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rachaelmayworth · 5 months

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Bloody Mines: a palia short story (1,7k words)

Rune walked down the front yard of her home, tired and confused. The chill evening air tousling her hair, before she unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Warmth embraced her immediately, banishing the cold from her body, but not from her mind.

She put down the axe she'd been using all afternoon, coming down with a metallic clang as it fell against her partner's axe. The mines were always dark and eerie, but today was different. Today the eerie feeling had become all too real when she spotted that shirt. That damned shirt with the dark stains that had decorated it as it lay discarded on some wooden planks.

Her mind had immediately gone to blood, as the fabric looked perfectly crimson in the candlelight. Though it must have been dirt, she'd reasoned, there was definitely a lot of it in the mines.

But there was more in that mine shaft that had made her feel so uneasy. A perfectly fine satchel, carelessly discarded. A knife? Latched into one of the beams. And the ring-

"Welcome home!" River sang from the kitchen, pulling Rune from her cloud of thought. And just like that, the scent of dinner floated around her, beckoning her warmly. Rune felt a smile creep onto her face as she made her way over, finding River stirring food on the stove, her figure alight with the fire from the oven.

"That smells good," Rune said, wrapping her arms around River's waist, snuggling close to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I've been practicing," River smiled, leaning into Rune's touch. It was nice coming home to her after such a long day. Rune's whirling mind somehow seemed to be quieter with River around.

But then, when dinner was long gone and the garden was looked after, when the fireplace had turned to embers and they were both deep under the covers of their ravenwood bed, Rune's mind was in full steam again.

The stained shirt haunted her, the reddish hue mocking her subconscious. It was sinking its teeth in her, mercilessly tugging at her, screaming to have all her attention. The ring grinned at her in her memory, shimmering grimly in the torchlight.

“Are you okay?" River asked. Her golden eyes gazed into Rune's, worry lapping over her face like a wave.

Rune sighed. Her stomach twisted a little, like it did every time she didn't really want to say something. Because if she did, it would somehow make it more real. “It's silly, nothing really.”

“Are you sure?”

Rune shrugged. River cradled Rune’s hand reassuringly.

“It's something I saw in the mines… it's probably nothing. I mean, it was probably just dirt…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I found a discarded shirt in the mines. Some other stuff too, but- yeah. The shirt.”

"The shirt," River parotted, a little smile forming on her lips. "Okay."

"Well, it's more what was on the shirt," Rune sighed deeply, "I think it may have been blood? But I don't know. It's dark in there. Could have been anything.”

“But you think it's blood.”

“Y-yeah. I think so?”

River smiled in the dark, the yellow of her eyes almost glowing. “Cool.”

Rune snorted. She couldn't help it. “Of course you think it's cool! You didn't see it in real life.”

“I'd still think it's cool if I did see it, though.”

“Yeah, true.”

Rune laughed poking River in the ribs playfully. River just batted her away.

“Careful! Or you can get more acquainted with the couch.”

“Not the couch!” Rune said, mock scared. River just laughed and snuggled closer.

Sleep didn't wait long to claim Rune after that. Sleep that was filled with crimson and unending passageways.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“So, suppose it really is blood,” River said, scooping some soup onto her spoon, “do you think someone got murdered there?”

River's eyes shined too much at the word murder. Rune tried not to think about it too hard, ignoring the curious pull in her core. Instead, she focused on the tavern, where they sat at their regular table, eating their regular soup. She stared down at the green tabletop, the curves and worn grooves as familiar as their own dining table at home.

“Are you guys talking about the Bahari Bay Ripper?”

Rune jumped, utensils clattering as her knees bumped hard against the wood. Some soup slipped into her windpipe and a coughing fit ensued.

Reth stood next to their table, plates in hand, concern on his face as Rune kept coughing. He was the tavern’s cook, although sometimes it felt like he was the cook for the entirety of Kilima. The guy was weirdly intense about it.

“Who's the Bahari Bay Ripper?” River asked, leaning in closer. Rune instead sat back, her appetite having left her. Even though her stomach growled hungrily.

“Well that's- uhm. You guys are talking about the mines right?”

Rune nodded. River cocked her head questioningly.

“Wait, you know about that?” River asked at the same time as Rune said, “you've seen the shirt too?”

“Oh,” Reth flicked his hand nonchalantly, “everyone knows about that. But maybe you should talk to your boyfriend, Rune. He's definitely the one to talk to about this macabre stuff.”

Rune's attention snapped up at the mention of Jel. Reth raised his eyebrows at her. Then he looked around and leaned in conspirally. “I always figured the cartel had something to do with it,” he said thoughtfully, “but then Jel said something peculiar last night in b- I mean, as we passed each other on the street. He said something about losing a ring? Could be unrelated though.” he scratched his head. His cheeks looked a bit red.

Rune's brows furrowed. Her boyfriend was a peculiar person, so it wasn't all that strange if he had said something peculiar as well.

“Jel says weird stuff all the time,” River said, waving her hand dismissively, “that says nothing.”

“Did he say anything else while you guys were…” Rune gestured vaguely.

“When we passed each other on the street,” Reth offered helpfully and untruthfully.

“Right,” Rune said, eyes narrowed.

“Nope. Nothing else. I always try to end the conversations before they're started, anyway. Can't stand the guy.”

Now Rune was the one raising her eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You sure meet up a lot for foes. You're gonna have to try harder if you want your dalliances to go unnoticed.”

Reth's blush deepened several shades. Then his eyes darkened and fixed on Rune's mug. “You done with that?” he asked, then he quickly walked off with it before Rune could give an answer.

“He’s so easily taken off guard,” River smirked. Rune smiled back.

“He makes such a show of hating Jel, it's endearing.”

“So he doesn't hate him?”

“Oh he definitely does, it's just not the only feeling he harbours for him.”

River hummed at that, gazing at Reth’s retreating back. “Can't say I'm surprised.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Rune was so deep in thought as she strolled down the pond with Jel that night, that she didn't notice Jel trying to get her attention until he practically stopped her. She froze mid-stride to meet his gaze, his figure bathing in the waning moonlight. The pond behind him shimmered brightly, its surface silent and smooth like a mirror.

“Where are you in that pretty head of yours? I hate to see you troubled, my muse.” he reached out and squeezed her bicep lightly.

Rune looked down in surprise. His touch was warm and reassuring. And foreign. Jel often avoided touch, even this far into their relationship. So to feel his body so close to hers was something to savour.

She met his gaze, only broken by the pink of his glasses. They glinted in the moonlight, reflecting her bewildered state.

“I'm fine,” Rune said. But even to her ears it sounded unconvincing.

But then peripheral caught another shimmer. She looked down, her subconscious forever drawn by shiny stuff.

And there it was.

On his finger sat the very ring she'd seen in the mines.

That same damned ring that haunted her dreams. That was now forever fused with blood because she didn't know any logical reason why it would be at the scene of a potential crime without it having something to do with it. Anything to do with it.

“What- that's… I…”

“What's wrong?” Jel asked, “you look like you've seen a ghost.”

Rune's mind whirled. “You… you're…”

Jel creeped closer. So close. “Say it.”

“You're t- the Bahari Bay Ripper.”

Jel clasped his hands, looking incredibly pleased. The moon shone from above, casting deep shadows on his face. Rune never realised how sinister his face could look. “I'm so glad you figured it out. I don't know how much longer I could have kept this from you, my muse. Oh, this is simply delightful! Secrets are never good for any relationship, you know.”

Rune could only nod. Her throat felt too constricted to utter any words.

“What do you think, love? Would you consider joining me? I really need four hands for my next project. It's a rather sizable one.”

And just like that, something twisted and clicked inside Rune. Those words weaved through her like a spell, silver ribbons wrapping her up into Jel's sick world. The roaring in her stomach was back, and she realised now it was no hunger, but the rising of a monster.

Jel was looking at her expectantly, no amount of ferocity in his face. Rune wondered how he would react if she said no. But as soon as she thought it, she knew she couldn't.

“So, what do you say?” Jel asked, his eyes sparkling darkly. And somewhere deep down, the monstrous thing that was awakening as if from a deep slumber, clawed up her throat, demanding to be let out. The ringing in her ears grew into a roar, lighting every fiber of her being.

She locked eyes with Jel, knowing he would see that same dark spark reflected in her gaze. She smiled at him. And he smiled right back. Their monsters danced, and they both knew this wouldn't be the end. It was only the beginning.

#palia #palia open beta #palia jel #short story #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr

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ent-is-undecisive · 2 years

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also ive been seeing green little parot type birds in public parks/trees recently and i am mildly worried bc i dont think those types of birds are supposed to live in the wild around here

#theyre very pretty but i'm 99% sure this isnt normal and about 70% sure its gonna be an ecological problem #ent talks

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monstermaster13 · 1 year

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Dr Aykroyd’s House Of Insanity.

