#.....i know animals feel our emotions. roxy ...... i miss her ..... i miss her ...... i miss her so much.... i wish she didn't had to die... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catsofemma · 9 months

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sorry not sorry to say this, but stephanie is the epitome of adhd. let’s discuss.

• she’s very impulsive. she makes outrageous decisions on a whim. the first moment that comes to mind is when the girls are trapped in the building with the crazy robots and she realizes just how much danger her and the girls are in. so she immediately is like “IVE GOT THIS!” and attacks the robots to get to the temperature changer to stop the crazy robots. it’s moments like that where she’s like “LEAVE IT TO ME!” and does the most direct, intense thing. another moment is when they’re running up the stairs and she’s like “I WON!” and then they’re like “we need to find the door…” and she’s like “THAT ONE!” and then grabs the camera and goes “IM ON FIRE!” she’s just very bold and loud

• she has trouble sitting still. this isn’t just because she’s sporty and likes to be active, blah blah blah. no. she literally and physically cannot just sit there. when she has a broken leg and is restricted to being in bed, she feels very restless. she keeps looking at her phone, she appears to be very bored, she keeps getting up even though she knows she shouldn’t. it’s so bad that the girls have to intervene because they know she won’t get better. another moment is when they’re at the spa and she’s like “oh yeah, we had to put our phones away. gosh darn it.” and then finally finds room to relax and is like “ok maybe relaxing isn’t so bad” it’s just moments like those where i’m like dang… stephanie really can’t just sit there!

• she definitely has difficulty regulating emotions. the first thing that comes to mind is the fight between her and emma in season two. first off, why fight with emma? is it that serious? emma is a sweetie pie! just the littlest thing happened and stephanie just leans away from emma and struggles to be around her and deal with the situation. another is when the situation with her older sister, roxy, was happening and she felt overshadowed. rather than acknowledging this, she kinda just started pushing her friends away and didn’t care to deal with it. another is when zoe the robot points out that the girls aren’t really enjoying her cupcakes. stephanie gets really loud about it because she feels sad that the girls aren’t finding her cupcakes to be yummy. she either feels too little or too loud.

• difficulty acknowledging others emotions. stephanie is a tad socially awkward in my opinion, even though i’d say she leans more on the extroverted side. but the biggest thing is when she’s helping the sparkles, the team of little girl gymnasts, she cares more about fitting her own idea of “being a good coach” and “winning” than the fact that she was overworking these children and that her coaching wasn’t really an ideal fit for them. she had to have it pointed out to her that she just needed to let the girls have fun and that animals were a comfort presence to these kids. she very much gets in her own head that she just blocks out any outside factors.

• stephanie is a very fixated person. the proof lays in multiple areas. when it comes to sports and baking (or doing anything, really), she’s very determined to win. that’s just another trait in itself. but stephanie holds a lot of passion in doing her best. honestly, i should just make that a whole other bullet point. but anyways, during the baking competition, she puts too much energy into trying to win. when she was doing the extreme caking, she was very focused on it and even the slightest setback absolutely pissed her off. when olivia introduced the sports game to her when her leg was broken, she finally had something to do instead of being fidgety and restless. she was so into the game that she was missing out on cleaning and sleeping. it was so bad that the girls had to intervene. another example is when the girls were arriving at the airport to travel to the jungle, stephanie stated that she had been up all night specifically researching elephants and joked “ASK ME ABOUT THEM!” like??? she was so focused on the research she missed out on sleeping before a long day of traveling? damn girl!

• the passion and determination that stephanie holds is both a blessing and a curse. while she has a great sense of justice and is really good at pursuing things rather than giving up, it can be bad in the sense she blinds herself of other things and other factors. she’s a bit of a sore loser (i can only imagine how that trait was in childhood) and doesn’t accept anything less than victory. she will go to extreme measures to make sure this happens as well. she sets very high standards for herself and makes everything a challenge and competition. she was particularly mad when she kept losing against vicky and the other opponents during season one. again, when she was helping the sparkles gymnasts, she was so determined to win that she blocked out the problems her passion was creating and was unhappy with second place. of course, anyone would want to win something they’ve worked hard towards, but it’s a problem when you are like stephanie where you are visibly and extremely unhappy when you don’t get your way and make it a problem for yourself and everyone else.

#i may or may not almost be done with a youtube video about this #what can i say? i’m a woman of passion #lego friends #lego friends girls on a mission #stephanie #💛rant post #💙headcanons

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

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(Prompt) Luke and roxy helping JJ get over her fear of dogs

The first time Luke invited everyone over to his place for dinner, he mentioned in the text that his dog, Roxy, would be there. When JJ texted back that unfortunately she couldn't make it, he figured she just had other plans, and didn't think much of it.

After the fourth time, though, he finally confronts her about it at work.

"Is it something I did?" he asks, cornering her in her office at the end of the day.

"Is what... What?" JJ asks, confused.

"You never come to team dinners at my place," he says. "At first I thought you were just really busy, but now it seems like you're deliberately avoiding me and I was just wondering if I did something wrong, or..."

"No!" JJ exclaims. "No, Luke, that's not it at all. I'm so sorry. It's-- it's a little embarrassing."

"You know I won't judge you, JJ."

"It's just... I'm afraid of dogs?" she says sheepishly. "I haven't always been, but there was this case several years ago, and I ended up in this barn with these dogs, and they were... I had to shoot them to keep them from... There was this woman, and they had..."

Luke quickly walks up to her and puts his arms around her, squeezing her tight as her eyes glaze over, remembering, reliving.

"You're safe," he says. "You're in your office. I'm right here with you. Everything's okay. You're safe. I promise."

She comes out of it quickly, blushing and apologizing.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Luke says. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I hate it, though," JJ says angrily. "I hate that I'm scared of dogs. I used to love dogs. I want my kids to be able to have a dog..."

"Do you think you'd like to meet Roxy sometime?" Luke asks. "Just you and me and her, on your terms. She's very kind and gentle. She's trained as an emotional support animal, and she knows how to handle trauma. She won't bark or jump or anything. And you'd be free to leave at any time."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course I would. I'd do that for anyone. What do you say?"

"I'll try," she says, and smiles.

The next afternoon, she rings Luke's doorbell nervously. He answers the door alone and invites her inside.

"Roxy's outside," he says. "We can let her in when you're ready. Do you want to stand by the window and watch her for a little while first maybe?"

"Okay," JJ says, and she watches Roxy laze in the sun, then get up and run around for a few minutes before investigating a patch of flowers.

"She's a sweetie," Luke says. "And she loves everyone. Are you ready for me to let her in?"

JJ nods, and Luke slips outside with a leash. He hooks it to Roxy's collar and pulls her very close, then walks inside with her as JJ backs away slightly. Roxy doesn't pull, she just sits calmly at Luke's feet.

"Roxy, this is our friend JJ. JJ, this is Roxy."

Nobody moves as they examine one another, but Luke notices as JJ starts to relax at Roxy's calm presence.

"Would you like to pet her?" he asks. "I'll be holding her the whole time."

JJ reaches forward hesitantly, and when Roxy doesn't lunge at her or bark or open her mouth, JJ pats her on the head. After a moment, she pets her for real, and Roxy sits calmly the whole time.

"Do you feel comfortable with me taking her off the leash?" Luke asks. "It's okay if you don't."

"No, I... Yeah. It's okay. Go for it," JJ says.

He removes the leash slowly, instructing Roxy to stay, and she does. JJ reaches forward unprompted to pet her again, first with one hand, then two.

"She's a good girl, isn't she?" she says to Luke, then turns back to Roxy. "You're such a good girl. Such a good, beautiful girl."

She looks back up at Luke. "This is the first time I've touched a dog in almost 10 years," she says, tears in her eyes. "It feels good. Thank you."

"I'm proud of you," Luke says. "Roxy, too. So, you're coming to the next team dinner I host, right?"

JJ grins. "Wouldn't miss it."

#cw ptsd #jennifer jj jareau #luke alvez #maya writes more than 5 sentences #luke's dog is named roxy #maya's bau animal collection

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bahrlee · 4 years

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Suck the Blood to my Wound - Beok AU

Hello LGBTQ+ community it is chapter time

🦇🦇🦇Chapter 23: The Okay Summer🦇🦇🦇

Summer was coming to a glorious climax. People started leaving their summer homes in town and driving or flying back to wherever they came from. The sun was starting to inch it's way to the other side of the earth at an earlier time. Though he had friends to distract him, the dread in the back of his mind was present. Sure, the weather will stay the same. It was much different than its impact up north where the snow caked everything in sight and melted into cold water into your shoes and onto the roads, eroding the cement and creating potholes that are shotily filled with tar, snow shoveled up into dirty, muddy piles on the side of the road, and freezing dogs feet to the point where they limp back inside, shivering. Yet he still felt the pain of the mere existence of a fall and a winter. The days were shorter, and that's all that mattered to him. The nightmares were worse. Things that were sad were even sadder. Things that were scary were now terrifying, and things that concerned him turned him into a paranoid mess.

Then, all of a sudden, September First. Right there, on his calendar in big blocky letters right above a picture of a tree with a tire swing hanging off from one of the branches. He let out his first defeated sigh of this era. He wasn't there yet, the sun was just out long enough to keep him out of this miserable rut, but it was soon. Very soon. He felt it right behind him.

"Beach, are you okay?" Dook asked him when seeing him on this day, the way he looked down at the floor with a hopelessness Dook didn't get to see on him yet.

He shrugged, unable to really describe the feeling of impending emptiness. "Just the seasons changing, that's all. And I still miss Roxy."

Dook nodded. At least with the sun setting, they had a little more time they could spend together. The streetlights were just turning on, the sky a bluish violet, the stars beginning to blink through the ominous grey clouds overhead. They didn't really know what they were doing, but that was something they always figured out along the way. Walking together, was all they wanted to do, holding hands, talking, and laughing. Getting their mind off of things.

"You're not a big fan of change, are you?" He said.

He shook his head yes. "I get so used to things when they're one way, that it's hard sometimes to do it another. I've gotten better, but sometimes I can't help but want to scream about it."

"It's hard, yeah." Dook sighed. "You didn't seem like the anxious type when I first met you."

"I…. Get that quite a bit."

They swung their locked hands back and forth, picking up their pace a little bit. A car trundled by and turned a corner. Neon red and blue 'open' signs were beginning to flicker off as places began to close. Tonight was a very humid night, a definite sign it was going to rain soon. And here they were, outside, surrounded by close or closing buildings, with no umbrella. It was no surprise to them when it started to sprinkle. Then, the rain started to grow heavy, causing them to run, in a mess of giggles, in search of a place to hide under.

They found a place under an awning, soaked and out of breath. They were quiet for a long moment---the two watched it rain, their hands still intertwined. Beach turned to Dook, his eyes clouded and unfocused.

"I like the rain." Dook said quietly.

"We needed it."

"Yeah, we did."

Beach unhooked their hands and put his arm around Dooks waist. It was different, touching someone when their clothes were wet, and sticking to their skin, and when their hair was damp and frizzing. Maybe because they were cold (which in this case Dook was even colder) and shivering, and so touching felt different. It was, overall, just a different experience. He felt Dook lean his head on his shoulder. "This is the first uh…. Kinda decent summer I've had in awhile."

"Really?"

"I-I mean---yeah, I met you, I got away from Rolfe a couple of times, this summer has been…. Okay."

"Hard to have an okay summer when you can't really go into the sun." Beach remarked.

"....true." Dook said. "But I'd rather focus on what happened that was good. There are things that would've made it better, but if okay is all I can get, I'm taking it."

"You deserve a better summer." Beach said, leaning his head down on top of his. "I'd give you a better summer if I could."

"You already have."

"An even better one, then."

The sound of the rain patting against the fabric of the awning and the water pouring out of the gutters filled their ears as they watched another car go by, a tire sloshing through a puddle building up in the curb. The rain felt like it would never stop, but that was okay for them.

🦇🦇🦇

Mitzi rushing into his house, unnerved, was always a warning sign. "I found a dead member of my pod nearby…" she squeaked. "They were bleeding out, in their sea form, they had salt all over them….I dragged them into the ocean and back home, for my aunts to take care of it. But…"

"Oh no, Mitzi, I'm sorry...." Beach said.

