made my heart ache for a collection of my very own. Also, the Penguin ones below them. I might even let the kids read them too ;)

THEY EVEN FRIGGIN’ MADE GIANT PAPER FLOWERS like the queen’s roses that were painted in Alice In Wonderland. I mean. At this point I might have been hyperventilating.

Oh and see that room off to the right in the photo above? That’s the party room. Kids (and grown ups!) can have parties here and let me tell you, THEY DO NOT PHONE IT IN. The one they were prepping for was Peter Pan themed, and the table was full of sweet references, like thimbles in a bowl labeled “Kisses From Wendy” and a ticking clock like the one a certain crocodile swallowed. They also do Alice In Wonderland and other themes. I’m a 35-year-old woman and I want a party there now. “I want a feast! I want a bean feast!” (name that movie… based on a book, of course).

I also loved all of the twinkle lights they hung overhead (who says you can’t do that in a kids room – or your own room?!). Those plus the “grass” on the wall and the string lights made this whole room feel like an outdoor courtyard. Or perhaps a tea party with a certain mad host.

Also, THIS CHAIR. I can’t. I just can’t.

No wait, THIS CHAIR. Nothing makes my heart go pitter patter like a hand-carved bunny (let the record state that ten minutes before seeing this chair I never knew that was my thing).

Even the back of the store was witty and charming. Have you ever seen a more clever way to keep customers out of the employees-only area?

Bonus footage: I did my best Belle impression while Katie stole a chance to rest her feet. I know how to act in public, I swear. “No denying she’s a funny girl that Bellllllle.”

So if you’re ever passing through Monroe, Georgia or if you live nearby I hope you have a chance to see The Story Shop for yourself. Even if you don’t live very close, this place is totally road-trip worthy! And when we shared some pics on Instagram we actually heard from the designer, whose name is Stephanie Cannon, and get this – she reads our blog and listens to our podcast (!!!!!). She was so sweet and actually saw us when we were in Monroe, so it was really funny because she thought she was fangirling us, but you guys, I AM TOTALLY FANGIRLING HER.

PS: John here, and now for a minor public service announcement to end this bookish post – please support your local independent bookstores. They may not be as cheap or easy to shop at as Amazon or B&N, but we’ve all seen a certain documentary called You’ve Got Mail, right? All kidding aside, we try to make it a habit of purchasing from great stores like these so that there can continue to be great stores like these. Okay, off my soapbox!

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING) appeared first on Young House Love.

Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING) posted first on findqueenslandelectricians.blogspot.com

[truereviewpage]

Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING)

When we were visiting the Bowers this weekend, we shared some fleeting photos of a super adorable kids bookstore on Instagram stories. Then we got a barrage of messages and comments to the tune of: PLEASE DO A POST ABOUT THIS STORE SO IT WON’T BE GONE IN 24 HOURS! So here we are, with those photos (and some more we didn’t share on IG) for anyone who’s looking for some fun kids room ideas. Or adult room ideas. We all LOVED this place so much. It’s in Monroe, Georgia and it’s called The Story Shop – and it’s the cutest bookstore we’ve ever seen. You think I’m exaggerating with that description but in the words of Hamilton: just you wait.

See that grand bookcase, library ladder, and globe collection? It’s like all of the elements of a cool old library executed in a fresh and playful way. And we loved that happy aqua accent wall (try Benjamin Moore’s Misty Teal for a similar look – just on one wall, a door, or a piece of furniture to avoid overwhelming a room). But my favorite part of this store’s entry was that little old TV under the pink side table. Written on it in white were the words “read instead.”

The other thing that caught my eye right away was this wallpaper which is Wild by Chasing Paper (yes, I asked a million questions while walking around with my mouth open). It’s peel & stick, so it’s removable and they said it was really easy to hang. It’d be so cute in a kids room on the wall behind the bed. I also loved those colorful animal heads (this one and this one) that they painted in bright colors and then added funny things (glasses! a crown! a mustache!). And of course the handmade sign with literary locales was just one of many clever book references throughout the store.

Speaking of magical book references, look at this armoire, er, wardrobe that LEADS TO A HIDDEN ROOM! Kids could climb right through it and it was SUCH A HIT. Let the record state that grown ups were doing it too. Fun for the whole family. Also – we’ve actually seen an armoire like this in a grown up bedroom space that led to a secret closet and it was equally mesmerizing. Just a really fun and unexpected idea for a home or a shop.

I realize this begs the question: what’s behind the wardrobe? It wasn’t lions or witches, but there was a whale involved. It led to their storytelling room, which was ridiculously fun. And it was really smart of them to fill the big space with two identical rugs (I tracked down the exact rugs they used) rather than to have to splurge on (or maneuver) one giant rug for the room.