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Sometimes what is weird to one person is normal to another and in this universe there is no such word as normal, everyone is weird and insane to some degree. Nathan loved Dan Aykroyd and as such wrote stories about him but he was wholesome about it and wasn’t harming the actual celebrity in question, and as such he was just being himself and there was nothing wrong with that but he wished some of his critics understood that and he wished there was a way to fix it and luckily there he was…he had Were-Aykroyd powers that allowed him to take him on a new persona, Dan the Were-Aykroyd who was a supernatural version of Dan Aykroyd who could hypnotize people and also charm them.

He knew exactly what to do as he got out a medallion he had in his possession and gazed at it, concentration and wishing…’I wish I could teach the people who tell me I'm not normal a lesson.’ ‘A lesson is what you want to teach them, then I shall help you with that.’

Dan Aykroyd’s spirit entered Nathan’s body, morphing him into Dan the Were-Aykroyd and allowing him to think of a plan, he decided to set up a horror house to teach these people a lesson, which converted his house into a horror attraction with real monsters, scares and even some demons. Speaking of those people, that’s where he saw two of them…Thomas Sheppard, who was Stephanie’s boyfriend and his lackey.

“Well, it looks like my first victims are here.”

“What did you call me, you nasty little weed?”

‘You heard me, Thomas. You know, it’s not nice to call others names like that. Maybe you should consider a new line of work that doesn’t make you an ignorant jerkass.’ ‘Maybe you should consider being less of a disgusting creep who does fetish fics of Dan Aykroyd and his dead friend and maybe you shouldn’t be talking about your strange fantasies and sexual fantasies.’ ‘Bla bla bla yeah yeah you think I’m a nasty little freak that needs professional help. Maybe you should see what it’s like to be weird, like me.’

“What do you mean by that?”

Dan chuckled, using his powers to make a ticket manifest in Thomas’s hand. ‘Oooh lookie here, you’ve got a ticket, you can come on in.’ ‘I didn’t ask for a ticket.’ ‘Oh yes you did, look, take a good look at it.’ ‘No way would I ever want to be part of your freakshow.’ ‘You have no choice i’m afraid. Besides, it’s better than parotting what your girlfriend said about me.’

“Parotting?”

Thomas screamed as he found himself suddenly growing feathers and he developed a half beak-like nose, looking like some kind of mutant parrot. ‘Hey! Cut that out?’ ‘Ooops, sorry..what’s that, sorry, dear boy I don’t speak parrot.’ ‘But i’m not a parrot, i’m a human being.’ ‘You don’t look or act like a human being to me.’

“You ain’t normal, you know that right?”

“Of course i’m not normal, but nobody is..now come on, the show is about to begin.”

He panicked as a pair of ghostly hands grabbed him and pulled him into the attraction, Dan, taking on the mad persona of ‘Dr Aykroyd’ showed him all around the attraction…he tried to complain but then Eucalyptus showed up, and summoned some Dan Aykroyd characters to attack him. ‘Next time you have something to say, don’t be a personal puppet for your own girlfriend.’ The green haired koala-girl teased.

“I am not a puppet.”

‘Oh yes you are, you’re like a sock puppet account for her who parrots exactly what she says because you don’t know better. Stephanie got fixed though, but don’t worry you will be fixed too and it will be fun.’ ‘I am not Stephanie’s puppet.’ He protested that remark but he found himself turning into a Spitting Image style puppet version of himself. ‘Oh yes you are, you don’t do anything unless she tells you, you believe what she tells you to believe.’

Several undead beings emerged from the walls and attempted to attack Thomas as ‘Dr Aykroyd’ and Eucalyptus showed him their little horror attraction, and a screen with multiple reflections of him popped up including one that showed him becoming a deformed creature, one that showed him turning into a doll, one that showed him peeling his face, etc.

He attempted to escape and he ran through the rooms in the attraction only to run into some of Eucalyptus’s mutants and a few Aykroyd characters. ‘What the hell, let me out of this nightmare.’ ‘Nightmare? I am afraid not, dear boy…this is very real. I know you probably think this is a rage-fic or whatever it is, but this is real and this is your lesson.’

Eucalyptus smirked…’Oh how I love someone who acts like they’re in the right but in actuality they’re wrong, you are just so wrong and you know it, you don’t understand weirdness, but I can help with that.’ ‘What do you mean by that?’ ‘Come now, don’t be shy.’

Thomas gulped as a pair of ghostly floating hands pulled him towards Eucalyptus, taking him into a laboratory, he attempted to break free but he was dragged over to a table where he was strapped in. That is when what appeared to be invisible needles were injected into his arm, as a result…his skin slowly began to mature as brownish hair slowly coated his arms which bulked up as his hands enlarged.

His fingernails lengthened a bit to resemble Dan’s as his chest and torso broadened, causing the buttons on his sporty button up shirt to pop off, the hairs from his arms covered his chest and his stomach making him look hairy but not overly hairy, he wasn’t on the same level as Alec Baldwin or Robin Williams.

He groaned as his stomach broadened and he bemoaned the loss of his athletic muscles, in addition to this his shoulders broadened and his rear plumped up and made him look like he had a thicc real end, and yeah I know this sounds erotic, but the fans told me as the narrator to describe it like this and well if Dan Aykroyd didn’t want to be viewed as simp-worthy maybe he shouldn’t have played such adorkable characters.

He looked at himself as his feet enlarged, two toes on both feet merging together to look like he had webbed feet. In addition to this his neckline altered while his back broadened and his height grow to around 6’1, his hair turned from dirty blondish to dark brown as his brow furrowed and his forehead enlarged, his eyebrows thickened and his eyes widened, one turning from brown to green and the other remained brown.

In addition to this his nose broadened with a cleft materializing in the middle of it as his lips plumped up to become kissable as he became more Aykroydian in appearance, becoming a perfect doppelganger of Dan as his voice contorted to sound exactly like him and his voice deepened and his mannerism altered to sound very much like him. ‘There we go, I fixed you. No more stupid crybaby antics from you.’

He realized he had been a bit of an idiot and he apologized to Dan and Eucalyptus before hugging them. ‘You are so right, I feel awful now, I didn’t mean to, it’s just I was told to judge Nathan based on what Stephanie said and I only do as she tells me because i’m afraid she’d kick my ass if I disobeyed her.’ ‘You don’t need to be afraid.’

“I don’t?”

“Of course not…you’re among friends here.”

Dan hugged his latest addition and admired him…’Another successful operation, another happy patient.’ ‘Indeed.’ ‘You are an excellent doctor, Dan.’ ‘Same goes to you, Eucalyptus.’ Eucalyptus giggled as the ghostly hands broke the new Were-Aykroyd free and allowed him to explore the lab.

‘You did such a great job.’ ‘Thanks, you too.’ And thus Eukie and Dan had a lovely time welcoming the new member of the group and as for Thomas, he had learned a vital lesson.

#dan aykroyd #transformation fic #monstermaster13

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axi35 · 3 years

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Wall Clock

https://www.redbubble.com/i/clock/Parrot-on-a-Branch-by-Axi35/71622431.1X49C?asc=u

#wall clocks #clock #wall clock #decorative #ornament #lifestyle #home & lifestyle #parrot #parrot on a branch #green parot #pets #home decor #interior decor ideas #decor ideas #home design #gifts #cute #funny

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sevrage · 2 years

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#sevrage #perruche #green parot #boulogne

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cosmostellar · 5 years

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wings pt 1

i started actively developing my bird story again and really felt like doing some visual development for it (its going to be a novel obvsly so its not really needed but its so fuuun) so i started with wings!! (the format is inspired by nebluus)

more to come but its 2 am here and im TIRED

(folded wings version)

#oc #ocs #wings #winged people #original character #original characters #artists on tumblr #my art #bird wip #Shaka #Abi #Isha #Mikaere #Amahle #+ one new yet-to-be-named character!!!#if anyones interested these wings are heavily inspired by #(left to right top to bottom)#secretary bird / white faced duck / indian roller / kea parot / green parakeet / variable sunbird #my ocs

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alessandromanfredini · 2 years

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@karlmommoo SS2022 #amazing #awesome #beautiful #bestoftheday #bleu #follow #follow4like #instacool #instadaily #beard #model #barbershop #cool #fashion #love #cute #outfitoftheday #red #beard #barber #influencer #model #dandy #modelover50 ##silverbeardedman #style #ss2022 #jungle #green #nature #parot https://www.instagram.com/p/CZwsRoEt00N/?utm_medium=tumblr

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ducktracy · 3 years

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184. the woods are full of cuckoos (1937)

release date: december 4th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (owlcott, walter finchell, milton squirrel, wendell howl, fox, raven mcquandry), tedd pierce (ben birdie, tizzie fish, andy bovine), sara berner (polly gillette, canary livingstone)

this cartoon gets the honorable award of possibly being the most dated warner bros. shorts in its vast repertoire of cartoons. not to worry! this will be a fun cartoon to unpack—i love delving into the shorts that involve extensive research. learning something new is something that‘s very rewarding to me, and i hope it is to you, too!