"I wish we couldn't sense each other like this. I wish our disguises were used to hide from them, too. But whatever, senses give it away, and someone I know ends up dead."

"Are you sure it was Rolfe?" He asked.

"Well if it were Dook he'd have a lot of explaining to do, hes squeamish. Rolfes a wimp, but he's proven to be a cold hearted killer." Her hands were shaking her eyes couldn't focus on one thing, shifting everywhere as her mind grappling with the unadulterated fear she was feeling. "I'm really scared, what if he finds my aunts? What if he kills them too?"

"Mitzi, don't get paranoid." He gently put his hands on her shoulders, like an uncle trying to cheer up their upset niece who just scraped her knee falling off her bike.

She was beginning to cry, unable to handle the dear she was having.

"Oh Mitzi…." Beach said quietly.

"I can't help but feel like something bad is going to happen." She sniffled.

Beach didn't really know what to say---considering how many bad things happened already, he couldn't blame her for suspecting even more bad things to come about. She copied the defeated expression he gave her in solidarity. No positive or hopeful quote or saying could make them feel any better.

"Let's just make sure we don't get hurt." He said.

She nodded solemnly, hanging her head low afterwards. He didn't really know what to do. He wasn't much of a hugger, but she needed one. He was willing to put his disdain aside to give her one. Paternal instincts were something he's gained from this whole narrative. She hugged back, her hands clinging to him like a child.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you." He said. Her aunts will kill me if I do, he thought.

"I want fruit roll ups." She whined, wiping away her black tears when she let go.

"Oh my god…. I don't have those."

She began to tear up again.

"Oh my god, Mitzi…."

"I want fruit roll ups…."

This is what it must've felt like to have a teenage sister. All she did was worry, eat, and cry, and he had to deal with it. He didn't mind though. He cared for her, even when she was being this way. So when she snagged her arms around him again, he didn't push her away.

"You wanna watch a movie?" He said.

"Camp rock?" She looked up at him, her inky tears staining his shirt.

"Sure, if you want."

"The weird fish movie then?"

He paused for a moment. "That movie will make you feel worse."

"But it's animated!"

"That means nothing."

"Fine…. We can watch camp rock."

"I…. Have other movies besides the fish movie and camp rock."

She didn't respond, buried her head into his shirt, and kept hugging him. He stroked the back of her head, confused but sympathetic. "Camp Rock it is, I guess."

🦇🦇🦇

He poured Mitzi a glass of Tropicana fruit punch, since she was craving something fruity and was quite dehydrated after crying the way she did. She drank it the way a kid did---no stopping for breath, just wheezing into the cup as she drank, the soothing feeling of a beverage going down your throat after a cry was an immaculate one. She also wrapped herself with a blanket. He didn't know whether he should be glad, or scared that she was becoming comfortable enough that she could make herself at home. He put on camp rock, since she was convinced for some reason it was the only movie to exist, and she stared at it, like how he did at Peanuts holiday specials as a kid and sometimes still as an adult, her eyes still red from the crying. She seemed so innocent when she was like this. She was so fragile, and naive, so much like the kid she was. He knew deep down she knew a lot, she dealt with a lot, and she did a lot, but, a lot like Dook, she was still a kid. She was still learning many things, and maturing in the sense of how she dealt with things.

"Are you feeling a little better?" He asked her, when she finished her drink.

"I guess. A little bit. I don't know." She pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Ah, got it." He leaned back.

"I'm starting to see why my aunts are so protective of me now…." She sighed, hunching over and bundling her legs up into her blanket as if she were cocooning herself. "It really is dangerous up here. Fish are assholes, but…. Werewolves are worse."

He gave her a pat on the shoulder.

They continued to watch camp rock in an odd silence. Mitzi's eyes began to droop, growing increasingly tired. Curled up into a little ball, she fell sideways, asleep. Beach smiled, and continued to watch the movie in the quiet, letting her rest. There was nothing like the feeling of sleeping off an unwanted cry. Those kinds of cries always induced headaches and fatigue, dehydration, feelings of hopelessness…. Basically, crying when distressed like how Mitzi was resulted in medication side effects. It was the mind's confusing way of releasing confusingly painful and stressful emotions. She deserved her rest.

An hour after the move ended, she woke back up, looking disoriented and confused. "Where am i?" She asked.

"My house."

"Oh. That's right."

Beach smiled. "Let's getcha home." he got up, pulling her off the couch, the blanket falling to her knees. She tripped her way out of it, still sleepy, and sulking from her bad mood. She was quiet in the car, just as she was when he first drove her to the sea that first tonight they met. It suddenly hit him how long it has been since he met her.

He dropped her off, she waved goodbye, and ran off to the Beach and into the ocean, to be seen again whenever.

He got out of his car himself and climbed up to the roof, taking in the night. He was going to miss this when the nightmares parked their way into his mind for the next 6 months. The loud crickets and frogs, looking at the stars, the feeling of, even in complete darkness, safety, and security. Without the feeling something was lurking behind him. Although, this time, there was something lurking behind him. He was jolted by a thunk on his car from behind him. And there was Rolfe, a sly, knowing smile on his face. Beach felt his heartbeat gain traction, his guard flipping up as he tried to keep a brace face while looking back at him.

"Interesting to find you out here. Visiting her again?" He asked. The tone of his voice was unpleasant.

"Just got her home. Seems just in time too." He swallowed, suspicious, nervous, and anything else he could possibly be in this moment.

"Did she like my surprise?"

"Wh---it was you, of course it was you!" He seethed. "She nearly had a panic attack from what you've done!"

He let out a pleasant laugh. "Glad to know. She's getting too cocky herself. Had to do what I did with you and send her a warning. I've seen her stalking Dook. She brought along a friend the most recent time, the friend being the one i…. Seasoned."

Beach almost threw up in his mouth from how terrible that threatening villain pun was. Then he wondered why Mitzi kept that detail from him. It explained her guilt a little more in depth, too.

"Right when I thought Dook was an airhead he decided to move to a place populated with sea monsters, knowing they'd become obstacles. I should've known better than to think a vampire, any vampire, wasn't cunning in some way." He monologues, mostly just to hear himself talk. Beach still listened, though, as he was afraid to run, this was his car, and he liked hearing Dook get complimented.

"He's pretty street smart. Thought you'd know that pretty well after all these years of following him." He snarked back.

"Watch it."

"Or what?"

"Do you want me to kill someone else near and dear to your heart?! You don't know what'll happen to me if I don't get Dook back in this next month! Its terrible!"

"In other words, wonderful to everyone else. What happens?" He asked.

"The mafia unit in this state starts hunting me down, too. I could get killed!" He said. "I've gotten every vampire I've ever hunted to break, and give in, but since the beginning, no wolf has been able to get under his skin! Not even the house of pain could get under his skin! And there are ways of torture there that involve literally doing that. The fact they don't give me backup for this guy makes me angry!"

"Every thought about why you can never get him to comply?"

"What?" He crossed his arms.

This was a surreal, diplomatic moment. Rolfe was showing some form of vulnerability, so he had to use that to at least in some way protect Dook, Mitzi, and whomever else.

"Well, for starters, he never wanted to be a vampire in the first place. And you caught him at the point of his life he was looking forward to. He was just starting to figure things out, he was going to get his life together. But right before he could even try, he was forced into all of this. Ever thought about what that's like, you're finally rising from the ashes, only to be taken and thrown into another fire? He must've been very optimistic, because of the fact it gave him such an urge to fight for so many years. He wants his old life back, and since he can't get it, the least he wants is to be left alone." He explained.

"Hmm…" Rolfe put a finger to his mouth, thinking. He didn't seem like the type to show remorse, but he was hoping for him to at least think. "It would explain why he's so relentless. Ever since the day the Boss wolf introduced him to the rest of the mafia, he struggled in his arms. You know how he escaped the house during his visit? He was buried alive in a box. He used the spikes on one of his bracelets, chiselled and broke his way out of the box, unburied himself, and made a run for it. I've never seen someone fight so hard to get away."

"Then why don't you let him get away? Tell the mafia he stepped into the sun, or he ate some garlic?" Beach questioned. "Why try, if he'll never break?"

"I have to at least try. The Boss Wolf is my father. He taught me how to capture even the most unrestful of vampires. He assigned me Dook because he believes in me. And if I fail, he wont go easy on me just because I'm his son. I'll end up as dead as the other wolves before me. I have to. This is my duty. I don't care if it takes until in 90, I'm going to get Dook back there somehow." Rolfe explained. "You really care about him this much you're trying to reason with the enemy?"

"Yeah, I do…." He really hoped Rolfe didn't know they were, in some way, an item.

He panicked to himself, a knowing grin on his face. "He's gonna break your heart, kid. I've seen this one too many times. He likes to fly in and out of relationships. He moves from town to town, falling in love and then having to leave them behind. From what my father learned about him, hes lovesick, but clumsy. You two will probably last as long as his last one."

A Beach shrugged not knowing how to respond with his words. Rolfe could sense his thinking, which only made his smile grow.

"Ha, don't even try to argue. You know it deep inside. Dook is only a small blip in your life as it will be in his, just like the other times. You'll remember him more as this seems to be your first big fling, but to Dook, it's just another name on a list. You're expecting a lot from a hussy, Beach. Get that through your brain. I thought you were smart." He sneered.

Beach looked at him intensely. He knew that wasn't the case for them, but it still damaged him to think that…. Maybe it was. If he didn't become a vampire, he was just going to be left behind as Dook moved away to get away from Rolfe again, and probably find somebody new. He was always telling himself he didnt care if it didn't work out in the long run, but it was like deep down inside, that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted it to be long term. He wanted him to stay here with him. He wanted to wake up next to him, run through the rain with him, hold his hands in a dark theater with him forever. But could that really happen? Was he too blinded by his own love to see that maybe this relationship didn't mean as much to him?

"Don't say I told ya so if you dont last for another couple months. It's best you just let Dook and I do our cat and mouse until he leaves again, leaving you stranded." He turned around and began to walk away.

"For someone who's been following him around for years, I'm assuming, you sure don't know that much about him."

Rolfe stopped and turned around, rolling his eyes, yet still intrigued by what he had to say.

"He has a past. He's done things he isn't proud of. But she's much more complex than you think." He hoped off of the top of the car. "You're idea of him is very…. Flat. Static. Two-dimensional. People change and learn. And although he's been stuck in the same mindset, I'm sure he's learned how to take things slower than he had in the past."

"Really? If you're taking it slow…. How many times have you slept together?"

Beach scoffed, and gave him a face of disgust. "That's a personal question."

"A couple times then, I'm guessing---"

"That is a personal question." He repeated his voice suddenly intense. "I don't get what the obsession is with that, so can you please shut the hell up about it!?"

Rolfe looked at him in shock. He didn't know he had it in him to raise his voice like that. "Very well then. Have your mindless fun. Act like he won't leave you in the dust. Move as fast as you like. But you've been warned. You have your Hopes too high."

He turned around again, and walked off, that stupid smile still on his face.

Beach cursed under his breath, unlocked his car, climbed in and drove home, feeling invaded, dumb, and cranky. His three least favorite things to feel.

#beok #fanfiction #rae au #beach bear #dook larue #the rock afire explosion

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hookedontaronfics · 5 years

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First Contact series - Part 11

Title: First Contact - Part 11 Read the previous installments here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Light cursing A/N: This chapter shows the beginning of Jess’ path to healing. There are some difficult conversations but also some sweet moments with Taron. Things can always be figured out one step at a time and hopefully this chapter will leave you feeling a little bit more hopeful too! Enjoy! x

I stood in front of the mirror, slowly dabbing on foundation, carefully spreading it to the edges, covering the redness of my skin and masking the scars as much as possible. It took several layers of the theater-grade makeup to bring my face closer to what it looked like before Kevin had smashed my face against the side of a brick building. I reached up and ran my fingers over my cheekbone, my brow, flinching at the flashes of memory. I stared at my reflection for a long moment, practicing the smile I would need to rely on as I made my way through work for the first time since the accident. If I couldn’t feel exactly okay, maybe I could fake my way there. That smile didn’t reach my eyes; my gaze still looked broken.

