#my present for him this year is lightyears better than the last two

[atopfourthwall]

Watching thru Star Trek Voyager for the first time. Do you like this series if so, favorite episode?

Posting my full thoughts below a read more because spoilers. But it's a mixed bag at best, favorite episode the two-parter Scorpion.

It's biggest issue is that it refuses to abide by its central concept: a Starfleet vessel lost 70,000 lightyears from home with few resources and in a place the Federation have never been to, made up of a mixed crew of both Starfleet and the Maquis - a rogue terrorist organization set on freedom from Cardassian oppression due to shitty treaties the Federation made in the name of peace.

Voyager goes for seven years and you would think with a premise like this, the ship should be a WRECK by the time it gets home - barely held together with duct tape, flickering lights and debris in spots because there just isn't time or necessity to deal with minor stuff like that when there are bigger concerns to deal with. You'd think the crew has gotten more lax, dirtier or with more rolled up sleeves and casualwear as the situation has made them less of a formal structure like a regular Starfleet vessel and more like a found family, maybe with a ton of alien crewmembers from the Delta Quadrant who have decided to join Voyager along the way because they (and the Federation by proxy) have offered something that wasn't present in their corner of the galaxy, something better and they want to join the mission back home. You'd think the ship itself would have changed in appearance as they've had to patch it with technology and because they don't have regular drydocks to replace lost/damaged systems and bulkheads. Sure, Star Trek has replicator technology, but I can't imagine Voyager has MASSIVE replication technology capable of creating HUGE swaths of the hull. At the very least, you'd think you'd see cracks in the hull hastily sealed up - maybe a kind of Kintsugi thing where the cracks are a different color because of special alien material used to keep it strong. You'd think those Maquis crewmembers, despite being former Starfleet, wouldn't be wearing Starfleet uniforms because why would they? They're here because they're stuck and what's Starfleet going to do if they haven't shined their boots? Throw them all in the brig for however long it takes to get home? More interpersonal conflicts between crewmen as they have to find a way to live together, have different approaches to solving problems, maybe deal with the crippling loneliness and despair that comes with thinking you may never make it home (either because of the dangers of space travel or just because it'll be 70 years on our current technology to get there).

But no. Nothing like that ever happens in Voyager.

Because it followed the pattern that had made Star Trek TNG so successful (despite it having a premise that DEMANDS more serialization), every episode the reset button is pressed. The ship is restored to normal, character development is rare or confined to a single episode. The few attempts at serialization are just… badly written (or just met with a shrug), which probably explains why they mostly dropped it in later seasons. You'd be forgiven for watching the first episode and then the last while thinking "Wow, not much changed except for Janeway's hairstyle."

Oh, but there WAS change… just not very much. A new cast member to replace one leaving… and a character brought on to be the breakout character - one of the few times we brought on new crew from this part of the galaxy - was shuffled away the episode beforehand because inexplicably some of his people were farther out than they ever should have been and he decided to stay with them because he met them for a few days. A romance between cast members that… was okay, but not great. Another romance introduced at the last second because they needed one of their characters to actually DO something because they had spent 7 years inventing boring hobbies and interests for him separate from his identity as fake-90s-Native American-whose-entire-culture-was-thought-up-by-a-fraud-who-tricked-Hollywood-into-thinking-he-knew-what-he-was-talking-about.

A lot of plots could have happened on any other Trek show. A lot of plots dealt with "Hey, maybe we'll get home THIS time!" and they of course would not. They invented a whole new way of propulsion that allowed you to be in every spot in the universe at once (and easily reversed the negative side effects by the end of the episode)… aaand then just pretended it never happened. The recurring villain enemies ranged from godawful to okay, but not fully realized.

Behind the scenes it was often full of office politics before actual quality. Whenever an episode needed some padding? Add technobabble. Have an ambitious idea for an episode? Nope, we're not interested in anything challenging. Do anything that might make the characters look bad or have more shades to them? Noooope. There were plans and ideas, things thrown out like, for instance, a year-long storyline where the ship would get as battered as I suggested… and it was shot down, turned into a two-parter with the reset button pushed hard at the end of it.

There's plenty to like about Voyager. Some really do love the characters and I like a lot of them, too. And there are plenty of episodes that I recommend and really enjoy and rewatch… but it's mostly wasted potential. It's telling that Ron Moore, who joined Voyager's writing staff after Deep Space 9 ended because he wanted to keep doing Star Trek, left after only 3 episodes… and went on to make the Battlestar Galactica remake, which for all its flaws did the Voyager concept considerably better and with all of those ideas I mentioned up top concerning the crew, the damage to the ship, the shades of grey, the hopelesness at times but still hope, etc.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Christmas.”

 wrote this based on a request for fluff, so I have delivered the fluff. There is a certain group of you who will probably be a little bit made at me when you finish :)

But here is the token Christmas episode, and I hope you all like it 

“Alright, try it now.”

“But Commander, I'll have to pull power from the reactor core.”

“I said do it airmen, did it sound like a question?”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden eruption of lights exploded about the mess hall, and down the hallways of the ship, thousands of tiny twinkling lights. Krill, having been walking to speak with the Commander paused at the entrance to the room and spun around in wonder. Lines upon lines of lights had appeared out of nowhere to be projected around the walls of the room and down the hallways of the ship. They weren’t  bright or anything, instead an almost delicate yellow in color gently twinkling like the light of distant stars.

“Get those overhead lights off,”

With a loud thud, the lights switched off, casting the room into the warm ambient glow of those thousand twinkling lights. He spun in a circle staring up at the ceiling, shocked to find a mosaic of falling snowflakes, which faded and vanished before hitting the floor,

“Give me more fall-off on that snow airman. Tomorrow better be magical or someone is getting their ass fired.”

He turned his head again eyes widening in geater wonder as they fell on the center of the room. The flickering, projected hologram of a massive tree. It was one of those furry looking earth plants that could reach higher than thirty feet tall, though this one only nearly brushed the ceiling. It stood in the middle of the room decorated by hundreds more twinkling lights, yards of red ribbon and shiny glass balls. Atop the tree, there was projected the human caricature of a star glittering with firelight.

Tongues of phantom fire licked against the far wall, under a mantle of stone and brick.

Krill turned in another wide circle as the strange lights flickered around him, reminding him strangely of the space walk he had gone on with the commander so long ago, stepping out into the darkness surrounded by stars, alone in the vastness of space, but where that had been cold and distant, this was a close warmness that filled him up from the inside and made him feel oddly warm.

Soft footsteps behind him and then a  pause.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What is it?’

“Realistically, more than four thousand years of pagan-christian and corporate tradition.” Krill looked up to find the array of glittering lights reflected against the human’s bright green iris. His voice grew soft, though it stayed warm, “More romanticized…. This is…. Home. This is childhood and imagination, and family wrapped in a box and tied with a bow. This is being warm when its cold and loved when you’re alone. This is comfort on the edges of space when earth is a trillion lightyears away and you may never go back.”

“Feeling a bit poetic today I see?’

The Commander shrugged, “Maybe a little…. Kind of homesick too.” he sighed, “This is the first year I won’t be celebrating Christmas with my family.” 

“Christmas?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure what it meant to other people, but when I was a kid, it was mostly just a day to celebrate our family…. Mom loves Christmas, she goes all out every year, even when things were tight…. She always managed to make things special. One year dad snuck out in the middle of the night and left reindeer tracks in the snow to convince us they had been there.”

“Er, Reindeer?”

“Ah, never mind. I’ll tell you about it later. Important thing is getting everything ready for tonight. If you want to see the real magic.”

Krill stared at the commander as he walked away not entirely sure what the hell that was supposed to mean. He was trailed by a rather grumpy looking Glados. In the past few months the adaptid had grown to the size of a medium sized dog, and the Commander was, more and more, forcing her to walk on her own, Which she didn’t much like.

Krill glanced around at the lights one last time before returning down the hall and towards the medical bay. All across the ship crew members were busy putting up decorations, stringing strange fluffy streamers over the exposed piping. 

One crew-member, in a red and a green hat with a bell on top was hanging strange plants from the tops of doorways. He looked on in confusion before stepping into the medical bay greeted by Dr. Katie, who was wearing a red and white dress with a matching hat and striped leggings. She looked like a peppermint stick...

“Good evening krlll, are you ready for christmas?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Other than it's some sort of human holiday.”

“Yeah, it’s the one day of year where people get together and give each other gifts and stuff. To some people it means different things, simply a family day or to celebrate religious figures. Just sort of depends. Some people don’t celebrate it at all, but the Commander seems pretty big on christmas, so why not.”

“Why are you dressed up like that?”

She winked at him, “Because I’m an elf silly.”

“You know this is almost the first time in half a year in which I have no understood a single word coming out of your mouth. She simply winked and continued on her way whistling happily.” 

Of course the night came, and out of Character Dr. katie curled up on one of the hospital beds and fell asleep leaving Krill alone in the half darkness. He spent the rest of his time on the internet looking up information on the so-called holiday. What he found was a tangled mess of pagan-cristian-and corporate traditions just like the Commander had suggested. A lot to do with saints and demons and more information than he was willing to read all the way through at this moment. He wasn’t a xeno historian after all.

The night wore on, and he sensed a strange stillness in the air around him caused by the ambient light leaking in from the hallway, warm and fiery.

It was close to two in the morning when a knock came on the door to the medical bay. Dr. Katie stirred and sat up adjusting her dress as she ran over motioning Krill after her. Curiously he followed after her, stepping into the hall to find….. More than a strange sight. There was Conn, draped all over in glittering tinsel to add to his flowing ribbons. A couple other humans were dressed in the strange red and green costumes with pointy hats and bells on their shoes. Waffles, the dog, was sitting just before the door wearing a fake pair of antlers, her tongue lolling happily from one side of her mouth. Sitting with her were the three adaptids in similar states of dress glados looking cowed but a little more than miffed to be there. Both of them were covered in bells as well, and all of that strangeness arrayed around the weirdest thing of all,  a very large fat man in a blindingly red suit, and big white beard.

He moved forward ad Dr. Katie hopped over to join the strange party grinning and giggling as she patted waffle’s head. The dog licked her hand, “You make such adorable reindeer.” She reached down to pat Glados next, and the adaptid sulked, but didn’t try to bite her as she might have done with someone else.

“HO HO HO, Merry Christmas!” Said the big fat man, and looking up into his eyes, Krill suddenly grew very suspicious. He had only ever seen a shade of green like that on one human.

“What the hell have you done to yourself.” he demanded.

Adam raised an eyebrow, though most of his face was covered by a beard, “I have no idea what you’re on about.”

Krill was horrified, “Look at you…. How…. how do you gain that much weight in such a short amount of time. Are you mad? Are you ok? Are you going to die of a heart attack in the next fifteen minutes because something tells me this can’t be healthy.” He glared at the human, “When were you going to tell me that humans could just spontaneously gain an enormous amount of weight. Whatever this is, it is an immediate medical emergency. Plus the beard, some serious hormonal dis-regulation I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of-”

“KRILL! Its a suit, a costume, I didn’t just spontaneously gain weight.” The human adjusted his beard voice sounding more normal now that he wasn’t trying to make it deeper, “I’m Santa Claus? 

“And who is that supposed to be?”

“Well, he is the physical embodiment of the spirit of Christmas. Legend says, he lives at the north pole, and works with the elves making toys all year round. He keeps to lists, and on one list appears the name of all the well behaved children, and on the other list appears the names of the naughty children, he will check both lists twice, and there is no point trying to trick him because he sees everything. And then on the night of Christmas, he gathers all the presents into the back of his sleigh, which is pulled by nine magical flying reindeer. Then, he takes all night to to fly all around the world delivering presents to kids. Most of the time he comes down the chimney, if you have one. He will fill stockings (socks) hung over the fireplace with small toys and then put the big presents under the Christmas tree. If you were a bad kid than he wouldn’t leave a present, but a lump of coal instead. Generally it is recommended that one leaves some cookies and a glass of milk out as a thank you, oh, and carrots for the reindeer.”

….

There was silence for a long moment, “What  in the name of beelzebub's balls kind of story is that.”

Even through the beard he could tell that Adam was frowning, “Stop being such a Grinch. It’s a great story, to help kids behave, and keep the magic alive for a little while before you become and old cantankerous adult that doesn’t believe in anyone or anything anymore.”

“And what is a grinch.”

“A grinch is an angry green person who hates to see other people happy….. Arguably they also hate corporate Christmas, but I digress. Scrooge is also someone who doesn't get the point of Christmas, and both are definitely insults, now come on. You are joining me and my elves while we go deliver presents.”

Before he could protest, he was presented with pointy hat with a bell on it, and forced to follow as they wandered silently off down the halls.

Adam pulled out a clipboard, “Alright everyone, our list here says that approximately 85% of the crew celebrates Christmas, but we will still be delivering presents to everyone because we are nice and that is what we do. Nobody is expected to join in tomorrow but everyone is invited because we aren't trash humans.” Glados and Waffles walked at his heels as the rest of the humans followed behind lugging large bags over their shoulders, “Alright Katie, you’re with me in filling the stockings, the rest of you are charged with leaving a trail to the mess hall where the actual presents will be, one for everyone at least, no one is left out. Corporal, you get the people who don’t celebrate Christmas, and just leave the gifts outside their doors. Make sure to leave the notes for them as well so  they know they are invited if they want to come.” 

“Yes s…. Ur Mr. Claus?” 

“Damn Straight.”

“What about the Drev?”

“I am including them in the list of people who celebrate simply because I want them to have the experience once before they decide whether they like it or not. Everyone should get the chance to at least choose.”

It too nearly the next few hours to get things done. Krill Accompanied the Commander, Conn, waffles, and the Adaptids as they jingled quietly up the halls slipping into rooms where crew members had been instructed to leave socks hanging from their bed frames. 

On more than one occasion Krill watched as a very confused human, light sleeper, sat up and watched blearily as they exited the room with a confused look on their faces. Some seeming even amused. The heavier sleepers didn’t notice a thing.

They reached the Drev and Marine quarters at some point towards the end of the night, making it through one relatively quickly, but just as he was about to step into the last room, Glados growled and snapped at his boot. 

Commander…. Santa? Looked down and harrumphed, “Someone here is going on the naughty list.” Katie and Krill leaned forward as a light shined down on the delicate silver trip wire cut across the door.

Katie snorted, “Coal.”

Quietly, he stepped over the line and into the room Glados leaping behind him. “Alright which one of the naughty children is trying to capture St. Nick?”

Krill turned on his thermal vision and could see the vast majority of the marines were not sleeping.”

He turned to look over at Krill and Conn, who motioned in the direction of one of the beds. He walked quietly over leaning next to the ear of the ‘supposedly” Sleeping marine, “I see you when you’re sleeping Ramiez .”

There was an eruption of uncontained giggling around the room, which was rather strange coming from the large, muscular humans.

“Oh…. kinky.” A muffled voice whispered from somewhere.

More giggling.

“Is that you Santa?” 

“Guess who's getting coal for Christmas.” 

He turned towards the door.

“Wait, wait, Santa, wait! I have a question. “ 

He paused in the doorway raising his eyebrows at the marines who were sitting up, “What?”

“How did you get here without reindeer?”

He wagged a finger at them, “Very carefully. You better thank my elves, they had to get degrees in engineering, physics and rocket science to get me here. And what is worse, my Star-sleigh was pulled by a bunch of snarky starborn led by that one.” He pointed towards Conn, “he almost guided us into a black hole, so you better be nice and leave me out some cookies next year.” 

He stepped over the tripwire and back out into the hallway allowing the door to shut closed behind them.

Outside there was a trail of tinsel and strange footprints leading away from the doors and down the halls. He left the bag just outside the door with the rest of the stocking stuffers in it, not ever having intended to leave the marines with just coal.

They took one last jingling run up and down the halls for effect before retreating to the mess hall where they promptly passed out on bean bags by the holographic tree in front of the holographic fire. 

Glados crawled up onto the fake belly and curled up there glowering at anyone who got to close. Waffles and the other adaptids curled up just to the side.

***

Sunny woke up early the next morning thinking how odd it was, that strange tinkling sound in the middle of the night. She sat up looking over at the sock she had been asked to place in her room. She had been forced to borrow it from someone considering she didn’t wear socks, and was surprised to find something sticking out of it.

She wandered over and tipped the contents into her hands surprised to find an earth flower, and some miscellaneous items of use for her work down in engineering.

Curiously, she opened the door into the hallway idly munching on the flower, and found a trail leading from her door and down the hall. The scene surprised her, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to think. It clearly had the intention of being followed, and curious, she followed finishing off the flower as she came around the corner dropping the stem in surprise when she saw the room before her.

Hundreds of holographic lights, a tree, fire, piles of blankets and beanbags and lounging humans half asleep. Conn was floating up near the ceiling trailing tinsel. Krill was hovering beside the tree looking more than a little confused. Dr. Katie was moving wrapped gifts below the tree dressed like a peppermint stick.

Adam….. Well Adam was peeling off a suit that added about two hundred pounds to his frame. It seemed as if there had also been a fake beard and massive coat, as far as she could see. Took him a few seconds to wriggle out of the boots and oversized pants dumping them on a chair close by leaving him in a white shirt and military issue olive green pants.

He looked up from where he had dumped his costume and grinned at her.

She walked closer.

“Merry Christmas.”  

“Erm…. Merry Christmas?.... What’s a Christmas.”

“Apparently it’s a human holiday perpetrated on the idea that a magical fat man in a red suit, flies around the world on a magical sleigh pulled by magical non-flying flying mammal to deliver presents to children who were good…. Oh also he watches you when you sleep.” Sunny stared at Krill  in confusion.

Overhead Conn was mimicking voiceless laughter.

“Don’t mind him, he's being a little grinch as usual. Come on, we’re just waiting to give people time to show up, and then we are gonna open presents.”

“How did you manage to get something for everyone?

“Well I asked for help number one, but number two, what else am I supposed to do with my money. I mean I have a place to live, a place to sleep, entertainment, food, anything a guy could as for, so I just threw a paycheck or two at it. Otherwise its just sitting in my bank account collecting dust until I can find something dumb and nerdy to spend it on…. I thought…. Well I thought this would mean more than getting myself a light-saber or something.”

She stared at him for a long moment, “You are such a…. Sap.”

He smiled, “Maybe a little. I mean it's not much, anyway, but it made me feel good.”

She paused, tilted her head, and then hugged him. He seemed a little surprised one eye peering up at her from a four- arm embrace. He didn’t say anything until she let him go and he stepped back to look at her, “What was that for?”

“You…. well. You… deserve it. And I don’t think you get reminded enough.” 

She thought she saw a little bit of red creeping up his neck and he looked down at his feet, waving it off, “Nah, if you knew what went on inside my head, you wouldn’t say that.”

She decided not to argue with him, humans were horrible with accepting compliments sometimes. Instead she found herself sharing music with him as they lay on one of the beanbags waiting for the others to arrive.

He had his eyes closed appearing as if he was sleeping through she knew he probably wasn't . At some point he adjusted himself so that his head was resting on one of her arms, using her like a pillow. A few more people started to trickle in, including the marines, one of which, Ramirez, was wearing bright red footie pajamas and walked over to claim a bean bag just to the wide.

Adam opened an eye and looked over at him, “What the hell are you wearing.” 

“My footie pajamas.”

“Yeah I got that…..”

“Don’t diss the footies..” 

“ Yeah sure, anyway what would have happened if I stepped on the trip-wire?” Sunny lifted her head at the mention of a trip wire.

Ramirez grinned, “it would have been pretty glorious, that’s what, but guess you will never know.”

“Rude.”

A few of the other marines wandered in blearily, CJ, Davis, and maverick who took a seat cross-legged on the floor her short blond hair sticking up in all directions like the open wings of a bird.

Finally The commander determined it was time and began handing out the presents, first to the more introverted people, who he figured could take their present and head off if they really wanted. A few of the non-Christmas-people showed up just to hang out causing a sort of slow trickle in and out of the room almost constantly. 

Krill and Conn were both presented with gifts, Krill who just happened to get a little cube that was advertised as holding about a million different puzzles of all different types and at varying levels He seemed pleased, though he insisted on his patrol through the room to make sure the humans weren’t doing anything stupid.

Conn was presented with some sort of hand-held gaming system, actually relatively cheap compared to what they used to be. 

He loved it.

ANd based on Commander Vir’s smug expression, he had done it on purpose, probably to keep the starborn out of his head.

Sunny was standing at the back of the room watching the humans rather fondly, as well as the other Drev, who seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the humans. Her brother and Maverick were causing trouble across the room and nearly giving krill a conniption. Watching all of this, she still noticed Adam approaching from the side holding one last box.

He held it up, “One more present left.”

She turned to face him, “For you.”

He held it out, “Well you, obviously….. I sort of waited till last because…. Well you technically got more than everyone else. My Mom sent a few things up, and I just added her gift to mine.”

Sunny took the box and looked up in surprise, “Your mom…. But she…. She hates me.”

A small smile, “I think she's come around. It’s just taken her a while. I think this is supposed to be an apology. It's pretty cute, I think you should wear it.” 

Out of curiosity, she opened the box and looked inside to find a piece of fabric neatly folded on top. With her upper hands she reached to unfold it, whatever it was it was made out of very warm material, “What is it?”

“I guess it's called a cowl. She thought it would be something she could make that wouldn't get in the way of you wearing armor, and, since you guys sometimes wear capes, it would also go with that. Here try it on.” He took it from her hands standing on his tip-toes to pull it over her head and shoulders. Turned out it was pretty much just a hood, unattached to anything and that really only covered the head and shoulders.

She peered out form inside, to see him grinning. 

It was a funny picture, though she could see out, really the only think everyone else saw was the end of her snout/beak peeping out from under the hood. She lifted her head, and the hood fell a little further over her eyes.

He laughed, and helped her pull it back a bit, “She thought since you guys are more… warm weather creatures, that you could probably use one of these on our expeditions.”

“You should tell her thanks, from me.” 

“I will.”

She looked back down inside the box and was surprised to find it was full of different kinds of flowers. She looked back up at him in surprise, “How did you get these out here.”

“Wasn’t easy, tell you that.”

She leaned down snapping one of them up rewarded with a very light fragrant flavor. It was pretty nice, but then she looked back at Adam to see him smiling nearly dropping the box when she realized, “You! Where is your present. Didn’t you get anything?”

He just broke into a smile, “Sunny, I’m friends with like seven different kinds of aliens, I Command an entire FLEET of spaceships, and have like 300+ friends. I got my childhood dream, so what else do I need?”

She paused sure he was right, but also feeling bad.

They stood there together, looking out at the room when Ramirez glided past still in his footie pajamas. As he did his eyes widened a bit and he paused a slow grin spreading over his face. Adam gave him a very confused expression, but Ramirez just shook his head and pointed up before gliding away.

In confusion both Sunny and Adam looked up. 

Sunny tilted her head.

“What is that?”

She turned her head down to look at Adam and found the man’s skin changing color again. “Er….. it’s…. That appears to be…. mistletoe .” 

She lifted her head again to stare at the strange plant, “Oh….. like in that Christmas movie….”

“Yeah…. Like in that…. Christmas movie.” 

“Oh.”

They both looked down at about the same time. The way the Christmas lights interacted with the UV patterns on his skin, turned the usually blue, turquoise pattern on his skin almost electric lightning blue. The green in his eyes was more potent with the way the light refracted in them. Little twinkling lights danced over the polished surface of her bright-blue carapace.

He didn’t look away.

Neither did she.

And then a small brown shape came screaming from nowhere cutting between them. They both stepped back in shock, and Krill roared past grabbing the plant from where it hung, “Reeeeeeeeeeeeeee! NO, NO, NO, NO STUPID IDIOTIC HUMANS HANGING POISONOUS THINGS WHERE ANY OTHER STUPID HUMAN MIGHT EAT THEM! I WILL NOT HAVE IT YOU HEAR ME. I WILL NOT”  and then he went roaring away trailing laughter in his wake. Slowly Sunny and Adam turned to look at each other before doubling over racked with fits of laughter. Adam ended up on the floor leaning against the wall, just below where Sunny propped herself.

Just when they thought they'd stop laughing, they started up again.

“Damn…. Crazy…. Bastard.” Adam  Wheezed crawling to his feet

“Did you hear that sound he made?”

“Yeah, classic Krill….. Anyway.” He paused shuffling his feet, “Wanna go, push Ramirez over or something?”

“Sounds fun, I’m in.”

“Sweet.”

By the end of the hour, Ramirez was upside down in a pile of bean bags everyone laughing at his expense.

All in all, it was a pretty good Christmas

[greenninjagal-blog]

Different anon from last night, but I’d like to second that if you ever have the time platonic anxceitmus recs would be absolutely lovely

Wonderful!! I finally have time to do a deep search for these wonderful fics!! platonic dark bois is so underrated why aren’t there more of these.

breathing and other rhythms that used to be easy - A nightmare sends Virgil crawling back to the dark side in the middle of the night, just to check on Janus and Remus. In and Out. They won’t even know he’s there. Except that Janus is awake too.

Of Brothers and Bad Guys - Virgil raised them. And then he left. How do you apologize for that?

The Trouble We Overcome - Janus takes the boys on a picnic years before everything goes bad.

Trash Knight - Deceit is acting all wrong, and Remus tries ducks out. Virgil tries to piece things back together.

One Trainer’s Trash is Another Pokemon’s Treasure - Wild Eevee Remus finds a baby eevee in a dumpster and decides it belongs to him and Deceit now.