a giant ode to the short lived radio program community sing (lasting from 1936-1937), the short chronicles a woodland radio show hosted by a variety of caricatured animals putting on various acts.

iris in to the ringing of a bell. a pudgy, bespectacled owl rings it as he stands illuminated by the moonlight, preaching to all of the woodland critters, ready to start the show. he introduces himself as “owlcott”, a take on commentator alexander woollcott. he “blandly announces” (his words, not mine) the introduction of the master of ceremonies, ben birdie--a bird caricature of radio personality ben bernie, “the old maestro”.

birdie’s caricature is not new to audience’s eyes. the caricature, along with a handful of others, is reused from friz freleng’s the coocoo nut grove from 1936, a short that is very similar in vein to this one. tedd pierce provides birdie’s suave, velvety vocals as he introduces the program, only to be interrupted by the nasally cries of mel blanc. out pops walter finchell, a caricature of bernie’s faux-enemy walter winchell, both of whom carrying a notorious (and fake) feud in the radio-verse. it was common for winchell to interrupt the smooth-talking bernie, either throwing pranks or remarks his way, to which bernie dismissed every time. indeed, a signature tashlin upshot angle reveals finchell dropping an egg on top of birdie, who blocks it nonchalantly with a handy umbrella.

art loomer’s backgrounds for the cartoon are absolutely gorgeous. they’re vibrant in color, very lush and painterly, but remain playful and sophisticated at the same time. they certainly serve as a highlight to the short. and, as always, carl stalling’s scores are a blast to hear--his sardonic, wah-wah rendition of “cause my baby says it’s so” is a jolly juxtaposition to the prior score of “love is on the air tonight”, the latter being the song’s cartoon debut. it would be reused in cartoons such as the daffy doc, whereas “cause my baby says its so” was heard previously in rover’s rival.

birdie introduces a clever squirrel caricature of milton berle, whose routine gets interrupted by a little parrot named polly. polly is a take on eileen barton’s character, little jolly gillette, who was portrayed as the daughter of the show’s sponsor. polly and milton go through their act together, polly bluntly (yet innocently) announcing “my daddy says ya gotta let me sing ‘cause he’s a sponsor!” you can listen to real recordings of their banter here!

volney white’s animation of milton and polly is lively and jovial, constantly moving. milton energetically introduces us to our next star, pointing in the wrong direction and fixing it last second as he gestures towards a bird caricature of country singer wendell hall.

even if viewers don’t recognize the bird’s counterpart, they will most certainly recognize his voice--mel uses his foghorn leghorn voice for wendell “howl”. of course, foghorn wouldn’t debut for another 9 years, but that’s another story. the animation of the raucous bird is fun to watch as he extends his neck and wraps it around in coils around the microphone stand. random? yes, but fun nevertheless.

perhaps even more commendable is the staggering crowd shot that succeeds wendell’s scenes. the crowd is mirrored horizontally, but that doesn’t lessen the blow from how claustrophobic it is. wendell asks the audience to get out their songbooks and turn to page “22... no, page 44. uh, no, uh, page 28. uh, 42, uh, 36, uh, 45...”

wendell is transformed from an entertainer to an auctioneer, spitting out numbers at rapid pace as his crowd frantically tears through their songbooks. finally, he concedes. “oh, never mind. we won’t use the books.” off screen, the crowd roars in unison: “OH YES WE WILL!” with that, wendell is generously showered with a barrage of books, buried in the pile of rejected papers. the timing of the scene is comedically sharp and energetic, one of the more entertaining acts of the cartoon.

now, for the real song number, lead by goat and bear caricatures of billy jones and ernie hare (would a rabbit caricature be too on the nose?) respectively, animated by volney white. they march out onto the stage--er, tree trunk--and open the curtains to reveal a sing-along to the eponymous song. thus, the camera pans into the lyrics as everybody bursts into the all-too-earworm-causing song number.

as the crowd, ben birdie and walter finchell all lend their voices to the song, a fox caricature of fred allen sings “swanee river”, clashing with the unity of everybody else. in a nod to friz freleng’s toy town hall where the same routine was executed, a little bunny excitedly coos “ohhhh, mr. allen! you’re singing the wrong sooooong!” the fox bursts into everybody’s favorite Mel Blanc Yell as he repeats a frequent ‘30s catchphrase: “WHY DON’T SOMEBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS!?”

featured in the song is a seemingly interminable cast of celebrity caricatures, all introduced as the camera pans across the screen, each lending their voice to part of the song. some puns require more effort than others (dick powell as “dick fowl” rolls off the tongue better than al jolson as “al goatson”). caricatures include:

eddie cantor as eddie gander, sophie tucker as sophie turkey, w.c. fields as w.c. fieldmouse, dick powell as dick fowl, fats waller as fats swallow, deanna durbin as deanna terrapin, irvin s. cobb as irvin s. frog, fred macmurray as fred mcfurry, bing crosby as bing crowsby, al jolson as al goatson, ruby keeler as ruby squealer, lanny ross as lanny hoss, grace moore as grace moose, and finally lily pons as lily swans.

speaking of grace and lily, they’re both highlighted as they fight to out-perform each other, seeing who can sing the highest note. tashlin pulls of a rather intriguing camera move: as the pan settles on the two of them, the background changes. it’s a subtle maneuver, but smart thinking nonetheless--especially since the camera extends into a vertical pan. as both women fight to sing the highest note, their necks extend, both of them scaling high into the night sky, harmonizing on one final shrill note. they both crumple back into the stands, exhausted by their efforts. some fun exaggerated animation for sure--one wonders how much further this would have been pushed had this been tashlin’s second stint at WB rather than his first. his speed often rivaled, if not out-performed, tex avery’s.

birdie and finchell have a brief interstitial together before making way for a raven caricature of haven macquarrie (raven mcquandry). his sequence is almost jarringly short, but full of fun drawings and poses--the pose of him standing curtly with his arms crossed is awfully reminiscent of izzy ellis’ work under tashlin and later bob clampett in the mid ‘40s. mcquandry asks “do YOU wanna be an actor?”, parotting the name of his real life counterpart’s show so do you want to be an actor? the audience shouts “NO!” in unison, causing mcquandry to do a take and shrug dubiously. though the scene is only a few short seconds, the animation brings forth some much needed vitality.

next is a penguin caricature of joe penner, singing a hilariously out-of-tune rendition of “my green fedora”. the animation is reused from the cartoon of the same name (notice how he doesn’t have penguin feet!), which was also used in toy town hall. not a complaint, but more an observation--this is by far the most humorous performance of the song yet, sung by blanc rather than tommy bond.

another fun scene with some vivacious animation is a sequence featuring a mule caricature of martha raye (dubbed moutha bray), singing a cover of “how could you?”, which has been featured as an underscore in cartoons such as porky’s badtime story and its later remake, tick tock tuckered. raye’s large mouth served as prime material for caricatures, as we see here. the animation is snappy, fun, and vivid--she finishes her song by “swallowing” the camera, an old trick that beckons memories of the harman and ising cartoons of animation past.

an interesting trend in the ‘30s WB cartoons is the trend of playing with the iris, whether it was the closing iris out or an iris in between transitions. tex avery would consistently play with the final iris out on his cartoons, whereas directors such as friz freleng and bob clampett would use one as a transition between scenes. here, tashlin uses the “swallow the camera” technique as a segue for an iris in, tedd pierce’s falsetto squeaking “hello folksies!” as we’re introduced to a fish caricature of tizzie lish, a character played by bill comstock on al pearce and his gang.

though tizzie has long faded into obscurity (as has the entire community sing radio show), it’s still quite easy to appreciate pierce’s vocals and mannerisms as he portrays the character. it’s always a joy to hear him doing voices for cartoons--he’s never been my favorite writer on the crew, but he was an excellent talent as a voice actor. his squeaky deliveries, matter of fact deliveries “mix them up... are you mixing? my friends say i’m a good mixer. are you? or aren’t you?” as tizzie haphazardly dumps food items and their respective utensils into a bowl and prepares the meal are nothing short of hilarious. the timing is very well executed and can be appreciated regardless of background knowledge.

after humming a pitchy rendition of “the lady in red” while waiting for her concoction to bake in the waffle iron, tizzie removes the homemade waffle and discards it, instructing the audience “now take the ‘wiffle’ out and eat the iron. you must have iron in your system. or should you?” thus concludes tizzie’s act, certainly heightened in hilarity by pierce’s vocals and timing.