Speaking of secret spaces, there was also a little round Hobbit hole door that led to a tiny play space for kids to hang out in. I remember a children’s clothing store growing up that had a little hole for kids to enter through instead of the main door and I LOVED GOING (and I hated every other clothing store by comparison). We actually featured a home in our second book with a secret “mousehole” passageway between two kids’ rooms that I’m still thinking about three years after we shot it (it’s on page 302, btw).

Here’s another shot of that hobbit hole in use, and you can also see some other fun touches, like that awesome brick wall they swarmed with butterflies (something we also did in our playroom!) and the felt garland they strung from a piece of driftwood (I think this is the garland they used, but Etsy has tons of other options). Oh and see Peter Pan’s shadow? They didn’t miss a single opportunity to add in little storybook nods wherever they could.

Our kids (there were 6 of ’em between us and the Bowers!) immediately found their way to the swing that the store (bravely) hung in one corner. Everyone managed to take turns, mostly peacefully, and no one knocked over the incredible peaked bookcase village that displayed stories from all over the world – so I’d call that a win. You could easily DIY a little “cityscape” of bookcases like this, or purchase pre-made ones like this and this to recreate it on a smaller scale.

Also… hanging books. Do you see them suspended from the ceiling by strings? They had bent their pages like origami so they stayed fanned open, kind of like these. They were so much fun to look at from below (and they gave me flashbacks to the most recent season of Orange Is The New Black, which was so good you guys). Also those books in the foreground stole my heart. Especially this one about Frida Kahlo and this one about Maya Angelou.

They sold a few little toys, costumes, and t-shirts, so you’d figure they’d have hanging racks or rods or something for the clothing. NOPE. Colorful chairs hung from the wall. With Humpty Dumpty balancing on one of them. Because that’s how they roll.

Also, back to the big bookcase from the first picture. All of the art in the store had some sort of literary reference in it (including these Baby Lit prints they sold) which added to the whole “reading is fun” vibe of the place. And who noticed the rose in the cloche on the bookcase with the ladder? BELLE, right?! I’m telling you, there were so many cute hidden gems like that in here. Also, see the Cheshire Cat disappearing into that chair in the corner? They just ironed a mouth right onto the chair. These people could not have put more thought into this space. I know I’m gushing, but they deserve every last gush.

Here’s a close up of the rainbow books on the shelf. This little lineup of hardcover classic books by Puffin made my heart ache for a collection of my very own. Also, the Penguin ones below them. I might even let the kids read them too ;)

THEY EVEN FRIGGIN’ MADE GIANT PAPER FLOWERS like the queen’s roses that were painted in Alice In Wonderland. I mean. At this point I might have been hyperventilating.

Oh and see that room off to the right in the photo above? That’s the party room. Kids (and grown ups!) can have parties here and let me tell you, THEY DO NOT PHONE IT IN. The one they were prepping for was Peter Pan themed, and the table was full of sweet references, like thimbles in a bowl labeled “Kisses From Wendy” and a ticking clock like the one a certain crocodile swallowed. They also do Alice In Wonderland and other themes. I’m a 35-year-old woman and I want a party there now. “I want a feast! I want a bean feast!” (name that movie… based on a book, of course).

I also loved all of the twinkle lights they hung overhead (who says you can’t do that in a kids room – or your own room?!). Those plus the “grass” on the wall and the string lights made this whole room feel like an outdoor courtyard. Or perhaps a tea party with a certain mad host.

Also, THIS CHAIR. I can’t. I just can’t.

No wait, THIS CHAIR. Nothing makes my heart go pitter patter like a hand-carved bunny (let the record state that ten minutes before seeing this chair I never knew that was my thing).

Even the back of the store was witty and charming. Have you ever seen a more clever way to keep customers out of the employees-only area?

Bonus footage: I did my best Belle impression while Katie stole a chance to rest her feet. I know how to act in public, I swear. “No denying she’s a funny girl that Bellllllle.”

So if you’re ever passing through Monroe, Georgia or if you live nearby I hope you have a chance to see The Story Shop for yourself. Even if you don’t live very close, this place is totally road-trip worthy! And when we shared some pics on Instagram we actually heard from the designer, whose name is Stephanie Cannon, and get this – she reads our blog and listens to our podcast (!!!!!). She was so sweet and actually saw us when we were in Monroe, so it was really funny because she thought she was fangirling us, but you guys, I AM TOTALLY FANGIRLING HER.

PS: John here, and now for a minor public service announcement to end this bookish post – please support your local independent bookstores. They may not be as cheap or easy to shop at as Amazon or B&N, but we’ve all seen a certain documentary called You’ve Got Mail, right? All kidding aside, we try to make it a habit of purchasing from great stores like these so that there can continue to be great stores like these. Okay, off my soapbox!

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING) appeared first on Young House Love.

Kids Room Ideas From The Cutest Kids Bookstore Ever (Really, It’s AMAZING) published first on http://ift.tt/2qCHnUt