Tomato Boy and Scoobydoo Villain - Virgil’s not having a good time at his new school, but when the random boy in the hall offers him a tomato and he panics and throws it at his bully....well things might just start be getting better.

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays - Famous Song Writer Virgil falls in love with the wrong numbers he accidental texted. Which really isn’t all that bad until they start asking how he has all this money to spend on random presents for them. Meanwhile, Deceit and Remus enjoy laughing at Virgil panicking.

Family - Janus finds out about how Virgil tried to duck out two years ago.

All Together Now - Its Game Night for the Dark sides but Janus is in the middle of a video with Thomas. And when he comes back....well, can game night continue when Janus just had his name reveal?

Abduction - Earth has just joined the Galactic Alliance and is open for space travel. Virgil is quite comfy living on Earth with his mostly alien Roommates, but when smugglers target him Virgil wakes up actually lightyears from everything he’s ever known. Good thing is his roommates will do anything to track him down and he’ll do anything to get back to them.

A Strange Household - Janus gets booted from the Light sides and while he’s out wandering for a new place to live he finds two more sides. and subsequently dads the hell out of them.

First Impressions - Where Deceit and Virgil have been alone together for a decent amount of time, when a new side shows up and claims he’s Creativity. 

Flowered Doors - Virgil paints specific flowers on the doors in the mindscape.

Remus is a Good Parent - Sometimes you just gotta bring home the demon child you found in the garbage.

Blueberry Pancakes - Dorian deals with a lot of Remus’s shit, but up and dropping his brother on his couch before leaving? Well, at least Virgil likes him. Also: mafia.

Snakes Need Comfort Too - Roman calls Deceit a snake and a liar and well...he is, isn’t he? Virgil helps him remember that he’s more than just that.

Fading Away - Thomas keeps choosing Patton’s selfless sides of decisions and Deceit loses touch with reality. Literally. After all, who needs a tangible body, when they aren’t being used at all?

Deal Me In? - The Dark Sides have a Thing. A routine. A habit. They don’t talk about it but when Deceit pulls out a worn deck of cards and his poker chips, they all sit down and play together. Almost as if they’ve never fought before.

Love in the Shadows - Janus and Remus take Virgil back to the dark side when the Patton and Roman’s true colors are revealed. Logan doesn’t know what to do in his absence now, but maybe he can find a place in the dark side too?

I Feel Great - Virgil likes wearing clip on earrings, but a miscommunication with his boyfriends leads to him panicking at his best friends house.

The Terror of the Sea - Janus is the monster that demands human sacrifices from the seaside village for funsies. However not everyone sees his practical joke as fun.

And thats all I’ve got right now. For more reading stuff while I work on finding more of these, check out my Fic Rec Masterlist!

#greengabs #I'm sorry it took me so long #these lists take hours to put together #And I don't always have hours to do this :/// #hopefully these help yall #fic recs

[buzzdixonwriter]

Compare & Contrast: ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD Movie vs Novel

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is my favorite Quentin Tarantino film, a love letter to late 1960s Los Angeles / Hollywood, an alternate history where the wicked (or at least three of them) are punished and the virtuous are spared and rewarded.

Tarantino has since expanded his basic story into a new novel, Once Upon A Time In Hollywood and it’s interesting to compare & contrast the two approaches to the material.

Movie tie-in novelizations are not unusual, of course, but it’s the rare example when the original creator (writer or director) takes a whack at it.  Ian Fleming famously turned an unsold screenplay, James Bond Of The Secret Service, (written with Kevin McClory, Jack Whittingham, Ivar Bryce, and Ernest Cuneo) into the novel Thunderball and a busted TV pilot, Commander Jamaica, into Dr. No, while Ed McBain (a.k.a. Evan Hunter ne Salvatore Albert Lombino) adapted a couple of original 87th Precinct movie scripts into novels.  

Here Tarantino takes his stab at it, and the results are…well, let’s cut to the chase…

Which is better, movie or book?

Good movie, okay novel.

For those who want a more detailed analysis…

[SPOILERS GALORE]

Story Structure

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the novel is just barely a standalone story; it’s really enhanced by seeing the movie first.

The story flow is roughly the same, and it’s clear a lot of the material in the book are from early drafts of the screenplay (with a few callbacks to earlier Tarantino films).  There’s also a lot of material missing that was in the movie (the immediate aftermath of Cliff visiting George Spahn, f’r instance).

However, the main plot and many major scenes from the movie are described as almost asides, hints at things seen on screen that aren’t elaborated on in the movie.

In one sense, this works to the novel’s advantage; there’s little point in reiterating already familiar scenes.  On the other hand, scenes in the book that expand on scenes from the movie can benefit only by seeing the movie first.

While Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the movie features a pretty clear if typically erratic Tarantino timeline, the book’s timeline is less easy to track (but more on that later).

This isn’t a deal breaker in terms of enjoyment, but it occasionally does get in the way of the story telling.

Characters

What I liked most about Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the movie was that the Rick Dalton character is presented as a self-involved / over anxious / ot-nay oo-tay ight-bray actor who, despite his very apparent shortcomings, also demonstrates a truly professional dedication to his craft and an ability to listen and learn and grow.

Taking part in the big fight at the end cements his hero status in the framework of the movie.

He’s not nearly as likeable or as admirable in the book.

A big hunk of this is leaving out those crucial action beats mentioned above.  Another hunk is letting us peek too deeply into Rick’s head, and learning what happens to him after the climax of the film.

Instead of moving into the quality artsy A-list movie world as the film version intimates at the end, Rick becomes a John Wayne-like figure with similar intolerant attitudes, popular with middle American audiences.

He does come across as clear headed when it comes to his career and his place in the Hollywood pecking order, as demonstrated in his own analysis of why he would never have gotten Steve McQueen’s role in The Great Escape.

Sharon Tate is still the delightfully airy character shown in the movie, though Tarantino gives her a broader emotional palette to play with.  She comes across as more fully rounded than the movie version but is still the wonderful, life-loving character of the film.

Cliff Booth, on the other hand, suffers badly.

First off, Cliff’s character in the film is already extremely problematic.  The movie deliberately makes the circumstances around his wife’s death vague enough to be read in a variety of ways:  He could have deliberately murdered her and got away with it, it could have been justifiable homicide in self-defense, it could have been an accident, it could have been something else.

We never know and that works to give Cliff a Schrodinger’s cat-like characterization:  We can’t know until we open the box and look in.

Well, Tarantino flings open the box and boy, what’s inside is stupid.

I can absolutely believe Cliff killed his wife in a momentary fit of rage, I do not believe the speargun cut her in half and he held the two halves together so they could have a long lovey-dovey talk until the Coast Guard shows up and she literally falls apart.

If Tarantino’s intent was to hint Cliff had a psychotic fugue after he killed his wife and thought he was holding her together and talking to her, he didn’t make that clear.

Considering how often Tarantino employs the omniscient third person point of view in this story, I don’t think it’s a failure style but of plotting.

That would be bad enough, but there’s a lot of other problems with Cliff in the book.

He flat out murders four people by the time of the novel:  Two petty gangsters back east, his wife, and the guy who offered him a share of Brandy’s prize money from dog fights.

Yeah, Cliff is plugged into the dog fighting world and really enjoys it.  He shows enough affection and appreciation for Brandy the pit bull to recognize when her career is over, and he’s ruthless enough to kill Brandy’s co-owner when the guy insists on sending her to her almost certain death in one last dog fight.

[Sidebar: Elsewhere Tarantino has told aspiring writers to leave morality out of their character’s motives and despite this sounding counterintuitive, it’s actually solid advice.  Morality forces good guys to act like good guys, it never gives the characters room to think and breathe and act as real people.  Tarantino isn’t saying characters can’t make moral choices, but those moral choices must come from who they are, not from some arbitrary code or editorial fiat.  To this degree the novel Once Upon A Time In Hollywood depicts Cliff in a wholly believable light, a natural born survivor who will do whatever’s necessary to stay alive.]

Book Cliff is depicted as a far more unpleasant person than Rick, lightyears more unpleasant than movie Cliff.  Part of this is a deliberate choice on Tarantino’s part as his omniscient third person point of view frequently mediates on the meaning of likeability vs believability in movie terms; he certainly strives to makes Rick and Cliff as unlikeable as possible (Sharon, too, but she’s basically too sweet a character for any negativity to rub off on her).

Cliff also demonstrates a considerable amount of bigotry and prejudice, in particular his opinions on Bruce Lee.  The substance of those opinions re Lee’s martial arts abilities is not the problem, it’s the way in which they are expressed.

Does this sound believable coming from a near 50 year old WWII vet?  Yeah, it does.  That doesn’t mean the book benefits from it.

Which leads to the single biggest problem with Cliff, however, is his age and background.

Tarantino envisions him as a WWII vet, a survivor of the Sicily campaign reassigned to the Philippines (as with Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino really doesn’t care about what actually happened in WWII), taken prisoner by the Japanese, escaping to the jungles to lead a guerilla force against the Imperial Army, recipient of two “Medals of Valor” (who knows what Tarantino means by this as no such award exists in the US military.  Medal of Honor?  Distinguished Service Cross?  Silver Star?  Bronze Star?), and record holder for the most confirmed Japanese killed by a single individual who wasn’t a crew member of the Enola Gay.

Okay, so that makes him what, mid-20s at the youngest in 1945?  

He’d be 49 at the time of Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, not an unheard of age for Hollywood stunt men but certainly pushing the edge of the envelope.

Playing Rick’s double?  That sounds quite a bit more farfetched.  Rick’s exact age is never mentioned but from the way others treat him, he’s somewhere between Cliff’s age and that of James Stacy, the real life actor who starred in the Lancer pilot Rick is filming in 1968 when Stacy would be 32 years old.

That would make Rick roughly 40 at the time, and there’s an aside in the book that reveals one of Rick’s early roles was in 1959’s  Away All Boats, the latter with Tom Laughlin (who in real life later directed and starred in Billy Jack), and since Rick and Laughlin are presented as contemporaries and Laughlin was born in 1931, this would make Rick 28 when Bounty Law started airing that same year and he and Cliff, then age 40, first started working together.

Cliff saves Rick’s life from a stunt gone wrong early in the filming of Bounty Law, so one understands how their bond formed and why Rick continues to keep Cliff around even after Cliff kills his wife.

Missing from the novel is the voice of Randy Miller, the stunt director (played by Kurt Russell in the film) who narrates much of the movie.  I can’t recall if Randy is even mentioned by name in the book, but he certainly isn’t featured prominently in it.  Sometimes the narrative voice of the novel seems to be his, sometimes it seems to be Tarantino’s (and we’ll discuss that below, too).

Not all the characters in the movie make it to the pages of the book, and likewise quite a few characters appear who never showed up in the film version of Once Upon A Time In Hollywood or any other Tarantino film.

Sharon Tate first appears in the book hitchhiking and accepting a ride from rodeo cowboy Ace Woody, originally slated to be one of the assorted baddies in Django Unchained but later melded into another character.

On the other hand, many minor and obscure real life Hollywood players and personalities and hangers on do appear in the novel.  Tarantino is careful to put dialog in the mouths of only certifiably dead personalities, however, and as we’ll go into down below, that’s a wise move.

(BTW, Tarantino works himself into his own story a couple of times, mentioning himself as the director of a remake of John Sayles’ The Lady In Red featuring a grown up Trudi Fraser a.k.a. Mirabella Lancer in the Lancer pilot Rick is starring in, and as the son of piano player Curt Zastoupil, Tarantino’s real life step-father, who asks Rick for an autographed photo for his son Quentin.)

The Hollywood Stuff

Which leads us to the real hook of the book, a glimpse behind the scenes of Hollywood circa 1969.

If, like me, you’re fascinated by this sort of stuff, Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is a fun read.

Tarantino is a devourer of pop culture and dedicates his book in part to Bruce Dern, David Carradine, Burt Reynolds, Robert Blake, Michael parks, Robert Forester, and Kurt Russell, thanking them for the stories they told him about “old time” Hollywood (i.e., the 1950s and 60s from Tarantino’s reckoning).

A lot of the book rings true in attitudes and opinions expressed back in that era, and some of the stories included are jaw-dropping (the Aldo Ray one especially).

The examinations of various maneuverings and strategies in the entertainment industry are also illuminating.

However, this raises a fair question about what the intent of any given work is, and how well documented a work of fiction needs to be.

There’s a trio of actors (all dead so none can sue Tarantino for libel) labeled in derogatory terms as homosexuals in two or three places in the book.

There’s some observations on race that sound absolutely authentic coming from the mouths of those particular characters at that particular time, but one questions the need for using those exact terms today; it’s not that difficult to show the character speaking is bigoted without letting them sling all the slurs they want.

Speaking of terms, I’ve never heard “ringer” used before in the film industry in the context of this book, so if it’s fake, Tarantino did an absolutely convincing job presenting it as real.

But here’s where we start heading into some problematic areas, not problematic in undermining the enjoyment of the book, but problematic in the sense of understanding what Tarantino is trying to convey.

Cliff’s story is awfully close to Robert Blake’s story, and you’d be hard pressed to find many people in town today who don’t think he got away with murder.

And of all the TV show’s to pick for Rick to be playing the villain in the pilot episode, why Lancer?

Few people today remember the series, and Tarantino taking liberties with the actual pilot episode plot isn’t noteworthy…

…or is it?

The actual series starred Andrew Duggan as Murdoch Lancer, patriarch of the Lancer family, with Wayne Maunder played Scott Lancer, the upscale older son, and James Stacy as his half-brother, gunslinger Johnny Madrid Lancer. Elizabeth Baur played Teresa O'Brien, Murdoch Lancer's teenage ward. 

For Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, Tarantino replaced the real life Elizabeth Baur / Teresa O’Brien with “8 year old” Trudi Frazer (in the book; Fraser in the movie) / Mirabella Lancer (played in the film by 10 year old Julia Butters).

Why Lancer?  Why this particular change?

Lancer’s Johnny Madrid Lancer was played by James Stacy, a brief appearance in the film, but far more substantial scenes in the book (as well as the reader getting to see what he’s thinking and feeling).  Tarantino uses these scenes in the book to explain a bit about on set etiquette.

James Stacy was an actual person, and he actually played Johnny Madrid Lancer in the series.

In September of 1973, he was maimed in a motorcycle accident, losing his left arm and leg.

He refused to let his disability sideline him, and in 1975 appeared in Posse as a newspaper man, then went on to play numerous supporting roles in films and TV shows until 1995.

That was the year he was arrested, tried, and convicted of molesting an 11 year old girl.

He didn’t show up for his sentencing hearing, choosing instead to fly to Hawaii and attempt suicide.  Arrested and returned to California, instead of probation he received a 6 year prison sentence when it was learned he’d been arrested twice after the first crime on prowling charges in which he approached two other young girls.

Quentin Tarantino, the all time grand master maven of pop culture didn’t know this?

And in the book, Trudi calls Rick for a later night conversation about their day on the set.

This is an 8 year old child calling an adult after midnight.

To their credit, Tarantino and Rick both tell Trudi up front this is not an appropriate thing to do…

…but the call continues.

It doesn’t veer off into creepy territory, and when it ends it actually puts Rick’s character back on an upward trajectory, one in which he no longer feels he’s screwed up his life.

But still…

This is a really weird context.

(The scene was filmed for the movie but didn’t make the final cut.  Look closely on the movie poster under Brad Pitt’s chin and you’ll see an image of Julia Butters holding a teddy bear and talking on the phone.)

Style

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the movie is consistent and spot on.  It uses cinematic language to maximum effect.

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the book is all over the map.

It manages to stay entertaining even at its most erratic, but the inconsistency works against it.

As noted before, the point of view is constantly shifting, sometimes seen through a character’s eyes, sometimes through an omniscient third person point of view, sometimes in what appears to be uncredited narration from Randy, and in several chapters exploring the Lancer story-within-a-story as mediocre pulp fiction typical of movie and TV tie-ins of the era.

Tarantino does not stay consistent with his characters, either.  This indicates adapting scenes from earlier drafts without really smoothing out the fit.

Another point of view issue is Tarantino’s own.

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the novel reads like the work of an older, very culturally conservative writer.

Many writers will argue that the evils their characters do in their books are not reflections on the author but simply the character acting consistently with who they are.

Kinda true…but that character comes from the writer’s imagination, and the writer needs to think up all those terrible things the character thinks and does and say, so somewhere deep down inside the dungeons of that writer’s mind…those things live and breed.

Rick is depicted as out of step with the new Hollywood and the hippie era in both film and book, but the book reinforces and rewards him for being out of step, unlike the movie whree he finds an entrance to the future.

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the novel now makes me reexamine all of Tarantino’s earlier efforts, in particular Pulp Fiction and Django Unchained and The Hateful 8 and see if his world view has changed, or if its been there all the time only he concealed it better in the past.

Presentation

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood the book is packaged to look like a mass market paperback from the late 1960s to 1980s (in fact, very specifically 1980s style mass market paperbacks).

It even closes with ads for Oliver’s Story, Serpico, and The Switch, all bona fide movie tie-ins books, as well as Ride A Wild Bronc, a fictitious title, written by Marvin H. Albert.

Albert was a bona fide popular fiction writer under his own name and several pseudonyms, as well as screenplays based on his books for Duel At Diablo, Rough Night In Jericho, Lady In Cement, and The Don Is Dead.  Tony Rome, played by Frank Sinatra in two movies, is probably his best known character.  Several of the books he wrote were movie and TV tie-ins including The Pink Panther and The Untouchables.

The last ad is for the deluxe hardcover edition of Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, promising new material and previously unreleased photos.

The editing and copyediting of the book are subpar.  As noted above, tone and consistency fluctuate throughout the book.  A sharper editor would have removed redundancies, smoothed out clunky scenes.

Typographical errors abound throughout.  Early on they mention the Mannix TV show in italics (the book’s standard style for movie and TV show titles) then sloppily put the character’s name, Mannix, in italics as well and, to add further insult to injury, Mannix’ secretary Peggy also gets her name italicized.  Song titles are listed either in italics or unitalicized in quotes; pick a style and stick with it, guys…

Finally, Quentin baby, I gotta say ya missed a bet by not having a cardboard center insert ad for Red Apple cigarettes; that would have completely nailed the retro look.

  © Buzz Dixon

#Once Upon A Time In Hollywood #writing #Quentin Tarantino #Compare And Contrast

[seriouslyhooked]

I Luv You (A CS HS AU)

Reader prompted CS High School AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are friends but Emma wants more. There’s miscommunication (Emma thinks he loves someone else), but ultimately a cute and fluffy ending. Available on FF here and AO3 here. 

A/N: Hey all! I have had quite a few of you ask for more high school AUs for Emma and Killian, and my muse rarely trends in that direction. But, after many many months of trying to find a story that worked, I stumbled across this song, ‘I Luv You’ by Sofia Carson and R3MIX. One of the lyrics has been stuck in my head on repeat, and I’ve thought of how wonderful it would be to incorporate into a CS drabble. As such, this story centers around Emma and Killian meeting in their senior year of high school. Killian is new to their school, having moved from the UK, but they’ve instantly clicked and prom season is coming up. Emma wants to go with Killian, but she’s aware that he might not be over someone else from his past, then, because I’m addicted to fluff, it all turns out to be a great big misunderstanding. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Everything’s going to be fine. I can handle this. I can get over him. Maybe? Someday? Oh God.

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Emma shook away the anxious thoughts that had clung to her for weeks. She didn’t want to linger in them, but she couldn’t let them go. Everywhere she went they followed, and there seemed to be no reprieve. As a result, she was a stressed-out mess, and her ability to hide her feelings was growing weaker and weaker by the minute.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Ems,” her friend Ruby said casually from where she was perched on Emma’s kitchen countertop, eating directly out of a tub of Ben & Jerry’s chunky monkey.

Ruby’s legs dangled as she swiped the last of the ice cream from her spoon greedily. She’d downed a full carton just this afternoon, the calories and sugar rush a non-issue. Emma knew if she tried that her mother would probably have a fit, but Ruby could get away with anything in the Nolan house. Emma’s parents had adored her since Emma and Ruby’s first day of kindergarten all those years ago when Ruby announced to the class that Emma was her ‘bestest friend’ and anyone who messed with her was ‘gonna know her wrath.’ At age five Emma had no idea what that meant, but to this day her Mom and Dad adored Ruby. She was loyal and courageous, and she’d lived up to her promise, proving to be the best friend Emma could ask for.

“I’m not worried,” Emma replied, but the declaration was hollow and lacked conviction.

“You’re gonna need to work on your acting, girl,” Ruby said with a sigh and a sad headshake, as if Emma’s attempt at seeming okay was just pitiable. “But seriously, all this stressing is for nothing. Killian is totally going to ask you to prom. He’s gonna swoop in with everything but a white horse, tell you he loves you, and steal your heart.”

“Ruby,” Emma whispered, chastising her friend but without much conviction. She wanted to reprimand Ruby for her fanciful ideas, but she couldn’t form more words in the face of someone stating exactly what she dreamed of.

“And honestly, it’s about time. You’ve been dancing around each other for ages. I mean I love a good slow burn, but this is just ridiculous.”

It certainly felt like Ruby was right, but Emma knew better than to believe that. No matter how many butterflies might take flight within her every time she saw him, or how many times her thoughts drifted to the handsome boy who’d become one of her closest friends, Emma knew that the feelings in her heart were one sided. Killian was in love with someone else, a girl back where he was from who he’d known before moving here. She still had his heart, and so Emma never could. She only wished that everyone else understood, maybe then they’d stop always talking like the two of them being together was a given.

“You’re one to talk. Dee, asked you to prom literally months ago, before prom was even announced.”

“Of course she did. She’s my girlfriend. Plus, she wanted to lock me down. I’m a hot commodity, as you well know.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby’s antics. Her best friend loved to talk a big game, but since meeting her girlfriend, Dorothy, last year she’d been nothing but the picture of fidelity. She was smitten as could be and very much in love, but Ruby was determined to be considered a ‘wild child’ and Dorothy, or Dee, as everyone called her, was only happy to oblige.

“Okay well new rule, happily coupled off ‘besties’ don’t get to tell the single one not to worry.”

“Ugh, fine. But only because I love you and you used the word ‘besties’ with only limited sarcasm. I’m totally wearing you down.”

Emma bit back a smile and shook her head, but she was grateful for the out Ruby provided her. It wasn’t her friend’s natural instinct to walk back her opinion, and it showed Emma how much their friendship mattered to Ruby that she’d even try to do so.

“Also, I may or may not have agreed to be part of a conspiracy meant to distract you and then guide you to an important event that I cannot actually tell you about because I swore myself to secrecy.”

“Come again?” Emma asked, totally confused even as her pulse began to beat in faster time. Secret plot? What the heck was that? And why did she feel like it involved a certain hot, charismatic, and irresistible boy she could never stop thinking about?

“Wish I could explain, but that’s the whole thing about swearing yourself to secrecy, you kind of have to mean it. Mums the word, or whatever people say.”

“Ruby, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything except for making one teeny tiny little promise.”

“And that promise was…?”

“To make sure you stayed right here until…” she glanced at the time on the stove and smiled, “Now. All right, two minutes from now, but still. You get the drift.”

“Ruby, I don’t understand.”

“Emma,” Ruby said taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it gently, “You know I would never steer you wrong, right? I can’t get into it, but let’s just say there’s a reason I’ve been promising you that everything for prom would work out.”

Emma took Ruby’s words in and did the simple math: Ruby had been telling her not to worry about Killian asking because she knew he was planning to. He had told Ruby somehow, convincing her to help him with this surprise, and Ruby had agreed. It made Emma’s heart thump loudly in her chest over and over again, but then dread crept in. He was going to ask her to prom, but it was going to be a friend asking a friend. Somehow that was worse than not being asked at all. It would mean being so close to what she wanted, but still so painfully far away.

“Killian,” Emma whispered, her lips not daring to utter more than his name as the nerves took over.

“Yes, Killian,” Ruby said with a gleam in her eye, hopping off the table and straightening out Emma’s hair and her outfit like a personal stylist with a critical eye. “Don’t worry, you look totally kick ass, and so my work here is done. He’ll be here any minute, and I think it’s best if I get out of here before he does. Wouldn’t want to stifle any moments with my ever-present wit.”

Emma stood there in shock, watching her friend grab her bag and sashay out of the kitchen. Emma heard her retreating footsteps and barely managed to all out “Wait, Ruby!” before the front door closed. Ruby was gone, having departed the scene in a haste on par with that cartoon roadrunner she used to watch as a kid.

For a moment Emma warred with herself about what to do. She wanted desperately to wait here and to let him ask her. Maybe it would be more than a friend asking a friend. Maybe something had happened with the girl back home. Maybe he was free, free to love her, to choose her, to want her back… but then again maybe her greatest worries were exactly right. Maybe the nagging voice in the back of her mind that said something so perfect could never work out was correct. Either way she panicked, choosing self-preservation over facing what may come.

Leaving everything behind, Emma snuck out the sliding back door, breaking out in a run from the porch and heading into the thick grove of trees behind her home. There was a well-worn walking path that headed deep into the woods, and Emma knew it well, well enough to veer off of it and find her way to the one place she could imagine any kind of comfort at a time like this – the meadow.

Not far from her house there was a private glen that ran along the river, out of the way of any foot traffic that may come through the bramble of these woods. Emma had found it as a child, and for some reason no one ever seemed able to find her there. She could get lost for hours in that grove, enjoying the sun and the flowers and the sound of running water coursing by. It was close to home, but felt lightyears away and in that glen she could be anything and anyone. Her imagination was free there and her cares were far away. It was her special place, the one she never shared, the one she kept so close to her heart it felt like only hers. But then, on a whim, she’d brought Killian there, and though it was scary to do that, he’d reacted in the perfect way.