A knock on the doorframe startled me, and I turned to see Jules standing there. “Hey, you almost ready? First day back, you probably shouldn’t be late,” she said gently.

“Yeah, almost,” I said, giving her an actual smile before swiping some shadow and mascara on and finishing off the look with a tinted chapstick. I pulled on a blazer over my blouse and slacks and followed Jules out to the main room. She handed me a mug of coffee she’d already prepared and I gave her a hug.

“You’ll be great, you know,” she said with an understanding I appreciated. Ever since I had shown back up at the flat a week before, Jules and Mary had been nothing but kind and sweet and understanding with me. They’d helped me through my panic attacks and kept me grounded, and even supported my decision to distance myself from Taron slightly, even if they didn’t completely agree with it. Believe me, they’d made their opinions on that more than known. But I knew what I needed for myself, and that was routine and reliance on myself. I just had to trust that Taron would be patient through the current challenge I was facing. I had faith I could come out the other side, but I needed time to work through those issues.

“Of course I will. I didn’t forget how to edit just because my face was broken. I’m just ready to feel normal again,” I sighed.

“Please, you were never normal,” Jules grinned, making me smile as well.

“Oh alright, I have to give you that,” I laughed. I grabbed a scone and my coffee and gave Jules one more hug before I got myself out the door. Something about that one simple action made me feel just a little bit lighter, like I really could reclaim myself. Living under the irrational fear that another attack was imminent was slowly destroying my soul; I desperately needed to prove to myself that it wasn’t going to happen again. Getting myself to work and back without incident was going to be a major part of that.

I took a deep breath and made my way to the tube, my earphones plugged in and my favorite tunes playing on my phone. I felt hyper-alert at the tube station, always looking over my shoulder, but kept talking myself through it. Kevin wasn’t here; Kevin was locked away in a penitentiary until he was sent back to America. I could feel the edges of my ptsd poking at my resolve, but I just turned my music up louder as I picked at my scone.

I was so relieved when I finally made it to the office. I took the familiar elevator ride up, humming to myself. And when the elevator pinged open at our floor, and I pulled the doors to the office open, I was surprised to find my colleagues all standing about and waiting for me. I teared up a bit at the overwhelming reception, all of the “welcome backs!” and “we missed yous!” and hugs all around. I hadn’t been at the job for much longer than over a year so to feel that appreciated and cared about hit me in the soul.

It was good to dig myself back into work. I didn’t have to think about Kevin or anything else, just the difference between gerund and participle and whether the script used the correct form of “you’re.” Grammar was reassuring because the rules were structured; they were reliable and didn’t depend on emotional context to make sense. I was so intensely involved in the script I was editing that I didn’t hear my boss walk up behind me. He knocked his knuckles on my desk and I jumped, nearly swiping my laptop onto the floor in the process.

“How’s it going?” he asked, but I couldn’t hear his words over the rushing sound in my ears. I had to close my eyes and focus on my breathing to try and bring my heart rate back under control, but I was already trembling. I don’t know how many minutes passed like that, but when I finally managed to beat back the panic attack and look up, my boss had a concerned look on his face.

“Sorry, you just scared me,” I said quietly, my voice shaky.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. “Do you need to talk about this in the office?”

“I just… have panic attacks still. After the attack and everything. I didn’t hear you come up,” I muttered slightly. “It’s not really a huge problem, I promise I can do my work still.”

“Jess, that’s not what I’m worried about. I want to make sure that this was an okay time for you to come back. If you need more time we can arrange that,” he said, proving once again how understanding of a man he was. I couldn’t have asked for a better supervisor, truly.

“I need to be at work. I need my life to get back to normal,” I said, finding myself tearing up again and trying to hastily wipe at my eyes. “This is what’s going to help me get better. I can’t lay around at home anymore feeling unproductive.”

“If there’s anything we can do to make this transition time easier for you, though, let me know,” he said, still looking at me in a concerned manner.

“Thank you, I will,” I said, giving him a small smile and trying to be reassuring. Once he took his leave I leaned back in my chair and pressed my fingers against my eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. I was going to be okay, I told myself.

My phone pinged with a text and I grabbed my phone quickly. <I hope your first day back is going smoothly. I miss you.> Taron had texted.

I typed about fifteen different responses, deleting each one, and couldn’t seem to figure out what to say, exactly. He was being sweet, and I appreciated the sentiment. We’d stayed in contact over the past week, of course; I hadn’t been ignoring him but sometimes things felt awkward too. He had been respecting the space I asked for but reminding me that his constant support was there too. I set my phone down and figured I’d text him later, when I was more in a mindset to have a conversation with him.

I returned to my work and managed to get through the rest of the day without a meltdown, which I considered a success. I hurriedly walked to the tube station, double-checking my phone to make sure I had the correct train line as I was now headed to an important appointment. I’d applied to adopt a therapy animal to help with the ptsd and panic attacks at the suggestion of my counselor, and I’d been accepted. I was going to the offices to meet the director, meet some of the trained dogs and hopefully get the process moving forward. I was hoping this was a step in the right direction of my healing.

I felt nervous as I walked in and gave my name at the front desk, but I was welcomed in and treated so kindly. We went over my official diagnosis but the director told me if I felt comfortable sharing I could tell her my story, because I was more than just my diagnosis. There was something so caring and compassionate about her manner that put me at ease, so I ended up telling her all about Kevin.

“Oh honey,” she said sympathetically, but not with pity. “You are incredibly brave. I’m so sorry you went through that, but I do hope our services can be a part of your journey back to wellness. Would you like to meet some of our therapy dogs?” she smiled, and I nodded yes enthusiastically.

I followed her out to what was called the “meeting room” and was able to meet several of the dogs they felt would match my profile and needs. One particularly energetic black lab named Roxy seemed to instantly jive with me. She had the sweetest honey brown eyes and I just melted over her, and when she laid her head in my lap and I think we all knew then that I’d been chosen.

I wasn’t able to take Roxy home just yet; I needed to make sure I had everything set up for her back at the flat, and I would need to go through a couple of training sessions to make sure we understood how to communicate in the way she had been trained. She was young and needed someone with an active lifestyle, and had been passed over for other candidates before. But because I was highly functioning, they felt her energetic nature would suit my lifestyle just fine. She was trained to detect and warn her owner of an impending panic attack, and also provide safety, security and support for the duration of one. I signed the paperwork I needed to, and made my appointment for the training sessions the following week.

I left the office feeling far more light-hearted than I had begun the day, and even picked up takeout for dinner for me and my flatmates on the way home, texting Jules and Mary both about the success of my appointment. Mary had expressed concerns about Tim, her cat, but I figured that any therapy animal would have been desensitized to other pets already and would well enough leave Tim alone. But I needed this, and Jules and Mary were excited for me.

We ate the takeout and chatted about nothing serious, which I appreciated. We watched an episode of The Bodyguard (I was obsessed over this show now) and then I decided to call it an early night. I was exhausted already by the emotions of the day, but I could call it a success and I was proud of myself for that. I washed my makeup off and ran my finger over the largest scar, which ran from my hairline down to the outside corner of my left eye. It was slowly fading but the doctor warned it might always have a presence; the plastic surgeons were talented, but not wizards. There was no magic wand to erase what Kevin had done to me. But I also knew I was stronger than what he had done to me and the best way to prove that, as my counselor repeated often, was to move forward.

I brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas before crawling into bed, deciding to read a little bit, hugging the plushie unicorn Mary had bought for me while I was in the hospital. Maybe it was silly, but it brought me comfort all the same. A knock sounded on the door and I figured it was just Mary or Jules wishing to say goodnight; they probably saw my light was still on through the crack under the door. “Come in!” I called.

The door swung open and there stood Taron - definitely not who I was expecting. “Ahh, Jules said you’d probably still be awake so I… I just hadn’t heard from you all day and I was worried,” he said, hanging in the doorway, almost afraid to come in my room.

I hastily pulled my hair down around my face to hide the scar. I had no idea why I did that; Taron had seen me in the hospital when it was much, much worse. There was no reason to be shy around him, and yet here I was. “I did text you, did you not get it?” he asked softly.

“I… shit. I completely forgot to respond!” I said. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I think I do something that I didn’t actually do but it just becomes jumbled in my brain. I probably am still a little scrambled, you know,” I said, before scooting over on the bed and patting the space beside me.

Taron didn’t need a second hint, immediately crossing over to my bed and settling in beside me. “It’s okay. I just needed to see you, to make sure you were okay,” he said, staring straight ahead and fidgeting slightly with his hands.

“I am as okay as I think I can be. Today was a good step in the right direction for me. I got through work with only one minor panic, and it was nice to focus on something other than what happened. And I met with the animal therapy people and that went really well, and I’ve signed adoption papers already,” I said, unable to not smile over that.

“That’s fantastic news, Jess!” he said, happy for me but I could tell he didn’t exactly know how to be around me at the moment. I hated that I’d made it so awkward, but I still maintained that I was doing the right thing for my own healing’s sake. I wanted to be able to give Taron all of me, not just the bits Kevin hadn’t managed to mess up yet. And in order to do that, I needed to heal all the broken parts first. My heart still hurt over what Kevin had done, and in some ways, I felt guilty and ashamed for ever letting him into my life.

“So tell me about your day, T,” I smiled, moving to snuggle in against him, laying my head on his chest and sighing slightly; he responded by wrapping his arms around me tightly and it made a world of difference. He relaxed finally and I felt him exhale, almost as if he’d been holding his breath around me the whole time.

I listened to him talk, growing sleepy as I was lulled a bit by the sound of his heart beating. It was just comfortable being in his arms again. “Are you even listening to a word I say?” Taron teased me. My eyes had admittedly started to flutter closed.

“Of course I am,” I replied with a yawn.

“You’ve had a long day. I should let you sleep,” he said, but made no move to leave. I think he felt it too, that connection we’d been missing ever since the attack.

“We’re going to be okay,” I said sweetly. “You’ve still got me. I just need a little more time to heal some of this pain. Pain you didn’t cause. I’m sorry you have to wait for me to deal with that.”

“I would wait to the ends of the earth for you, Jess. I told you I love you and I don’t say that lightly. It’s not just a phrase to say flippantly. You mean the absolute world to me,” he said, sweeping my hair back off my face, exposing my scar. I sat up slightly, but mostly so I could see his face, his deep soulful gaze as he continued to speak. “There’s nothing of you to hide from me. I want it all, the beautiful, amazing, lovely bits but also the painful, difficult, vulnerable moments, the ones you think you’re not good enough for me to see. I don’t want you to feel alone on this journey because you’re not. I want you to be able to heal too, but I need you as you are right now.” The emotion in his voice, the rawness of how he felt, the way his lower lip trembled slightly, made me tear up for only the third time that day.

“There’s just so much shame, and guilt, fear and anger, and all of these awful feelings in me right now. I’m afraid that those things will hurt you if I let you in too close. If I lash out at you, or say something that I don’t really mean, I don’t know if I could forgive myself for that. And I’m not completely in control yet. Do you understand?” I asked, placing a hand on his chest, his heart beating so fast.

“I understand but I’m not afraid of you the way you think I should be. Life isn’t all happy and good. Sometimes it’s angering and terrible. Especially when you have to witness someone you love going through the valleys. But that doesn’t make me want to be here for you any less. I made you a promise,” he said, his eyes drifting over to where the ring box was sitting on my nightstand. “And I stand by that promise.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, really, and I couldn’t stand his gaze penetrating through me anymore either, so I laid down on my pillow and sighed. I was worn out and my head was starting its nightly throbbing again. He sighed but pulled the blankets around me and leaned in, kissing me on the forehead. “I’m not giving up, Jess,” he said, sliding out of the bed.

“I don’t want you to,” I spoke up, wiping at my eyes as I had started to cry. “I just can’t handle me right now.”

“We’ll take it one day at a time. That’s all we can do. And each day will be better,” he said, handing me my stuffed unicorn where it had fallen on the floor. “Get some sleep, love,” he said. I nodded at that and after Taron took his leave, basically cried myself to sleep.