for the final act, ben birdie introduces a possum caricature of louella parsons, the host of the radio program hollywood hotel, which served as a way to advertise upcoming movies by featuring guest stars enacting some of the scenes. here, we have caricatures of jack benny (as jack bunny, the first of his many reoccurrences), mary livingstone (canary livingstone), and andy devine (andy bovine).

tedd pierce voices andy bovine, whose voice burlusqued not only in this cartoon, but to a greater extent in friz freleng’s my little buckeroo not even a year later. devine, a western star, was notorious for his scratchy, shrill voice which was rife for comedic opportunity. indeed, this scene here with pierce’s vocals is nothing short of hilarious:

the trio chronicle the prodigal’s return, in which bunny and canary coo over their baby son. out of the bassinet pops incongruously large bovine, who shrieks “HOWDY MAAAA! HI PAAAA!”, the sheer volume of his voice enough to blow both of his parents away and out of the scene. and, with that, the scene ends, red curtains colorized from porky’s romance marking the sequence’s end. short, sweet, to the point, and hilarious.

ending right where the cartoon began, the owl caricature of alexander woollcott bids us farewell, the iris closing in on the bell he rings as he exclaims that all is well.

like so many other cartoons i’ve reviewed, this is one that i slowly warmed up to upon rewatching it and typing out the review for myself. i didn’t entirely dislike the cartoon upon my first watch, but it’s undeniably dated and deserves its title as possibly the most dated cartoon. without further research, some of the jokes and caricatures (if not all of them) are difficult to appreciate. the animation has bursts of energy throughout the short, the highlights being the scenes featuring raven mcquarry and moutha bray, but otherwise remains relatively simple and conservative. tashlin does incorporate a few intriguing camera angles throughout the cartoon, but many other entries of his are far more cinematic.

however, despite all of that, this cartoon is not without its bonuses: art loomer’s backgrounds are stunningly gorgeous and rich, and as someone who loves the lush, painterly backgrounds of the 1930s, this is heaven to me. and, as i mentioned previously, tedd pierce’s scenes are great--the tizzie fish and andy bovine sequences are undeniable comedic highlights.

so, if you’re willing to dedicate time to put in the research for this cartoon, you’ll find it’s quite fascinating! i’m certain this was a much bigger gut-buster in 1937 than it is in 2020, but even then, this is a good cartoon for people such as myself who love to learn more information and seek out facts. as a result, i’d recommend it to people who fall into that category. if you’re just someone who wants a good laugh and a leisurely watch, there are more interesting cartoons that lie ahead. you won’t miss much by skipping it.

with that said, here’s the link!

#lt #the woods are full of cuckoos #looney tunes #tashlin #reviews #long post

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tanakavox · 4 years

Text

Jaune?! Jaune?! It's time to go to school!"

The blond begrudgingly opened his eyes to the sounds of hands hitting the door to his room.

"Mom, stop banging on my door! Jaune growled, rolling over to cover his eyes with his pillow. "I can't get any sleep with the noise!"

"No, Jaune. You haven't gone to school for nearly 2 months, and I'm putting my foot down! How do you expect to make new friends at school if you stay in your room all the time?!"

Jaune sat up in his bed and threw his pillow at the door. "I don't want to be friends with any idiots at school! HelI, don't NEED to go to school. I'm smarter than the teachers there too!"

June Arc sighed as she walked away from the door. She had tried to get Jaune to come out of his room for the past 3 weeks. When her son had come home from school near the beginning of the school year, saying he didn't want to go to school anymore, she didn't question it. She could see how sad and angry he was, and allowed him to stay home for a week. But then a week became two, then three, then a month. He almost never left his room, let alone socialize with kids his age.

If only her husband, Aruthur was here. He could at least talk to him, but he was busy with research in England.

But based off his last message to her, he was going to send something that would help their son. June didn't know what it was, she just hoped it got there soon.

Jaune groaned as he landed back in his bed. He didn't need to go back to school. He wasn't just bragging when he said he was smarter than the many of teachers. Jaune Arc had a genius-level intelligence, something he took pride in. Even more though, he knew how to use it. It was the reason he stopped going to school, the teachers and students hated how much smarter he was, and the bullying became too much to bear.

"She doesn't get it. Those moronic apes couldn't teach me a damn thing. Jaune said to himself with a scowl.

He jolted up when a muffled voice entered his room. "You know, you shouldn't talk to your mama like that!" A high pitched voice squeaked out. Jaune looked over his room in a panic, trying to find the source of the voice.

He looked out of his window and saw a small boy with freckles, looking to be no older than 7 or 8. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and was hanging on to the talons of a large hawk. To add on to it, the boy had a large yellowtail fish on his back, wiggling around trying to get free.. Jaune stare at this unusual sight for a few seconds for laughing and turning on his side.

"I guess that candy bar in my desk was bad!" He chuckled as he closed his eyes. "I'm seeing stuff now. Nothing a little nap can't cure"

"Hey, don't ignore me! The little boy cried out. He steer the hawk right though Jaune's window sending shards of glass everywhere. Jaune screamed as the glass hit him, causing small bits of pain dotting themselves across his skin.

"Not a dream! Definitely not a dream!"

The boy ignored the teens screams, walking up to him and handed him a letter with a silly grin on his face.

"I'm Oscar Pine! Your dad spent me from England to France! He told me to give this to you when I got here."

Jaune, intrigued by the mention of his father, ignored the light pain and snatched the letter out of the boy's hand and began to read the letter.

"Dear Jaune, It's been awhile hasn't it champ? I heard from your mom that you haven't been to school in a while. Now I understand that going there doesn't really challenge you so I understand if you don't want to go back. But, I figured you be bored at home doing nothing, so I spend you Oscar to look after. Well, him and his mysterious book. It has this weird language that I can't read, and Oscar can't remember anything at all. Family, where he came from nothing. I found him lying in the forest near death with that book. Since I can't really take care of Oscar or learn about the book with my current workload, I'm sending the little tyke and his book to you.

Love, Dad.

"Here!" Oscar squeaked, holding out a green book. He had covered himself up with a green cloak. "I'm going to go eat my fish!"

Jaune took the book from Oscar stared at the book for a few seconds. Oscar as Jaune stared at the book grabbed the still wiggling fish opened his mouth and began to scarf the fish down in no time flat.

"This is what Dad sent me? Some snot nosed brat?! Jaune began to shake in anger.

"So… Where do I sleep?" Oscar asked as he finished his fish.

"No where!" Jaune shout as he ran toward oscar. "You're gonna get lost! Oz… er… whatever your name is!"

At that moment, Oscar's eyes went white and the book began to glow. Oscar's mouth opened and a bolt of lighting came out and nearly hit Jaune. The teen eyes widen in horror and dived out of the way.

Jaune's voice became a whisper. "What the hell are you!"

Oscar's eyes returned to their normal green color, and he looked down at Jaune. "What are you doing on the floor silly?"

Jaune could only think of doing one thing in that moment. Calling for his mom. "MOOOOM!"

XoxoX

"You're just a cutie pie aren't you, Oscar!" June cooed. "Oh, I could just eat you up!"

"Mom, didn't you hear me?! He came in on a hawk! He shot lighting out of his mouth!" Jaune waved his hands frantically as he spoke.

June sighed as she turned to look tiredly at her son.

"Jaune, did you eat that candy bar in your desk? I told you wasn't any good."

"Just look at the glass from the window! And all the cuts on my… arms?" He tried to point at the cuts, but they seemed to have disappeared. "I…. I think I need more sleep."

"Yes dear, you clearly do. Kids can't shoot lighting out their mouths. Isn't that right, Oscar?" June's voice raised to a cutesy tone.

Oscar parotted June. "Yeah, kids can't shoot lighting!"

Jaune glared at the younger boy and began to walk back to his room.

"If your going back to bed take Oscar with you! Poor thing must be tired after such a long trip."

Jaune's blood ran cold at the suggestion.

"On second thought I'll just go to school!" He said as he rushed out the door. "I'll be taking the brat's book, bye!" He ran as fast as his legs could take him out of the door.

"Jaune! Don't take Oscar's book!" June shouted after her son, but by that point Jaune was already gone. June sighed and sat Oscar down in a chair as she starts to cook something up for the boy. "I'm sorry Oscar. Jaune wasn't like this a month ago."

"I know, Sir Arthur told me." Oscar replied, watching June start to cook. "That's why I'm here, to help Jaune become a better person!" June laughed a bit and patted Oscar on the head.

"Well, I'm happy to hear that Oscar. Thank you."

XoxoX

Jaune looked at his school with a huff. He had promised himself he would never come back to this place, but he was standing at the door of homeroom class.

"Well, Mr. Arc, I'm surprised to see you back here." A snobbish voice called out. Jaune turned to see his homeroom teacher, Peter Port. Jaune never liked Port, the old man spent more time babbling on then actually teaching. And from what Jaune could tell, the feeling was mutual.