“It’s otherworldly, Emma. I can understand your love for this spot. I can think of no better place that I’ve ever been before.”  

Emma held back tears as she approached this little oasis, knowing that it wouldn’t hold the answers that she wanted. Instead it would likely just remind her of Killian, and all that she wanted but that they just couldn’t have.

The closer she got, however, the more Emma realized that something was different. It was early spring, but she saw bright colors from afar. They were similar to the wildflowers that bloomed in May and June, but it was too early for them. Only when she got closer did she realize what was happening. The flowers here were real but were not wild. They were an assortment of every kind of blossom she’d ever loved and they had been placed by someone, filling the space in an attempt to recreate the most magical moments this meadow had to bring.

It dawned on her that no one would know to do this but Killian, and as she got closer Emma felt the tears brought on by his sweetness. By the time she was at the meadow’s edge, tears were streaming down her face, and she didn’t bother wiping them away as her hand came over her mouth.

There must be thousands of flowers here, and Emma had no idea how he could have possibly done this. Where would he even find so many flowers? And how could he have time? It would have taken him all day to do this, and so much longer to think of it. This was so much effort to go through for a friend, it almost made her think that she had to be wrong. He must feel the same. He must –

“I had pictured this going a little differently,” a voice said and Emma whipped around to see Killian, looking at her with a warm smile. He was genuinely glad to see her, but the bashfulness on his face was unmistakable and it made him look even more handsome. That earnest feeling mixed with seeing him dressed up, well it drove her a little wild, but she didn’t dare to move, waiting for him to approach her instead. “But I should have known you’d find your own way. You always do.”

“Why?” Emma asked, and Killian’s brow furrowed before she elaborated. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Because you deserve nothing less,” he countered, taking her hand though his blue eyes stayed locked on hers. “I did this because I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a very long time. I’ve gone back and forth about when and how. I wanted it to be right, but I couldn’t decide how. It’s just – well it’s complicated. Us being friends, it’s amazing and I’ve never had someone in my world like you, and I was afraid I’d muck it up, so I…”

He trailed off, his hand scratching behind his ear in a show of embarrassment and Emma swallowed down the hurt as best she could. She had been right. This was a prom proposal based in friendship, nothing more. He didn’t feel the same. He didn’t want her. He was just kind and good and perfect and he wanted to give her a lovely memory even if he couldn’t give her his love.

“Emma Nolan, will you -,”

Before he could get the words out Emma interrupted him, afraid that if he asked she’d break down in front of him and give herself away. This was a nightmare right now and she couldn’t bear it. “Killian… I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Before he could respond, she sprinted back towards the house, tears falling as she raced through the backwoods. Through the haze of her adrenaline, she heard him call her name, and then she felt his hand on her arm, halting her, holding her steady.

“Emma, love, I don’t understand. Have I done something? Is there…” his voice grew fraught and tense. “Is there someone else?”

“Of course there is!” she exclaimed, “But not for me. For you!”

“I don’t understand,” he replied, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Of course you don’t,” she said, a sad laugh emanating from her as she waved her hands in dismay. “I love you, Killian.”

“I love you too,” he replied immediately, and she shook her head.

“No, not as a friend. I love you. Like for real.”

“Emma, I feel the same way about you. I’ve been trying to tell you forever, but every time I tried you shut me down.”

“I had to,” she cried out. “Because you’re not over her.”

“Over who?”

“Merida.”

“Who?” he asked, sounding completely unaware of the name of the girl he loved.

“You know, the girl Liam’s always reminding you about.”

At the mention of the name Killian still looked confused and then he laughed. Wait, he’s laughing? Why is he laughing? This is serious! Before she could get angry though he pulled her to him, distracting her with his nearness as the sound of his voice washed over her.

“God I could kill my brother for this, but I haven’t got the time. Emma, ‘Merida’ is not some long-lost love I’m pining away for. She’s a seventy-six-year-old Scottish woman who used to be our neighbor.”

“Oh.” What else was there to say? Clearly she’d been an idiot.

“The only girl I’ve ever pined for has golden hair, jade colored eyes, and a bit of a temper.”

“Hey, I don’t -,” Killian interrupted her with a kiss she never saw coming, but that Emma immediately melted into. How could she fight with someone when they could do this instead? God it was perfect, everything she’d ever dreamed of, and even more he loved her! He’d said he loved her right? Oh please let her have heard that right. She waited when they broke apart, hoping he’d reiterate the words she’d always craved.

“She’s also brilliant and beautiful and bold. She’s kind and honest, fair and good. She’s always looking out for the people who she loves, and by God when she smiles at me, it’s like heaven itself made just for me.”

Emma looked at his face, searching for any trace of deceit, but there was none. He was pouring his heart out to her and laying it all on the line. It was just what she’d always wanted.

“I love you, Emma. I knew I would from the moment that we met. It’s you Emma. The girl I can’t get over is you, and I have no plans of ever trying. You’re it for me. I know we’re young, but I don’t care because -,”

This time it was her turn to pull him for a kiss, and she couldn’t help herself. After months of wanting him, he was finally hers, or maybe he had been all along. It felt so good to finally have this, to know that the dream she’d been waiting for was even better than her imagination could fathom, and only when they broke apart did she realize what this meant.

“Oh my God I messed everything up,” she said, hiding her face in his neck in embarrassment. “You tried to ask me to prom in the most romantic way and I ruined it.”

“I wasn’t planning to ask you to prom, Emma.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, love I was asking you to be mine, just as I’m yours. But as for ruining things, surely you must know you never could,” he said, his fingers running through her hair as he gazed at her adoringly. “You’ve made this the best day I’ve ever known. You told me you loved me. You let down the last bit of wall that was separating us. Everything’s been said now. There’s no secrets, no more doubts. You know my heart and I know yours. I couldn’t ask for more. And as for prom, if you want to go then we’ll go. I want to be wherever you are, Emma. For me it’s just that simple.”

“I want that too,” Emma said, kissing him again and feeling the lightness and joy that came with love that was reciprocal and true. After all the heart ache, they were together, and Emma knew their love would be forever. No matter what may come, or where they went from here, they were just meant to be. Always had been, always would be.

And though they spent the next few hours surrounding themselves in their newly found bliss, they eventually concurred that prom was a must. After all, Ruby would kill her if she didn’t go, and with Killian by her side it was bound to be a night she’d always remember and never forget.  

…………….

You the type of guy to write a song about You're laid back, nobody know what's on your mind We been talking for a while now (We been talking for a while now) And I been falling for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

You the type of guy to tell your mom about You're laid back, but running circles round my mind I been falling for a while now (I been falling, I been falling, I been falling) But you been lying for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you (I can't get over you)

I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

Post-Note: So there we have it. I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble, and to my lovely readers who always ask me for more bisexual Ruby representation, I had you guys in mind with this one too. I know it’s a very short feature, and I am usually very committed to the Ruby/Graham pairing, but I’m happy to share the love for everyone that I can. I wish the show had developed a lot of these characters and relationships more, but hey, there’s always fanfic! Anyway, thank you all for reading and hope you have a great weekend!  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs #cs au #cs ff #cs fluff #cs hs au #captain swan high school au #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #ouat au #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #i luv you #i luv you cs #prompted fic

[coffeefairy]

Writer’s Month August 2020 - Day 4

Day four of the challenge, no one is more surprised than I am!

Day 4, Long distance relationship

Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager

Ship: Harry Kim/Tom Paris

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Tom and Harry get put in opposite shifts and find out that three decks sometimes can feel as far as seventy-five thousand lightyears. Set sometime during season 2.

Excerpt: The next thing he’d known was the ensign at the transporter conn clearing her throat. Pulling away he’d found himself and Tom in the same position they’d been in, huddled together, kissing desperately but instead of being surrounded by the disintegrating shuttle, they were sitting on the transporter pad.

The Captain had looked harried, hair not as neat as normal, but she had relaxed and even afforded them an amused eyebrow raise.

“I’d say as you were, gentlemen, but I think we’d all be happy to get out of this nebula.”

Tags: Love confession, established relationship, long distance (sorta, not geographically), terrible title that may change

Scheduling Conflicts

“Hey, Harry.” 

Harry’s combadge beeped for a private channel and Tom’s voice spoke at a murmur, only loud enough for him to hear.

Everyone was allowed to use private channel communication on the Bridge, but not loud enough to disturb others. As he was at his Ops conn, it wouldn’t bother anyone so he muttered,

“Hey,” in reply.

“Do you want pizza or steak for dinner? I can’t make up my mind.”

“I don’t trust you to replicate steak so I’m voting pizza.”

“Hey, not fair. Didn’t I replicate a great dinner last time?”

“It was tomato soup. Plain tomato soup.”

“Well, excuse me, Mr Cordon Bleu,” Tom chuckled over the line. “Me and my insulted pride will go and make the pizza now.”

“I’ll see you after gamma shift ends. I’ll cheer you and your insulted pride up.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tom’s voice dropped to a purr. “Will you come back and-”

“Bye,” Harry interrupted and ended the call. However amusing his boyfriend would find it, he wouldn’t want to spend the rest of his shift turned on by whatever suggestion Tom had been about to make. 

Smiling at the prospect of heading to Tom’s quarters after his shift, he started another scan of the area. 

They’d only been together a few months, everything still sparkling and wondrous. The change from friendship to romantically involved had been easier than Harry had anticipated. They were still great friends, but now he was allowed to act on the impulse when he wanted to reach out for Tom, run his hand through his hair, kiss him. All the things that had been driving him crazy before, the wish to get closer always ringing in his head, had quietened now that he knew he could follow its lead. 

It had taken almost dying of exposure in a disintegrating shuttle but the feelings it turned out both of them had held back had risen to the surface, the thought of dying with Tom never knowing how loved he was impossible for Harry to even contemplate. The moment, stark in his memory flashed in his mind. The blood on Tom’s face, so bright in the otherwise monochrome world, his eyes shining with fear, regret, and somehow through it all, determination and hope. His surprise, then wonder and awe as Harry tried to get the last oxygen to last for the words he had to say. In the cold impending vacuum he hadn’t heard the first time Tom said he loved him too, but he’d seen his lips form the words. Their lips had met an instant later, Harry prepared for it to be the last thing he ever knew.

The next thing he’d known was the ensign at the transporter conn clearing her throat. Pulling away he’d found himself and Tom in the same position they’d been in, huddled together, kissing desperately but instead of being surrounded by the disintegrating shuttle, they were sitting on the transporter pad. The Captain had looked harried, hair not as neat as normal, but she had relaxed and even afforded them an amused eyebrow raise. 

“I’d say as you were, gentlemen, but I think we’d all be happy to get out of this nebula.”

It had made their relationship public from the moment it had started but any fear Harry may have felt at this prospect had faded quickly. Thomas Eugene Paris, it turned out, was an excellent boyfriend. Attentive, focused, loving, with the edge of fun and the unexpected he had always represented in Harry’s life. 

A light flashing on his conn caught his attention.

“Captain, I’m reading a tachyon disturbance seventy-five lightyears away and it’s-”

The impact was sudden, shuddering through the hull. The Captain, eyes steely and voice cool ordered red alert. Harry bid farewell to the pizza with Tom.

o.O.o

Sometimes three decks could feel as far as seventy-five thousand lightyears. Janeway was trying out new shift configurations in an attempt to iron out the last vestiges of the two crews of Voyager feeling like two. Always championing her “one ship, one crew” policy, she was moving everyone around from their usual rotations to promote “increased understanding”. While Tom approved of the idea in theory, he wasn’t happy he and Harry had ended up on opposite shifts. The little time he managed to see his boyfriend he was either falling asleep or getting up. The fact that he often found him in bed surely had its advantages but he missed just being with him. Hell, he even missed working with him. Hearing that deep voice in its professional mode, coolly assessing and analyzing, stating facts and numbers with the ease of a more experienced officer. You had to have got it bad when you found someone’s work voice sexy. 

Still, Tom would take any abuse his younger (stupider) self would heap on him for acting like a lovelorn fourteen-year-old if he could see him now. That Tom had never known what was good for him anyway. Older (wiser) Tom did and he knew beyond a doubt he’d never do better than Harry Kim. 

It had been surprising to find himself falling so quickly for someone he’d just met, he’d assumed himself too old and cynical for it. But it hadn’t taken Harry more than a few hours to disabuse him of that notion. Harry believed the best of people, and not because he was naive, but because he wanted to. He was handsome, funny and smarter than anyone gave him credit for. So was it any wonder?

Smiling to himself, Tom adjusted the course minutely. He didn’t have to, they’d earn three minutes on their journey time of seventy-five years but it pleased him to fly to the best of his ability. He figured the difference between a pilot who flew and one who cruised on the straight stretches was in the details. 

On his conn, the private messaging function beeped. Opening the side panel he saw Harry reminding him they’d agreed to meet in Sandrine’s at eight. Tom knew Harry was going to stay awake for about an hour before his early start would catch up to him. Still, it was an hour he’d get to see him, conscious and talking. Tapping the message to acknowledge the receipt, he heard the Security officer at the conn Tom thought of as Tuvok’s, inform Janeway of some unusual readings. Posed to change course at her order, he waited for it. The Captain didn’t miss opportunities to explore unknown phenomena. Then his conn flashed, crackled and died. An instant later it began spouting numbers and figures at him that made no sense. Behind him he heard from the others all conns on the Bridge had experienced the same malfunction. Grimly, he looked up to the viewscreen to do his best to fly blind with only the unknown stars to guide him.

There was no way he’d ever make it to Sandrine’s by eight.

o.O.o

After three weeks, Tom and Harry asked for a private word with the Captain. It was easily granted and they explained that while they weren’t asking for special treatment, the new schedule was preventing them from seeing each other, in effect putting them in a long distance relationship on a vessel smaller than what could be classified a village. Janeway had narrowed her eyes, explained no one could be seen getting preferential hours. They had both volunteered for the unpopular night cycle shift.

“No, no need. I actually would like to return to some of the old configurations. And,” she consulted her PADD, “you’re both back to Bridge duty as of next week, on the alpha shift. That said,” she interrupted their congratulatory glance. “As Bridge officers we...we have a duty to the rest of the ship. We can never let our personal lives get in the way of our work. When we work, we’re present. I can’t allow any...change in circumstances, or outside influence affect your work, and if I see that it is, then this shift rotation may well change.”

“Yes, Captain,” the chorused. 

“Very well, dismissed.”

At the door she stopped them with a raised hand. “Tom...Harry, I...As your Captain I’ve told you the rules for fraternization, as Starfleet insists on calling it. But I want you to know that…” she looked out towards the windows to the right, to the stars sweeping by, discovered for the first time by human eyes, to be left behind the next moment. “That I am very happy for you. Where we are, what we are living through, it’s...it’s good to have someone to share it with. Someone who is going through the same.”

With the Captain’s well wishes they left her to stare at her PADDs, chewing at her bottom lip, a far-seeing look in her eye. One or two of their colleagues afforded them a curious glance as they passed through the Bridge after exiting the Captain’s Ready Room. Most focused on the task they had at hand.

In the elevator Tom’s hand found Harry’s. 

“So, now that we have the Captain’s blessing and everything...how about that pizza?”

#star trek: voyager #harry kim x tom paris #kimris #writersmonth2020 #what's the shipname guys I'm not sure #what do the cool kids call it

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 08

Read Along on AO3 Here

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This time: A conversation in Sy Bisti. Thrawn gives Ezra good news.

Next Time: Vah’nya pulls Ezra aside. Ivant gives Ezra some tips on fighting the Grysk.

-/

Shock was a common occurrence among soldiers. Thrawn had seen it in many theatres: space battles with pale faced new ensigns, undercover missions seasoned veterans never fully returned from, ground troops executing an enemy for the first time. Soldiers he could relate to, Chiss or otherwise. Was his presence preferable or soothing? Unlikely. But he knew how to intervene.

Ezra Bridger might be a Jedi, but he was a soldier, too. He'd come of age within the Rebellion's militia-like structure. He adapted well, and Thrawn had not forgotten that he'd infiltrated an Imperial Military Academy, either. Thrawn could deal with talking down soldiers far better than he could deal with Navigators. The question was whether or not his subconscious would register Thrawn as an enemy due to their history.

In Basic, which Thrawn had not spoken for weeks in the other man's presence, he asked, "Is Navigator Un'hee's presence helping or hurting?"

Un'hee shot him a dirty look. He ignored it.

Sitting in the middle of the couch, Ezra's dazed expression didn't change. He licked his lips, swallowed, but no words came.

"Navigator," Thrawn intoned, not gently but hardly rude. "I ask that you leave us."

"I don't want to leave him alone like this." She reached for one of Ezra's hands, and the young man twitched, clenched tightly to his knees.

"I will stay with him," Thrawn said. "I fear your Sight is hurting more than helping."

"I'm being careful," Un'hee argued. "I know how he feels and you know it."

"He also knows how you feel, Navigator Un'hee," The glow of Thrawn's eyes were muted, indicative of his attempt to remain calm, and inspire it in her, too.

"Ivant said he was coming to talk to him," She said, pushing herself up from the cushion to Ezra's left. "After he finished with Admiral Ar'alani."

"I will be sure to expect him, then," Thrawn replied, derailing Un'hee's hope that the threat of Eli Vanto in close quarters would allow her to stay. "Please, Navigator."

Thrawn was not naturally impolite, in fact it was the opposite. But he retained a firm grasp of order, and did not often ask. Un'hee sighed. "If I can help…" She trailed off.

"I will send you a message."

The girl doubted she would receive anything, but still obeyed his request. When the door shut behind her, Thrawn rose. Ezra's eyes followed him without seeing. "I suspect you feel cold," He said. "I will return with a blanket."

The aftermath of a battle tended to hit far harder than the battle itself. The subconscious caught up to the conscious mind, the cocktail of chemicals produced by the neural system of the body dissipated. Thrawn procured two blankets instead of one, taking the top layer of bedding from each of their bunks. Ezra was normally cold.

He considered his datapad for a moment. Then, considering for a moment her surprise, Thrawn balanced it on his lap to send a message to Un'hee.

-/

The door to the suite opened slowly, drawing Thrawn's gaze. The brighter light that spilled in from the hallway was eclipsed by a shadow far larger than that of Un'hee, who he’d been expecting. It had only been a few moments since her confirmation message came through that she’d return with something warm for Ezra to drink, likely caf. Thrawn listened to the first, heavier footfall and was on his feet in a second. Ezra turned his head warily, jolted by the quick motion of the man beside them.

"Captain Ivant," Thrawn greeted, voice hollow. Beside him, Ezra blinked, and attempted to rise, swaying in place. The Commander prepared to keep him down with a hand, but the Captain spoke first.

"At ease," Ivant said in Basic. Despite the darkness in the room, he made no effort to turn up the lights via the touch panel. He smiled at Ezra, much like he so frequently smiled at the younger Navigators, and the young man seemed to sink back down into the cushion. Then, the human’s gaze canted up, meeting Thrawn's. The smile wasn't entirely gone. "Please," He said, directing that familiar drawl and those warm brown eyes at the Chiss.

For a moment, Thrawn could almost pretend there was no bad blood, no uncomfortable tension between them. Then he blinked, and logic won out. "As you wish," Thrawn said tightly. Something in him coiled, making him feel uneasy.

There were three mugs between his two gloved hands. He placed the first before Ezra. Caf, Thrawn realized. Ezra looked down at it slowly, then back up. Ivant tilted his head. "It's way too hot to drink now," He said kindly, hardly expecting Ezra to take it. "Let it cool a while."

The young Jedi’s eyes were hazy and dark, unfocused, but he nodded slightly before a tremor ran down his spine. Ivant didn’t press him on it, nor did he comment when Ezra pulled the blankets wrapped around him closer. Thrawn watched his charge with an appraising eye. Bridger was a special case. He had very little parenting or security in his upbringing. It made people protective of him.

Ezra Bridger also had a big heart and a desire to help. Thrawn clearly felt somewhat indebted to him. Ivant separated the remaining mugs, balanced precariously in the crook of an arm pressed against his side and in his non-dominant hand. Eli moved that one to the dominant hand as to prevent spillage of the last one and held it out to Thrawn.

He eyed it warily, lips thinning. “You did not need to-”

“I did,” Vanto interrupted. His eyebrows went up as he silently appraised the Chiss. “You think he’d talk to me like this without you present?”

Something about that made the discomforting sensation in Thrawn’s core burn. Still, he kept his voice without inflection, true neutral. “He would do as ordered, Captain. As would I.”

Thrawn took the mug and sat. Ivant stepped back, leaning casually against the opposite wall.

It was true. Thrawn is on thin ice, as the humans say. It is an appropriate expression, considering his home world. Thrawn has been on thin ice for a long, long time. Ivant studied him with his brown eyes, pupils dilated to allow him to see as much as possible in the dark. He did feel any embarrassment, there was no heat in his neck, or cheeks, or ears. He was dark in the spectrum that Thrawn could see with his superior biology. He felt lightyears away instead of just outside arms’ reach.

“If I make you that uncomfortable,” The human finally said, his voice lilting with the accent, soft and round, but just as firm, “I’ll leave. The kid can message me when he’s up for talking.”

Thrawn rose sharply, eyes flashing in momentary outrage. Ivant did not back down, stepping forward as well. He held his mug of tea between both hands. “I do not understand,” Thrawn said. He spoke again, but this time in Sy Bisti. Tension made itself known in his forehead. “I do not understand where I stand with you.”

Ivant looked into his mug as though it would hold some secret answer. Then, he lifted his head. He answered in the language he’d been spoken to. “I am your Captain.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

The beginnings of a smile passed through his face, smoothed out before it ever became anything more than a quirk of his lips. Mirth. “We are not the same beings we were at the start of all this,” Vanto said. “We have both had to make difficult decisions.”

“I am not proud of what I did, not all of it.”

From where they stood, Vanto looking up at him, Thrawn saw his eyes in totality and unobscured: a deep brown, like Corellian cinnamon and tang bark. He no longer held himself like his lack of height was a disadvantage. His chest was pushed out enough to be open, his stance comfortable but lacking arrogance. He did not yield, his stance did not relent, but something in his eyes eased.

“I know, Thrawn.”

Neither of them looked away. An impossible urge crossed through the Chiss’s logical rationale. A desire to reach for the man in front of him. A desire to make a connection. Thrawn wrapped his unoccupied hand around the warm mug of tea, threading his fingers together lest he be struck by yet another irrational proclivity.

Vanto tilted his head. Thrawn saw the lines beneath his eyes, the way the outer corners of them crinkled when half-smiled, bittersweetly. He wanted to dissect each and every micromovement, each like a brushstroke on an evolving canvas. He wanted to ask questions and analyze Vanto's responses, wanted to sit here and drink tea and pretend this was something it wasn't. That it was fine. That they were something more than allies. That-

The Captain's comm chimed on his belt and the shrill beep in the otherwise silent room made Ezra jerk, the mug of caf sloshing when he kicked the table. It brought the young Jedi back to himself, and with an easy wave of his hand he saved the mug before it went crashing to the floor.

The moment, whatever it had been, whatever it might have been trying to be, was broken.

“Ivant,” Vanto said, pulling the device around him.

“I need you aboard the Strikefast in twenty minutes,” Ar’alani said.

“Make it forty. I’m with the Jedi.”

She tutted, not thrilled about the suggestion. “How does he fare?”

The edge in Vanto’s tone was icy. His Cheunh was flawless, Thrawn realized not for the first time. It sounded like he’d been speaking it for his entire life, not three years, give or take. “Not well. Care to explain to me why I’m debating sending him to medical?”

“Recall your first encounter, Captain,” Ar’alani didn’t sound remotely concerned. “He will be fine.”

“Yeah,” Ivant rolled his eyes, half amused as he recalled wryly, “I remember. I don’t think you let me rinse my mouth out before you debriefed me.”

“I was prepared to do so in that tiny refresher in your quarters,” The Admiral’s voice hid a sardonic sense of humor between her words. “You may have thirty minutes. If you are not in my office within the hour-”

“I’ll be there. Ivant out.” He switched the comm off and turned to the Jedi. He gave a tentative smile, trying to shake off his funk. It would be a few days before he’d be back to normal, but he’d be alright, Ivant knew. Thrawn had dealt with this before. He knew what to do, and he wasn’t Ezra’s only resource aboard the Compass.

Ezra coughed nervously. “Did she really?” He asked slowly, testing each word on his tongue.

“Yes,” Ivant gave him a gentle smirk, a little wry. “I’m better for it. But that’s not what you need. We’re going to talk about it. Your reaction isn’t entirely uncommon.”

“I’ve never,” Ezra looked down at his hands, sucking a drip of caf off his finger. “I think I’d rather face Vader.”

Thrawn’s head swivelled around fast, his response terse. “You jest.”

Ezra did not. “At least I can understand Vader’s motives. They-”

Vanto interrupted their bickering. He had a schedule to keep, “There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil. A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them.” Thrawn exhaled sharply, drawing the Captain’s gaze. “He seeks only to destroy them.”

“Eli-”

Ivant’s eyes narrowed, and the serious dark look was back. He addressed Ezra, “Starting tomorrow, you will meet me in the training facilities on the second level two hours before first shift. I will teach you how to fight a Grysk.” He considered Thrawn. That slightest bit of warmth in his eyes was gone, like their former discussion hadn't happened at all. “You are welcome to join us, if your duties allow.”