The next days of work went as smoothly as could be, and the distraction of work was exactly what I needed. I kept my counseling appointments as well, trying to work through the lingering fears over Kevin and admitting how the attack was affecting my current relationship, a relationship I had been very happy in before Kevin had found me again. My counselor told me that a lot of what I was feeling tied into my lack of self-worth; that Kevin had used my low self-esteem to manipulate me and hurt me. If I really wanted to get better, I needed to start accepting myself, loving myself, and claiming my worth as a person. It all felt a little preachy, but I also knew my counselor was probably right.

I made plans with Mary and Jules to go shopping on Saturday. I wanted to catch up with my friends, and I needed to buy things for my future therapy dog as well. The girls were excited to finally have some fun friend time with me, and I was in a great mood as we left our flat and headed for the tube, our reusable bags slung over our shoulders.

“Oh this is going to be so much fun!” Mary enthused as we waited for our train to arrive.

“Like old times,” I grinned back.

“It’s so rare for all of us to have the same day off,” Jules agreed with a laugh. “I’m totally over this adulting thing. It’s for the birds.”

“Life was so much easier when I didn’t have to feed myself and make all the decisions,” I agreed with a laugh. “So tell me what’s going on with you two. I’ve been so out of touch, and I’m really sorry for that.”

“Oh no, don’t be sorry, Jess. You’ve been through so much,” Mary said sweetly. “We have been understanding of it.”

“Everyone has been, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like an absolute mess still,” I sighed. “But really, what about you and Emmett, hmmm?” I asked, seeing Mary blush.

“Well,” she said, her face turning a bright pink. “We’ve been dating a lot, and it’s been very good. He’s so funny and he has the brightest blue eyes and I just love them,” she giggled. “And we had sex a couple weeks ago,” she added as I squealed loudly.

“Yes, and…?” I said. “How did you not tell me this!”

“It was good for the first time, I think,” she said, hiding her eyes with her hand. “He was really sweet about it,” she added.

“Well I’m very happy for you both then,” I grinned at that. “You deserve someone sweet. And to think you weren’t even going to ask him for coffee,” I teased. “And what about you, Jules?”

“Oh, Gavin and I are off again. But we’ll probably be on again tomorrow, so you know. I just like snogging him so much. But there’s another guy I’ve been talking to who’s quite dishy so I might at least go out with him and see.”

“Yeah, he’s her boss,” Mary leaned in and whispered loudly to me.

“Oooohhh,” I said, raising my eyebrows at Jules.

“Yeah, so? He’s not married or anything. It’s not scandalous. He’s only two years older than me!” she said with a shrug, but I had to laugh at her defensiveness.

“Relax Jules. Like we’re here to judge you,” I giggled. “Besides, what you do is more like a cooperative anyway. That’s what you’ve always told me. Everyone’s sort of on the same level, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve just been putting in a lot of extra hours with Andrew on this huge installation we’re doing and I guess he started noticing me. We’ve been flirting a lot but I think I might just ask him out,” Jules replied.

“You totally should. Gavin’s cute and all but if he can’t commit and you want something more stable, I don’t blame you,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Speaking of stable and committed, how are things going with Taron?” Jules asked me, and I sighed a bit deeply.

“We’re okay right now. I’m trying, you know? I’ve just gotten buried under a lot of old shit I thought I had already solved, but Kevin brought it all back to the surface again. So I guess I hadn’t resolved my demons as much as I had been led to believe. And who knows, maybe this has been a blessing in disguise. Maybe it’s giving me the chance to deal with all of this insecurity and these shitty worth issues. Because it would have cropped up eventually, maybe further down the line, and it could really have caused a rift between us.”

“But he so adores you and just wants to be with you, Jess. You’re denying yourself. We all know it,” Jules said introspectively.

“I’m doing what’s right for me,” I said quietly.

“But what if the right thing really is letting Taron love you?” Mary spoke up.

“She’s got a point, you know,” Jules replied.

“Don’t I need to love myself first, you guys?” I said. “I feel like no one is going to be able to replace that or do that for me. I have to find it first.”

“I’m no guru. I don’t know this shit,” Jules laughed. “I just know that boy loves you more than anything. And that’s worth having too.”

Her words echoed around my brain for a while as our chatter turned to other subjects, and even while we squealed over cute collars and costumes and dog toys at the pet store, loading up on all the supplies I could possibly need to welcome Roxy home.

We stopped for lunch at a cute little sidewalk cafe before doing some clothes shopping as well. I ended up buying some new shirts and a couple of dresses; ever since the ordeal I’d actually lost some weight and my current clothes had gotten too big on me. I’d spent a lot of time feeling insecure about my body, even after Taron had shown me just how much he appreciated it. But now, looking at myself in the mirror of the fitting room, I could think I looked pretty as I smoothed the dress over my smaller waist. It was a small boost in my confidence that I didn’t even know I had needed.

It was a truly good day and I was feeling happy by the time we returned with our arms loaded down with our purchases. While I was in my room putting some things away, I noticed the ring box again on my nightstand. I picked it up and opened it, looking at the smooth band with its tiny diamond nestled inside. I ran my finger over its surface before slipping it out of the box. I rustled around in my jewelry box for a moment before finding a chain that I had long ago lost the charm to, and I threaded the ring onto it before clasping it around my neck. I slipped the ring under my shirt, feeling the cold weight of it against my chest, and smiled.

I grabbed my phone and opened my messages. <You made a promise to me, but I need to make one to you. What are you doing tomorrow evening?> I texted Taron, and I didn’t have to wait long for his reply.

<We should go on that date we said we would. It’s only been a couple of months since our last one. Pick up where we left off before Kevin happened, yeah?> I sent back.

<I like the sound of that> he replied. <Did you have something in mind?>

<Oh yes. I’ll give you details tomorrow.> I texted back, snickering slightly to myself. For the first time in a long while, I actually felt excited. The idea had already started hatching in my brain, but I needed to figure out if I could pull it off or not, starting with a phone call I needed to make right now for reservations.

<You know you love it> I wrote back with a grin on my face. I couldn’t help but like the playfulness that had crept back into this exchange.

<Oh, T. Make a girl blush.> I wrote back, feeling like my cheeks were hurting I was smiling so much.

I couldn’t help but squeal a little to myself as I started putting my plan into place. It was a simple date, really, but to me it held a lot of promise. Maybe I could give back as much to Taron as he had already given to me. His endless faith in me as I crawled out of this darkness had not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. I did still love him and even if the words didn’t come easily or readily to me, I knew it was true for me. It was time I stopped doubting why we had become what we were. I deserved more than I was letting myself have; I had forever seen myself as just the fan in the Tesco’s but truly, I was the woman Taron loved.

Interested to know what Jess has planned? Keep reading in Chapter 12 - HERE!

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron egerton fanfiction

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 years

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#10yrsago A journey through my junk: happy Down the Rabbit Hole day!

As previously mentioned, today is "Down the Rabbit Hole" day, when bloggers are encouraged to post in a different style from their accustomed one. I don't think I can manage a whole day of that, but I'm willing to kick in one post, anyway.

I don't normally write much about my personal life here, partly because I'm pretty jealous of my privacy and partly because it's just not the kind of thing we do here (but that's the point of Rabbit Hole day, of course!).

Last November, Alice and I had our big, grand wedding in Toronto, and invited all my friends. Now, I haven't lived in Toronto for nearly ten years, but for most of that time, I've had a storage locker there, filled with the memories of the three decades I spent in the town of my birth before I left, first for California, then for the UK, then for California, then for the UK again. I've delved into the locker on three occasions, attempting to figure out what I had in it and what I was going to do with it all. The first time, I confronted the incredible, jammed-together mountain of junk and boxes, opened a few, and gave up (it didn't help that the rest of my family had filled all the remaining spaces with their unloved junk). The second time, I showed up with more resolve: I was going to sort through everygoddamnedthing and figure out what I was shipping to London, what I was giving away, what was headed for the dumpster and what needed to be shredded.

That was last spring, when we went back to Toronto with the baby for her first visit to meet her Canadian family, over Passover week. I spent a dusty afternoon, opening boxes, looking through them, sorting them into piles and putting them back together. It was an incredibly emotional experience. The boxes hadn't been packed very intelligently: years before, I'd come back to the warehouse loft I'd shared with my ex, and stuck all the junk I thought I couldn't part with in boxes. It was miserable. The stuff was filthy, and there was so much emotion in this stuff, which felt more like the wreckage of a past life than the memories thereof, that I just lost the capacity to be careful and discriminating, and by the end of it, I had some 80 boxes of random and assorted crapola that disappeared into the locker for most of a decade before I saw it again.

There were enormous piles of books, of course. I'd worked in libraries and bookstores from the age of 12 to the age of 23, and I'd amassed some 10,000 of the little wooden bastards. I had previously believed that these books were my identity, that you could know a man by the books he kept, that I'd be able to read their spines and find in them a palimpsest of all the people I'd been on the way to becoming the person I was. But once I'd been separated from them, I discovered that I barely missed them. Now and again, I'd need to reference something in one of them and I'd find it on Amazon, usually for less than a buck. The books went to my brother's school, where they've been integrated into the school library. Books should be read, not stored, and there's plenty there to make normal kids into happy mutants.

There were boxes of cassettes and VHS cassettes, including a trove of fantastic mixtapes that I'd exchanged with friends and as a courtship ritual over the years. Ten years before, I'd been unable to part with them. Now, it was easy: off to the thriftstore with them. I can download that stuff whenever I need it.

There were boxes of t-shirts, and these, weirdly enough, were harder to get rid of. I find myself sentimentally attached to a shocking quantity of tees. The Rocky Horror tee I wore every Friday for years to the Roxy theater in Toronto. The shirt from Grindstone Island is part of a small trove of memorabilia I have from the place (including a hammered-together chest made from old fruit boxes, and a complete run of WHOLE EARTH CATALOGs) that, to this day, is the place that I think of when I want to imagine perfect peace and happiness. Sometimes, I wonder if my life peaked at 17, there on a 12-acre island in the middle of Big Rideau Lake, listening to the loons and swinging in the hammock on Moonwatcher's Point, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes and talking all night long.

There was some art, and a few wardrobe pieces from my teens and twenties, including my beat up old punk leather jacked, covered in chains, worn to shreds, with stencils on the back. Maybe Poesy will wear it someday. Angry leather jackets never really go out of style.

There were my files -- all my juvenilia, the stories I wrote in elementary school and high school (including Tommy the Toenail Tarantula, with some damned good illustrations by Toby Muller -- where are you these days, Toby?). A truly fantastic quantity of photocopied material about Disney World. A thick folder of anti-fascist material from the John Brown/Anti-KKK League in San Francisco, whom I used to send away to for stickers, fliers and other material. And correspondence -- all the letters and postcards, the lovenotes and snapshots.

The snapshots deserve their own paragraph. One thing I realized: I dressed a lot better in my teens than in my twenties. Partly that was the fact that teenagers can get away with some pretty daring fashion. Partly it was that I spent my twenties trying to figure out what someone who had suddenly found himself working real jobs for real money wore (I went from working for tiny wages in a bookstore to doing Internet work that paid as much as my parents earned pretty much overnight, somewhere around 1993). Partly it was that I gained a ton of weight when I was about 23, and kept it on until I was about 32 and I discovered Atkins.

Another thing I realized: the girls I dated in my teens were knockouts, absolutely out of my league. And not just me, either. When I look at the photos of all my pals in their couples, the teenaged boys look lumpy or gangly, unfinished, with bad facial hair (shocking realization du jour: I look terrible with giant sideburns). The girls, by contrast, look pretty much fantastic. They're put together, confident, striking. All the couples look like beauty and the beast.

What else was there? A complete set of original Star Trek action figures and an Enterprise playset with the cool-ass transporter/spinner thing. The original, absolutely fabulous Haunted Mansion board game. A pretty good selection of Disney-attraction-themed boardgames and tin lunchboxes.

Tax docs. Bags of receipts. An entire carton of dead SCSI drives that had to be sent for secure disposal.

The next time I saw my stuff was a few days before I got married in Toronto. I had movers from Hudson Movers meet me at the locker. They were fabulous -- took the charity shop donations, the school donations, the art supplies I sent to Klockwerks, and all the stuff to ship to London away. They packed the shipment, filled in the customs forms, and put it all on the proverbial slow boat.