"Well, I am. And I'm ready to start 'learning' again." Jaune said, forcing a smile on. Port stared at Jaune for a moment before walking back to the front of the classroom.

"Very well. , go take your seat and wait for class to begin." Jaune sigh and walked over to his old desk. It looked the same as it did last time he was here, if a little dustier. He took his seat and as more and more students came in he heard the whispers and the glares.

"Oh look who's back. Guess he thought he was finally deemed us worthy enough to grace us with his presence."

"Smarty pants Arc is back? Ugh, why couldn't that asshole stay home?"

Jaune grit his teeth and tuned them out, taking out the book he had taken from Oscar, deciding to read that over listening to Port's boring despite looking it over in every angle he could only read one line colored in.

"The first spell: Ozkeriu." Jaune muttered to himself. "What does that mean?

"Arc!" Port shouted. Since you seem to want nothing more than to daydream, let me take you back to reality. Answer the question on the board!"

Jaune lazily raised an eye to the board and answered. "A=14 B=2 C=10."

"Oh. That's right." Port turned back to the board and continued his lecture.

"Seriously old man? Gonna get on me for reading?" Jaune thought to himself leaning back in his chair. "Most teachers would beg their students to read." Jaune sighe and tried to go back to the book but heard the whispers again.

"Smart ass. Why bother coming if you're too smart to learn?

"What a prick, stop looking down at us and go home jackass."

"You make us all feel like idiots and then look down on us for it. Go home you dick!"

Jaune didn't say anything or look at them. He waited for the lunch bell to ring so he could go home.

XoxoX

Oscar looked up at Jaune from the bag he had disguised himself in when he followed him to school. He saw that most of the time that guy with the thing on his lips spoke, Jaune was busy reading the book he had taken from him instead.

"How is he supposed to learn anything if he doesn't pay attention?" Oscar thought while watching the older boy.

"Arc!" Oscar turned to see the teacher barking at Jaune to answer a question, which he did with ease. Oscar looked at Jaune with wonder in his eyes.

"Jaune's really smart!" Then Oscar heard the whispers from the other teens.

"Smart ass. Why bother coming if you're too smart to learn?

"What a prick, stop looking down at us and go home jackass."

"You make us all feel like idiots and then look down on us for it. Go home you dick!

Oscar was shocked to hear such things come from the other students. Why were they so mad that Jaune got the answer right? The boy turned to look at Jaune's unreadable face. When he saw Jaune get up, he stealthily followed after him. Seeing that Jaune was walking toward the gates to leave school, he started to call out to Jaune. However, someone beat him to the punch.

"You're leaving already Jaune?" Oscar looked up to see a pretty girl around Jaune's age. She had long brown hair, and she was looking at the blonde with a hint of disappointment and sadness. "It's only lunch, and you haven't come to school in so long. Please at least stay until the end of the day."

He didn't meet her gaze. "It's not a big deal Velvet. It's not like I can learn anything here." Jaune muttered. Oscar wonder why he didn't, they seemed to be friends… she wasn't getting angry at him, at least.

"Well… I wanna hang out again like we used to back when we were kids." Velvet's eyes lit up. "Maybe I can use the excuse of you tutoring me like we use-"

"Stop." Jaune's voice was quieter, but both of the people in the courtyard could still hear him. Velvet looked at Jaune in confusion.

"Stop what?" She asked.

"Stop acting like you care. I don't want, nor do I need, your pity."

Oscar chose that moment to jump out of his bag. "She's not pretending, you big dummy!" Oscar shouted. "She just wants to hang out with her friend again! What are you being such a jerk for?!"

Jaune's blood ran cold at the sight of Oscar. Once he got over the shock, his voice rose into an unholy screech "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Cross post from Fanfiction.net.

My first complete overhaul au I wrote. Gash bell/Zatch bell au.

Yes I know Jaune is kinda of a dick in this au. He was gonna get better.

#jaune arc #rwby #oscar pine #rwby oscar #oscar pines #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #mama arc #rwby au #rwby velvet

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ani-thurmon · 3 years

Text

About Ani

The Basics:

-Full Name: Anithaya Thurmon

-Age: 33

-Race: Human

-Sexuality: Bi-Sexual

-Relationship Status: Taken

-Facial Likeness: Willa Holland

Physical Appearance:

-Hair: Reddish-Brown, wavy and to her shoulders.

-Eyes: Green

-Height: 5'2

-Build: Fit/Lithe

-Distinguishing Marks: Freckles, Several hidden scars.

Personal:

-Profession: SI:7, Assassin, Uncrowned

-Hobbies: Reading, Spooking people, people watching.

-Residence: Stormwind

-Birthplace: Elwynn Forest

-Religion: None

-Fears: Undead, Not Being enough, being forgotten. Abandonment.

Relationships:

-Significant Other: Asriel Dusksong, Julieta Frey

-Children: None

-Parents: Deceased, can't remember them very well (so she says)

-Siblings: None

-Pets/Mounts: Toby (Parot), Theia (Gryphon) , Hazel (Horse)

Traits:

-Extroverted/ In Between / Introverted

-Disorganized / In between / Organized

-Closed Minded / In Between / Open Minded

-Calm / In Between / Anxious

-Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Additional Info:

-Smoking Habit: Never

-Drugs: Never

-Alcohol: Sometimes

RP Hooks:

-Often seen in Stormwind.

-Spent a lot of time in Boralus during the 4th War.

Contact Info: Can message me here or my ingame Anithaya

#about ani

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moltenhair · 4 years

Text

Season 3 Minus Gothel (2)

[Part 1]

This is the second part of what I managed to write. No Cass in this one since originally going to be a complete season rewrite. Which meant rewriting other parts... But then I realized I was just doing a novelization of the show for these parts and decided to scrap it 2.5 chapters in and only focus on the Cass parts.

Which I had all plotted out before life drained me of my ambition and energy.

without further ado.. Chapter 2 (The return to Corona re-written)

It was a long ride home.. But it wasn’t quiet. Rapunzel kept her energy high and a smile on her face. In the basket of their hot air balloon- brought surprisingly from Corona by Ulf- she pointed excitedly at every familiar sight. So many places they had scene on their journey. It was unbelievable to think about just how far they’d come since they embarked on this mission. The black rock trail had taken them beyond the bend of the earth and to lands they never could have imagined. But also some familiar lands that were known to a few of them. Like Vardaros. Rapunzel waved enthusiastically as she spotted Hook Hand and Hookfoot’s tour caravan in the canyons below. But they were too busy being lectured by Quaid and Vex for a parking violation to notice the balloon.

But soon, on that glowing horizon stood those familiar spires. Standing tall above the beautiful island kingdom- The Castle of Corona. Rapunzel never realized how much she could miss the sight of those towers. She couldn’t wait to be home with her mom and dad. She was going to give them the biggest hug the moment she saw them.

Still there was this feeling of… regret. She didn’t betray those feelings to her dear friends, but Rapunzel couldn’t help but feel guilty looking at those towers. In her own mind they had always stood as a symbol of strength. Peace. Unity. Love… Home. But the night before she had learned the truth of what some in her kingdom felt when they looked up at the castle. It made Rapunzel’s insides feel tight and squirmy. That feeling, even if it wasn’t her fault, was hard to shake. She couldn’t let anyone realize, though. Things were already so bad and they were returning to Corona without a friend.. She couldn’t make this about herself...

As the balloon touched down and bounced against the cobblestone streets of Corona, a giddiness filled everyone trapped in the tight confines of its basket. Eugene barely waited for it to be anchored before throwing open the woven door to step out. Rapunzel followed after and took a deep breath. Ahh, sweet personal space!

“Alright, it’s been great. But we have all been together way too long and I need a break from your faces.” Eugene teased before looking at Rapunzel with a playful smirk and a wink. “Except for you, Sunshine.”

The princess smiled, her heart warming. She knew he was trying to crack jokes to keep everyone’s mind off of what just happened. Eugene cared so much about keeping the people around him safe and happy. And thanks to his distraction, Rapunzel was able to enjoy looking out at her home town for the first time in more than a year.

“We’re home..” She sighed, looking out into the surprisingly empty streets. But that barely mattered as Rapunzel’s heart lit up with joy. “We’re home!”

The princess took off down the streets, taking in the buildings as she passed them. Each so familiar and just as she left them. Maybe with a little extra garbage laying in the roads, but maybe it was a bank holiday or something and the trash people had the day off. Each shop window brought back a beautiful memory. The dress shop! The women who worked there designed her coronation gown! The bakery! Feldspar’s shoes! Rapunzel had never worn them but Feldspar was an artist with boot leather.