Thrawn frowned, eyes curiously blank, even for him. Ezra still hadn’t moved from the huddle of the two blankets wrapped around him. He wasn’t shaking anymore, but he still felt shaky and on-edge as he rose. “Yes, Captain,” Ezra said. His voice wasn’t as wobbly as he’d expected.

The Chiss swallowed, then nodded. He did not speak. It earned him a curious, concerned look from Ezra. But Ivant didn't comment on it, didn't rebuke him or draw attention to it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay and speak with you longer," Ivant said in Ezra's direction, but something about that seemed off to him. His voice didn't have that quality to it - like speaking to a student, that parental, teaching tone he used with Ezra and the Navigators. Ezra suspected he was speaking to Thrawn.

But it didn't matter. Ivant was gone in seconds, twelve steps in a purposeful stride, the door hissing shut behind him.

Thrawn lowered himself back onto the cushion beside Ezra. They sipped at their drinks in silence until there were only dregs left, and they'd long since gone cold.

"While you were gone," The Chiss began, "Vah'nya allowed me to see an old colleague I served with in the Empire." He still cradled the mug between his hands, as if not sure what to do with them otherwise. "She defected," He clarified carefully. "She did not go to the Rebellion, though she brought news of the Emperor's product, Stardust."

Ezra turned to look at him. "Do I want to know?" He asked.

"I wouldn't tell you now if I thought it would make things worse," Thrawn reasoned. "But I would tell you. You deserve to know."

Nodding, Ezra looked down at his hands, tangled together while his forearms rested on his knees. "They won?"

"They did. I inquired about your friends, but there was not much information. They did not play a large role in the battle."

"Thanks for trying," Ezra's words were weighted with gratitude. "Seriously," He said, as though Thrawn might not have noticed the first time around. The Chiss had. He simply hadn't finished speaking.

"I was given the impression that the Captain would give you more details. However, I did learn why General Syndulla was not more involved, if you wish-"

"Of course I do!" Ezra turned on the cushion, facing Thrawn's right side. He no longer trembled from his earlier experience, his body tense with anticipation. "Anything," He said desperately.

"She was with child," Thrawn said. "A son."

Ezra flopped back against the couch, staring up at the unimpressive ceiling, tinged gray in the dark. For a moment, he layed in the strange, awkward position he'd thrown himself back in on the remaining free cushions. His breaths came soft but smooth. Deep, and centering.

Thrawn almost wondered if the Jedi had fallen asleep. He'd certainly come upon the young man sleeping in creative and very uncomfortable situations.

"Thank you," Ezra said. "For telling me. And for asking."

"You are welcome," Thrawn said. Then, "Jarrus was the father?"

Ezra propped himself up in his elbows, looking at the side of Thrawn's face. "They were best friends. Partners, in and out of battle," He said as if trying to craft a relatable expression for the Chiss, then added, "They loved each other."

Thrawn turned to look at Ezra, not entirely sure what to say. He was no stranger to the concept of love. It was not far from certain aspects of loyalty, dedication, or devotion. Though he doubted very much that he'd felt it, even in his youth, something in the Commander's gut burned at the unspoken implication in Ezra's words. He thought of Eli Vanto’s cool-dark gaze looking up at him, of I know, Thrawn, of the way he held himself like a man who finally started to understand what he was worth.

He never did get an answer to his question.

#Thranto #Eli Vanto #Mitth'raw'nuruodo #Un'hee #Eli Vanto/Thrawn #SW Fanfiction #My Writing #Star Wars

[korora12]

Ladybug Week Day 8 - Free Day

Day 7

Word Count: 2381

Narrow-beam transmission from the direction of the Draconis system, picked up by a receiver on Patch, the only moon of the planet Vale. Transcription as follows:

I went to a funeral today. I’ve been to funerals before, of course; Grandma’s was the most recent. But this one was different. Have you ever been to the funeral of a man you killed?

His name was Adam. I’ll save the full story of how we met him for another time, but I can give you a quick summary. In brief, we took a job from a biologist named Doctor Merlot, things got weird, Weiss and I rode a dinosaur into battle, Blake’s ex-boyfriend showed up, attacked us, and then died. I don’t know the full story of what happened between the two of them. I might never know, and I think I’m okay with that. There’s comfort in knowing someone so well that you can predict what they’ll do before they do it. A solidarity that comes with knowing someone else sees the same world you do, even if you have to borrow their eyes to see it. But the danger of knowing everything about someone is that they can no longer surprise you. Blake has an air of mystery about her, and I’ll be happy if that never goes away. It’s one of her more attractive features.

Whatever mysterious past the two shared that culminated in deadly violence, Blake still felt some connection to him. Enough that she didn’t want to leave him out to the elements. Or maybe she just didn’t want his face to see the stars anymore. Either way, we buried him ourselves. She didn’t speak the entire time we worked, nor did she glance back at his body even once. I didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts, so we dug in silence. It wasn’t until the hole was filled again, slightly fuller than before, that she found her words.

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that FAUNIS are unfeeling machines, because I’ve held their emotions in my arms and cleaned them from their face. Their emotions are just as wet, messy, and wild as ours.

Blake seemed better after that. There was a party later that evening; we’d saved an entire town at some point during that mess, so they made us guests of honor at their celebration. Blake smiled during the night, and even let me dance with her a bit! There was a huge bonfire in the center of town and the townspeople were playing instruments and singing. After a few drinks I swept her into my arms and we danced around the fire. She laughed the whole time! It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard and, lit by firelight, she was the most beautiful thing in all the universe. A thought hit me as we twirled away: I could do this forever.

I almost tripped as soon as I realized what I’d just thought. Is that what my counterpart, the queen in that other universe, felt when she danced on her wedding night?

I’m sitting in Crescent Rose’s cockpit now. Everyone else has gone off to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come talk to you. Maybe I can work through some of the thoughts these last few days have brought.

The universe is huge and empty. You really get a feel for how big it is when you’re out here. We took a job last month to escort a survey ship to one of the nearest stars; it was uneventful, but I’m sure I mentioned it to you in passing. We warped space around us until we were falling through the void too fast for light to keep up, and even then it took weeks round-trip. Lightyears of empty space broken only by a brief flash of starlight up close.

It was a stroke of luck that humans and qedem first found each other, and their later discovery of the materia was just as unlikely. We found each other’s radio transmissions and honed in on each other like missiles. But we didn’t fight each other; we were too happy to have found someone else, too afraid to risk facing the boogeyman of the unknown alone. Solidarity in familiarity.

Since then we’ve colonized over a hundred systems and surveyed and explored thousands more, yet we haven’t found anyone else. We don’t even use radio waves much anymore, so our odds of finding anyone may have actually gone down. In order to get a fourth intelligent species, we had to make them from scratch.

And then there’s the grimm. Monsters whose only goal is destruction, not unthinking but also not able to be negotiated with. I don’t need to explain the grimm to you; you know them better than most. Some people say that grimm are proof that the universe is actively hostile and doesn’t want us in it. That it sees life, or at least intelligent life, as something that warrants stamping out.

I don’t think that’s true.

There’s another theory out there, less common since we found the grimm but one that still gets bandied about. It says that intelligent life is the universe’s way of understanding itself. It’s a pretty notion that posits some special place in existence for us few, special things whose atoms aligned in just such a way. Those who hold this belief, like their more pessimistic counterparts, also believe that the universe has some sense or intelligence and has noticed our existence.

I killed a man today, watched up close as life left his eyes. Then, a few hours later, I danced and laughed and realized the depths of my love for a woman. And I don’t think the universe cared about either of those things. There is no higher power watching us and judging how we live our lives, but conversely, there’s no one who cares if we die. We could keep on going.

I could do this forever, and the universe wouldn’t care.

It’s been said before that nothing matters. But it’s also been said that it doesn’t matter that nothing matters. You don’t need some great, overarching meaning to live your life.

When I first met Blake, she asked me why I wanted to make a life in the middle of nowhere. I told her I wanted to be a hero and she latched on to that part. And it’s true, I do want to be a hero. Not because I think it’s inherently the right thing to do; I don’t believe that there’s some absolute value of justice or goodness baked into the fabric of reality. I just want to live in a world where heroes exist. I want to live in a world where people help each other not because they have to, but because they can. And the only way I know of to make that world is to play my part and live by example.

I also told Blake that I was out here to have fun. I think Yang, thrill-seeker that she is, understands that reason better than Blake. Happiness, pleasure, love, joy, these things aren’t any more meaningful than anything else. But I prefer them to the alternative. A life spent buried in good books, surrounded by friends, and elbow-deep in the guts of a ship engine, trying to figure out why it won’t work this month is just as valid of a lifestyle as someone who spends every waking moment fighting for the rights of people he’ll never meet, even if he uses violent methods and intends to benefit himself more than the ones he helps. However, that equality in validity doesn’t mean I have to take his actions lying down.

Nihilism isn’t an excuse to be an asshole. We wouldn’t have made it where we are today without empathy and cooperation. Without that we’d still live in a world where the stars were out of reach, and I don’t want to be stuck like that. I want to run the length of the universe and see every speck of light it holds.

I will fight for the world I want to live in, and it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t matter. Because I am here. Not in spite of the universe, and not because of it either. I just am.

I wish you were here too, mom.

…

Do me a favor? Don’t tell dad anything I just said. I don’t want him to worry about me. Oh! We’ve decided to pay a visit to civilized space, so we’ll be stopping by when we hit Vale. I look forward to seeing you and dad again soon, and introducing you to Blake in person.

Until then, this is Ruby Rose, captain of the Crescent Rose, signing off.

I love you.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

CGT transmission, pre-recorded video sent from node 72.97457.4452.4698 in the Draconis system to node 55.13896.3481.7774 in the Menagerie system. Transcription as follows:

Hi mom, hi dad.

I know. I haven’t talked to you in years, and now, when I finally reach out, I send a video instead of calling. I’m sorry.

I wanted to let you know that I’m doing alright. I left the White Fang. Actually, I haven’t been with them for a couple years now. After I cut ties I went and got a decent job on Vale that paid for food and an apartment. I made friends and started making a home for myself.

Then I threw all of that away for a woman I’d only just met.

God, you should meet her. She’s amazing. She’s smart, strong, cute, funny, heroic; basically everything I wanted Adam to be, way back when.

You were right about him, by the way. Of course you were. You don’t have to worry about him anymore, though. No one will have to worry about him ever again.

Anyway, the woman. Her name is Ruby Rose and she’s human. When I first met her, she offered me the opportunity to live in a tiny room on a small ship, where I could enjoy an inconsistent workload that occasionally involved fighting for my life against hordes of grimm. For some reason, I said yes, and it might’ve been the best thing I’ve ever done with my life.

I’ve since upgraded to sharing the captain’s room with her. Actually, we knocked down the wall between our rooms to make one big room, but same effect.

Life isn’t perfect, but I’m happy now. I haven’t been happy in a long time. I was angry for so long, and then I was mostly scared. I thought I didn’t know how to be happy anymore, but it’s so easy here. I woke up this morning and Ruby was laying there next to me, curled in a ball and snoring, and it was the most perfect thing ever. If I could wake up every day and have her face be the first thing I saw, I think that’d be enough.

…

Oh god, I can’t believe I just said that.

I’ve been living only in the present for years, but now I’m starting to think about the future again, and every picture in my head has her in it. I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. There’s a part of me I lost, carved out bit by bit by a hundred different hands, that I’ve managed to find again. She’s given me some of her hope, to fill in the gap where mine used to be.

When I was young, I used to believe in a higher power and concepts like right and wrong. I thought that there was some cosmic scale to be balanced, and if we just did enough good things, the universe would tip in our favor and everything would be okay. But everything I’ve seen since leaving Menagerie suggests otherwise. You can fill your life with one good deed after another, and you’re never guaranteed to get good things in return. So after a while, I stopped expecting good things to happen to me. It seemed like all the cruelties I faced, whether from strangers or from people I trusted, were just an inevitable and unavoidable part of life.

I kept trying to help people anyway. It wasn’t until the White Fang started going too far, hurting the people we were supposed to be helping and hurting strangers as collateral damage, that I realized I couldn’t keep considering myself a good person if I stayed with them. I was lost for a while, not sure where to go or what to do, and then Ruby was there, like a life preserver in a storm.

When I’m with her, it’s easier to believe that things might be okay someday. It might not ever be perfect. Maybe we can only ever trade one inequality for another. Maybe society can’t function without someone on top, and someone else crushed beneath their heel. Maybe no one deserves more than they can fight for and grasp with their own two hands. But that doesn’t mean you don’t try to make things better. There is value in the effort. Perfection isn’t a goal but a direction you choose to march in, and what’s important is that you keep marching.

I can carve out a place for myself where I can be okay, and then I can use what energy is left to help others carve their own place. I don’t have to fix the world, I just have to try. I just have to be okay. And I think, someday soon, I will be.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop all that on you like that. I just wanted you to know that I’m in a good place right now. I may not be changing the world out here, but I’m helping. There are people who would be less happy and less healthy if I hadn’t come out here. I’d like to tell you all about them some day.

We’re going to be taking a break soon, heading back into better-charted space. If it’s okay with you, I was hoping to pay you a visit. You could meet my crewmates and I could see what you’ve done with Kuo Kuana since I left.

I love you guys. Hope to hear from you soon.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

*dies*

That is, by my count, a total of 31,413 words written in a single month, or about 1000 words per day. Dear god am I exhausted. This was the largest single writing project I’ve ever completed, and I’m really glad to know that I can do it. That being said, I very much plan on cutting back my daily word count following this.

Ladybug week may be over, but I don’t plan on giving up on this AU. I do, however, want to take a break. I’ve got some work to do in the background, worldbuilding and what-not, as well as other projects I’d like to work on. If we can get an @freezerburn-week going again this year, I’d love to revisit this world then. I really didn’t do enough with Weiss and Yang in these bits, and I’ve got ideas for freezerburn content meandering about my skull.

Regardless, if I’ve sparked your interest, keep an eye out for more of The Last Frontier here, or on my FF or AO3 accounts.

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #ladybug #ladybug rwby #ladybug (rwby) #ladybugweek #fanfiction #my writing #The Last Frontier #space au #Ladybugweek2K19

[thezfc]

OK- I decided to combine all the anons I have about Fiona/Zhora/Stalkers because it’s ALOT.

Anonymous said: Ok, I must vent. It chuffs my ass to no end to see these bitches brag about how this is their 3rd time meeting Tom at stage door! They're taking up space in line when someone who has never had the chance to meet him but wants to yet doesn't get that chance. Meanwhile they think the more he sees them he's going to magically fall in love with them. They're so fucking selfish. You've met him. Get over yourselves and let others have the same chance. 😠 Btw, before you say anything, I live in (pt1) (pt2) states and have no chance of seeing the play or meeting him. And I'm fine with that. It just really pisses me off to see these immature bitches act so selfishly. News flash: He's NOT going to fall for you so get on with your lives! Thanks for letting me vent. Anonymous said: To anon saying you should have Fiona on your podcast. No, don't be dumb. The problem with you guys is you're so fixated on your hatred of Zhora that you'll ally with anyone she argues with... But those people are just as bad as her. It's not a win to have a creep on your podcast just because she hates Zhora. That's hypocritical.

Anonymous said: Lmao someone asked Fiona if Tom knew she rented Airbnbs near his house and so on and she didn't answer, just got all sanctimonious again 🙄🙄🙄 What's your opinion on Fiona then, Zero? You seem to have a very wishy washy opinion on the issue. Half the time you scream stalker at anyone you hate, then you downplay it or suggest others do the same when you like them? Anonymous said: Actually the legal definition of stalking in the UK includes "loitering (in any public or private place" as one of the potential factors. There's a lot of wording about how many factors have to be present to bring a case of stalking to the police, but these fans tick one or two behaviours that *can* go hand in hand with stalking. Loitering in a public place... Near his house... If Tom really wanted to I bet he could bring a case against one or two fans, and threaten a few others.

Anonymous said: Also lmao at FR coming on here to whine about Zhora. Honey, Zhora DID talk to you about this, more than once. And you and your pack of dogs hounded her off Tumblr last time she called out your hypocrisy. Zero, I know you hate Zhora but she was right on the money about Fiona. Fiona's a hypocritical creep. She grandstanded about Grace when she's exactly the same, maybe even worse. Plus, hon, not everyone who talks about you is Zhora. You brag about this shit all over your various SM handles.

Anonymous said: I don't think Tom's "bothered" by the stalker fans, but I think he's not aware that FR also stays in his area on "holiday" and so on. That might change his outlook somewhat? But still, even if he doesn't feel threatened by it, he knows what they're doing and why. It's not like he thinks they're really cool and should be his BFF (or sex partner like they dream of). Plus him not being outwardly bothered doesn't mean its okay!!!! It's still fucked up. Anonymous said: Talking about stalkers, two french girls keep "bumping" on Tom. One even left france for months to live there and the other met him multiples times same for cumberbatch and a few others actors. Anonymous said: Diff perspective on 'stalker' fans-I have a few degree separation w/intl famous band & spouse & friends involved w/fan fundraisers/events worked w/mngmt etc. Had issues w/some stalker fans & I got irritated cuz seemed like they got 'special' treatment from band but had VERY revealing convo w/mngmt & security once on how they were all VERY aware & it was more a case of "keeping them close to keep an eye on them". So just cuz TH is smiling doesn't mean he's cool with everything (+ he's an ACTOR!) rllca submitted: “as long as the frequent flyers stay reasonable”…..but middle-aged women spending that much money and seeing his play so many times is totally UNreasonable. He must think they’re nuts! tomhiddlestonangel said: Keep holding up the mirror to these crazy stalkers. There is nothing more terrifying than having a reflection you don’t recognise. Denial is one of human natures worst enemies. Their just a bunch of Buzz Lightyears waiting for their epiphany 💡 Keep going Z, if nothing else their reactions are hilarious 🤣 Anonymous said: Here’s some piping hot tea for you: Zhora Salome is old enough to know better than to behave like a goddamn child. Why do the rules she set up not apply to her? I hope someone makes her take a long walk off a short cliff.

Anonymous said: “Photographic evidence” First of all, he’s an actor. He’s spent years acting excited to see the same people over and over again. Second ... have you looked at the body language in those pictures? He’s entirely angled away from them, the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he looks like he wants to sprint into the night.

Anonymous said:

If instead of paying ten grand to see him now why not invest it in something worthwhile, wait five years when his career isn't what it is now, then take it out and have a few more dollars to see him at a convention or in his latest theater project?

rllca said:

$10 000 for a few minutes of small talk, then you go on your way. He doesn't give a shit about you.

Anonymous said:

Tom is probably really flattered that these fans spend so much money going to see his play multiple times, who wouldn't be. He seems to enjoy interacting with fans at work e.g. stage door etc. I think if he realised she was staying so close to his house that she can see in to his courtyard he would probably not be so happy.

Anonymous said:

Congrats Fiona, when's the wedding?

Anonymous said:

www.instagram.com/p/ByJU1b_F1jb/?igshid=1xkp9nn1bqujk Ugh. She keeps conveniently skirting over the fact that he probably doesn't know she lurks around by his house every time she's in London. I remember her and Saney being bitches about Grace, when isn't Fiona exactly the same? It doesn't matter if Tom looks happy to see her, the FACT is, she shouldn't be lurking around his neighborhood like a creep. Stick to stage door, ffs.

------------------------------------------------

To the third anon down asking me about my opinion- I feel like you are probably the same person who called her out on her blog.  I don’t know Fiona- she messaged me just this last week to tell me about the Omaze thing- probably to get ahead of it and I have been honest with her that I have been very vocal about my thoughts around this obsessive fan girl behavior and her reply was actually pretty reasonable- she wasn’t a bitch about it and didn’t try to change my mind.  But I have received more information from other blogs and anons with receipts that she is lying that she’s never stayed near his house and she in fact has very recently. I don’t like the lying- admit it or else you KNOW it’s wrong. 

EIther way- I don’t have to shit talk every single one of these frequent fliers, I don’t want my blog to become just a place to bitch about them- there are SO MANY that it’s too much to keep track of, and I’m sure there are plenty more who don’t post on open social media accounts who have been there a zillion times- I know of plenty that I’ve said nothing about. I said my peace on my blog and podcast and this Omaze raffle was it’s own whole drama.

In conclusion- I will be very happy when this play is over and this issue stops being drama and everyone can stop treating him like a zoo attraction. I”m sure the anon is right that the frequent fliers will be all of over the place this week getting their last fix. 

#th fandom fuckery

[blodreina-noumou]

I had fun with 6x02. It was angsty “why can’t our kids just get along” fun, but still fun!

The Big Things I’d be down to discuss:

1 - We got tiny little crumbs about Alpha/Sanctum itself, the people who live there, and how/why they’ve lived on this moon for the past century or so. The backstory with the very obvious Bellarke stand-in (that had to either be the best or worst little nod ever for shippers), including the sudden and unexpectedly violent death of Sanctum Clarke (I know she has a name I just forgot), shows us that the people of this world have been dealing with the eclipse psychosis for a long time, which definitely explains the kids’ books and general “this is a thing that happens sometimes” attitude of the people we’ve met. The mother, father, and daughter of that group are the Lightbournes (no idea how to spell that yet), who are seemingly worshiped in this world. How did that happen, when Daddy Lightbourne went nuts and murdered his wife and daughter? Jumping to the present, one of the lines between the older hijacker woman and her dying daughter - “the bodies, you have to make sure -” “I’ll take care of it” - definitely makes me think that there’s something about death/corpses on this planet that we don’t know yet. (Which makes me think of poor Shaw, quickly buried in that grave by that random field.) Both women seemed very concerned with recovering the bodies of their husbands, beyond the usual “respecting our dead” worries. And finally, that ending. The little girl, Rose, seemed to be dressed a bit more “royally” for lack of a better word, than the other children. Maybe it was just a design choice to make her stand out - if she’s got a name, she’s gonna be important. She had those “wise young leader” vibes though. The most interesting thing - her asking Clarke if they’re there to “take them home” and Clarke responding “isn’t this your home?” Sanctum believes they’re going to be rescued, I think we can safely guess that this is a big part of what makes them culty. So what are they going to do now that they know a rescue is impossible, because Earth is dead? Why do they still want to go home - to reconnect with a world an indeterminate number of lightyears away, where none of them were born? Why? Is it something about Sanctum that makes them long to return - something more than just the Eclipse Psychosis?

2. My favorite interactions were between Murphy and Clarke. I think something significant happened between them when Murphy finds Clarke holding that knife to her own throat. I think Murphy has a moment of realizing, “oh, maybe Clarke hasn’t let go of her baggage, maybe she carries more guilt and self-loathing than she shows us.” He gentles a lot as he talks her down, tells her that the radio she’s hearing all of those terrible things from isn’t even on. I do think they have a better understanding of each other now, and will probably snipe at each other less. Probably. Maybe. I appreciated Murphy telling Clarke that her taking some responsibility for being “the bad guy” was “a good start.” I do think Clarke needs to make serious strides towards apologizing properly, and she came closer than she had before to doing that in the argument she and Murphy had while they were locked up in the school. She was passive aggressive, but I think part of that is her frustration that anyone would think she doesn’t regret the things she’s done. She’s lost so many people who are important to her, and, given what Delusion!Abby said, Clarke also clearly blames herself for all of it. I think part of why she can’t apologize to anyone is because it’s hard for her to live with herself without justifying the why of those lives lost. She has to remember what she did it for, who she did it for, or she’ll lose it completely and surrender to her darkest, self-destructive impulses. This episode helped me with Clarke a bit, I’ll admit it. I hope this isn’t the only thing we’ll get, but I’m not holding my breath.

3. The different reactions everyone has to the psychosis is worth a hundred metas and at least twenty crack posts. I wanted to make a “tag yourself” meme about what everyone does (Echo “nopes” herself right out; Emori flips and attacks her “it’s complicated” lover; Bellamy becomes an Angry Rage Dad; Jackson and Miller try to protect each other to death; Clarke just hates herself (I don’t even have a good joke for it, it was honestly pretty sad); and Murphy would just be “????”; a bonus would be Octavia, who managed to behave as if she was under the Eclipse Psychosis, but it turns out our girl is just Losing It For Real Now, No But Like For REAL For Real - but I’m not good at the image-making thing, so anyone who sees this is free to steal the idea and adapt it to their own interpretations (just lmk ‘cause I wanna see it)!

4. Was Murphy affected? By the time Emori, Jackson, Miller, and Echo are all down for the count, Murphy becomes the voice of reason for Clarke and Bellamy. He has to protect himself, and them, from themselves and each other, and he does so in a very level-headed way. He isn’t shaking off the delusions like Clarke does when Murphy and Bellamy are fighting. He isn’t raging and ranting like Bellamy is. His craziest moments come from believing that he’s the only sane one left. Yet he shoots at Bellamy and Clarke, and clearly seems paranoid that they’re out to get him at certain moments. So what gives? Which parts were potentially Eclipse Psychosis, and which parts were just Murphy? I’m inclined to believe his needling of Clarke is 100% Him - given how he stomps off from their little fireside chat in 6x01 (that smile was sarcastic af y’all, not him really being like “you win”, he was pissed), I don’t think he’s able to hold himself back from speaking his mind to Clarke about her decisions, once they’re both tied up and stuck in the same room together. So when he shoots at Clarke and Bellamy, do we think he’s trying to protect them from themselves, or does he genuinely want to hurt them? So much to analyze. 