Two weeks ago, the boxes showed up at my office here in London, and I had a much longer pass through the stuff. By this point, it had been whittled down to six boxes. The books went onto the shelves, the t-shirts went into the storage closet, and a trove of my chewed kids' books and stuffed animals went back to the flat for my daughter.

The locker in Toronto is gone (well, technically, it's still there and filled with my family's junk, but that's their problem, not mine) and the goods are sorted and put away. Funnily enough, even after three or four passes through a "do I want this?" filter, I still had three boxes of garbage and donations out of the eight boxes that sailed the sea to London.

It's liberating. I feel lighter. For years, it felt like there was a weak and persistent nagging gravity tugging at me from Toronto, a needling, wheedling kvetch from all those unregarded possessions that I had responsibility for but no use for.

There's still a locker in LA -- well, in the desert outside of LA, it's one of those outfits that forklifts a storage box onto your lawn a week before you move; fill it up and call them and they forklift it back to some remote location with zero humidity until you request it again. I only have a dim recollection of what's in there, but I'm pretty sure it's almost all framed pictures that we had no room to hang in London but couldn't bear to part with. That and a couple of really good office chairs and a Danish dining room table that Mr Jalopy rescued from the garbage and refinished. Someday, if we move back to the States, we'll have instant decor. In the meantime, there's some of that nagging gravity being exerted by the box in the desert, too.

https://boingboing.net/2009/01/27/a-journey-through-my.html

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ghostmartyr · 5 years

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Pokémon Black 2 Randomized Nuzlocke Run [Part 3]

With some interesting carnage leading us through it, the second badge has been earned. Better yet, we got a TM for a Special Poison move, so Caspet can now be a little more secure in her help.

Team as of the moment:

Stella (Poliwhirl)

Caspet (Gastly)

Okay then.

New routes please.

Hey me.

I have been invited to Pokestar Studios. It’s like Hollywood. Roxie’s dad ran off there to be a movie star. Roxie’s now running off there to talk him out of it. We’re going to run off there and have a terrible time with movies.

I don’t know why I remember the movie place. I think there was either some achievement or plot barrier there, and I hated the process but perfectionism insisted on trying again and... idk. Hopefully that distaste won’t be part of this run.

Can I please just be allowed to catch a third party member.

Is there any grass here. Please.

Stop dragging me to movies.

Stop dragging me to terrible movies.

Like there’s clearly some Emotions going on with Roxie’s father, but oh my gosh I do not play these games for becoming a movie star. ;-; Free me. ;-;

I have control of myself again, so I don’t know if I actually have to shoot a movie, but I feel like Roxie and her dad might require me to, and in any case, one won’t hurt too badly. I guess.

Wait, was it a medal thing? Is that why I made myself nuts over this?

Movie shot, script followed, yay, leaving.

Ahoy, plot!

Sequel Team Plasma is so very open about wanting to take over the world. How refreshing. They’ve gone from knights to pirates. Most excellent.

Pop Roxie is back to captaining, so it’s time to run off to Castelia and find another darn teammate.

And our first act of being in Castelia is a clown giving us a bicycle. Rocking.

A boat takes us to Liberty Garden. I think this is where Victini is if Victini is activated, but I’m not sure if that will be the case with this version. The important question is... does it also have other grass.

Fuckdamn it doesn’t.

Yay, entering random buildings in Castelia gave me an Exp. Share.

In keeping with me doing stupid things, I go to the Game Freak building and chat up some of the trainers who are not nearly as strong as they are post-game, thank goodness.

I really.

Really.

Would like.

More than two pokemon in my party.

I also finally gave in and talked to the medal guy in the Pokemon Center.

My achievement hunting tendencies are going to be the largest obstacle between me and any progress ever.

-whispers-

I want all of them.

Other conversations gave me an Eviolite, so that goes to Stella. ...Wait, no, Caspet. Uggggggh.

Burgh is missing from his Gym, which is fine, since I don’t think I’m ready for another round. I’m just walking around trying to check off whatever plot stuff I can that will let me catch something else.

Oh hey, I think talking to Iris opens up the sewers! I think that means I can catch something down there! !!!!

Pleeeeeease give me something.

Please, ominous guise of darkness.

Oh no.

Russell’s partnering with us, so. Uh. What’s the rule for this? I have to catch the first thing I see, but as long as I’m in a duo, I won’t be able to throw a ball very easily...

Fuuuuuuck.

Okay. We took out Panpour.

I have the ability to throw a ball, which means.

This is my catch option for the route.

Haaaa. And Russell’s Dewott is using Fury Cutter. Its damage will keep going up. I think I have two tries to catch it.

Yeehaw.

Try one is a bust.

Oh hey that’s neat! The Dewott used Razor Shell on Stella, because Stella has Water Absorb and had taken damage! That’s smarter than I expected from the partner AI.

And that means I can spare a turn or two trying to put Serperior to sleep. Since Stella still has Hypnosis.

Yo, it hit! And Dewott heals me again!

But. I need Serperior to be more damaged. I shouldn’t risk attacking. ...I’ll just keep throwing balls and wait for Dewott to hurt it a little more.

HECK YEAH WHO’S DA MAN.

Hot damn that was stressful.

Now I gotta give this girl a name.

Sylarana, wanna rock?

Also, now having Russell with me is a good thing, because this squad could use some levels.

What are you like, Syl?

She’s Careful and proud of her power.

Yeah, pride looks good on that sprite.

I don’t know what Serperior’s stats are with a neutral nature. That takes some stress off, since I’ll just go with the flow, but I prefer to know what I’m getting into, usually. Either way, Defense is stronger than Attack, and that’s just fine.

Female Nidoran are down here, too.

This is working out well enough. Yay for buddy healing. I almost don’t want it to ever end. It’s so convenient.

I shouldn’t do this forever, though. That would get boring fast.

My starter breathing. Also cool pirate outfits in Pokemon Go.

Mooks dispatched.

Gym Leader located!

Look at Burgh being all artsy with his tour of the sewers.

Huh, and Russell just hands us Strength. Because all our pals are true bros in this gen.

Then a dude with anime hair walks out of the hole in the wall.

YO NEW ROUTE.

‘ello there.

...I am possibly not going to be able to catch you due to lack of poke balls and you being remarkably stubborn.

Hey, there we go!

What to name you... what to name you... A magnificent sea serpent with a rainbow tail...

Nessy!

Without Russell healing us every fight, we can’t stick around. Back out of the sewers we go, to receive happy words from Iris. Well. Sort of happy words. She worries about Russell and tells us to challenge the Gym.

I, being a compliant sort, walk back into the sewers after healing.

Okay I guess it’s a cave. Sylarana out front, Nessy with Exp. Share while I contemplate what the heck this team does against a Bug Gym.

Ooooh, Forretress.

...

Is. is there anywhere I can go that can pave the way to me getting a Fire pokemon?

You know what, I don’t like things that blow themselves up at me. Guh, this is taking forever. I might need to buy a few Repels just so I can explore the cave properly... I believe there’s grass somewhere past the sewers, and if I could have a slightly more diverse team going into the next whatever, I’d like it.

Oh, and before I forget, Nessy!

She is Quirky and mischievous. She and Stella have half their personalities in common. Delightful. Marvel Scale is also a neat ability to have. Not one I can utilize properly because I’m a competitive failure, but still cool.

Neat, there’s Pidgeot down here.

Looks like there’s not much of the cave to explore at this point in the game. Ah well. Back to the sewers.

Hm. Would the desert north of Castelia be open to me yet? That could prove useful. Heck, is anywhere outside of this city open? I just need a little patch of grass somewhere new.

Bridge still being inspected.

A wild Bianca appears!

Dowsing Machine get!

Hello, this is new.

But there’s still spots of desert.

OH MY GOSH LOOK AT IT.

Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh.

Caught!

Your new name is Itsy, and you are much beloved!

Itsy is Modest and somewhat vain, and ouch that is not a nature I think I like for this little one, but adorableness beats everything, so we’re good.

Butterfree is also in the desert. Oooo Pawniard. Back to the sewers, though. Easier training fodder.

Grass located!

...And if I were a better trainer, I would go back and buy poke balls before exploring, but I have the impulse control of a toddler. Oh, and it’s dark grass vs. light grass...

Decision will be made by rapidly running between the two and seeing what triggers an encounter first.

Dark grass it is!

Aaaaaaaa fuck off.

I love Lapras so much. So so so so so so so so much. But I have two Water pokemon already, as well as an Ice one. I. can’t focus on catching the Lapras. It would be a bad idea.

You have never seen anyone so sad to encounter a Dratini during a Nuzlocke.

The wild Lapras fainted.

Oh fucking hell the Dratini knows Dragon Rage and both my pokemon are under 40 HP. Caspet’s turn on healing Caspet, Sylarana’s turn on getting her out of there.

Okay. Confused and slept.

Now I just. catch it. With four poke balls and two great balls left.

...Three poke balls, and guess who woke up.

Great ball. C’mon great ball.

..One great ball left.

Also if Dratini hurts itself in confusion one more time it is dead.

FORTUNE SMILES ON THE CRIMINALLY STUPID.

Now let’s run everyone back through the sewers and--

Did. did I really hit the no nickname option.

Ffs.

Okay, run back through the sewers, hit the Pokemon Center, and then name the critter. The Name Rater’s somewhere in the city, I think.

Heh. The guy in the alleyway still gives us Flash.

Congratulations, Puff! You are now eligible for activity!

Puff is Quiet and alert to sounds. An adorable addition to our squad. He’s going to be temporarily up front thanks to Dragon Rage. The Game Freak fights are once a day, and it’s been a day, so!

I believe in you, Puff!

Dragon Rage is so op this early. Dreamor agrees. But Puff’s ours, so that makes it okay.

Hm. I have six now. They could keep each other out of trouble.

There are so many areas in these sewers I can’t get to. Or maybe I can, it just involves more maze work than I’m expecting. ...Yeah, it’s looking like that side. Hey, a nurse guy! Yay for less walking up to the Pokemon Center.

Oh, and Poison... might be super effective against Bug? I think the whatsit thing he has is Bug/Grass, so that isn’t actually much of a confirmation. Eh, I’ll find out soon enough.

I’ve found a room full of Zweilous. That’s a safe grinding area, right? Itsy’s got Ice and everything. Vullaby and Dwebble are also here.

Heeeeeey, Caspet’s evolving!

And wants to learn another physical Ghost move.

Bye Lick.

Okay, Gym it is.

...Wow Burgh. Really went full Art on the place, huh? Did trainers complain that you were forcing them to walk through honey before letting them fight you?

Puff’s up first. I don’t have much type advantage here, so it’s just going to be hitting things until they break.

Burgh.

Hey Burgh.

This Gym is creepy.

The cocoons just suck you in and zoom you up. Only think Willy Wonka style.

Mooks have level 20s, so this should be a little uncomfortable for a few of the younger members, but Caspet, Stella, and Sylarana should be fine. For now, Puff’s still in front and Dragon Raging all the things.

And we’re going to the Pokemon Center after every fight, but hey. Baby steps in all things. Puff is on one of the slower exp tracks, so every little bit helps.

...Burgh. Buddy.

You want to talk?

This Gym feels like a cry for help.

In true shounen protagonist style, I will settle your troubled emotions through battle! Even if none of the dialogue will admit to how concerning the aesthetics of your chosen arena are!

Everything is hitting critical hits.

...Oh wait, I’m supposed to narrate these fights, aren’t I?

Uh. Swadloon down, Dwebble down, Leavanny left, Leavanny’s level 24. Caspet’s out to deal with it after Puff handled Swadloon and Nessy handled Dwebble.

Caspet one-shots it like a champ, and on we go.

Burgh, this trinket in no way makes me less concerned for you.

Still, though! Everyone’s alive, and we have a team full of six! Nice work, ladies and Puff. Five more badges to go! Let’s hope they go well!

#Pokemon #Nuzlocke Challenge

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mythicalflower06-blog · 7 years

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Winx Club August Challenge

1.Which Winx would you get along with best/worst?

A: Best would be Bloom because our personalities are quite similar. Worst would be Musa, because I wouldn’t stand her temper and we would probably get into a fight at some point.