Even Monty’s Sweet Shoppe brought a smile to her face. In fact, she’s really been craving some of Attilla’s cupcakes since she’d left. No one could make a cupcake quite like that lovable ruffian. Rapunzel marched up to the shop door and grabbed the handle, ready to swing it open and announce her return with an order of a dozen raspberry cupcakes… But when she pulled on the door it didn’t budge. She shook the handle, a frown marring her face, but it still didn’t open. She tried pushing instead… Still nothing. Her green eyes looked skyward and found the sun still hanging high up there. Monty was usually open this time of day. Did he change his schedule?

Rapunzel cupped her hands against the glass and peered through them into the shop interior. It was unusually dark inside. The shelves were fully stocked but it didn’t seem like there was anyone inside. It didn’t seem like it had been open for several days.

“Ohh.. I see.” Rapunzel laughed, stepping back from the door. She could see what was happening here. Her head turned and she looked at the chameleon perched on her shoulder. Pascal looked concerned more than amused. “I know what’s going on! Monty saw us coming and locked up the shop to keep me from buying anything!” She raised her voice so that the old man could hear her if he was inside hiding behind the front counter. “Very funny, Monty!”

“I dunno, Princess…” Lance approached from behind, his gaze flicking from one dark window to the next. “It doesn’t seem like anyone is home.”

Rapunzel’s smile fell. He was right. Not even her yelling had attracted a civilian. Nor had their balloon landing in the square attracted a guard. It was like no one was in the town at all.. What happened to everyone?

“Maybe there’s another festival or something.” Eugene suggested, sensing the rising tension. He took point, leading Rapunzel and their friends down a street. Walking backwards so he could continue to sooth them with that winning smile of his. “Come on. I’m sure they’re all around here some-WHA-”

He fell backwards suddenly, tripping over something none of them expected to see coming around the corner. When Eugene moved, Feldspar was lying on the ground, clutching a basket full of minerals that had spilled out onto the street. He groaned and sat up, looking startled and afraid.

“Feldspar! It’s you!” Rapunzel exhaled, feeling sweet relief at finally seeing one of her kingdom’s people. “Where is everyone? We-”

“No, no! No time!” The shoemaker scrambled to his feet, shoveling his curious haul back into his basket. The look in his eyes was nothing but panic. “I have a quota to make! I can’t be late again!”

Now THIS was strange. Usually nothing shook Feldspar this bad. Well.. Nothing other than someone wearing suede shoes in the rain.

“Quota? What is going on?” Rapunzel asked, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him from running off. “What’s all this for? Where are all the people?”

The man huffed, his ginger brows furrowing, “In the mines!” He scoffed, pointing back the way he’d come. “Everyone in the kingdom has been ordered to dig up as much of this weird mineral as possible for Varian’s… whatever it is he does with it! Everyone’s down there. It’s awful!”

Varian? He’s got the whole town trapped in a mine?

Rapunzel glanced sideways at Pascal and Eugene. The dread was shared between the three of them.

“Don’t worry, Feldspar.” The princess spoke again, “I’m going to talk to my father and get to the bottom of this.”

“Good luck.” the shoemaker shrugged her hand off of his shoulder to continue to walk away to wherever he was supposed to check in. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eugene asked, folding his arms across his chest with an arched brow. The people of Corona not having faith in their king? That was unusual.

“I mean I don’t think the king will do anything. He was the one who gave the order.”

Rapunzel charged those castle doors without a moment of hesitation. There were no guards to slow her down, no Nigel to announce her. Her bare feet pounded down the castle halls and carried her through the throne room doors.. Where she found her parents sitting on the thrones. Seeing them for the first time in a year almost made Rapunzel forget what she’d come to confront them about. There they were! And this time they were REAL!

“Mom! Dad!” Rapunzel ran up to them, throwing an arm around each of them to pull them into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you guys so much!”

“Young lady!” The king balked, stiffening in her hold. “What is going on?”

“Frederic… Who is this?” The queen asked quietly, confusion clear in her voice.

Rapunzel released them, her eyes blinking in confusion as she looked between her mother and father. Why were they looking at her like they had no idea who she was? Why didn’t they recognize their own daughter?

“Mom, dad, it’s me.” She took a step back, gesturing to herself with a tense smile, “Your daughter?”

“Daughter?” Frederic and Arianna parotted in unison, looking at each other like they had just received alarming news. Like they had no idea they had a child at all. What was going on in Corona. First the citizens and now this?

“Dad! It’s me! What’s gotten into you?” The princess gripped her by the shoulders, “What is....that?” Her eyes fell to the medallion hanging around her father’s neck. Where there was a Corona sun there was now an ominous symbol of… A three eyed crow? Maybe? It was definitely familiar even if she couldn’t determine what it was.

“Like it? It’s Saporian.”

As Rapunzel turned she was greeted with the sight of her friends being roughly shoved further into the throne room by a large brute she didn’t recognize. Followed by a small, slightly deranged looking woman and a face too familiar for comfort… Andrew. Smirking smugly with his hands upon his hips. Soaking in his decisive victory. At least what he seemed to think this was.

“Ah, right. Less-attractive-topknot-guy. I slightly remember you.” Eugene quipped as he straightened his jacket.

“Andrew? You’re behind this?” Rapunzel grit her teeth and stepped down from the thrones where her parents still sat. They seemed undisturbed by the sudden appearance of a man who was sent as a spy to topple their kingdom. “What did you do to my parents?!”

“And what did you do to the Sweet Shoppe?!” Lance interjected, sounding the most offended out of anyone.

Andrew glanced at Lance only a moment before moving on as if he hadn’t heard it. “Corona is under new management, Princess. Thanks to a little help from my former cellmate…”

Cellmate? Rapunzel straightened, preparing for any manner of ruthless criminal to appear. The Stabbingtons? Had Lady Caine beaten them back to Corona? As a shadow appeared in the archway leading out of the throne room, her fingers curled into tight fists, ready to fight… But then, wearing a bandanna over his face and a heavy black jacket (that was too big for him)… emerged… VARIAN?

As he stepped into the light, dressed in dark clothes and heavy boots to match these usurpers, he pulled the bandana away from his face to reveal a cruel grin... And a crudely drawn on goatee. Which was, apparently, meant to look convincing. Rapunzel didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t. Even if he had kidnapped her mom once.

“Welcome home, Rapunzel.” he taunted.

“Varian… You’re working with Andrew? You erased my parents’ memories?!”

“Who, me? Oohoho-” He laughed haughtily, as if this were all just some joke. “No, actually. As you know, I’m all about the science.. I helped with the breakout and the takeover but my friend Clementine here-” He gestured to the petite woman at his side, “Added some… er.. Texture.”

Rapunzel looked at this ‘Clementine’ and saw a very familiar item in her hand. A Wand of Oblivium. Rapunzel knew it well. She also knew that the effects were irreversable without the antidote.

“Give my parents back their memories. NOW.” She barked.

“Sorry, no can do, Princess.” Andrew stepped in, “We’ve got plans for them.. But don’t worry. Thanks to my new pal here, you’ll barely notice anything changed.”

Rapunzel and her friends shared a look, all equally worried about what that meant.

Andrew nudged Varian forward, smirking, “Tell ‘em.”

Varian marched forward, head held high. That look in his eye from the night Rapunzel almost died trying to free his father. But something was different. “You see, Princess, I’ve studied the magic in Clementine’s wand and devised a formula that, once finished, will create a gas with the power to erase every memory in Corona.”

Rapunzel felt a chill strike her to her bones. “What?”

“I call it ‘Quirinium’.. In honor of my father.” Varian’s grin turned sour. Into a bitter scowl. “So no one will ever be able forget who they abandoned.”

A murmur from the back of the room. Lance’s voice cutting through the tension, “Aren’t they going to have a hard time remembering after you erase their memories?”

Varian seemed caught off guard. As if he hadn’t realized that himself or it hadn’t mattered. Rapunzel had a feeling that the alchemist hadn’t gotten much of a chance to think this plan through. Maybe there was hope to talk him out of it.

“I- It.. It doesn't matter!” Varian dismissed Lance’s words with a harsh shake of his head. “This is the only way-”

“I think that’s enough talk.” Andrew interjected, placing himself back at the front of his group. He drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at the princess. “I think it’s time to say goodbye to our uninvited guests.”

(end)

#rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #Season 3 minus gothel #my art #fic #long post

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sparklybinder · 4 years

Text

So my teacher challenged us We had to re-create a painting with what we have at home

My mom said I can’t go out anymore

-“Elegant lady wearing pink dress in the garden with a parot” Edward Charles

What I used :

-White t-shirt

-That one dress that is more a costume than anything else

-A pink towel

-Pink paper towel

-My mum’s VALENTINO WHITE BAG--

-Makeup

-My house and green children

#stay at home #stayathome #stayhome #quarantine #history #painting #paint #photo #my photos #plants #tw bright colors #bright colors #pink #pink aesthetic #victorian

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komahinasecretexchange · 5 years

Text

Title: Under Moon and Starlight

Author: @aisukofi

For: @sonneka

Ratings/Warnings: T, references to komaeda’s backstory and his general self-depricating tendencies

Prompt: “Island Mode, KomaHina in a romantic (or pretty close to romantic) way”

Author’s Notes: this turned out a lot more dialogue heavy than expected, but i still hope you can enjoy it!