5. Speaking of Octavia, I am both elated and devastated to see that Niylah is pretty much her only friend right now - it makes my Niytavia heart happy, but it’s rough to see Octavia struggling so much, and being so alone in it. It’s clear Niylah is so scared for Octavia, and might be the only one who really sees how much she’s hurting. She’s the only one who recognizes that Octavia is egging everyone on, trying to get them to fight her, probably even kill her. Octavia is lashing out so much right now, and it’s definitely not a good look. I think it’s the only thing that makes sense for her character right now. She lost everything - all of the honor and respect and (yes) power she had, all of the hope she had for finding redemption in Eden, all of her closest friends and supporters (with the exception of Niylah - also, side note, I hope we see Indra and Gaia soon), and her brother. She’s never been good at actually reflecting on her mistakes. Now that she feels she has pretty much nothing to lose, of course she’s going to lash out and act like an angry kid throwing a tantrum, baiting people into punishing her. She wanted to die in that gorge - she believes she deserves it. Now, in her own words, “none of it makes sense”. I don’t know how much darker and angrier she’ll have to go before she finally confronts Blodreina, and all of the reasons she had to become her. She has to accept what she did, and forgive herself, before anyone else will.

6. What will the fallout from the Bellamy/Murphy fight be? Everyone was throwing out some sharp barbs, but Bellamy’s comment about Murphy being a court jester, and how that was “barely” better than useless was a low blow. It’s also a long way from the premiere last year, with Bellamy pinning Murphy and refuses to let him up until Murphy says he isn’t worthless. Will they brush by it as Eclipse Angst, or is this indicative of bigger problems between Murphy and Bellamy down the line this season? Bellamy definitely wakes up looking hella guilty about how close he came to killing both Clarke and Murphy. Does he really feel that way about Murphy, does he see him as an equivalent threat compared to Clarke? Why, and how?? Not to beat a dead horse, but Clarke has been pretty traitorous lately and has been much more dangerous to trust than Murphy has, for Bellamy for sure. Clarke’s own self-destructive thoughts seemed to be the genuine truth, what she believed about herself. Who’s to say we can’t assume Bellamy was being equally genuine about Murphy?

7. What’s going on with Murphy at the end there? Before he went into the water, he was mostly okay. After he comes out and passes out for a while, he’s suddenly near-death, with crazy black shit visibly running through his veins? I’ll admit I’m a little scared for him! I’m sure he’ll probably be fine, but the source is what unsettles me - the biggest difference between the three of them by that ...pond? puddle?... is that Murphy went under and inhaled a lot of water. Is even the water toxic when the eclipse is going on? That’s going to mean that the Sanctum people, who clearly have some safe place to go to during the eclipses, will have a lot of power over the safety of everyone on the planet, even more than we originally suspected. So our traumatized heroes are going to have to adapt and assimilate to this new society, and we really have no idea what that’s going to look like yet. We’ve already gotten some hints that it’s weird and culty though, and culty things have never boded well for our characters. Has it been mentioned how often these eclipses are? I don’t think so. We know they last two days, but not how often they happen. We also don’t know much else about the dangers in the world, and what life is like for other parts of the moon’s surface.

8. The parallels between Clarke and Octavia so far this season are delightful and frustrating. They both have so much in common, and it’s interesting to see the different and similar ways they’re reacting to the terrible things they were forced (and chose, at times) to do as young, inexperienced leaders. They both don’t think they deserve to be alive. They both have tried to hurt or kill themselves because of that. What frustrates me a bit about 6x02 is that it feels like a reversal from the way we saw Octavia at the end of 5x13. Octavia seemed ready to accept responsibility in that gorge “Wonkru is dead. I broke it.” and Clarke seemed more willing to stand by her convictions as a Mama Bear. Now Clarke is slowly starting to accept some accountability, and Octavia is calling out everyone for their “sins”. But I think on some level, they’re both motivated by the same self-destructive self-loathing. Both Clarke and Octavia attempted to sacrifice themselves (Clarke at the end of s4, Octavia at the end of s5) for the sake of their people, and also in an attempt to make up for how fall they’d each fallen from their own moral centers - they both wanted redemption and absolution for the terrible things they’d do to other people for the sake of survival. Both of them were robbed of this opportunity when they survived their attempts at martyrdom, yet their attempts do save the people they love. They’re both pretty much in the same place at the beginning of s6 - on the edges of their groups (although Clarke has been treated far more warmly by ReconKru than Octavia has been on the Eligius ship), feeling alone except for one special girl (Madi and Niylah respectively, although also Bellamy was being pretty nice to Clarke before the Psychosis thing happened), and they both have so much blood on their hands. Both have lashed out to an extent, but both have also directed their anger and guilt inward, and against themselves physically. I don’t know what the intention is behind these parallels yet - both women need a lot of peace and time to heal from what they’ve been through. Will they both actually be allowed that, on this show? I doubt it. That scares me, because as much as I complain about Clarke, I’ve never wanted a tragic ending for her. But if it comes down to a choice, I think y’all know what my bias would be. And right now, Octavia looks more likely to meet that dark end than Clarke.

This is long enough, so that’s it for now! Let me know your own thoughts!!

#the 100 meta #the 100 reactions #6x02 #the 100 spoilers #s6 #octavia blake #clarke griffin #stephspeaks #long post

[youcantkillamutant]

The Mystery of the Golden Fang: Part 2, The Enlightenment

Part 1: The Collision

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: A girl stumbles into another world. A baby disappears. A private investigator wonders if this will be the case he can’t solve.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, cursing

Words: 9K

A/N: So…here’s another one of those AU’s that absolutely no one asked for! I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening to: Lightyears by Kimbra, Werewolf Heart by Dead Man’s Bones, Bad Ritual by Timber Timbre, and Blood on My Hands by Danielle Parente 

Part 2: The Enlightenment

—l—

When a candle burns, even the wind cannot no undo what has been melted by the fire.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 1, 2040

1:02AM

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Hazel’s heart had done more than leap out of her chest. For all she knew the organ had departed her body completely, leaving her gasping and holding the hole in her chest. After N’Jadaka had dropped his…fangs, Hazel promptly took three steps back and clutched the baby so tightly she woke up. Now Hazel focused on the baby’s eyes; wide, brown, round, and curious while she tried to breathe through whatever was happening in her body.

N’Jadaka took a few steps back from the human in confusion. Who is this chick? N’Jadaka had never met someone who didn’t know about vamps. And now this girl showed up with a baby and without a clue. He turned to Shuri in question.

“Shu, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well you have to tell her, especially after that little show of your fangs.”

“Yeah but look at her. She’s having a freaking heart attack. Wait do humans still have those?”

“Yes they do, so just be chill about it. Ease her into it. I’m sure if you present it to her in a rational way she’ll take it well. Probably.”

“Yeah, chill.” N’Jadaka nodded to himself as he mouthed the words again. Chill.

The girl seemed to have calmed down, though she was still taking careful breaths as N’Jadaka approached. He took in her brown skin and broad nose wondering for a moment if she was actually a fairy. He peered around her back for wings, but none appeared, and he resigned himself to having to explain his existence to a human, of all creatures.

“Now, I don’t want you to freak out okay? My cousin and I aren’t going to hurt you.” He approached her short form cautiously.

“Pretty sure those gold fangs beg to differ.” Even terrified and confused, Hazel managed to snark at the stranger. He had just flashed his razor sharp fangs at her.

“That was supposed to be funn––” N’Jadaka threw his arms up in surrender.  “Forget it. My cousin and I are vampires, but we won’t––”

“Vampires?!” Hazel’s shriek was enough to startle the baby, but instead of holding a crying baby, suddenly Hazel was holding a whimpering ball of fur. Yelping Hazel squeezed the leather jacket curled around the fur ball tightly. It barked when it fell from Hazel’s arms, and she stumbled back. On the ground was a small jaguar cub; pied and blinking, Hazel couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Luckily, Shuri swept into the conversation.

“Sounds like she’s taking it well.” N’Jadaka curled his lips at the mirth in her voice.

“The kid turned into a jaguar on me! I can’t really keep things ‘chill’ after that.”

“Whatever you say cousin.”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying that baby, turned into that jaguar?” The cub was now playing with Terra, N’Jadaka’s panther familiar. They were a mass of black and golden fur, racing around in circles and nipping at each other’s tails playfully.

“Yep, your kid’s a shifter! Surprise!” Shuri completed the action with a cheesy grin and outstretched fingers while wandering towards the front doors.

“She’s not mine…” Hazel trailed off. She couldn’t find the words, or any words really to describe the hysteria that was going on in her head. Vampire’s are a myth, were a myth up until a few minutes ago.

She’d never thought much of the alley behind The Golden Fang but now she wished she had been smart enough to avoid it. Wherever she was now is proof that that place is not normal. Hazel was tempted to walk outside and see if she would find the same shops across from the club sign, or even walk back to the care center, but something told her that wouldn’t be the case. Hazel had a sinking feeling in her gut that a step out of that door would lead her into a different world.

“You really aren’t from here are you?”

“Where is here, exactly?” caution colored Hazel’s voice as she watched the baby and panther play. Aside from the whole shapeshifter thing, Hazel had never seen any wild animals this close. It was kind of fascinating.

“Metropolis.”

“Like the cartoon?” N’Jadaka couldn’t control his face when he heard the girl’s confused response. She truly didn’t know anything about his world.

“No, its––Haven’t you heard about President Gorya?” The current president was worse than a joke because he took himself seriously, but the rest of the world didn’t. That’s why T’Challa is running. If anyone could make a change, it would be T’Challa. That vamp is too benevolent for his own good.

“Who?”

“What about the Creatures Rights Act?” It was the biggest push from species rights activists at the time and the only bill to pass unanimously. Still, from the look on Hazel’s face, this didn’t ring a bell. The more questions N’Jadaka asked, the more concerned Hazel got. Either this guy was really convincing, or she really is in a different place entirely.

“The what?”

“Tiller Mayhem?” N’Jadaka mentioned the serial killer that had been running rampant, targeting all kinds of low country creatures up until he was caught last year.

“Nothing.”

“Beyoncé?” Shuri had returned from her wandering, slipping back into the conversation with ease.

“Duh! You guys have Beyoncé?” Hazel nearly shouted her response, happy to hear something that finally made sense.

“Yeah she’s the biggest pop vamp in the world.” N’Jadaka could name her last few singles and even knew a few of her songs, but Shuri was the real fan.

“Wait wait, Beyoncé’s a vampire?”

“And a succubus on her mom’s side. What is she in your world?”

“The biggest pop star. A mom. Amazing.”

“She has kids in your world?”

“Yep! A daughter and twins. Blue, Sir and Rumi.” N’Jadaka had heard enough from the girls, and steered the conversation back to answers.

“Back to the original question. Where the hell did you come from and how did you get here?”

“Um, I’m from Ortega,” The blank stares Hazel received from N’Jadaka and Shuri made her even more self conscious. “which apparently doesn’t exist here. As for how I got here…I was on my way home from work and I heard a baby crying.”

“And you just followed the sound?” Hazel could hear the skepticism in N’Jadaka’s voice. She bristled.

“Yes, I followed the sound. I’m not the kind of person to leave a baby in an alleyway.”

“So you find the baby and what?”

“I don’t know. It got a little windy and the next thing I know, you’re walking out for a smoke.”

“Next thing you know? Seriously short stack? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Sounds like a load of––” Shuri stopped N’Jadaka before he could belittle the girl further. She didn’t know the human, but no one deserves to be on the end of N’Jadaka’s righteous inquisition.

“Well I’ve got a theory––” N’Jadaka rolled his eyes at his cousin’s statement. He knew all about Shuri’s theories, and as of late they’d become so ridiculous he was getting concerned about her health. Sure she might be the smartest person in the world, but she’s always been one step away from falling down the rabbit hole and onto the Mad Hatters cap. Shuri’s kimoyo beads rang before he could say anything.

Shuri stepped away to answer the call and N’Jadaka returned his attention to the human. She was small, hence the nickname but something about her was big. Currently she was rolling around with Terra and the baby shifter, giggling as they snuggled with her. N’Jadaka wanted to summon Terra back to him with a kiss of his teeth, but he studied the trio instead. In the ten years Terra had been with N’Jadaka she’d always been a good judge of character. She’d sniffed out plenty of shady club goers and warded him away from even shadier business deals. Now the cat was nipping at this girl from another world and purring louder than he’d ever heard.

“N’Jadaka, that was a call from my brother. Nakia’s back. He wants to––

“Have a family dinner.”

“Well we better get packing. What do we do with the…” He gestured to the human and shifter.

“They’re coming with us. Obviously.”

“So you want me to bring an unregistered human and a random shapeshifting kid to family dinner?” N’Jadaka stroked his chin for a second pondering the consequences.

“You know what, that might actually make things interesting. Let’s do it.” Shuri facepalmed before shoving N’Jadaka.

“You always want to make trouble.”  N’Jadaka shrugged.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 4, 2040

4:15PM

The nearly Ivy League college was as crisp as the orange autumn leaves. Crestbay University was one of the top 5 schools in the country and home to the most advanced psychological in the world. Detective Stevens found himself there after two days of gathering information and hitting brick walls.

“Will do Mrs. Okoye.” The bright eyed student bounced on his toes as Okoye raised her brow.

“Professor Okoye.”

“Oh, right. S—sorry Professor.” Light in their eyes sufficiently dimmed by embarrassment, the student practically ran away, and Erik couldn’t resist teasing his old friend.

“Still scaring the freshmen Professor?”

“When it suits me.” The duo shared a laugh, and Okoye jumped right into questioning her old partner.

“What do you need Erik?”

“It’s about a case.”

“Stevens we aren’t partners anymore. You can’t come to me about this stuff, especially since I know hardly any of your work is above the board.”

“I know but, Okoye it’s…I can’t explain this one.”

“The great Erik Stevens can’t explain something? Color me shocked!” Okoye teased, but Erik stood his ground. In all the time they’d known each other, Erik had never met a smarter woman than Okoye. She was observant and a savant in nearly every subject, which made her such an annoyingly amazing partner when they were on the force. Usually he never bothered to enlist any other help for his cases, preferring to handle everything on his own, but this case has stumped him from the beginning.

Hazel Fay had no reason to run away. According to her coworkers and friends, she was happy as a clam. Sure she worked two jobs, but that was more for experience than out of necessity. She didn’t have any outstanding debts, no enemies or secret vices. She was—is a perfectly normal girl who somehow went missing without a trace.

“How much do you know about alternate dimensions?” Okoye fixed Erik with an incredulous look considering the nature of the question and its complete ridiculousness, but when she saw he was serious Okoye sighed and grabbed her bags.

“Lets get a drink.”

“Oakies?” Erik was referring to the southern bar chain known for their hospitality, sleek bartops and haunting musical acts. Okoye scoffed.

“What do we need to go to a bar chain for? I got whisky in my office.”

“Okay Professor.”

Erik ran over the case again in his mind on their scenic walk to her office.

Hazel goes to work all day at the school and then her night job at the care center. According to her coworkers, there is nothing out of the ordinary, no angry parents of crying kids. She leaves the care center at around 9PM, and begins her walk home to her apartment on Lafayette Street. She pauses right in front of the security camera posted outside of the Golden Fang Bar for exactly forty seconds. Her head is tilted, she is listening to something. Finally she moves, but instead of heading home, she ventures further into the alleyway. She crouched down to the ground, grabbed something and holds it to her chest. When she rises from her knees, she disappears.

“She just vanished. One moment she was there in the alley, and then she picks up some black bundle and poof!” Erik relayed all he had gathered about the case to Okoye in the beautiful brownstone home that had been converted into office spaces for the professors and their assistants. He threw his notes on her desk, giving her a chance to peruse them while he sank into the wood and leather chair that sat in front of her desk.

Okoye gestured to the bottle of whisky that sat in the corner of her desk, procuring a pair of glasses while she studied Erik’s notes. Erik poured a finger for each of them and leaned back. Okoye hadn’t changed her office much since he had last been here. The walls were still the same boring white—or eggshell as he was initially informed. A red and gold tapestry hung on one of the walls, glittering in the sunlight that streamed through the open window of the room. Her wide wooden desk was littered with rhino trinkets, pens, and golden bits and bobs.

“That is…strange. This whole case is…odd.”

“That’s an understatement. Look, Okoye I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t run through every logical possibility. No one at the bar even saw the girl. They’ve got nothing.” Okoye nodded gathering her thoughts on the case. It was strange. The girls in Erik’s cases don’t just disappear without a trace like this. Sure they’re hard to find, but there are breadcrumbs to follow. This video leaves nothing.

“I’m a layman’s physicist in comparison to your connections. You should talk to an actual award-winning one.” Erik knew who she was hinting to, but he played dumb.

“You should talk to Nakia about this.” Erik didn’t shake his head at Okoye’s suggestion, but he didn’t nod either. The last person he wanted to think about was Nakia. Super-spy extraordinaire. Award-winning physicist. The first and only woman to break his heart. The reason he works as hard as he does now.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe, but she can help with this. She would want to, if it helps you find this girl.” Okoye knew this wasn’t the answer he was hoping to find with her, but she was never in the business of biting her tongue to please others. Erik needed help and she didn’t have nearly enough knowledge on the subject he was looking into to give him a useful answer.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Erik slammed back the rest of his whisky, gathered his notes and waved Okoye goodbye.

“See you around Professor?” She smiled, all teeth and mirthful eyes.

“If you can find me Stevens.” Erik rolled his eyes at the jab and pulled out his phone, dialing the most recent number he found for Nakia before the whisky wore off.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 7, 2040

2:05PM

“It’s been a week and I still haven’t seen my daughter Harley.” A week. A full seven days of sleepless nights and endless searching for Ayana. Harley didn’t know what was real and what was a dream at this point, but she still kept searching. She conferred with every deity she could get in contact with, wrote every witch within a 100 mile radius, hell she even prayed. Still, Ayana never showed.

“You don’t think I’ve been looking?” Killmonger didn’t know what the witch had been doing since she’d thrown his baby into nowhere and he didn’t give one flying fuck. He’d gone too long without his daughter, too long without hearing her laugh or seeing her gummy smile. Hell he’d even take her teething cries over the silence that filled his house now. But the witch had no leads and he couldn’t find her scent. It was like she just, disappeared.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing much of anything.” Finally Harley snapped. After a week of his snide comments and shitty treatment, Harley whirled on the Tribal Leader with a snarl.

“Fuck you ‘Monger.” Killmonger twitched, arms reaching out to grab Harley’s neck before the door to the Golden Fang swung open.

“Well, well, well. What’s a guy have to do to get a drink in this shitty little town?” The white man wore a bright white cut adorned with fringe that didn’t deserve to see the light of day and obnoxious gold epithets on his shoulders. A patch of blood and bone was stitched in a jagged line on the back of his leather cut along with an embroidered name: The Poachers. The man wore his bloody cut and his deranged smile like an accessory. He didn’t make it to the bar before the Jags stood, blocking his path to the bar.

“Poacher’s ain’t welcome here.”

“Oh come on boys. I just want a little drink.” The man gave a small grin, revealing yellowed teeth and a few silver caps.

“No.”

“What’s up your ass? Your old lady ain’t doing her job?” The man waved to Harley, and she nearly lunged for the idiot. Killmonger is the last man she’d ever––

“Oh I know what it is! You lost your kid right? Left her with some witch? God, I’ve never met a shifter stupid enough to leave their kid with a witch, but there’s a first time for everything, right?” This time Harley did lunge. The Jags weren’t expecting anyone to break through from the back, and she got a solid punch in before W’Kabi, Erik’s right hand man, pulled her back behind the wall of Jags.

“Out.” Harley examined the blood under her nails, barely recalling the scratch she had gotten in before W’Kabi pulled her off of the Poacher. The man continued to speak, but Harley ripped herself from W’Kabi’s arms. Stomping out of the back door, pushing hard enough to hear it slam into the side of the bar as she made her way out to the dry dirt.

The Vibranium Babes had a bar just across the street, and Harley stomped her way to the bar. The bar was more of a club in the sense that it was always a little dark and had way too much chrome for a tiny town in the mountains, but Harley liked it. The music they played was a mix of bass electric and bubblegum pop that made her want to bob her head and grin at the same time. Ayana used to love walking by here on the way back to the Golden Fang. That thought was enough to sober Harley and she pushed her way to to back of the club where Shuri’s office sat.

The door glowed purple from the inside out but Harley couldn’t hear a sound. She knocked just below the sign that read: ‘Boss Babe’ and pressed her hand to the door as she waited. She tried to use the cool metal to calm herself and focus her energy. Right now, her powers were going haywire because every single thing she had built for herself in this town was going haywire. Even before she became Harley, Harley couldn’t remember a time where she felt so hopeless. Killmonger hated her even more, and Ayana wasn’t there to soften the blow. As she recalled his words, each one hurt a little more.

“Harley? Come in.” Shuri got one look at the girl and pulled her into her office. She guided them both to a plush purple couch sitting beside her and tossing Harley a pillow to hug. She latched onto it immediately.

“Shuri, I need to do a spell.”

“Harley spell working is too dangerous—” Harley knew spell working was dangerous. She knew every risk from growing addicted to perils of white magic to growing three extra arms and an antenna. None of that mattered. Or the risk was worth it all. Ayana had become everything to Harley, and the longer she was away, the tighter the noose squeezed around her heart.

“I don’t give a fuck Shuri. I have to do something. I have to find her!” Shuri inhaled and held Harley’s gaze. On a good day, Shuri wouldn’t never even begin to entertain the idea of spell working. Ritual magic and energy flow are the safest options for a witch like Harley, but those take time. Time that Shuri could tell they were running out of. Killmonger would lose what little patience he had, and even Shuri couldn’t guarantee Harley’s safety then. On the exhale, she relented.

“We need to go see Oma.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 8, 2040

5:09AM

“I’m just saying her presence proves my theory that multidimensional travel is possible!”

“Shuri, I love you, I do, but her presence proves nothing. What if she just has amnesia or something?”

“How many humans have you seen walking around unchipped and unregistered? And when’s the last time you ran into a jaguar shifter? You know I’m right N’Jadaka.”

“I know a lot of things, but that ain’t it.”

Hazel Fay was amazed to learn not only that vampires existed in whatever world she stumbled into but that they can walk in the sunlight without problem. Though most of them tended to be nocturnal, apparently they travelled in the daytime. Hazel and the baby, which she had taken to calling ‘Bug’ where ushered into a sleek black car by N’Jadaka and Shuri. Upon entering, the car released a mist of something Hazel couldn’t quite place, and then N’Jadaka and Shuri were back with suitcases packed, Terra climbing into the backseat with Hazel and Bug as they set off to…wherever they were going.

N’Jadaka and Shuri have been bickering ever since from the front seat. In an instant it dawned on Hazel that she should have never gotten into the car. Hell she probably shouldn’t have said anything to these vampires at all. Hazel whipped her phone out of her pocket, frantically pressing the home button, but nothing appeared. Either it was dead, or it didn’t work in whatever world she was in right now. Hazel only had a moment to panic before her mouth whizzed past her brain.

“Where the hell are you taking us?”

“T’Challa’s house.” N’Jadaka sighed in annoyance, though he was happy to get some entertainment from the human. He was beginning to wonder if she had fallen mute.

“Which is where?” Hazel did her best to remain polite, she really did, but vampire or not this guy is an asshole.

“Considering you don’t even know where Metropolis is, I doubt you’re going to know where to find Wakanda.”

“Then show me. I’m sure it’s not that difficult.” Hazel was one snarky word away from flicking the back of N’Jadaka’s ear no matter the consequences.

“She has a point cousin.” In an instant, the entire front seat turned to face Hazel, the baby, and Terra. N’Jadaka looked sufficiently annoyed and Hazel was beginning to wonder if that was just his face. Shuri on the other hand had her left wrist outstretched, a bracelet of thick black beads emitting a soft blue light.

“This is our travel plan.” An image of a map projected from Shuri’s bracelet this time, bright, blue and bold. Hazel could see a continent that looked to be like Africa, but the States, or what was the States in her world, was all messed up. The east coast ended where Virginia might have been, Florida was completely gone, and the midwest had become and island somehow.

“We started in Metropolis, obviously. And we’re headed to Wakanda the second largest vamp city in the world. It’s in Cafria, just about 5,000 miles east.” Shuri pointed out Metropolis, which looked to be where New York city would have been in Hazel’s world. then she pointed out Africa, or ‘Cafria’ as it was called here, as their destination.

“How long will it take?”

“A couple of days give or take. As long as the weather holds we should be fine.” Shuri waved off the weather like it was nothing and pulled out a piece of small circular technology. She leaned forward towards Hazel and held it up to the window. Hazel’s eyes widened at the invasion of personal space, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Shuri’s eyes. they were yellow and orange, like flecks of fire dancing from a flame. Chagrinned, Shuri directed her attention to Hazel.

“Do you mind if I plug this in? I want to charge my kimoyo beads before the flight.” Hazel shrugged and watched the girl place the tech onto the window. It only took a second to pulse blue and then it began to hum. The sound was nearly silent, but Hazel watched in awe as Shuri pulled off her bracelet and held it to the tech. The bracelet latched on like a magnet and Shuri leaned back, pulling down the shade by her face. Self driving cars and solar power. To Hazel this was more futuristic than she expected for another world.

“Solar charger. It’s my newest prototype. Adding the magnet is always tricky with everything else going on in there, but I think it’ll hold.” Shuri explained when she saw the look on Hazel’s face and again wondered where in the universe this girl came from. She very clearly wasn’t a part of their world, despite what N’Jadaka might think. This girl wasn’t meant to be a part of their world and it’s only a matter of time before fate pulls her back to wherever she truly needs to be. Shuri wanted to be the one to see her back to her world and maybe even get a glimpse of it in the process.