2. Which Trix would you get along with best/worst?

A: Stormy for best, she’s brave and honest; Darcy for worst, she’s cunning and subversive. 3. If you had to team up with a villain (excluding trix) who?

A: I would not team up with a villain. Nope. Not happening. If I have to answer, though, Selina after she’s good again. 4. How was your fave way that someone earned Charmix?

A: Flora. Because I wouldn’t have the guts to do it.

5. Fave Pixie?

A: Jolly (Hallowinx is my favourite episode from s2!)

6. You’re fave sacrifice for Enchantix?

A: Tecna obviously. The realest one. I cried when I first watched it at age 8, I cried when I re-watched the whole series at 16, I cry every time I go back to it. She’s the bravest of them all, no doubt, a true Gryffindor.

7. Fave use of fairy dust?

A: To make cloud tower visible again. My favourite episode from s3.

8. Would you have chosen the waterstars?

A: If I was Stella, I would. If I was Musa, I would. If I was Tecna, I wouldn’t.

9. What would you have chosen over the waterstars?

A: Like I said before, everything Tecna gave up. Emotions, memories, feelings, thoughts, all the things I hold close to my heart. Once again, it’s proved that Tecna is the bravest of the Winx. I consider myself a Gryffindor and wouldn’t be able to do that.

10. Fave alternate wing for believix (zommix, speedix,tracix)?

A: I would like to have those zoomix wings because they are beautiful, but I’d choose tracix because I love what they do.

11. Sophix or Lovix?

A: Is both an option? No? Okay Lovix, I’m really emotional.

12. Would you have accepted the sirenix quest?

A: Sure let’s do this.

13. Sirenix wish?

A: That everyone could have a happy life.

14. Fave way bloomix was earned?

A: Bloom’s.

15. Your fave fairytale from the legendarium?

A: Children of the Night, favourite episodes from season 6!

16. Specialist or Paladin?

A: Specialist, of course. They’ve been there since s1, and we all know there’s nothing better than s1. 17. Fave new weapon from s6?

A: I didn’t care much about the weapons, I was just angry at all the wasted potential the Legendarium had.

18. Most interesting magical school?

A: Hogwarts! ... Okay, if it has to be from winx club, Red Fountain or s1′s Cloud Tower, never liked Alfea that much tbh.

19. Fave/least fave fairy animal?

A: I didn’t watch s7. It felt too much like childhood ruined for me.

20. Mirta, Roxy or Daphne?

A: Definitely not Roxy. Definitely not s5 or s6′s Daphne. I really love both Mirta and s1′s Daphne, I guess I’ll chose Daphne because she reminds me of my own older sister a lot. I cried when I learned her story, in s1 ep18 (favourite episode EVER!!!) and also in the first movie.

21. Faragonda, Griffin or Saladin?

A: Good question. I still don’t get why Faragonda denied Bloom all the knowledge about Daphne and Domino and the Dragon Fire in s1 until she learned it the hard way. Kind of like Dumbledore denied Harry the knowledge about his parents, him being a Horcrux or his past with Voldemort. I mean, both those informations were SUPER IMPORTANT for those kids and their supposed MENTORS hid them from them. That’s why I don’t like either Faragonda or Dumbledore. Griffin was kind of a bitch in the beginning of s1 (*cough* ep3 *cough* ep 8). So yes, Saladin is the best.

22. Fave (set) of parents?

A: Mike and Vanessa obviously. If I were Bloom I would NEVER had stopped calling them mom and dad even if I found that I was adopted and met my birth parents. They would always be the people who raised me like their own, which takes even greater love and dedication.

23. If you could chose a realm to live in which one?

A: Earth ahahah!

24. Fairy animals or Plushies from s4?

A: I didn’t watch s7. So s4.

25. Fave/least fave Major Fairy?

A: Fave is Bloom. S1′s Bloom. She was the first character I could ever relate to. I was also very good at drawing, a little awkward, really clumsy, overwhelmed by magic, seeing the good in every person, innocent and naive, dedicated to my friends, shy and introverted but funny when comfortable, with a tendency to go back home (to my bedroom and my diary) when things turned out bad. I could really feel those two wonderful songs in ep18, my favourite of all time.

Tecna is a close second fave. I always admired her a lot. She was the most courageous (as I had said before many times), the most intelligent, and really I think she went through the hardest and I have a lot of heart for this character. She also reminds me of Hermione a lot (while Bloom is Harry and Flora is Ron) Least fave is probably Musa. Her attitude was sometimes so grumpy and she had some mean comments sometimes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned to the dark side.

26. Fave/least fave Song (winx in concert)?

A: I don’t know which are the concert songs. But I love both songs from s1 ep 18 and opening and ending songs from s1. (yeah, proud s1 fan)

27. Fave/least fave transformation song?

A: I like movie Enchantix song the best, or maybe Sophix, worse is Harmonix. 28. Fave /least fave Talent (WoW)?

A: I still haven’t watched WoW but I’m looking forward to!

29. Fave/least fave new character in WoW?

A: Same answer from 28

30. Dreamix or Onyrix?

A: Same answer from 28

31. What got you into Winx?

A: I don’t really know, I was one of the original fans who was a kid when s1 came out, so I just watched it on the TV. Though one of my first childhood memories is being 4 years old at my grandma’s house watching Bloom’s test in s1 ep14, in one of those really old, really gray, and really big 90s TVs in a small dim lit room when my mom said we had to go home because it was late (it was, like 6:30 PM) and me begging for her to let me finish that one show (I guess I didn’t know the name back then) bcause it was my favourite of all times. And you know what? S1 still is. (I know this was supposed to be an answer a day, but I won’t have internet for most of August since I’m going on holiday, and I missed the first day as well, and just really wanted to answer them all, so here it is! Thx for reading, Myth xx)

#winx club august challenge #winx #winx club

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journeysintowebcomics · 7 years

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Homestuck Liveblog #170

UPDATE 170: Dave Gets His Epiphany

Last time Hussie had decided it was time to pour even more dialogue onto the readers, since last time it hadn’t been enough, hah! Ten different dialogue options – presented linearly, in a subversion of how this usually goes. So let’s continue with what may or may not be the last chance these characters have of talking to each other before the fights.

So I heard that hovering over the options one already cleared would show images, and that was right! There are images. It seems Dave and Dirk continue just...lying around awkwardly, and Vriska and her ghost are arguing while Meenah fantasizes about varied stuff. There’s more than can be done, although the very next option is Roxy being alone. She’s still trying to create the matriorb. Calliope is sitting right in front of her, in silent support role. Roxy channels the universe and Alternia’s complicated state of matters, and...

Well! Mission accomplished! That was easier than I thought it’d be, even with Calliope’s silent help. I suppose there wasn’t more time for delaying this any longer. Kanaya is going to be immensely happy the troll race will be resurrected now. This was a short detour, completely devoid of words but with a significant development – at least to complete quite some part of Roxy and Kanaya’s arcs and goals in this story.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Roxy and Calliope leave right when the bizarre combination that is Jasprosesprite arrives to hassle Jane for a while longer. I’m crossing my fingers this’ll be quick and painless.

JASPROSESPRITE^2: Miss me Rose? JASPROSESPRITE^2: Did you know I love you?? Weird thing for me to say and you to hear, probably! JASPROSESPRITE^2: I inherited the adoration our cat had for you, which now strangely is directed with the exact same intensity at myself, because I'm you! JASPROSESPRITE^2: Funnily enough this manifests itself in a particularly acute form of narcissism, which is something we were already sort of afflicted by, and so was our cat by the very nature of the sort of animal he was! JASPROSESPRITE^2: The bottom line is I'm pretty twisted up inside in all the most beautiful ways and it's wonderful. ROSE: It really isn't.

Haha, okay, that one was actually pretty funny. She’s not wrong, Rose, you do tend to have slight traces of narcissism in your personality. Guess that all the increased narcissism in this sprite is what makes it have absolutely no brain-mouth filter, what with having an inflated sense of the self and what one says. Being a cat can’t help that either.

Now that Jasperosesprite made the customary hassling towards Rose, she gets straight to business about the battle plan. She has to arrange with Jane how it’ll be done, after all. This is achieved by taking Jane away without even giving her a moment to prepare. There’s someone she needs to meet, somebody in Jane’s planet.

Ah, true, the denizen. The New Wonderkids’ session was rather lacking in information about the denizens, especially since this session was meant to do pretty much nothing. Given Hussie’s track record so far, I’m almost completely sure that Jane’s talk with the denizen will happen off-screen and the characters will talk about it once it’s done, so...no more option than waiting until this is done!

Damn it , I have been bamboozled! Well played, Hussie, you had me fooled, I admit it. This could be good, though, not everyday you meet a senior version of yourself that’s dressed as a clown and...is the mother of your father. This is time-travel-gone-wrong levels of weird.

Aw, come on, Hussie, I wanted to see this! But nope, just when Nannasprite got in front of Jane the section ended and went to the next. Oh well. I’m really hoping I’ll have the chance to see how this goes, but I’m not going to hold my breath over it. The scribbled images of what the rest of the options are doing show John and Terezi discussing how Rose could have a black romance status with, uh, a version of herself. Yeeeeeeah no, let’s not do that. Doesn’t seem healthy – just ask Karkat, it’d be a headache.

About Roxy and Calliope, they just arrived to what I think is Jade’s planet, and Calliope is told to stay with Jade. I had completely forgotten Jade is still asleep. It’s once again said that it’s nice to have Calliope around. And...that was it! I just summarized around six or so pages in this very short paragraph.

I think that goes way beyond the realm of kismesis behavior Rose...and out of the realm of sanity as well. Stay away from any copies of the Sassacre book, resist the temptation. Anyways, Dave and Dirk are still here. Going to try to talk again? They’re focusing more on the battle to come than on anything else. Hah! No progress on the heartfelt conversation front, apparently.

DAVE: hes got lord english powers tho

It could be a way to know how well a fight against Lord English would go, then. Sure, Union Jack is completely different, less bulky, has no time powers, and presumably has one single personality in that noggin of his instead of being a weird amalgamation, but it’d be a way to see if they are ready to fight against Lord English. Think of it as having training wheels on your bike.

Swords can’t help you solve problems with people, who’d have thought. Dirk and Jake are the closest example to how someone who has spent their formative years alone and without the presence of people around would behave: with no social skills at all. Jade got very lucky in that regard, she is very well-balanced for someone who grew on an island and only had a dog for company. Then again, her Dreamself must have been of help, the Prospitians must have helped her have some people skills.

DIRK: ... DAVE: ...

Nothing has changed here.

It takes a few pages more before Dirk takes the plunge headfirst down the emotional cliff, with all the grace of a novice. It does get the conversation going, mostly about how this isn’t how he pictured the meeting going.

DIRK: Maybe you'll think it's weird that I idolized some version of you that I never knew.

These two are much more similar than they each realize. Their upbringings aren’t that different, heck, I’d say that Lil’ Hal fulfilled the role Bro had, just with less sword attacks. Other than that it was pretty much the same, an isolated life with an aloof person/glasses in the vicinity. Come on, Dave, admit you idolized Bro. That’d be a great step towards turning the page in your life and bonding with Dirk, you can do it!

DAVE: ive got to say DAVE: meeting you DAVE: its not rockin my world here DAVE: or upending any paradigms or whatever DAVE: listening to you and looking at you DAVE: it really really just DAVE: reminds me of him

Close enough! I’m a bit downtrodden there was no exchange of words between Bro and Dave so I could have a reference on how similar this actual situation is to how they got along. I imagine Bro wasn’t that different from Dirk.

DIRK: Things, between you and me, from your perspective, um, DIRK: Are we like, not cool? DAVE: ..................

I’m not sure if it’s telling or not that there was no ‘yeah’ or similar quick response.

DAVE: i didnt fuckin like you that much ok?

...

...okay, that isn’t how I thought it’d go. I suppose there’s a difference between idolizing and actually liking a person. Good for you for saying it aloud, Dave. It must have been very difficult to say to anybody, even more to a version of your brother.

After a sequence of images meant to show how little time passed between Dave going “I don’t want to talk about it” to “okay heres what im saying” he finally starts...and boy is it tough.