His world, he supposes, has always been small. But at the same time, it’s always been too big. Too many things he could do at the drop of a hat, too many things he had complete control over. And yet, at the same time, he couldn’t do anything, his life itself completely in the hands of someone, something he’d never know.

This contradictory world of his was one he traversed alone. The world swallowed up and shredded everything around him. The second something got close it was swept away, the moment someone made contact they were torn apart, limb from limb. The solution was to simply live without any relationships of any sort and without any possessions, but doesn’t that go against human desire? Was it not human nature to seek out others, to gather objects in order to make oneself comfortable? If he rejects human desire, human nature, can he truly consider himself human? If not, then what was he?

It strikes him inexplicably that his world doesn’t matter here. Perhaps it never mattered in the first place. Perhaps nothing ever mattered, and human nature made him believe things did. Wasn’t it natural to hold some things dear to you, to hold them close to his heart and make them matter? If that was the case, then he supposes he truly is human.

The pale moon - a constant, unwavering thing, near haunting in it’s unyielding presence in every hour - blinks at him from deep blue sky. Stars, too, twinkle and shimmer from the same abyss, bright and blinding unlike the ones he’d see in Tokyo. The closest he’d seen to these were in Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, where the lights and the sounds and the very ground he stood on were different yet the sky was the same, simply less clouded by the glare of modern technology. Here, on Jabberwock Island, it was the same. No light pollution or smog obscured the sky, the only thing coming close being a stray puff of white cloud every now and then.

The wind whispers harsh nothings as it brushes his skin and send shivers down his body. Distantly he hears as the waves of the beach pick up in time, begin crashing down upon the white sand in quicker succession and with more force. The filtered pool water lapping at his ankles makes him ever colder, surface near mirroresque and clear turquoise that looks silver in the moonlight. He can feel the way the skin on his feet has wrinkled up, old and unneeded evolutionary traits kicking into high gear as he submerges his feet for what feels like a long time. It dawns on him that time, too, doesn’t really matter.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out here. He remembers, vaguely, hearing Usami’s nighttime announcement - ten o’clock exact, never a single second early or late - and preparing himself for the night, wishing each of his fellow students a “Goodnight” and “Have sweet dreams.” He remembers laying in his blush queen sized bed, staring at the wall in abstract boredom for hours as sleep refused to take him (as it often did, ever since he was a child). Remembers getting himself out of the blankets and dressing and leaving his cottage hotel room before finding himself by the pool. It’s there he lays, sprawled out on hard wood and concrete, legs dipped up to the ankle into the chlorine cleaned water. He thinks he’s been here for a while, laying unmoving and thinking about everything and nothing at once.

Wind dies down. Ocean waves calm and go back to gentle rocking, lapping against the beach in gentle beats that match the tempo of his own heart: ba-dum, ba-dum, thump, thump.The sound fills and drowns his ears - or maybe it’s the sound of his own blood bumping? He doesn’t know, nor does he explicitly care in that moment. The stars twinkle. The moon stares. He tries counting the stars for a fleeting moment before giving up after counting two hundred thirty-seven.

The constant anxiety he feels is nonexistent here. The constant desire to be prepared for anything and everything, the desire to be everywhere and nowhere at once has evaporated into the very air. It feels just a bit unnerving to be relaxed after it all, but his limbs are too heavy and his body is too comfortable for him to care or do anything about it.

The wind picks up again, bringing with it the scent of tropical flowers and fruits none of which he can name. It tousles and stirs up his hair, pale white strands tickling the skin of his face and neck. The waves rise once more, his heart keeping up with it’s rhythm: ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum, thump thump thump.

“What are you doing?”

The sounds cuts through the sound of the waves and steals the very breath from his lungs. Tan and hazel and brunette fill his vision, a pale olive green tie dangles limply above his nose. A face full of characteristic tired annoyance, with hints of fondness seeping into the corners of his mouth and in his eyes. Hinata leans over him, covering the moon and taking its place as the midnight sun, white button-up brighter than ever, the pin on the breast pocket glinting in the starlight. Nagito can’t help the small content smile that worms it’s way onto his face. He smiles up at Hinata, too breathless to even consider answering his question.

Hinata stares back, eyes flickering slightly as if searching for something he’ll never find. The two stare at each other for what’s undoubtedly decades before Hinata concedes and straightens up with the breath of a small sigh and the closing of his eyes. Nagito can feel his smile dropping slightly, expecting the other to leave him alone again. Nagito wouldn’t blame him for doing so, couldn’t blame him, as he’d do the same thing when faced with himself.

Hinata flops down beside him on the deck with a huff and takes Nagito by surprise.

He takes a moment to arrange himself. It’s somewhat endearing, Nagito thinks, how Hinata’s face twists with concentration as he leans himself to the side in order to fold his legs up under him until he’s cross-legged, how he wiggles in place in an effort to move his feet to a position where they won’t go numb. After he’s situated he rests an elbow on one of his thighs, propping up a hand and resting his head in it. Hinata stares at him once more, and Nagito finds himself feeling self-conscious. The smile on his face revives with more force regardless. Hinata quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Well? You gonna answer me or what?”

Nagito feels his smile falter once more, but if Hinata notices how often his expression has been shifting he doesn’t mention it. He decides to answer in the same way he always has when he’s asked an uncomfortable question, ever since the first time he was asked “What happened on your return flight from San Cristóbal?” He turns his head to it’s side, his mass of fluffy hair cushioning the weight, and spits the words as carelessly as he can.

“What are you doing?”

Hinata’s eye twitches slightly, his nose scrunches up for a fleeting moment, an emotion Nagito can’t name without thinking flicking across his face. As quick as it’s there its gone as Hinata schools his face back to his neutral, tired expression. “Making sure you’re not doing something weird.”

Nagito blinks - once, twice - before parotting, “‘Doing something weird?’”

Hinata nods. “Yeah, doing something weird. Y’know,” he makes a vague gesture with his free hand. Nagito just stares, because no, he doesn’t know. After a beat of silence that lasts two seconds too long to be anything but awkward, Hinata continues, “I thought you were gonna try to make something in that old kitchen again.”

“I don’t think I want to try cooking for a while,” Nagito says bitterly, face twisting up at the memory. Usami still refused to let him hold sharp objects, and Hanamura still watches him like a hawk whenever he gets near a stove.

Hinata laughs at his reaction, the sound sweet and airy as it reaches Nagito’s ears. Nagito feels himself smiling again. “But really,” Hinata starts, once the laughter in his throat grows quiet, “What are you doing out so late?” There’s concern edged into the brunette’s voice and it leaks likewise into his eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nagito answers honestly. There’s no point to lying about it. Not when Hinata could see through it anyway. Not when dark purple stains the pale skin underneath his eyes.

“There’s narcotics in the pharmacy,” Hinata points out, “Why not go and get something from there?” Nagito shrugs as his answer, a somewhat awkward motion when you’re laying with your arms spread wide.

“I’m sure they’d help more than just laying out here,” Hinata continues with a roll of his eyes. The other twists his face into a grimace.

“But they taste bad,” he says, drawing out the last word into a whine.

“Now you’re just being stubborn,” the brunette scolds as he reaches out to playfully slap at Nagito’s arm. “I’ll shove them down your throat.” Nagito can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him at Hinata’s threat. “I will! I swear,” Hinata defends, slapping at Nagito’s arm again.

“Of course you will, Hinata-kun,” the white haired boy quips, lasting giggles still left on his tongue. “I’m shaking in my boots due to fear of your might!”

“You’re not even wearing shoes!”

Nagito wiggles his toes beneath the pool’s surface. His feet may have gone numb due to the cold water, but in that moment he’s the warmest he’s been all night. “Actually, I am,” he says, pulling his face into a serious expression. “They’re just invisible, Tanaka-san put a curse on them.”

Hinata’s face blanks and he stares at the other as though he’s seriously considering the possibility. It twitches after a moment before turning exasperated. “Haha,” he laughs dryly. “So you’re a comedian now, huh?” Nagito sticks his tongue out at him playfully, earning him a true laugh from the brunette.

His own laugh rises and joins Hinata’s in a soft crescendo. The noise mixes together in the cool night air as a song that fills his heart and swallows him whole. The moon bathes them in blue-silver light, the stars shine spotlights down upon them, and Nagito wishes the night would never end.