Hazel nodded gratefully at the explanation and watched Shuri lean back in her seat again. She watched as the girl closed her eyes, and watched even closer as her breathing evened out. As far as she knew vampires don’t just sleep in the open, so Hazel had to wonder what the hell she was doing.

“You staring at my cousin pretty hard. You into her or something?” Hazel whipped a side-eye at N’Jadaka. Sure the girl was cute and they looked to be around the same age, but as of right now, she was in another world. The last thing she’s focused on are prospective partners.

“No. It’s just…In my world, Vampires only sleep in coffins. Or upside down. And they can’t go out in the sunlight either.”

“The vampires in your world sound like pussies.”

“Yeah well it’s not like they’re real anyways. At least not in my world.”

“You’re serious about that? No vampires in your world?”

“No magical creatures at all. Why?”

“I don’t know, I just can’t imagine a world without us, and creatures like us. I mean sure I could do without the Stokers, but compared to the fae, they aren’t so bad.” Hazel’s brain spun at the mention of fae and a world with magical creatures before her mind caught on a question.

“Stokers?”

“Yeah the European vampire assholes that love to try and gentrify anything they deem ‘in desperate need of repair’. Those are the ones that can barely tolerate the sunlight, though they still bring their undead asses out on occasion.”

“Wait, there are different types of vampires?”

“Not genealogically, for the most part we’re the same, these are just our…cultural differences.” Hazel raised her brows in an effort to get him to elaborate and after a moment of annoyance that he had to explain anything at all, N’Jadaka relented.

“Okay so, you’ve got the Stokers––”

“European assholes.” Hazel covered the baby’s ears as she said the last word, even though Bug was fast asleep. N’Jadaka almost smiled.

“Right. Then the succoyants. They came from the islands and pretty much dominate the south nowadays. And lastly you’ve got The Adize. My people. We came from Wakanda, and all over Cafria.” Hazel heard the pride in N’Jadaka’s voice.

“So what makes you special?”

“Well, in our legends, we turn into fireflies. We dance along the plains, flying free until we need to feed. Then we can fall into whatever form suits us best and…eat.” N’Jadaka leaned closer to Hazel as he told the story, laughing a little when she jumped at his final words. She was easy to scare. He tried to get a whiff of her scent, but remembered the scent blockers they’d doused her and the baby with. She’d have to remain a mystery.

They pulled up to the tarmac smoothly, Shuri jolting out of sleep the second the car stopped. Hazel peered out the window taking in the small, sleek black jet. It was the only plane on the blacktop and for the first time Hazel wondered just who she was traveling with. Peeking down at baby Bug, she was happy to see the kid was still fast asleep. Terra was too, and she didn’t envy N’Jadaka having to wake her up to get her on the plane.

“This is us.”

“Are you guys rich or something?” Shuri laughed and turned to N’Jadaka, gracefully twirling out of the car and towards the jet.

“You want to handle that one cousin?”

“We’re comfortable.” N’Jadaka shrugged under her scrutiny, then shook himself and sat taller. No human is going to make him feel any type of way about his money. Hazel couldn’t stop digging.

“How comfortable?”

“Let’s just say, Wakanda treats us like kings.”

“So you’re what? Vampire royalty?” Hazel watched N’Jadaka shrug his answer with rapt attention. He was being way too casual about this for it to mean nothing.

“Of a sort. My father was a prince. We tend to live in an…elevated economic status than some of the other vamps.” Hazel couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Not that N’Jadaka noticed, he was busy checking the flight plan on his kimoyo beads.

“Now I know you’re royalty.”

“Why?”

“Because when you talk about certain ‘economic circumstances’ you sound like a media trained asshat.” Hazel’s hands went right over Bug’s ears again.

“Charming.” N’Jadaka stopped Hazel’s questioning with a sneer. He’d be damned, well even more damned than he already is, before they messed up their flight plan. He hefted Terra over his shoulder and nodded to the attendants. They grabbed the luggage and hurried to the plane as Hazel scrambled out of the car, baby in her arms.

“Please tell me you know what a plane is.” Hazel rolled her eyes at N’Jadaka’s condescension.

“Oh fuck off.” Of course, that’s when Bug decided to wake up.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 8, 2040

9:22AM

“Kia.”

Erik was surprised that the phone only rang once after he finally mustered up the courage to call. Nakia’s voice hit him like a hurricane, strong and quick and biting. It took him four days to make this call, and he wasn’t proud of it. Erik had never been anything but bitterly independent, but when Okoye couldn’t help him and he spent another few hours beating his head against the wall and watching a tape that made no logical sense, he gave in and called.

“I told you to stop calling me that E.” Her words wore annoyed but Erik could hear the smile creeping through her voice. He grinned into his own response.

“And I told you to stop calling me that.” The line was silent after that, and Erik remembered why they had stopped talking. They had never been a great match, but convenience makes fools of us all. Not to mention their family history.

“Why are you calling me Erik? I thought––” He didn’t have the hear the rest of the sentence to know how it was going to end. I thought I made everything clear the day you lowered my father into the ground. Erik knew he shouldn’t have called. Hell, he hated that he needed her help, but Jules Fay had called everyday since she first came to his office, and Erik was sick of filling her with non-answers and disappointment.

“I need your help. It’s about a girl.”

“Seriously?” Erik cringed at her tone, sharpened to a point he couldn’t stand.

“A missing girl. I think she’s in another dimension.” Nakia didn’t laugh or call him crazy, but he didn’t expect her to. She’s not that kind of person. She’s too smart to pass judgement without analyzing all of the factors.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s just disappeared without a trace Nakia. She’s not like you, she couldn’t have done this. She’s got no priors, no secret lovers, no enemies. She volunteers on the weekends and works with kids night and day.”

“She sounds like a saint.” Nakia was intrigued. She’d worked plenty of missions that involved finding people that couldn’t be found, but in her research, she’d never come across something like this without a clear explanation. She could understand why Erik was stumped.

“Exactly. There is no reason she would have been targeted. No reason for her to be taken.”

“People are crazy.” Nakia offered this up delicately, knowing the answer wasn’t in her words but giving them anyway to fill the silence.

“There was no one in or around that alley Nakia. She’s just…gone.” Nakia hesitated. Erik sounded weary. Erik Stevens was never anything but resolute and elegant, but now, he was weary.

“Send me the tape.” Erik’s breath crackled over the line.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“I know.” Erik went to pull the phone from his face, but Nakia stopped him.

“And Erik? If this is an impossible case, you need to stay open to all possibilities.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 10, 2040

3:27PM

Cafria is hot. Hotter than any place Hazel has ever experienced. It’s a crisp, dry heat that made her want to moisturize every five minutes. Her fingers swelled the second she stepped off of the plane and her phone burned a hole in her pocket. N’Jadaka and Shuri didn’t seem to share her sentiments. They waltzed off of the private jet with grins to rival a crocodile’s and they stretched like cats in the sun. Their eyes looked more gold than brown in this place, and the pair thrummed with a new kind of energy. Something magical, like they could become anything at any second, and no person or thing would be able to stop them.

After boarding yet another private plane to Wakanda, the quintet landed quickly and made their way into a private limo. Or what Hazel assumed was a limo in this place. It was just as sleek and black as anything in Metropolis, and Hazel pressed her nose against the window to watch the world fly by. Luxurious lakes reflected the pristine blue sky, and that soon gave way to rolling verdant hills with elegant horses galloping through them. By the time they reached the gate, Hazel had to sit back in her seat. Dazed and glutted by the beauty of this place called Wakanda.

At the gate, Shuri mumbled a few words in a language Hazel couldn’t understand and the wrought vibranium gates slid open. N’Jadaka studied this human take in the opulence of the estate. The car glided to a stop and the group made their way out of the car quickly. Hazel, clutched Bug in one arm and the other was free to feel the Wakandan air. Palm fronds of every shape and size enveloped the entryway and N’Jadaka watched as the girl reach out and touch them. She rubbed them between her fingers like she’d never seen a tree before, and once again he had to wonder just where she came from.

T’Challa and Nakia, the Scientist and the Spy stood together, looking just as picturesque as their palatial home. Smiles were plastered on their beautiful black faces, and they almost looked normal, human. All it took was another glance for Hazel to reconsider that thought. Golden eyes glittered like jewels in flawless faces and Hazel slowed her approach, falling behind N’Jadaka and Shuri.

“Sister,” The tall man pulled Shuri into a hug while the woman watched on. Then he turned his attention onto N’Jadaka. “Cousin.”

“Wassup?” N’Jadaka nodded and went for a handshake, finally revealing Hazel, who stood with Bug in her arms while Terra purred at her feet, tail flickering around her ankles. The lean man pulled his face into a judgmental visage of furrowed brows and downturned lips. Hazel didn’t bother waving, instead taking in the grandiose foyer. Dark wood melted into gleaming tile and mirrors reflected the setting sun through the tall french windows.

“This is not a BYOH cousin. We have plenty of blood for––” Shuri shoved T’Challa on the shoulder and though his face conveyed brotherly annoyance, he stood rooted to the spot.

“She is not a blood bag brother. She is proof!”

“Proof?” Hazel never thought someone could raise their eyebrow wearily, but here she was, seeing it happen. Maybe it’s a vampire thing.

“Yes, they are proof that multidimensional travel is possible.” N’Jadaka face palmed while T’Challa sighed. He should have known by now to remain unsurprised by Shuri’s…hypotheses, but he still hasn’t mastered complete control of his reactions. Still, this is better than when Shuri designed that––T’Challa stopped himself before he walked too far down memory lane.

“Why don’t you all come inside and we can talk over breakfast?” Nakia finally spoke, voice even and only slightly commanding. As though her word was law, T’Challa nodded and followed her into the house. The trio followed suit, Hazel gripping Bug a touch tighter than necessary.

The hallways were painted blue laced in gold trimmings and peppered with greenery. Hazel couldn’t imagine living in a place this pristine. Paintings hung from the walls and silvery glimmering busts stood in the corners. It was like walking through a museum. After what felt like a mile long walk to Hazel, the group made it to the dining room. Terra darted to a silvery bowl filled to the bring with wet food and the rest of them took their seats.

Hazel sat Bug up in her lap, waving away the highchair Nakia offered. She felt safer with the baby in her arms. Even if said baby could turn into a jaguar. The table was laden with all manner of breakfast foods. Sausage and bacon and eggs and pancakes steamed from their places on the table, but Hazel caught sight of something else. Pastries were piled high on three trays to the right of her. Perfectly laminated croissants, fluffy muffins, and glossy danishes filled to the brim with bright fruits beckoned her to take a bite, but N’Jadaka stopped her before she could reach for one.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” N’Jadaka had been watching the girl through all of this, and he had to admit he was impressed. Most humans would have run away screaming if the T’Challa Udaku had referred to them as a blood bag, but this girl…Hazel, didn’t seem to know what the hell we were talking about at all. It wasn’t necessarily refreshing, but it was interesting.

“Why not? I’m starving” Hazel nearly bit N’Jadaka’s hand off of her shoulder. She hadn’t eaten since…There had been snacks on the plane, but she’s hadn’t had a real meal since she was back home. Before she came to this world, she had plans to make soups all weekend and freeze them for the months to come. Now Hazel wondered if she’s ever get home again.

“Some of the ingredients might not sit well with you.” N’Jadaka had seen human get sick from eating their food, and he didn’t need to see it again.

“Which ingredients?”

“The blood mostly.” Hazel balked and N’Jadaka barked out a laugh. Now that he mentioned it, Hazel could see the pastries had a slightly pink tinge to them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and let Bug play with them for a bit while she tried to reason with her grumbling stomach.

As if she could read her mind, or hear her stomach, Nakia placed a plate in from of Hazel. It was piled high with fruits and bagels without a bloody tint to them. Hazel gazed up to find herself captured by golden irises as she thanked the woman. Nakia nodded with a small smile, happy that N’Jadaka brought a human with manners this time.

“So, who exactly are you?” Nakia said this after she was seated next to T’Challa. Her tone was kind but her brow was raised high enough to make Hazel want to curl in on herself.

“My name is Hazel Fay. I’m from a town named Ortega, which apparently doesn’t exist here.” Of all the things Hazel couldn’t wrap her head around in the this place, the fact that she was no longer home was the hardest. In fact, home doesn’t exist, or never did exist in this place. According to Shuri and N’Jadaka.

“N’Jadaka found her in the alley of the Golden Fang. With a baby shifter. On a full moon.” Shuri’s emphasis on her last few words made Hazel wonder just how much she was missing, but everyone else at the table looked just was clueless as she felt. Bug wiggled in her arms, reaching for the plate in front of her. Hazel pulled the muffin into bits and handed them to Bug, happy to see the baby eating without problem. The last thing Hazel wants to worry about was a baby who wouldn’t eat.

“And you just appeared here?”

“Yes Nakia! Her presence here is a matter of the divine. Bast herself brought her to us, for some…reason.” Shuri said all this with excitement, but N’Jadaka couldn’t resist a snort. He loved his cousin, but sometimes she let her scientific ideals blind her to reality. This human still hasn’t proven much of anything yet.

“We still don’t have proof that she isn’t from our…world.”

“And that’s where you come in, Brother.” SHuri turned to T’Challa with a grin.

“What is the perfect candidate going to do to prove your theory Shuri?” N’Jadaka’s voice was teasing and Shuri rolled her eyes. T’Challa and Nakia watched on in silence, apparently used to this kind of thing.

“Aside from being the perfect presidential candidate, my brother is a scientist too.” After relaying this information to Hazel, Shuri turned to N’Jadaka with a childish sneer.

“T’Challa is going to scan her and ensure she isn’t in the system. She won’t be, but until N’Jadaka gets his head out of his A-S-S and learns to trust me, we’ll have to waste time.” The man in question rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Hazel was grateful that Shuri spelled out the curse word and couldn’t help but giggle a bit at their interaction. T’Challa on the other hand took charge. He turned Hazel to face him and raised his arm.

“I suppose a retina scan cannot hurt.” T’Challa pressed a finger to his kimoyo beads and a thin blue bar moved over Hazel’s eyes before she could blink.

“Brother just scanned your eyes and is running them through the system. Every creature in or world is registered from the moment of their creation, though only certain beings have access to certain databanks. As a high ranking vampire official, T’Challa has access to everything.” Shuri finished her spiel with a prideful wave, but Hazel could only nod slowly. Just as she thought she was getting the hang of this world, something new popped up. There was a quiet rumbling sound, like the bead was calculating before it released a long beep.

“No Record…”

“Ha! No record, which means she is not from our world because every human in our world is registered. It is impossible not to be.” N’Jadaka huffed when Shuri turned to him with her hands on her hip and a smirk to rival his own.

“Fine Shuri, you were right.”

“If she isn’t from this world, how did she get here in the first place?” Nakia asked this quietly leaning back in her chair as she observed the scene. T’Challa and Nakia had always encouraged Shuri’s natural curiosity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the hypothesis that would get her in trouble that they couldn’t get her out of. She prayed to Bast that that day would never come, but looking at this unregistered human had her heightened senses on alert.

“And how do I get back?”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 11, 2040

5:12PM

Four days. Harley has been hiking for four days. Four days in the Calawuga heat, marching on the hardened soil in barely broken in boots. All to see the mystical Oma. Whoever the fuck that is. To be fair, Harley had a vague inclination of who Oma is; a mountain witch with ties to the Great Gorilla tribe. That’s as much as she knew off hand, and after four days of hiking with Shuri, her curiosity won out over her pride.

“So, why exactly are we going to see Oma?”

“She’s the Queen of the Great Gorilla Tribe.” Shuri said this like it was common knowledge, which in part is was. The Great Gorilla’s kept to themselves for the most part, but the town knew their hierarchy. M’Baku was king and his Queen, Oma was the most powerful witch in the town. The only reason Harley hadn’t gone to Oma in the first place is because of the falling out Killmonger had with M’Baku when he decided to marry Oma. The man hates witches so much, he let it ruin his best friendship.

“And?”

“Seriously? You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.” Harley’s annoyance seeped into every word but Shuri shook her head.

“Aside form being a crazy powerful witch, she’s one of the only witches who’s messed with spell work and white magic. Well, one of the only ones who’s lived to tell the tale.” Harley was impressed to say the least. She’d never even bothered with withe magic, the idea of it was more than enough to put her off. White magic or spirit magic in some circles, is more than dangerous. It’s a brush with death. Speaking to the dead is almost always more trouble than it’s worth and Harley never needed the power that came with that kind of magic. That is, until now.

“I can’t believe Monger didn’t tell you.”

“It’s not like he’s my biggest fan Shuri.” Shuri snorted, but in a way that challenged Harley’s statement.

“Shuri, the man hates me.”

“He really doesn’t. He’s just––” They heard the vocalizations before Shuri could get another word out. In a minute, they were surrounded.

Queen Oma of the Great Gorilla Tribe lives deep in the Calawat mountain range. A four day hike will get you to the boarders of her land, but it will take another six hours by foot. Maybe seven if you’re surrounded by an elite force of Calawugan warriors. When the pair were initially surrounded, Harley began sizing up her opponents. They were big, and fierce, but Harley thought with the right amount focus, she could take them. Shuri stopped her before it could come to that, speaking to the warriors in their native tongue, promising them that the duo meant no harm and only requested an audience with the Queen.

They were brought to the palace, a wooden masterpiece that sat on the second highest peak in the mountain. The highest peak was reserved for Hanuman of course, their Gorilla headed god. The halls of the palace were light and open, far from the fortresses of the tribal bars back in town, and Harley marveled at how deeply she could breath the mountain air. It had been a while since she had taken a breath not filled with the scent of smoke and booze.

Their audience with the queen was granted after a moment of waiting and they followed their craven of warriors into an octagonal room. In each wall rested a window and above, the ceiling fell away to nothing in the middle. It was reminiscent of a roman atrium pillars, wooden instead of stone, and the ground paved smooth.  

“Queen Oma, we thank you for meeting with us.” The King was nowhere to be found but taking in the woman Shuri called queen, she didn’t find that strange at all.

Queen Oma stood tall on a rug woven with fresh palm leaves and a crown resting on her head. Small skulls the size of Harley’s palm dangled from the regent’s ears and she granted Shuri a closed lipped smile.

“Shuri, I trust this is important. It is nearing the end of hunting season you know.”

“It is Queen Oma.” Harley was surprised to hear that Shuri never dropped the title of Queen with Oma. Shuri would grant anyone else a ridiculous nickname, but with the Queen, it was only respect.

“My friend and I,” Shuri waved to Harley, and Harley curtsied for lack of better ideas on how best to show respect. “we need your advice spell working.” In an instant, Queen Oma turned her gaze to Harley.

“You want to do spell work? Why?” Bright brown eyes captivated Harley, causing her to scramble for words while Shuri nudged her arm.

“My…” Harley reached for the words to best describe what Ayana was to her, and then decided to avoid that rabbit hole completely.

“I need to find someone. She’s disappeared.”

“And you think spell working will help you? Why?”

“I––I don’t know what else to try.”

“Scrying.” Harley knew what scrying was, a certain type of meditation witches could use to see the future. Harley also knew that she couldn’t do it.

“My energy isn’t particularly inclined towards premonition.”

“It’s a good thing that scrying isn’t solely for premonition then isn’t it?” With a nod, Oma had the room cleared. Only Shuri, Harley and Oma stood in that large rotunda.

The night sky loomed overhead, stars winking into existence here and there. Scraping sounded from the right and before Harley could fall into a defensive position at the sudden sound, Oma stopped her with a hand. Oma strolled to the side of the room, scooping up a large bowl that had been slid into the room from outside and brought it to the center of the room. She placed it on the dais that sat there under the dark sky and gestured for me to look into it.

“I really don’t know how to do this.”

“I will guide you. Now look.”

With a deep breath, Harley turned her gaze downwards, into the bowl. There was a dark liquid in the bowl, still settling from movement. It was so dark Harley could see the whites of her eyes reflected in it, her brown skin finding highlights in the shimmering fluid.

“Concentrate on who you want to see. Not how she was or how she might be, but how she is, in this very moment.”

Harley concentrated. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes. She held her breath and scratched her neck. All of this, and she saw nothing.

“It’s not working.”

“That is because you do not believe it will work. You do not believe your energy will let you see anything outside of your realm of knowledge. You must expand your mind, your energy. Use everything you have to reach out, to see her, to find her.”

Harley forced herself to take Oma’s words seriously. Sure she’s never done this before, but until now, no witch had ever told Harley that she didn’t have the power to do something magical. That she didn’t believe in her energy. Harley knew how powerful she was. Powerful enough to frighten all of her neighbors and classmates with a single glance. Powerful enough to bring down the electricity for her entire city, and bring it back up again. Harley knew power, knew energy, she just wasn’t sure how to wield it.

So she buckled down. She closed her eyes for a breath, and on the exhale opened them slowly. As she raise her eyelids, she could see flecks of energy that flickered around the room. Aura’s could be tricky to see, but on nights like these, dark and clear, she couldn’t help but see them. Shuri’s blazed bright purple, and Oma’s was and emerald green, but Harley was searching for her own. Blue like the inner flame of a fire. She caught a glimpse of it, sitting right beside the bowl. Concentrate on expanding your energy.

For a moment, Harley wasn’t quite sure what to do. She’d found her energy, but controlling it was another thing entirely. Before she could spiral into any sort of despair, she asked her energy to move. To stretch and seek out Ayana, to find her fuschia energy wherever it might be. Harley watched as her energy pulsed brightly, then began to move, flitting around like a firefly. Then, just as she thought she might be going crazy, an image flickered in the bowl.

It was a girl. A girl who looked like Harley before she shaved the sides of her head and got more piercings than she could count. They had the same hickory skin, the same brown eyes, and the same wide nose. For a moment Harley thought the girl was her, that she had messed up and summoned an image of the past, but then she saw Ayana. The baby girl, her baby girl was cuddled up in her Golden Jag cut, snuffling into the neck of the girl who looked so much like Harley. Then another woman, draped in black walked into the frame of the bowl. Her eyes echoed Harley’s own, and Harley couldn’t keep herself from jumping in surprise.

Her movement was enough to shake the bowl and knock her out of focus, but when she looked up, Harley relief curved her lips into a smile.

“She’s alive.”

A/N: Soooooooo we’re getting a little more information here, but nothing definitive. Yet.

So apparently Okoye is a surname? Am I the only who didn’t know that? I tried to find a “first name/christian name” for Okoye on the Wiki and in the comics, but there was nothing… So, Professor Okoye it is!

N’Jadaka is a bougie vampire lol. I would expect nothing less tho tbh. Also vampire subcultures! That was fun to write! Adize actually means “magic” in the Ghanian language of ewe :)

Hazel still doesn’t really know where the hell she is, and Harley has finally seen Ayana! Now she just has to tell ‘Monger and get that baby back in the right dimension. Should be easy enough, right?

Fun Fact: You can actually bake with blood. In some recipes it takes the place of egg whites/leavening agents, though it takes like three times as long to whip up in comparison to egg whites. Learned about that in this podcast! (Do not listen to this if you are squeamish!!!!!)

As always let me know what y’all think!

The Mystery of the Golden Fang Mood Board

A Map Made in Heaven

Masterlist

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis @queenamaniii @thatrandomfangirl98@dreadedphilosphy @killmongurl @thelovelyliterary @elaindeereads @thedom223@bidibidibombaclaat@thatrandomfangirl98 @panthergoddessbast @nemesispawn@writingmarvellousimagines @someareblindtoitsbeauty @jozigrrl @iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone @janelledarling

#The Mystery of the Golden Fang #bpfic #black panther #black panther fic #erik killmonger fic #erik killmonger x black!OC #erik killmonger #multiple reality AU

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: REWIND REVIEW: Toy Story 4

(Image courtesy of Walt Disney and Pixar via Walt Disney Media File)

For an occasional new segment, Every Movie Has a Lesson will cover upcoming home media releases combining an “overdue” or “rewind” film review, complete with life lessons, and an unboxed look at special features.

TOY STORY 4

After reopening the franchise and scoring at the summer box office Toy Story 4 arrives on October 8th. Pixar releases are always top-notch in the goodies department and this new 3-disc set offers plenty of treats. Completists, you’re going to want this disc, at least until some writer gets the idea to dust off these toys for an equally unnecessary fifth installment.

LATE HOMEWORK EXCUSE:  

I should rename this section from “Late Homework Excuse” to “Inciting a School Riot” for my participation with the June release of Toy Story 4. I saw the film early for press, covered a fun family event at Navy Pier, and was very unimpressed by the final product. My review was one of the initial wave of four that broke the Rotten Tomatoes perfect 100% Tomatometer score for the movie. The trolling comments and death threats followed and I wrote about that experience. I didn’t want to be that guy, but I just couldn’t call this sequel worthwhile trying to follow the near-perfection of Toy Story 3. I spelled out my stance to my peers as well with podcast appearances on “Kicking the Seat” and “You’ll Probably Agree.”

ANTICIPATORY SET AND PRIOR KNOWLEDGE:

A few years have passed since our core corps of toys were passed on to hazel-green-eyed Bonnie from the college-bound Andy. The toddler is now an anxious little girl entering kindergarten after starting to show favor at home towards other playtime favorites than our stalwart cowboy Woody (Tom Hanks). Even on the dust bunny closet sidelines, the vocal sheriff and leader still sees Bonnie’s happiness as his chief duty. He sneaks into Bonnie’s backpack for orientation day to be a familiar face and watches her having no luck in making friends or feeling positive.