DAVE: i dunno why my friends got to have adults around who cared about them DAVE: they complained bitterly about stuff so i guess i convinced myself they were all in the same boat as me DAVE: but thats not how it was

That’s pretty much how kids and teenagers are, they complain and don’t realize sometimes such complaints aren’t about things as bad as they could be. Leaving behind such behavior is part of growing up. Dave didn’t realize how badly he was being treated, though, he just saw no difference between his life and the lives of the rest of his friends – at first.

DAVE: so all thats left to do is look back and try to put the pieces together of my first 13 years DAVE: and all i can think is what the fuck WAS that?! DAVE: i dont come away with the impression i used to try convincing myself of, that he was like "mysterious" or "stern" or "aloof" DAVE: the only feeling left is this insane impression that i was raised by somebody who fuckin HATED me

...hated you? Hm...honestly? I don’t know. Bro’s way of raising Dave had a lot of things wrong, and I really don’t know how to interpret it. I’m interested on knowing how other people interpreted it. Would you mind telling me your thoughts, everyone? I really don’t know what to think about this.

Dirk actually sounds horrified about what he’s hearing. Perhaps he doesn’t like the thought of his equivalent doing this all?

DAVE: it took years to deconstruct it all and put it back together to understand how fuckin mad i should be DAVE: and in particular how stone cold deeply uncared for i was my whole life DAVE: like... being merely "monitored" by a violent robot

Haha...you know what this brought to mind? What went through my head right when I read this part?

TT: Don't worry, that's normal. TT: Upon activation he goes into Stalking Mode. GT: Stalking mode?? TT: Yes. He will stalk you in the jungle and strike when your guard is down.

It’s exactly that. Dave pretty much described the robot Dirk made and sent to Jake. It’s pretty much the same in terms of how Dave was raised! Wow, Hussie, did you do this on purpose? I think you did this on purpose! Dave may as well have been raised by the brobot thing, and just like Jake – who dreaded encountering it and once he had to fight it didn’t precisely have loads of fun – Dave now doesn’t want to fight. He wants to avoid this fighting thing, and hates that he has to be the one to grab the sword and slay the villain.

You seriously screwed up here, Bro.

Dave even brings up that maybe things would have been better if Lil’ Cal hadn’t been around. Maybe! The influence of Lord English can’t be an ingredient in a healthy household – even more since part of Lord English is once another version of Dirk. Hah! Life sucks for the Striders. It’s...it’s rather depressing, actually. I wonder if at the time they had to cram Caliborn into the puppet Dave realized what Lil’ Cal was. Even if he did, I doubt he’d have any kind of reaction when anyone was nearby, but at that moment I imagine many things clicked in Dave’s head.

Would Bro have been any different if that puppet of the damned hadn’t been around? Uh...I dunno. Maybe it really was a poisonous influence of some sort, influence Dirk was lucky not to have. It’s all up to interpretation, I’d say.

I think now that the epiphany is complete I can stop the update and continue next time. This, though, this is exactly what I was hoping the Striders would do, that at least one of them would unload this heavy emotional baggage, and it’s for the better! I’m glad it’s actually happening.

Next update: three updates

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #webcomics #liveblog #webcomic liveblog

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kayincolwyn · 7 years

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In Memory Of Shasta

Yesterday, on March 2nd of 2017, I found out that my dear friend and once faithful companion, Shasta, who was our dog through most of my twenties up until we had to find her a new home just a few years ago when we moved, passed away. While I haven’t seen Shasta since we had to give her away I have missed her since then when thinking of her, and I was saddened by the news, though knowing that she was happy in her last few years and that she died peacefully of old age eases the pain some... Shasta was a very special dog (we think she was mostly Schipperke mixed with terrier or maybe some other breed) who lived a long and (mostly) happy life, being anywhere between 15 and 18 when she died (we weren’t sure exactly how old she was), which is a long life for a dog. My aunt Stephanie (my mom’s half sister, who passed away some years ago) found Shasta when Stephanie was living in Washington D.C. Stephanie was driving in her car somewhere around the White House and then suddenly a car in front of her stopped and someone just threw a dog out of their car on the busy street. Stephanie, being the kindhearted person that she was, opened her car door and called the dog to her, and the dog jumped in. She named the dog Shasta after Mount Shasta in California, and adopted her as her own. Stephanie found out after taking Shasta to the vet that she had been abused by her former owners (which isn’t surprising considering the fact they had thrown her out of their car), and the vets couldn’t determine her exact age but their guess was she was about two years old, so likely the first couple years of her life were pretty horrific... But Stephanie made up for this by showering her with love and affection over the next few years of her life, basically spoiling Shasta rotten, treating her as her child, dressing her up in outfits, sharing her ‘people food’ with her, etc. Shasta blossomed and was happy with her new mom, and eventually Stephanie moved to Oregon and soon after bought a new friend for Shasta at a pet store, a black kitten whom she named Roxanne (or Roxy for short). Stephanie lived in the trailer next to ours for the last few years of her life until she passed away suddenly in her sleep one day, and Taj, my mom’s and Stephanie’s mother, asked us if we would be willing to adopt Shasta and Roxy since they meant so much to Stephanie and she saw them as her children, and of course we couldn’t say no. Over the next seven to eight years I formed a bond with Shasta, and she kind of attached herself to me as ‘her human’. I confess there were times when I felt I didn’t really deserve her devotion, as I didn’t always walk her as much as I probably should have (we had a small yard and she mostly did her business there so walking her wasn’t a requirement) and sometimes I would get upset with her when she was a being a pain and would yell at her, but I tried my best to live up to that devotion. In my mid to late twenties I was going through a lot of mental, emotional, and spiritual turmoil (in large part because of struggles I was having with evangelical Christianity which I was immersed in at the time) but Shasta was there for me through that time. I remember there were times when I would be crying and shaking on the floor, full of confusion and uncertainty, and she would come up to me and paw at me and would whimper her concern, and other times I would snuggle with her and would feel just a little better and a little less alone. But most of all I remember our late night walks (or walkies) together, which me and my family affectionately called ‘big adventures’, when I would go out with Shasta and take time to reflect or pray or just listen to music and stargaze. Shasta was my faithful companion on these late night journeys (although there were some during the day as well), which were very helpful to me in getting through that difficult time in my life, as it gave me time for some quiet and solitude to work through my feelings. Shasta was always thrilled to go on these ‘big adventures’, jumping up on me as I tried to get her leash and pulling me out the door... Looking back now, to be honest I’m not sure if I would have gone on these late night walks without Shasta as having her with me made me feel a little less weird wandering around at night, as rather than looking suspicious I was just some guy walking his dog... We wandered all over our neighborhood, but then our main hangouts were these two parks in the Oak Grove area, one on Naef and one on Risley, that were on opposite sides of this trail in our area called the Trolley Trail, then there was my elementary school, Concord (which has since closed), where we would wander around in the field where I used to play back when I was a kid (and I would sometimes sit on the bench where I decided to propose to my wife in the snow eight years ago) and then there was my high school, Rex Putnam, where I would sometimes walk around the track and sit on the bleachers where I remember sitting with friends as a teenager. Sometimes Shasta would wander about as I watched her and as I took time to think about my life or pray or just look up at the stars in wonder, or she would sit by and keep me company as I would pet her and sometimes talk to her. While there were times during these late night walks when I was feeling broken or sad or anxious because of everything I was going through internally, much of the time these walks with Shasta helped me to find strength and courage to keep going even when life didn’t make sense, and sometimes these times were magical and spiritual and stirred my heart with hope. These late night walks, or ‘big adventures’, with my faithful companion Shasta, are among some of my most cherished and meaningful memories, and I know that I in large part can thank Shasta for them. And looking back now, I wonder if God, or whatever higher power there may be, was somehow working through Shasta in those times to assure me that I was loved and not alone, that I was not alone as I wandered in the night... But as is the case with so many good things in life, our late night walks came to an end a few years ago when my family had to move and though we were able to take Roxy sadly Shasta couldn’t come with us (because the pet deposit in our apartment for dogs was too expensive and they didn’t have a yard, etc). We were determined to find her a good home though, and eventually my dad offered to help and found her a home with some friends of his on the coast. I remember when I said goodbye to her I felt sad as I don’t think she really realized at the time that she wouldn’t be coming back and that she might never see me again... Sadly I wasn’t able to visit her, but my dad would let us know how she was doing from time to time, and he always said she was doing well and was loved and had new people she had bonded with, and that helped me to feel better about letting her go, although there were still times that I missed her... I was at work when my wife Kaylyn called me and let me know that my dad had called my mom to tell her that Shasta had passed away, and at first I just felt kind of shocked and didn’t really feel much of anything as I finished my shift, but then as I was walking home from work after getting off the bus, I was remembering all of my late night walks with Shasta and the memories of her came flooding in and I cried as I walked, and I think I felt something like her presence with me at my side, as she had so often been through my twenties, and there was this voice in my mind saying that it was going to be okay and that she was okay, and when I got home I felt more at peace... A friend of mine once told me that in life there are seasons, and all seasons come to an end, and I think my time with Shasta was one of those seasons. By the time my time with her had come to an end when I was about 30 I had moved away from evangelical Christianity and wasn’t in so much inner turmoil as I had been, so while I would miss those ‘big adventures’ that she and I had and still do, I don’t think I needed them as much as I did, and maybe didn’t need Shasta as much as I did when I was going through that very stormy season in my life, so letting her go, while difficult, was something that I was able to do, and while knowing that she is gone isn’t easy, I am able to accept it, as her season of life came to an end and it was time for her to move on to the next season, whatever that may be... I have had other animal friends over the years that have touched my life and who I bonded with, like our family dog Katie (who was also a Schipperke as Shasta was) who passed away when I was a teenager, and my cat Merlin (another black cat like Roxy) who passed away not long before we adopted Shasta and Roxy, and Shasta now joins these animal friends in my memories, and she will always hold a special place in my heart... I will miss you Shasta, and I want to thank you for being there for me through some very tough times in my life, and wanted to thank you for the adventures you shared with me, and I truly hope that the adventure you are on now will be the biggest of them all, and I hope that, from time to time, I can feel your spirit walking beside me...

#shasta #dog #schipperke #big adventures #in memory of

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vileart · 7 years

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Gazing at a Distant Dramaturgy: James Haddrell @ Edfringe 2017

As part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2017, Greenwich Theatre presents

GAZING AT A DISTANT STAR

Directed by James Haddrell, Written by Siân Rowland

Shortlisted for the 2016 RED Women's Theatre Awards Gazing At A Distant Star will be performed from Thursday 3 - Monday 28 August at Assembly George Square (studio 5), 12.15pm.

Arun saves for university. Anna trains for a dreaded 5k run. Karen searches for her missing son. This acclaimed play is about those who go missing and the people who are left behind. The piece sees three lives struggling to cope with loss and find the light beyond.

In the UK, more than 250,000 children, young people and adults go missing every year. Gazing At A Distant Star explores what it means to be one of the people left behind, often left without any knowledge of where those who are missing have gone, whether they are alive or dead, even why they left in the first place. The production had a sell-out run in the new Greenwich Theatre studio in January 2017 and written by Missing People Choir member Siân Rowland and directed by Greenwich Theatre’s Artistic Director James Haddrell.

What was the inspiration for this performance?

Writer Sian Rowland is closely linked to the Missing People choir – the group of amateur singers that rocketed into the public eye when they reached the final of Britain’s Got Talent earlier this year. Having heard the stories of countless people who have lost loved ones, and being drawn to stories in the press about those who go missing she was particularly interested in writing about that, but not a classic pop-culture thriller about a dramatic search for someone who has gone missing. Rather she was interested in the experience of those left behind, often living for decades without knowing whether their loved one disappeared out of choice or by tragic circumstance, whether they are alive or dead, or whether they will ever see them again.

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas?

Yes, absolutely, but with one major proviso. It is common in the arts to attract an audience with a particular political and social outlook, so there is a risk of preaching to the converted. However, that being said, live performance is still the most impactful form of entertainment, and seeing the huge increase in interest in, and donations to, the Missing People charity after their prime-time TV performances this year, it certainly has the power to move and to stimulate action.

How did you become interested in making performance?