Their song dies in time, but it isn’t until Hinata’s wiping tears out of his eyes that silence envelopes them. Nagito watches him from the corner of his eye. Watches as Hinata’s breath returns to him, as he stretches his arms out in front of him until his fingertips brush the surface of the pool’s water. He pulls them back after a moment, rests his elbows on his knees and lets his hands hang in the triangle formed by his crossed legs. Hinata gazes at the sky now, eyes flickering in every direction as he looks from one star to the next.

The only word Nagito can think of to describe the sight is “beautiful.”

Hinata is beautiful. The soft shape of his face, slightly sharp at the edges where lingering baby fat are just trimming off, is beautiful. His eyes, serene as they gaze above, hazel and positively glowing in the moonshine, is beautiful. His hair, short and soft and the shade of freshly made milk chocolate - it’s beautiful. Every inch of him is beautiful, Nagito thinks, from the tips of his toes to that onry piece of hair that refused to settle with the rest.

Oh, he must have been staring, because Hinata looks at him with that embarrassed look of his, a light blush rising and dusting his face. When Nagito flashes him a bright smile, the blush grows darker and he turns his eyes away awkwardly, pulling on his shirt collar like he’s burning up. How cute. It takes a moment for Nagito to realize that Hinata’s speaking.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” he mumbles, looking everywhere except at the white haired boy.

“You’re beautiful,” Nagito answers without thinking. Isn’t it important to let people know what you think of them?

Hinata’s reaction seems to say otherwise. He freezes, his entire body tensing and going rigid, his face flushing. He looks mortified, as if Nagito had just told that bombs all over the island were going to explode by sunrise.

Of course he said something he shouldn’t have. Of course he fucked up again. Because that’s all he does and that’s all he’ll ever do.

Nagito pushes himself up on his elbows, apologies already on the tip of his tongue, because he needs to rectify the situation, needs everything to be alright. “I apologize if I made you uncomfort-“

“You can’t just say something like that so suddenly,” Hinata cuts him off with a yell, far too loud for the situation, embarrassment sitting high on his cheeks. Was the flush from before not from fear then? “Besides,” he continues, voice dropping into a low mumble that Nagito would surely have missed if he wasn’t paying such close attention, his eyes scrunching closed like he can’t stand to look Nagito in the eyes, “You’re the beautiful one here.”

Nagito can feel the heat rising to his face, can feel the way his pale skin grows pink at the sudden compliment. When was the last time someone said such a thing to him? Had anyone ever? Hinata probably doesn’t mean it anyway. He’s just saying it to deflect the attention off of him. Surely. “Ah…” he trails off, let’s his nervous laughter enter the air, “Hinata-kun is really too kind.”

“Please don’t start with that shit,” Hinata groans with frustration evident in his voice, the embarrassment that was just there slowly leaving him, “I’m not saying it to just be nice. I really… think that.” He rushes his sentence at the end, still avoiding Nagito’s eyes. Which is a good thing, Nagito thinks, because he can’t see the tears forming in his own eyes this way.

It’s overwhelming, really. It’s truly overwhelming to be on this side of a compliment. To be complimented by Hinata Hajime- it’s almost too much. He’s undeserving of it, unworthy to even be in his presence.

“Okay,” Hinata says, awkwardness and nerves apparent in his voice as he draws out the word, “You’re crying now, what did I do?” Nagito’s quick to swipe at his eyes with his jacket sleeves, because Hinata really shouldn’t have to deal with his own inability to take simple praise.

“Ahah… It’s just-” Nagito tries to give him a reassuring smile as he wipes once more at his cheek- “no one has ever complimented me before. It really took me off guard!” He raises the tone of his voice to one that’s lighter, tacks a bout of breathy laughter at the end. It’s a joke, really, everything to do with him is a joke.

Instead of putting Hinata’s concerns to rest, his words seem to only elevate them as a pitying look fills his eyes. “No one? Ever?” When Nagito nods, albeit a bit confusedly, Hinata’s face twists into a deep frown. He’s getting upset? At what? It’s only natural that someone like himself wouldn’t get praise of any kind. So why is Hinata upset?

“I’ll uh. I’ll say it whenever you want then,” he offers, obviously still too awkward to say the words with confidence.

“Say what?”

“I’ll- I’ll call you pretty. Or beautiful. Or whatever. Whenever you want.” He’s blushing again, and pulling at his shirt collar, eyes darting every direction except towards Nagito. Nagito can feel the blush on his face again, self-doubt invading his mind. Could he really accept such an offer? Could he really allow himself to be so selfish?

“You know what? I’m going to do it anyway,” Hinata’s voice interrupts his thoughts, stern and forcibly confident. “Because I know you’re just going to tell me no.”

“Hinata-kun doesn’t have to do anything that he doesn’t want to do,” Nagito says instead of a full-out protest, because a traitorous part of him yearns to hear the words leave the brunette’s mouth again.

“Yeah? Well, I’m going to do it. Because I want to,” Hinata objects, still refusing to look at the other - Nagito really wishes he would, he wants those eyes on him. “And I don’t care what you say,” he tacks onto the end like it somehow makes it look like he doesn’t care. He fails miserably.

“Hm…” Nagito hums, already able to feel the teasing words rising in his throat, “Mioda-chan was right. Hinata-kun really is a tsundere.”

“What!?” comes the brunette’s yell, his hand slapping against the pool deck. “I am not! You’re just-” he’s sputtering now, how cute - “just an asshole!” After a beat of silence, “A pretty asshole!”

The compliment makes him flush, though he laughs at the other’s words regardless. Hinata was fun to tease. Easy to tease, too, his reactions always over the top after he realizes what’s happening. It’s adorable, really.

Hinata pushes himself up from where he was sitting with a huff. “Whatever! I’m going back to bed!” he announces loudly as he turns back towards the rows of cottages nearby.

“‘Back to bed’? You were sleeping in your clothes?” Nagito hadn’t given it much thought earlier, but considering it was the middle of the night, it is odd for Hinata to be dressed in his regular outfit of button-up and tie and jeans.

“Maybe I like wearing this to bed!” the brunette counters before shoving an accusing finger in Nagito’s direction. “You’re also wearing your normal clothes, so you can’t say anything!”

“But I didn’t wear them to bed,” Nagito’s points out with a small tilt of his head. Are they arguing about this now? Was this something worth arguing over?

Hinata makes a small noise of frustration, his face still a bright crimson. “Still!” He turns again and this time actually starts stomping away. “You go to bed too! It’s too late at night for you to be awake and doing something crazy!” He calls from over his shoulder as he turns the corner towards his cottage. Nagito hums, neither a promise to do so nor a refusal, and pulls his feet from the water and places them on the pool’s edge. They’re cold, the air making them even more so, and he can barely feel them enough to be able to feel their movements when he wiggles his toes. He’ll probably have to wait a bit before he can walk.

Accepting that fact with an subconscious nod, Nagito turns his head up to the stars again. Without Hinata’s presence, they seem somewhat duller than before, as if the very idea of Hinata Hajime makes the world shine. The moon, too, seems distant and forlorn - a haunting figure watching from out of reach. Everything feels calm, quiet, a perfect image of serenity.

A perfect island vacation with the one you love.

“Oi!”

Nagito feels his neck pop as he snaps to attention. His eyes flick over to the back deck of Hinata’s cottage, where the brunette himself is leaning against the railings. The pink slip of paper in his hand flaps around as he waves it in the air.

“Hang out with me tomorrow!”

Nagito lets himself blink blankly before allowing his head to tilt to the side. “You want to hang out?” With someone like him? The hand holding the pink ticket falters at his words.

“Um, yeah,” Hinata says, his words unsure and hesitant, “I’d like to. If you want to.” He’s looking away again, like he’s embarrassed. A soft smile fills Nagito’s face at the sight.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Hinata-kun.”

Hinata’s face erupts into a furious blush as his body tenses up. The ticket crinkles as his grip tightens against the smooth paper. “Don’t call it that!” he protests, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

“Huh? Is it not a date?” Nagito questions, wiggling his toes and growing satisfied as the feeling is returning to them. He takes a moment to look for his shoes before shoving his bare feet inside.

“You don’t have to call it that! We’re just hanging out!” He’s right, technically, but Nagito can’t figure out why it’s such a big deal. Isn’t it easier to just call it a date?

“So it is a date.” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out more like a simple statement of fact.

Hinata seems to go through a lapse of internal conflict, emotions appearing and disappearing only to appear again and flicking across his face in rapid succession. After a moment of lapsing silence, he faces settled on a look of exasperation. “Fine. It’s a date. In the broadest definition of the word.”

A simple hum of response leaves Nagito’s lips as he makes his way past Hinata’s patio. Throwing up a hand in a half-wave and flashing a small smile, he calls out “I can’t wait for our date, Hinata-kun.” And just like that, he leaves and disappears into his own cottage.

He thinks, if his luck allows it, he’d enjoy letting Hinata into his world. In the end, only time will tell.

Perhaps, after all of this, Nagito will sleep well tonight.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction

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