Scavenging and sneaking some scraps and art supplies to Bonnie, Woody watches her create a makeshift little character out of a spork, pipe cleaner, stick-on shaky eyes, and other craft materials. With connection and accomplishment, Bonnie names him Forky and the sprinkle of loveable alchemy that makes Forky a toy to her brings him to life. The little junker (Tony Hale) becomes Bonnie’s favorite comfort but sentiently believes he’s still trash, a transition of character growth that will come from Woody’s teaching and leadership since the days of Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen).

LESSON #1: INTERPRET YOUR INNER VOICE — The first of many possible takeaway chestnuts for the target demographic showing up in droves for this movie is a message on conscience. Various characters in the movie, between pull-strings and heartstrings, duel with literal and figurative forms of their inner voice and how best to follow it or not. Good, bad, and questionable choices are made across the board for younger audiences to see as cautionary examples. This lesson counts as mildly beneficial in the worthwhile department.

All this built-up confidence and protection for Bonnie falls into peril when Forky gets lost on a family road trip to end the summer. Woody goes after him while Buzz (Tim Allen), Jessie (Joan Cusack) and the others hold down the family RV and stall Bonnie’s parents. Woody and Forky become sidetracked by the reemergence of his old flame Bo Peep (Annie Potts) who has found a thriving new life as a “lost” toy living independently on her own. Their reunion and pursuit intersects with the forgotten toys of an antique store led by Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks), an unwanted pull-string doll with a broken voice box and a gang of extremely creepy slick-haired suits at her disposal, who have taken Forky captive.

MY TAKE:

It could be the first movie, fourth movie, or the 17th of something really extensive, a beneficial purpose needs to be present beyond the business end of selling tickets and what not. For each movie or chapter at hand, one has to consider if there is a worthwhile story to tell, one that can justify this new effort being a true necessity. The key word there is worthwhile. To more specifically judge a sequel in that regard, one has to look where it came from and where it is going. Toy Story 4 indeed attempts to advance characters and chooses trajectories, but then look backward and forward and ask about value and placement. Despite the immense talent shining from the recording studio and the animation workshop, the traits and choices of Toy Story 4 lack being worthwhile.

LESSON #2: THE SYNONYMS OF “WORTHWHILE” — Dissect this important adjective further with its synonyms that offer a range of its possible connotations as a description. This review will feature five from worthwhile’s Thesaurus.com entry: advantageous, beneficial, constructive, justifiable, and valuable. All five can be applied to this film.

Advantageous and valuable, in the lucrative sense, are easy because the braintrust of Pixar has been tempted for the better part of a decade to re-open Toy Story after many initially ruled it out following the excellence of Toy Story 3. Audience interest and earning potential has not faded where this was bound to happen at some point. Now it’s here and it’s about earning justifiable inclusion and existence.

LESSON #3: BEING LOST VERSUS BEING FREE — In unison with Lesson #1, Disney has always had a tendency to over-highlight their chosen morals and themes. The “lost” fear here in Toy Story 4 is the first of two teachable concepts and plot ingredients that are beaten to death, even by Mouse House standards. Much fluster and bluster is expressed for avoiding becoming lost, helping the lost, and/or getting over something lost. All the while, and very true to the human condition paralleled through these cherished toys, there is a potential sunny freedom possible in being unbound that seeps in clouding motivations and futures. Still, it’s an overplayed point.

Circle back to purpose. The first Toy Story was groundbreaking and its stellar sequel strengthened and expanded its world-building beautifully. The keenly nostalgic third film wisely and perfectly brought everyone and everything further to a mature, impactful, and fitting conclusion. Continuing a journey that had an ending for a questionable transition such as this, Toy Story 4 does not match or exceed where it came from, not when repetitiveness and disconnection reign.

Eight creators, ranging from departed Pixar chief John Lasseter to the clever Celeste and Jesse Forever writing team of Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, are credited with this hodgepodge story ineffectively narrowed by the credited screenwriters of Pixar vet Andrew Stanton and new voice first-timer Stephany Folsom. This feels like eight or more ideas that all distract and tangle each other up to failing points. Because of stature and importance, it is difficult to positively describe the result as constructive. Unnecessary is a very tempting label, one that is probably too strong, but it is very close.

Both within the Toy Story franchise and beyond in other family films, we’ve seen the self-urgent dalliances and pitfalls of a manic need-to-get-back-home adventure endless times now. As the fourth film following what was serene closure, this counts as unjustified and even misguided. Cutely twitchy as he is, Forky is no better than a mini MacGuffin to force action and the mad cap spins become excessive by the time the movie culminates in a rehash Finding Dory’s vehicular takeover action finale. Likewise in the opposite direction, the Gabby Gabby tangent comprising the movie’s meaty middle is long-winded and ineffectual, even with a redemptive ending we can see coming.

The curveballs and new guest characters, ranging from a motorcycle stuntman action figure (Keanu Reeves) and carnival prize pair of stuffed animals (Keegan Michael Key and Jordan Peele) and a few others, are certainly cute thanks to their casting personalities, but paper thin as merely and predominantly additions of comic relief. Even with a semi-exciting pre-credits rescue sequence revealing Bo Peep’s fate between the events of Toy Story 2 and Toy Story 3, the swelling and positive female empowerment of the returning shepherdess that was an afterthought before this movie takes away from the established core on the sidelines like Buzz, Jessie, and more who carry more lasting care. For example, had this been applied to Jessie or if the entire movie was more Toy Story 2.5 instead of a final one unwinding the catharsis of Toy Story 3, this all might have played better for justification and continuance.

Let’s not kid ourselves. Of course, all the talent in the world is here. The movie looks and sounds like a billion bucks. That said, story and purpose matter more than prowess at this point. Throughout this entire series, this has always been about the over-dramatic Woody correcting a personal flaw first and anything else second. His nobility to always be there is incredibly honorable. All arcs lead to him and Toy Story 4 is truly a unique and daring transition point for that character. However, it is elevated, again, at the expense of his partner Buzz and the rest of the toys who once hand-in-hand bonded with shared fates. Tom Hanks can carry that moment, but the punch, the famed “Pixar Punch” this writer and website has long touted and celebrated, misses in a way that may perplex younger children and raise an eyebrow in the escorting adults asking why this matters.

LESSON #4: KNOWING TIMELINESS — The progression of Woody is what brings the second simplistic and prescriptive nugget over-hammered by Toy Story 4. Implored loudly in some moments and reflecting softly in others, the lament of knowing it’s time, knowing your time, or being ready for either state is overflowing in every direction towards Woody. It’s a high hurdle for the plastic protector and apparently one for the filmmakers themselves too who didn’t know when or how to leave this all be.

2 STARS

EXTRA CREDIT:

In an improvement over the Disney’s recent Marvel Cinematic Universe disc releases, the folks at Pixar double the batch.  The Blu-ray/DVD/Digital package you will find on the store shelves comes with a third disc entirely dedicated to more bonus features.  The additions, while nothing overly long for deep Peter Jackson-level examination, are handsome enough to be a keeper.

The first bonus selections come on the main disc housing the feature film.  The main piece is the full-length audio commentary. Director Josh Cooley is joined by producer Mark Neilsen.  With typical Pixar pluck, 100% of the discussion is showering positives with very little critique. They open with the biggest question all of us had when hearing about this fourth adventure: WHY.  The short and curt answer is “we had more story to tell.” Much of that assumed position of decision-making authority comes from Neilsen, spoken like a producer with his bankroll on the line. Often, Cooley is serving softballs and tossing bouquets like a director trying to impress the guy sitting next to him that signs his checks,

After the prerequisite promotional trailers (one for Pixar’s Onward and, of course, Frozen 2), the other special features on the main disc are a pair of easy featurettes.  “Bo Rebooted” proudly highlights the creative women (yes, women, there’s not a man in the picture) behind the development and performance of the reintroduced Bo Peep character.  Actress Annie Potts and the various animators speak on her redesign, agency, and new womanly independence. It’s an outstanding addition here. The second one is easy nostalgia entitled “Toy Stories.” Cast members and creators alike wax poetically about their favorite toys and shared life experiences with them.  It’s touching, but still quite short.

Over on bonus disc, the top carnival prize is the collection of “deleted scenes.”  I put that usual term in quotes because they are presented here in unfinished storyboard animatic form.  Introduced each time by Josh Cooley, most are fairly small shavings or shifts from existing scenes. The boldest one is the alternate ending to the movie entitled “She’s the One.”  It’s an enormous departure from the final cut and maybe even one some (including this writer) find to be better. That is MUST SEE!

Behind that, the usual pieces and parts are here between a repeat of the trailers, a posedown reel for app/game marketing, few included promos from other countries, and some animated set flyovers that would make for a nice screensaver if we all still used those.  The Toy Story series has always had a “Toy Box” roll call of little genesis vignettes for each of the new characters with the voice actors and creators.  The likes of Forky (Tony Hale), Duke Caboom (Keanu Reeves), and Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks) get the most time out of the 13-minute collection.  Keanu’s is absolutely aces. You would gladly watch 13 minutes on each character if you could, but something is better than nothing.  

The cherry on top there is an all-too-short little retrospective of the bond between Woody and Buzz.  Three-and-a-half minutes is not enough time to encapsulate their journey. Oddly, Tom Hanks and Tim Allen never share interview time for this feature.  The editing compiles parts from their packaged testimonial sessions. The impact and interest would have been far greater to put the two stars together and see the human chemistry match the animated stuff (unless, gasp, they don’t have any), especially if this is their last collaboration.

The most interesting bonus feature on this disc from a technical standpoint is the “Anatomy of a Scene: Playground” that runs nine-and-a-half minutes.  Devoid of talking head stars, supervisors and animation specialists walk viewers through the climactic scene where Woody reunites with Bo Beep for the first time and their ensuing escape.  The reactions and insights of the artists are excellent. They really go into the savvy technical details (and easter eggs) that go into this one scene, let alone the many that comprise the entire film.

The last and most unique bonus feature is a hammy segment called “Let’s Ride with Ally Maki.”  The voice of policewoman Giggle McDimples, the prolific actress engages in a scripted pinball tour behind-the-scenes of what it takes to get from the microphone to the screen.  This quick piece highlights the mountain of repetitive data collection and work from the dialogue room (script supervisor, director, head of story, actors, and recording engineers), editing room, and creative offices.  Both informative and humorous, this feature is a nice take on the length and volume of the recording arm of the animated process.

LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#829)

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[sundayeveningthoughts]

To Infinity and Beyond

Sunday Evening Thoughts

January 6, 2019

Dear Paul and Rachel,

                                          To Infinity and Beyond

                            In the beginning was the word... John 1: 1:1

       Modern Christian theologians (and ancient ones too I might add!) refer to the Gospel of John as the story of the Cosmological Christ. I think one fun way describe John’s introductory pronouncement “In the beginning…” is how Buzz Lightyear is remembered, “To infinity and beyond!”

       Thus, with Christmas come and gone, these are my observations of our trip to India for Tommy and Monica’s wedding ... to infinity and beyond! 

1. I’ve never been to South Asia, so with some intimidation (mainly fear of stomach disorders), I begin our journey to India. You must be flexible with international travel. Before we even left two months ago, our return flight was canceled. No biggie, just stay another day. But not all folks have that type of flexibility in their schedules as your Mom and I do. Folks working minimum wage jobs are fired for less. The day of departure our departing flight was canceled and rebooked six hours earlier. That wouldn’t work, but at the end of that first day, it all worked out. We got a new flight to London, refunded for the extra leg-room seat I purchased, in addition Mom and Paul got extra leg-room seats for free.

2. Seeing old friends in Frome, Somerset, England, a quaint old English town, was a delightful week break during travels. Frome had their yearly Christmas Tree Lighting with the youth and old folks singing many familiar Christmas Carols. Mom was in heaven with all the old English surroundings, especially our little Hobbit cottage, although I did hit my head not once or twice, but five times! (Damn, I’m a slow learner!) You must be flexible?

3. Thinking we had our India Visas all worked out many weeks ago, we were informed in London’s Heathrow International Airport as we checked-in that was not exactly correct. Still... we solved it — bending, but not breaking.

4. Writing this part in the air on our way to Chennai, India, I am thinking about your little brother Tommy, and his new bride, Monica. I couldn’t be more delighted than to have her as a daughter-in-law! As is typical in much of Hindu thinking, she fully incorporates every aspect of Tommy’s life and cultural background into every aspect of hers. Really, that is the best of description of Jesuit Christian theology — full enculturation. In other words, broadening the gospel of love and peace, not limiting it to simply a Western philosophy of dos-and-don’ts. A little historical note: the Jesuit’s got smacked by the Vatican in the 16th and 17th C for their enculturation of Hindu thinking into their philosophy in India, Buddhism in Korea, and Native American Animist thinking in South America (c.f. the movie The Mission with Robert DeNiro), but if you dig a bit deeper, you discover the Franciscans were jealous and had the pope’s ear. Broad thinking from the Jesuits! 

5. Sitting at the table after dinner with seven others our first night in India, I noticed all of the women refolded their napkins and placed it neatly next to their plates, none of the four men did. Is this natural? Sexist? Or just one of those odd statistical coincidences? What’s the phrase, “correlation not causation?”

6. When a young Bellhop Attendant, a full step below in the hierarchy of Bellhops, asked me for the nth time today, “How are you feeling?” in a clear effort to be nice and friendly, as he had been instructed in his Bellhop Attendant Training Program, I returned the same exact question to him, “How are YOU feeling today?” He was flummoxed, and didn’t know how to answer. Interesting!

7. The tradition of the washing of the feet is as easily understood in India as Israel. It’s very soothing after any excursion! And we had it done twice in India: Once by Tommy and Monica during a puja — a pre-wedding cleansing of the bride and sometimes groom, and again by Tommy only during the wedding. During the wedding it was more detailed: water rinsing, followed by a coconut milk rinsing, then uncultured yogurt, then a dash of ash, and lastly a touch of turmeric. Must keep those puppies smelling good! Sorry, bad joke.

8. The wedding ritual was fascinating and beautiful! So different from any Western wedding experience I’ve seen. First, it lasted three hours — obviously much longer than any Catholic wedding Mass, Protestant wedding service, or civil wedding. The wedding feast lasted another hour plus, with perfect South India cuisine, followed by an hour cocktail party, followed by two hours of dance music, then dinner, and more dancing. Whoo... I was bushed! Yet thrilled to get to know so many new, great Indian guys and gals. 

(Here is a cool video of the wedding and reception compliments of Young Gi Kim, a friend of Tommy and Monica’s)

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KnuF_0LGKCpIOFOIDYF7gMIPR_kdfd20/view

9. A hundred feet is a hundred miles. The day after the four-day wedding weekend we returned to center city Chennai and a new hotel — The Raintree. Very classy, modern, and definitely first class — greatly appreciated for the choice. If you can keep a secret, after a quiet, delightful dinner of just Mom and me, and a wonderful $50-bottle of Indian Cabernet-Shiraz from Sula Vineyards to celebrate the wedding and relax, Mom headed off to bed and I went for a stroll. Walking less than a hundred feet, I turned left and walked another hundred feet into a totally different world. Whole families living in 10 x 10 feet clapboarded houses with ten to twelve people, no plumbing, no electricity, and I’d bet no easily accessible toilets. Old people sleeping on the floor, with several little kids sleeping on the small sofa. I bought what I thought was a sealed bag of jalebi (sweet, deep-fried, light pretzels), but it turned out to be very hot-n-spicy potato rings. I gave them away to an old woman begging. Shhh, don’t tell your mom or Monica’s mom I even walked in this neighborhood!

10.   I dreamt about that neighborhood last night (I’m writing this the next day (Dec 11th). I woke up angry that these conditions even exist. The disparity of wealth in the world is obvious in those alleys. Why the disparity? Were my dreams telling me to make an offering to Lakshmi for them — the Goddess of Prosperity and Wealth? Or should I take some of my immense wealth (and everybody receiving this S.E.T. is comparatively immensely wealthy) and give it to Mother Teresa’s group in Kolkata, India The Missionaries of Charity? Or should I give it to your sister’s NGO employer Catholic Relief Services for her work with the displaced Rohingya in Bangladesh? One thing for certain, it is unJust (not a typo)!

11.   Over the years in almost every city I’ve visited, I have tried to jog in it. And center city Chennai was no different. Getting up early several days after the wedding, I joined in a line of dozens of folks I saw running early in the morning. (Note: it’s impossible to run after 8 a.m. — traffic.) I ran to a small park named Panagal Park that had a half dozen well-used, sweaty, pieces of industrial exercise equipment. I used them all and ran back to our hotel, showered, then headed to the airport for our North India tour of Agra, Jaipur, and Delhi.

12.   The flight was almost unremarkable, except for the sneezing, coughing, and typically cheap airline food. About halfway through the flight my stomach whispered:

Stomach: “Yo dude, what have you been doing?”

Brain: “What do you mean? I ate some different, spicy foods, ran in some air pollution on rough roads dodging a few piles of poop — both animal and human, and worked out on sweaty exercise equipment used by tens of thousands people daily. What’s wrong with that? Besides, it’s none of your business!”

Stomach: “Ok man, if you say so, but I’ve been hired to do my job, and I’ve got to start. Watch out!”

Brain: “Oh no, I better get in the lavatory line, pronto. Whew, made it!”

Five minutes pass...

Stomach: “Get back in line, now!”

Seven minutes pass…

Stomach: “Yep, line.”

This continues for three days, and includes no food, touring all over New Delhi (Old City Market), Agra (Taj Mahal), and Jaipur (wools and silks). As I write this section it is Day Five of our North India tour, Dec 15th, and I am 95% better! When I mentioned the need for flexibility in international travel at the beginning of this S.E.T., I forgot this aspect of flexibility. But, “All is good!” Clem Burns.

13.   We are heading to the airport at the completion of our 8-day North India tour. Here are a few uninspirational generalizations: Old City Delhi is crazy busy. Think Times Square squared! But I found Indians are very kind and patient when necessary, as Mom’s foot got stuck on a sharp wired-mesh grate while crossing the street. For a nanosecond, the whole city of Delhi stopped and several bystanders offered assistance. Very kind!

14.   Hinduism is as non-monolithic, as Judaism, Christianity, or Islam. Just as Jews today do not all believe the same tenets — nor in Jesus’ time (just read the four Gospels critically to see that); nor Christians today as exemplified by the theology of Rev. Robert Jeffries at Dallas Baptist Church and Jim Wallis of the Sojourners Community (or ever... remember the philosophical fight between Jesuits and Franciscans over what is means to be a Christian in India in 16th and 17th C (see John O’Malley, S.J. The History of the Jesuits from Ignatius to the Present); nor Muslims in head-coverings philosophy and dress, where it would be an apostasy if you did not wear the full burka in parts of central Pakistan and Afghanistan, but some American Muslim women certainly wear bikinis when on vacation at Nags Head in July (or ever... think of the conflict between Sunni and Shia starting shortly after Mohammad’s death and continuing until today); nor Hindus who, while they have a huge heart for acceptance, some still see some practices as preferable to others. My point is that not all Hindus believe the same, just as Jews, Christians, and Muslims to not either.

15.   India has the sixth largest GNP in the world, but not per capita, a better measurement in my opinion. But I believe India will be a major economic force within a generation. They simply need to control their population growth, which is soon to become the most populated country in the world. Young people in India are becoming more and more educated, especially women. This means they are more in tune with their reproductive health (read birth control). Of course like conservative Catholics and Protestants, rural conservative Hindus also think birth control is wrong for religious reasons; but unlike most conservative Catholics who eventually ignore the prohibition (about 92% and I think it’s actually higher), uneducated Hindu women continue to bear children. Give India a generation, and they will be a very strong economic power.

16.   We’ve visited numerous Hindu temples thus far: some beautiful and new like Swaminarayan Akshardham, with it’s exquisite carvings like the Il Duomo Di Milano in Milan, Italy, but the old Sikh temple in the heart of Old City Delhi that had three priests singing and playing their traditional instruments was nice. I found the singing quite refreshing — much like the Taize’ Prayer Service that Mom and I attend monthly at Christ and St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Norfolk. Very relaxing!

17.   We returned to Chennai three days ago for a much needed rest-and-relaxation respite. These recent days have been unremarkable except for my journey into the illicit markets. Oh wait, I better explain! We were invited to Raj’s (my son’s new father-in-law) home for dinner one night, so I thought some fresh-cut flowers for his wife Tara and a nice bottle of wine would be appropriate. Having seen many well-stocked wine stores in Delhi, I figured surely Chennai would have them too. Wrong! Chennai does not sell alcohol —  prohibited or just customary I am not sure. Nevertheless, already having a beer at Raj’s house one evening I knew wine must be out there. I step outside our hotel and question an “auto” driver (an auto is a small three wheeled cab that seats two people and the driver, and only goes about 15 mph) where to get local flowers and wine. (FYI: out of a million auto drivers in Chennai, I get the same one I’ll call Guido, with whom I had had a less than stellar experience earlier in the day.)

Guido: “I know where fresh flowers are.” And mentioned he could solve my dilemma.

       We drive several kilometers to a roadside flower vendor friend of Guido’s, but she is only selling jasmine flowers on a string, typically used for ceremonial purposes, and not what I wanted.

A friendly young woman customer was standing at our flower stall.

Friendly woman: “Fresh cut flowers are right around the corner only 20 meters away.”

Guido grunts: “Ugg,” clearly angry at the woman.

       And it was exactly what I wanted — fresh, beautiful yellow and red aromatic roses. Although the vendor did complain about me negotiating, “Damn Americans,” he mumbled in Tamil.

       Next Guido calls Uncle Sal for some wine, but he’s not around, so he takes me down to a cellar of small stores, one of which is selling cheap, gold-plated jewelry, and introduces me to Sonny the Jeweler.

Guido: “Sit here, and I’ll go find you some wine,” Guido insists, as he heads back up to daylight.

Sonny the Jeweler: “Where you from?” Sonny inquires, as he videotapes our conversation on his cell phone.

Me: “America,” I answer, “near Washington, D.C.”

Sonny the Jeweler: “American has Trump,” he remarks, as if it’s a sexually transmitted disease.

Sonny the Jeweler: “You like Trump?” clearly baiting me.

Me: “Not so much,” I respond. “You like Moti?” (The current Indian Prime Minister and a bit of a Hindu Nationalist.)

Sonny the Jeweler: “No,” Sonny laughs, “kind of like Trump.”

We make small talk for another 15 minutes, and I change the topic to wine and liquor.

Guido suddenly returns: “Uncle Vinny has wine, but it’s a 30-minute auto ride. We need to go quickly!”

Immediately my street antennas go up, “Careful Tommy,” I’m thinking.

Me: “Better not Guido,” I casually said, “My family is waiting for me back at the hotel. They’ve been texting.”

Disappointed, Guido gets ready to take off, but remembers,

Guido: “How about homemade vodka and after-dinner liquor?”

Sonny and I had already chatted about local homemade liquors brewed in the neighborhood.

Me: “Why not,” I reason, “You only live once. Let’s go for it!” But only spoke, “Ok.”

Guido: “You sit here in the auto, and give me 1,000 rupees,” Guido remarked, “They will charge you more.” But quickly said, “Better give me 1,500.”

Long story short, Guido returns — with change, and later that night all of the men, and Misha, drank the homemade liquor, and it fact it was wonderful! (FYI: A bottle of local vodka and homemade liquor ended only costing about 1,000 rupees — about 12 bucks U.S.)

18. Go West young man, go West! The sign in the lobby of our motel in Tiruvannamalai in western India says, “Silence is also conversation.” I like that! We are in phase four or five (I’ve lost count) of our journey “to infinity and beyond.” I confess that next to the wedding, this is the part of the journey I am most excited. Why? Raj is from a small village about 10 miles from here named Pudur. Tiruvannamalai is also famous for a large Hindu temple built around 800 CE and dedicated to Shiva. For many Westerners, it is also famous because this is where Sri Ramana settled. He is a well-known yogi in both Great Britain and America. We visited both the temple (with political connections and walked to the front of the two thousand people line) and the Sri Ramana Ashram where Sri Ramana lived. Tomorrow is a full moon, and the Tiruvannamalai temple has a tradition of tens of thousands of people visiting the temple on the full moon in November and December and walking a 14 km trek around a sacred mountain — Arunachala — on which the temple is located and named. We opted for just the temple visit... and delicious, sweet coffee from a small street shop a block away. There is a pleasant, peaceful pawl in this town.

19. Raj told us that when he was a kid his father journeyed from their village, Pudur, into town every four months to sell their excess crops — mainly rice, peanuts, and tobacco. He left in the early evening in his bull-led cart so that he could arrive early the next morning in Tiruvannamalai. Amazing!

20. Pudur is everything I hoped! I admit I am a sucker for the life of yesteryear — but only in a romantic sense, not objectively. Small farm life in India in the late 50’s was not an easy life. Having to sit under a Eucalyptus tree in 112 degrees to study Calculus is not easy, as Raj did for many years when it was too hot at that time of day to work his father’s one-and-a-half acre farm. Yep, you read that correct, his dad’s farm was one-and-a-half acres. My yard is almost an acre! I could describe Raj’s childhood experiences, but perhaps its best to let your imagination run... and you’re close.

21. About ten years ago Mom, Marie, and I participated in the Festival of the Holy Cross in Forza d’Agro in Sicily. In Sicily we simply jumped-in as they marched throughout the little town, stopping every two hundred yards to recite prayers in Latin that no one understood except for me. Tonight is the full moon festival, and according to Wikipedia an estimated 1,000,000 people march in Tiruvannamalai in honor of Shiva. Raj and I walked only 1 km before we stopped by one of the many street vendors. This guy was grinding fresh sugar cane, pouring the remains a few times through filters before serving us the sweet, pure-sugar drink — 15 rupees (about 20-cents). It was a cool, new experience participating in “the million man march.”

22. We returned to Chennai for only a couple of days before we flew to the mountains of India in the Southwest for several days. The highlight of the mountain excursion for me was a tour of a small tea factory 200 yards from our home. Delighted to give us a detailed tour of how fresh tea is processed, the factory supervisor and several of the workers stopped at the end, and we all shared cups of delicious and refreshing lemon tea. Honestly, I’ve never had such a refreshing cup of tea. Quick impression: those dudes and dudettes work their butts off!

23. Heading home... beyond infinity. It’s been a wonderful five weeks, but like most good experiences, they come to an end. Final impression: India is fun and exiting! But remembering the purpose of this trip — Tommy and Monica’s wedding, I am delighted she is part of our family. As I spoke at the wedding, “Monica is bright, beautiful, and balanced.” ... or as I botched the phrase speaking in Tamil, the local language in South India, “Monika romba budhisaali pen, alazzhu-allagu pen, & romba thelivana pen.”

     Have a good week...

     Love,

     Dad

[radiohorizon]

5 million years later...

1.Who was the last person you held hands with? Romantically, Emily. Friendwise, Arin or Annabelle i cant remember 
2. Are you outgoing or shy? Depends on who I’m around. If I’m comfortable in the situation, I’m outgoing but if I’m not im the shyest person ever 
3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My baby cousin whos like 3 weeks old😍 
4. Are you easy to get along with? Extremely 
5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Uh i hope so? Idk I’ve never been in the situation 
6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Kind, sarcastic assholes, who have my weird ass sense of humor and adore animals 
7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? I have no idea🤷🏼‍♀️ 
8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? My best friend. He’s going through a really hard time and I don’t know how to help him feel better 
9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Depends on the context and people I’m having the conversation with 
10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Bea. She always lets me vent tf out and always gives the greatest advice, even if I don’t wanna hear it 
11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “Sorry bud😉” 
12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Missing Teeth- Vanity Theft Smokestacks- Layla Open Hands- Ingrid Michaelson Saturn- Sleeping At Last Castle- Halsey 
13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Yesssss😍 
14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Absofreakinglutely 
15. What good thing happened this summer? Vacation with Katie and Kristy; met Bea 
16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? I mean probably. We kissed and it didn’t mean anything, it was more for fun than anything else 
17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Heck yeah. Lightyears of planets and other galaxies? No way we’re here alone 
18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Yeah kinda. We aren’t that close and I don’t really care to be lmao 
19. Do you like bubble baths? Love them😍 
20. Do you like your neighbors? For the most part yes. 
21. What are you bad habits? Picking at the skin around my nails and biting my cheek with im anxious or bored; not letting go; trusting easily; eating too much; not taking care of myself; selfharm 
22. Where would you like to travel? Across the country; the dead sea; egypt; hawaii; Cancun; Australia; basically anywhere 
23. Do you have trust issues? Horrible trust issues 
24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Seeing my cat 
25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? Honestly i dont know. I have issues with my stomach, back, butt, boobs, thighs, calves, wrists, arms, fingers, ankles, face, chest. Basically anywhere there is fat and/or acne and/or stretch marks and/or scars 
26. What do you do when you wake up? Go on my phone, brush my hair, brush my teeth and then whatever comes next 
27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Darker. I’m pale as shit 
28. Who are you most comfortable around? Probably Bea or Stevie 
29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Yeah, 1. And then she continued to ignore me and treat me like shit so🤷🏼‍♀️ 
30. Do you ever want to get married? Yep! In my back yard with my dad as the dude who marries me and my future wife and gives me away 
31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Heck yeah boi 
32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Ruby Rose and Mila Kunis 
33. Spell your name with your chin. Herg (Beth) 
34. Do you play sports? What sports? Dance (10 years), Cheer(2 years) and soccer (maybe 5 years) 
35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Without TV hands down 
36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yeppers 
37. What do you say during awkward silences? “Uhhhhhh” or just laugh awkwardly or “why is it so quiet” 
38. Describe your dream girl/guy? 🤷🏼‍♀️ honestly just want someone that’s kind and strong willed and has a big heart and loves cats as much as me. My “type” literally doesn’t exist so 
39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Kohls, Ross, HotTopic, Rue 21, Forever 21, Big Lots, Macy’s 
40. What do you want to do after high school? College and then Police Academy 
41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? 100% but not everyone deserves a 3rd 
42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I’m super upset and probably feel nauseous and shaky and am about to start crying or go into an anxiety attack or something. Or im just tired as fuck 
43. Do you smile at strangers? Yeppers 
44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Bottom of the ocean 
45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Anxiety of failing school 
46. What are you paranoid about? Losing the people I love to the same issues I have dealt with 
47. Have you ever been high? Yeeep 
48. Have you ever been drunk? Noooope 
49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Not that I can think of? 
50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Red 
51. Ever wished you were someone else? Yes, a lot actually 
52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? My body 
53. Favourite makeup brand? Lorac 
54. Favourite store? Ross or Kohls 
55. Favourite blog? Humans of New York 
56. Favourite colour? Dark Purple 
57. Favourite food? Cheeseburger or red peppers 
58. Last thing you ate? Ice cream 
59. First thing you ate this morning? Toast 
60. Ever won a competition? For what? No but I got 2 in gymnastics when i was 8😌 
61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Nopee 
62. Been arrested? For what? Nopee 
63. Ever been in love? Yeppers and kinda scared of it happening again🤷🏼‍♀️ 
64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? First peck kiss was during my choir concert in a literal closet with my then girlfriend with a bunch of my friends circling around us so no one would see First kiss kiss was with my then crush and it was so not expected but super romantic so 
65. Are you hungry right now? Not reallg 
66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? I dont really have tumblr friends that arent my real friends so no? 
67. Facebook or Twitter? Tweeter 
68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr 
69. Are you watching tv right now? Yeah actually lol 
70. Names of your bestfriends? Katie, Kristy, Andrew, Elizabeth, Abby, Beatrice, Hailey, Kyle, Annabelle, Tyler 
71. Craving something? What? Pink Lemonade 
72. What colour are your towels? Multicolors 
72. How many pillows do you sleep with? 1 but used to sleep with 2 
73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Yepp. A teddy bear the twins gave me in 1st grade, a puppy from my mom when I was born, a unicorn, a kitty and a Pegasus unicorn kitty named Puck 
74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? A shit ton 
75. Favourite animal? Monkey or cats 
76. What colour is your underwear? Olive green 
77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate and vanilla swirl 
78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Cookies and cream 
79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Black 
80. What colour pants? Black 
81. Favourite tv show? NCIS or Criminal Minds or Shameless or the OLD scoobydoo, none of that new bullshit 
82. Favourite movie? Chitty chitty band bang 
83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Mean girls 
84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls 
85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Gretchen 
86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Crush 
87. First person you talked to today? Bea 
88. Last person you talked to today? Lacey 
89. Name a person you hate? No one 
90. Name a person you love? My momma 
91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? #fucktrump and this bitch at school but not gonna cause it aint worth it 
92. In a fight with someone? Nope 
93. How many sweatpants do you have? Like 3 
94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? About 3 that i wear, but a lot that dont fit me anymore 
95. Last movie you watched? The Remains 
96. Favourite actress? Jennifer Lawrence 
97. Favourite actor? Josh Hucherson or Gerard Butler 
98. Do you tan a lot? Not at all. Only burn so theres no point 
99. Have any pets? 2 cats and 1 puppy 
100. How are you feeling? Tired, alone, but a little happier 
101. Do you type fast? Ye but im shit at it 
102. Do you regret anything from your past? Certain things with my ex, and not starting cheer sooner but other than that no 
103. Can you spell well? HA no 
104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yes, a few people 
105. Ever been to a bonfire party? No but i wish): 
106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Not that i know or 
107. Have you ever been on a horse? Mhm 
108. What should you be doing? Sleeping 
109. Is something irritating you right now? My wrist hurts like a bitch and this person is ignoring me like i never existed so there’s that 
110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Yepp 
111. Do you have trust issues? Lol yes 
112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Abby 
113. What was your childhood nickname? Beth 
114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yeah 
115. Do you play the Wii? Not really 
116. Are you listening to music right now? No 
117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Ew no 
118. Do you like Chinese food? Heck yeaaah😍 
119. Favourite book? Yo this is impossible to answer 
120. Are you afraid of the dark? Yeah fuck that shit but also cant sleep unless its completely dark?? 
121. Are you mean? No i dont think so 
122. Is cheating ever okay? Nope 
123. Can you keep white shoes clean? Lol no 
124. Do you believe in love at first sight? Sorta kinda 
125. Do you believe in true love? Yes 
126. Are you currently bored? Yeeeep 
127. What makes you happy? Little random things. Finding a good book, getting a compliment, shaving, random presents even if it seems little or insignificant, seeing my parents together 
128. Would you change your name? No. Ive grown to love and cherish it 
129. What your zodiac sign? Pisces 
130. Do you like subway? Not really 
131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? Already been through that🙄 tell them how I feel and respect their feelings 
132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? Bea 
133. Favourite lyrics right now? “Open hands are hard to hold onto anyway” 
134. Can you count to one million? No way 
135. Dumbest lie you ever told? “No mom i didnt get into your makeup or perfume!” As i had her makeup smeared on my face and i smelled like a brothel 
136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Teeny bit open so my cat can get in and out but preferred closed 
137. How tall are you? A whopping 5ft 1 
138. Curly or Straight hair? On me? Straight/curly/wavy friss mess On others? Dont have a preference 
139. Brunette or Blonde? On me? Light brunette, wish i still had blonde hair 
140. Summer or Winter? Summer 
141. Night or Day? Night 
142. Favourite month? Probably may or july or October 
143. Are you a vegetarian? No but i respect everyone that is 
144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Milk 
145. Tea or Coffee? Coffee 
146. Was today a good day? I mean it wasnt bad but nothing made it good so i guess sure? 
147. Mars or Snickers? Snickers 
148. What’s your favourite quote? Lose the battle win the war 
149. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes 
150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line Theres literally no books around me rn and im sad about it

@lovestream-dreams

#asks

[christinesumpmg1]

14 Lessons From Our Content Marketing Conference

I’ve been to a lot of content marketing conferences, and I finally got to see one from the inside out.

Last week, the Convince & Convert team partnered with our friends at Uberflip to produce and host CONEX: The Content Experience.

750 content marketers joined us in Toronto, including many Convince & Convert readers, clients, and fans. Thank you!

It was a fantastic experience, and I can’t wait for the next edition of CONEX: The Content Experience (which will be August 20-22, 2019)

I learned a lot about hosting and co-producing a content marketing conference, as well as some new ideas from our lineup of amazing speakers. But instead of just passing along my own recollections and notes, I thought it would be more interesting to provide my favorite tweets from CONEX, so you can see what real attendees thought of each speaker. Tweets are presented in chronological order.

IMPORTANT NOTE: You can watch the livestream of the event here: https://contentexperience.uberflip.com/live-stream-2018/

No More Random Acts of Content

Karine Bengualid picked this up from our very own Anna Hrach (a strategist here at C&C) who ran an outstanding pre-conference workshop on how to create the ultimate editorial calendar. (note: We will be offering this material as an online course this Fall).

No more random acts of content! #conex @annabananahrach @convince @Uberflip

— Karine Bengualid (@KarineBen) August 20, 2018

Content Success is About Remixing the Content

The theme of the CONEX content marketing conference was “Remix” and several speakers talked about repackaging content, and merchandising it better for content consumers. This trend was kicked off by Uberflip CMO and co-founder Randy Frisch, in his opening keynote. Kevin Webb tweeted this concept from Randy’s talk.

Marketing’s ability to remix the right content makes or breaks the content experience @randyfrisch #conex pic.twitter.com/7Od8LGJIfv

— Kevin Webb (@KevinWebb) August 21, 2018

Viral Means Nothing

My old pal Scott Stratten brought some thunder to the opening keynote and indicted the entire notion of trying to go viral with content marketing and social media. Yvonne Tsui tweeted one of many quotable Stratten-isms. (listen to Scott on the Social Pros podcast)

Vanity viral aka the great social reach around. It feels good, it means nothing. If it doesn’t move the needle it doesn’t matter. @unmarketing #ConEx #contentmarketing

— Yvonne Tsui (@life_of_Y) August 21, 2018

The Best Content Marketing Experiences Have 4 Ingredients

A highly relevant presentation from Nate Skinner of Pardot was next up on the agenda. I hadn’t heard this framework from Nate before, and I really liked his construct. So did Alex Fasken, who also grabbed a photo of the accompanying slide.

“The best experiences have 4 ingredients: entertainment, education, escapism and aesthetic” @renniksn @Uberflip #Conex pic.twitter.com/yaQJqL12Jd

— Alex F (@alexfasken) August 21, 2018

Behavior Change Starts with Perception

Tamsen Webster is on fire. She’s a content coach and idea whisperer who’s Red Thread system is being used by more and more executives and professional speakers to add clarity to their messaging. (disclosure: she’s worked with me) Tamsen brought her ideas to the stage at CONEX too and had a big impact on Madison Harbin and many other attendees.

“You can’t change WHAT people do without changing HOW they see it”. Great session @tamadear #CONEX pic.twitter.com/qHRvOXa2uA

— Madison Harbin (@Mads_Harbs) August 21, 2018

Content Is Critical at All Stages

As I mentioned in my introduction of him (I was the emcee at CONEX: The Content Experience) Carlos Abler of 3M may be the smartest bald guy I know. Or perhaps he’s the smart guy with the least hair. Either way, he knows a LOT about content. He brought a ton to the stage at the event, especially his ideas about content at every stage of the customer journey. Stephanie Totty tweeted about it.

“There is never a touch point in the customer experience when content is not involved – it’s a complex journey and relationship that requires thoughtful setup.” @carlos_abler #conex

— Stephanie Totty (@Tottums) August 21, 2018

Honest and Transparent Content Creates Customers

This may be the quintessential quote from a Marcus Sheridan presentation. Marcus preached the gospel of no b.s. content at CONEX, and had the audience transfixed, as usual. Nice .gif usage here from Katrina Couto! (Listen to Marcus on the Social Pros podcast)

“Honest and transparent content is the greatest sales and trust-building tool in the world.” – Marcus Sheridan, @TheSalesLion#CONEX @Uberflip pic.twitter.com/TRnj8ow8Vt

— Katrina Couto (@KatrinaMktg) August 21, 2018

Time to Play the Feud

One of the highlights of our particular content marketing conference is The Content Feud, which closes out day one.  Inspired by Family Feud, we pit content marketing strategists against content marketing practitioners in a five-round quiz show, with me as the host. In a nail-biter that went down to the last question, the strategists (captained by Ann Handley) retained their title.

Fun way to keep up w/ marketing trends, content, digital & more at @Uberflip’s Content Feud #conex pic.twitter.com/K7j7toKBx7

— Lara Martinez (@LAMKVH) August 21, 2018

Customer Retention is the New Marketing

As anticipated, a tremendous day two opening keynote from Joey Coleman, whose book “Never Lose a Customer Again” may be my favorite business book so far this year. Joey also co-hosts the awesome ExperienceThis! show that we used to produce via Convince & Convert Media. Thinking through retention-based content resonated with Melanie Persaud. (Listen to Joey on the Social Pros podcast)

Customer retention! The next frontier in marketing? “We’re not just here for you in the beginning, we’re here for you all the way through.” #conex @thejoeycoleman pic.twitter.com/MPvOFgQ5BJ

— Melanie Persaud (@Melanie_Per) August 22, 2018

Social Video Isn’t TV

The delightful Caitlin Angeloff runs global social at Docusign and brought a supremely relevant and tactical presentation about social video, especially Facebook Live, to the CONEX event. Demand Gen Report tweeted one of Caitlin’s key points, about the real-time interactivity of social video. (Listen to Caitlin on the Social Pros podcast)

“Social video should NOT be a mistake for TV. Television doesn’t let you interact with your audience. Facebook does.” –@caitlinangeloff of @DocuSign #conex pic.twitter.com/wES4txgz9W

— Demand Gen Report (@DG_Report) August 22, 2018

Engage Buyers on Their Terms, Not Yours

Laura Ramos from Forrester delivered tremendous advice rooted in new research. Her talk centered on empathetic content: being prospect/buyer focused instead of company focused. Brandi Smith grabbed this photo and Tweet.

Great advice @lauraramos from @forrester. Engage buyers on their terms, not yours. Provide the right level of access and personalization based on where they are in the buyers journey #conex pic.twitter.com/nh4I5v6uGR

— Brandi Smith (@brandismith01) August 22, 2018

Create More Content Without Actually Creating More Content

Corinne Sklar is the super smart CMO of Bluewolf, and shared her concept of “Plucking the Chicken” at CONEX. What she means by that is that if you have a piece of content, if you keep plucking, you can create several other iterations and version of that content, boosting content efficiency. We call that “atomization” here at C&C, but I like a good chicken metaphor, as does Deirdre Buckingham (who won a return trip to next year’s CONEX during the event).

How can we extend our content and keep it going… without creating MORE content? #PluckTheChicken

@csklar #Conex pic.twitter.com/mmpPltZTyw

— Deirdre Buckingham (@dlaubuck) August 22, 2018

Don’t be Clever. Be Vulnerable

I wore a Buzz Lightyear outfit when I introduced Matthew Luhn, a legendary storyteller from Pixar.

A post shared by Jay Baer (@jaybaer) on Aug 22, 2018 at 9:13am PDT

With that less-than-ordinary lead-in, Matthew took the stage at CONEX and blew us away with heart and poignancy. His advice that content marketers are trying to get too cute was spot-on. His talk really resonated, including with Function 1, who grabbed this great photo in their tweet.

Storytelling advice from Pixar’s @matthewluhn: “Don’t be clever. Be vulnerable and honest.” #ConEx pic.twitter.com/Q7bXAzmZ8b

— Function1 (@function1corp) August 22, 2018

Ignoring Video is the Avoided Handshake of 2018

Amy Landino brought a warm, story-filled approach to her presentation on the importance of video content. She emphasized video’s ability to build community, and also shared her own formula for creating authority videos. Super useful! Dionne Mischler grabbed this photo from the balcony at the Royal Conservatory of Music, in Toronto. (Listen to Amy on the Social Pros podcast)

“Ignoring video is the avoided handshake of 2018.” Schmittastic #conex pic.twitter.com/dSN3MXSHUs

— Dionne Mischler (@MischlerDionne) August 22, 2018

Bridge the Curiosity Gap to Create Content Success

The legendary Andrew Davis delivered a hilarious and important keynote presentation about curiosity and delayed gratification, poking holes in the “audience is too distracted” excuse for poor content performance. Watch this one on the live stream: you’ll be glad you did! Mo Waja was on the scene to capture this tweet.

Earning attention means bridging the Curiosity Gap between what your audience knows and what they want to know. @DrewDavisHere #Conex pic.twitter.com/V7E81dE1HB

— Mo Waja (@iammowaja) August 22, 2018

Mobile isn’t for Serving Content it’s for Utility

Bonin Bough is the former head of digital of Pepsico and the former global head of media and digital for Mondelez. Bonin closed out Conex: The Content Experience with a roaring keynote that reminded attendees that mobile can (and should) do a lot more than it’s doing today, in most cases. Maya Chendke was paying close attention!

Mobile isn’t a medium to serve content, it should create utility. @boughb talking through crazy #mobile realities. #CONEX #mobilemarketing #contentmarketing

— Maya Chendke (@mayachendke) August 22, 2018

That’s a wrap. 14 lessons from our content marketing conference. You may have your own takeaways. Watch the on-demand livestream and see for yourself. It’s free!

Huge thanks to everyone at Convince & Convert and Uberflip for their work on the event. And massive thanks to all the speakers, sponsors, and attendees.

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#14 Lessons From Our Content Marketing Conference

[sixtheseventh]

Cryogenics and Cybernetics

The question is, in regard to both of these areas essentially is; How do we extend human life? Certainly it is obvious in terms cryogenics, considering that it can be defined as the capacity to preserve the human body beyond death, beyond illness, or at the very least, beyond the limits that the speed of light presents us with. It is a bit more complicated with cybernetics considering the overt reason is not to extend life for whatever varied reason, but rather to improve the existing human frame for whatever perceived deficiency. In that sense, growing old, deteriorating and eventually perishing as a result of the failings of medical science against being slowly replaced by artificial parts like Theseus’ boat is essentially the same. The only difference, it would seem, is the amount of time.

Cryogenics offers an escape from death after the fact, or for reasons of escaping death such as extended periods of unavoidable discomfort, such as space travel, but not limited to even prison sentences. Imagine if you could serve a multiple life-sentence as easy as you could a trip to the nearest extra-solar planet? What happens to the mind in a prolonged state of cryo-sleep? Oftentimes a normal dream feels like it takes several hours. What reason is there that a sleep that lasts five years or more wouldn’t feel, to the ‘experiencer’ like dozens? This would make it ideal both for interstellar travel as well as for correctional punishment. After all, we don’t want to shock survivors to a distant planet with instantaneous travel. Imagine one second saying goodbye to your family, and the next waking up to a planet, lightyears away, with strange creatures, strange diseases, strange challenges, and a myriad of other challenges posed by a ‘new-earth’ sort of situation, including adapting to new food, new plants, new animals, new gravity, new air, new everything. If such a thing were to happen, and it will if you think that humans will ever go beyond this planet, then certainly our psychology is not adapted to experience it in an instant. Currently we can hardly cope with a change of domicile in less than a month, let alone travelling hundreds of trillions of miles in the blink of an eye.  

In regard to ‘mind-prisons’ I feel that it is equally as viable an opportunity for the field of cryogenics. For example, society as a whole, as an entity is not particularly fond of removing components for long periods of time, and simply for the reasons of inefficiency. It might work well to have small-time crooks such as people that rob gas stations and drink and drive do community service, but what about those people that commit crimes that garner multiple life sentences, or death sentences? Society as a whole is an unfeeling entity, it has no emotions, it simply is. It simply operates by its own logic, and just like a corporation whose sole purpose is to make money, society’s sole purpose is to facilitate human culture whilst trying to keep as many people within its system as happy as possible so as to ensure its own survival. In that sense, criminals who have life-sentences or who get the death-penalty are either blemishes on society’s face, or otherwise a waste of energy in the same way that a wisdom tooth is to any of us; we can’t help but produce them but they cause us pain and we don’t want them. What’s more, imagine if you could not only remove your wisdom teeth without pain, but repurpose them to improve your overall dental health? What if you could actually rehabilitate dangerous criminals to work toward the goals of society? I don’t know if such a thing is possible. I don’t know if you could take a person like Ted Bundy and keep him in a mind prison for what felt to him like 1000 years and ‘cure’ him, but what I do know for an absolute certain fact is that if we did have cryogenics that someone would try it. My evidence? We have no certainty that holding a criminal for 20 years in real time cures them, and yet we still do it. In fact, we have a lot of evidence to the contrary, which is that holding people in prisons in fact makes them better at crime, and not at living in society and all the while we still term prison as a ‘debt to society.’ On top of that, there are rather large incentives for the prison-industrial complex to think of manners of incarceration that are more acceptable for mainstream America, and they have the money to be one of the pioneers of the technologies that could ensure their survival. In other words: watch the 1993 movie ‘Demolition Man,’ but imagine it was directed by Christopher Nolan.

On the subject of cybernetics this is a move for humanity that is also in progress. In this case I do not view it initially as a technology that will extend human life, but rather make human life more durable. In that sense it will be limited for a long period of time to those that have dangerous jobs. Robotics have historically been pioneered by industries that required them for jobs that either demand the consistency or precision that humans require a lot of training and specialization for. The advent of industrialization as well as mass-manufacture assembly-line machinery has demanded that, because it is far more cost-efficient and easier to buy or construct an expensive machine, or a series of expensive machines than have a large human workforce, especially while humans are notoriously volatile even in the most draconian of systems. The question remains however, what will drive humanity to become more like the machines they have built? Beside the question is why would we seek to become like them, the answer to which is of course fairly obvious. Machines are less susceptible to environmental factors and can mitigate physical damage to a greater degree. If you peel the outer protective covering from your computer it will still function whereas humans tend to cease operating almost immediately, or seriously malfunction even after the most basic physical alterations or restorative procedures. Considering that we must next consider what application where cybernetic, or half-human, half-machine beings would be ideal for. The answer is space travel, where spikes of radiation, temperature, lack of proper atmosphere as well as the vast time periods that would have to be endured even under the most optimistic estimates of the speed of travel would not be a factor as much, or at all. If humanity is ever to go even beyond the relatively small confines of the solar system, then certainly it can be said that some form of half-human, half-machine will be required. Even then, it will in all probability be the offspring of several generations of humans that simply sent humans in their stead. If anything, even remotely similar to naked human eyes behold the vastness of the cosmos it will be in some way assisted by artificial or mechanical means.

In short, both cryogenics as well as cybernetics represent a possible path to the question of human longevity or even immortality. The variables are, whether or not humans eventually value being durable in the face of environmental factors in futures where we are travelling through deep-space or otherwise living in harsh environments. Or on the other hand, that we have a firmer grasp on how to heal the human body through medical science and or ‘freeze’ it until it can be repaired. I suspect it might be a mixture of the two, depending on what area you are talking about. Both are potential technological areas that might significantly extend the human life, or prolong it indefinitely.