I did not have the opportunity to see a great deal of live performance when I was very young, but theatre trips with school were a bit of an epiphany for me. I’ve always liked storytelling, in any form, so when I did get the chance to go to the theatre, having the storytelling experience that I’d previously found through reading books, listening to audiobooks and watching tv shows brought to life by actors on stage was inspiring.

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?

Gazing At A Distant Star is about three people who have lost someone close to them, and those three people tell the audience their stories. However, we’ve always been aware that whilst the characters on stage are speaking from the ends of their stories, the audience have to go on the journey that the characters have already experienced or there is no drama. Therefore the three actors step in and out of each other’s stories, bringing them to life, taking the audience backwards and forwards through their lives. The three characters don’t know each other – they are all very different, and from very different backgrounds – but their lives do intersect here and there so we’ve enjoyed exploring those sparks between them. We have also been thinking about the fact that this could happen to anyone. Any of us could lose a loved one and not know why. It often comes as a complete surprise to those left behind, so we have literally bleached all of the identity out of the set and props. It’s all there but it has no identity whatsoever. Those photographs, or newspaper cuttings, or chairs, or telephones, could belong to any one of us.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

I don’t think I have a usual style of production. Under My Thumb, which I have also directed for this year’s Fringe and which is playing at Assembly Roxy, is a gritty, all female-thriller set in a dystopian version of the world where women are imprisoned for speaking out against abuse. I guess if there’s one thing that does characterise my shows, it’s truthful performances. In both shows, in one version of the world or another, these events could happen to anyone so the characters on stage have to be very real.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

With luck they will share the emotions of the characters on stage, and those are very varied. It would be easy to settle on sadness or depression, and those feelings are clearly very relevant, but our characters go through anger with the person who has disappeared, hope that they will return, joy in reliving past memories, and maybe, in some cases, resolution. If audiences can share those journeys, and revel in Sian Rowland’s sensitive, funny, astonishingly perceptive writing then the cast and I will have done our jobs properly.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

The show is based on direct address to the audience, as a surrogate for someone or something else. Anna talks to a photograph, Karen talks to her videophone and Arun talks endlessly on the phone in the call centre, but for us the most direct impact on the audience is generated by talking directly, so very quickly those theatrical devices become secondary to the three characters talking to the audience. We also didn’t want the show to seem like 3 interwoven reminiscences or lectures, so we do use a range of theatrical extras to animate the show, through light, sound, music and the animation of the past through scenes played by the full cast. Ultimately, these three emotional stories are brought together in a piece of complete theatre played by three incredibly talented actors and in the case of each character the audience, having spent an hour in their company, will have understood the joy that existed before the disappearance, the confusion and the range of emotion that accompanied the gradual release of information, and the resolution reached by the characters at the end, whatever that may be.

Writer Sian Rowland has a background as an education consultant and trainer, Siân came to playwriting three years ago after being recognised by Funny Women as one of their ‘ones to watch.’ She has created a broad portfolio of short and one act plays which have played at venues including Southwark Playhouse, Wimbledon Theatre Studio, The Etcetera and The Cockpit. She writes comedy for News Revue, the world’s longest running live comedy show at Canal Café Theatre and is a reviewer for London Pub Theatres. Siân was a finalist in the Red Women’s Theatre Awards for her short play Spurn The Dust.

James Haddrell – Director, is also the Artistic & Executive Director of Greenwich Theatre, chair of Filament Theatre, a mentor for UK Theatre and a governor for Corelli College. In his role for Greenwich Theatre he has provided everything from direction and dramaturgy to company mentoring and strategic planning for over twenty of the UK’s most exciting young and emerging theatre companies. Most recent direction includes One Georgie Orwell for performances in London and New York, Hannah and Hanna (New Diorama Theatre, Assembly Edinburgh Fringe, Greenwich Theatre), and Joël Pommerat’s This Child (Greenwich Book Festival). As a producer his credits include ten Greenwich Theatre pantomimes, hailed by the media as ranking among the best in the country, and the world premieres of Keeping Up With The Joans by Philip Meeks, Momo adapted by Filament Theatre from the novel by Micheal Ende, and the site specific production of Utopia, awarded the London 2012 Inspire Mark by the International Olympic Committee. This autumn he will produce the national tour of Daniele Imara’s Get Therapy.

LISTINGS INFORMATION: Gazing At A Distant Star will be performed from Thursday 3 - Monday 28 August at Assembly George Square (studio 5), 12.15pm. Tickets £6 - £12 Website: greenwichtheatre.org.

from the vileblog http://ift.tt/2tZd8wl

#Theatre #Blogger #visual art #Edinburgh Fringe #Experimental Critique

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

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HS^2 bloggin’ upd8 2020-01-17

Alright, morningblogging yesterday’s 2020-01-17 upd8 to Homestuck^2 let’s go! Spoiler-free again. I kinda don’t want even the next chapter names image-spoiled above the cut anymore so I’m going to have to figure out WHAT to put above the cut in these liveblog posts for visual reinforcement... a unique silly icon? Going back once I’m done with the upd8 and posting something non-spoilery but weird-looking out of context?

Eh, can’t be assed. Just know that after this I’m going to pony up for the Patreon commentary and skim it for anything plot-useful to y’all (in a separate post). Let’s get started.

Okay, what’s next: Any bonuses? Oh, none! Phew. Unless those are coming faster too and just staggered differently, which would mean I gotta overcome my irrational pre-Homestuck-reading anxiety even MORE often. :T

No Homestuck you don’t GET to ask how my-- ah, right. :P

(FYI, HS^2 has been good to my emotions so far, quite a balm for the epilogues, so once I START reading I’m usually fine; but after being hurt so badly how could I possibly convince my lizard brain to trust it until it’s right in front of me? Seriously, just hearing that the upd8 has landed messes me up a bit until I come fix it by reading w/ y’all here.)

Okay, so whose feelings? As much as I’ve been waiting for Jade, I hope this isn’t about Jade.

> ==>

Ah fuck, we’re finally with the Pursuit Crew. Bracing myself. That means we get to see probably sleeping Jade ( :C ), full-swing DaveKat (approving nod), the first canon onscreen look at masculine-mode Roxy (<3), a probably pretty pissed off Kanaya (possibly either the feelings target, the one Saying How Are Your Feelings, or both), and uh... did they drag Callie along? Or leave her back there with her meta freakout? Probably left her back there, but... hm.

Let me turn up the brightness on this screen to sear these next pages into my retinas. (Also, it feels odd to still be using a four-person “==>” for these, although if Jade is still asleep the numbers might fit on both ends... :c )

> ==>

I don’t think Dad is in the spacefaring business, so this is probably one of Jake’s shittier spaceship designs.

> ==>

...well that’s a touch disturbing. Is that a Jade-occupied bed or are those just pillows?

Oh what the fresh fanfic’y heck is this command.

> i enter.

Okay that’s great. I got a kick out of that.

JADE [in calliope red]: the prince’s power grows.

--but that’s not. That explains the narrative command text, it’s alt!callie talking through a still conked-out Jade. Please let her wake up between speak-throughs, please tell me you’ve learned that trick?? I already know you’re gonna pull an “oh she was asleep pretty much all of those THREE YEARS OF TRAVEL” thing on me and that’s hard fucking enough to deal with.

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST!

He’s actually using the full curse correctly, huh?

...These commands. Guess part of the puzzle is how much alt!Callie is being typically morbid and how much she might actually be wising up enough to get a kick out of this.

> the knight of blood falls.

DAVE: dude can you chill for like even a single fucking second DAVE: also are you ok

Has CallieJade chilled for even a single second this entire trip?? Is he asking just if Karkat’s okay or Jade too???

--yeah I’m overblowing things out of nervousness. Just wait and see a bit, boots.

Alt!Callie has at least learned to be more of a smartass:

> karkat is characteristically appreciative of the alarm call.

Shirt trade Karkat, nice. And uh, Jade’s dress sure is a... dress. Hm.

(Did alt!Callie alchemize adjustments to did she just luck out to have a red-symbol’d Bec belt and accent leggings? I’d prefer the former, because as much as it would be acceptable within Homestuck proper, using the transition between the epilogues and this new-author’d work to just HAPPEN to give her a fitting outfit without an excuse via providence is kind of lazy.)

KARKAT: OH, PARDON THE FUCK OUT OF ME FOR OVERREACTING A LITTLE WHEN MY GOOD FRIEND "POSSESSED JADE" BUSTS INTO MY RESPITEBLOCK AT 5 AM! KARKAT: NEXT TIME I’LL JUST PULL THE COVERS BACK AND LET HER CLIMB IN! JADE: i am uninterested in that scenario. KARKAT: GREAT! POSSESSED JADE ISN’T EVEN HORNY! HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?

...please let that mean he’s not used to her being possessed all the time and she wakes up sometimes. PLEASE.

DAVE: but im pretty sure i locked that door JADE: i unlocked it with my mind. DAVE: fuck KARKAT: FANTASTIC. JADE: the prince’s powers are growing, but so are mine.

Dave, I’m pretty sure regular-ass no-Green-Sun Space powers can flip a few lock tumblers too. (--though, I guess from context this was a Jakeship technolock. Confirmation on the ship’s bad taste in design. --I think I’m foggily remembering it said in the Epilogues that they took one of Jake’s ships just like Dirk did, too... man, being depressed so much by the Epilogues sure took a lot out of my ability to recall them decently.)

KARKAT: LIKE YOU DON’T FLOAT AROUND LIKE A CREEPY PIECE OF SHIT ALL DAY AS IT IS?

God DAMN IT she’s been asleep and possessed the whole fucking time.

> sleep is abandoned, coffee sought.

More obligatory DaveKat being cute, somehow only emphasized by the embarrassing glowing-with-power observer who doesn’t really get any of it.

Ah, here we go:

> the rogue is also awake.

Oh huh. Cool!

Hero outfit, understated... her his choice of heart-shades color-coded to stand out from Dave more to avoid further mistaken identity cases. Works well! (Holy shit I only JUST remembered at the end to go back and correctly gender Roxy as him, that was close. I blame the epilogues for a lack of visual reinforcement; I shouldn’t have as much trouble soon enough. Seriously, I don’t remember ANYTHING without visual reinforcement, I think that’s why I remember so much of Homestuck proper so clearly.)

KARKAT: OH SHIT, THERE SHE IS! I DIDN’T EVEN HEAR HER FOLLOW US! ROXY: sometimes a girls just got to get her drift on i guess ROXY: it be like that

ilu roxy.

I missed Roxy so much, you guys. I need more of him remarking on all this crazy shit if I’m gonna stay sane though all this. (And I need more of him and AWAKE JADE kicking ass independently or together if I’m going to continue to believe there’s justice in the world.)

> ==>

We rarely saw Rose drinking anything but the rare coffee in canon, but I think Kanaya would have gotten her plenty into tea, yes. Or at the very least, wanting the aesthetic of drinking tea with Kanaya would have gotten Rose into tea even if it never crossed Kanaya’s mind to try the stuff.

ROXY: well i mean who knows what she drinks now ROXY: dirk probs tossed the coffee machine out the space window right away ROXY: dude doesnt "believe" in "substances" > the prince is contemplated for a moment in silence.

FUCK, Dirk can see the narrative all the way out here??? No wonder alt!Callie’s forced to have possession turned on 24/7. That’s fucking disappointing. How the hell are we going to get any proper Jade time with THAT hanging over our heads? She’d only be able to do anything when Dirk’s knocked out, and maybe not even THEN!

I was virtually promised more of actual non-asleep Jade getting shit done in HS^2. Now there’s an even longer wait on it than I expected. This sucks.

(EDIT: BOY did I misread that link line. Thinking “is contemplated” meant is sitting contemplating, when it meant "is being contemplated by everyone here". That was dumb of me.)

*clicks that next link*

Oh my goodness, Roxy joined the Bird Hair Crew. It makes him look like a fucking asshole but I kind of love it.

KARKAT: IS THERE MILK?

I can’t believe Karkat is okay with drinking milk. --yes, culturally Trolls are more comfortable with animal excretions than we are, but you would’ve thought years of railing against Equius would have purged any tolerance the idea of milk from his psyche.

I guess Dave introduced him to cereal, and it was all over from there.

DAVE: this is more like a castle DAVE: a castle of idk DAVE: twenty something ennui

Sounds like a relatable mood. Especially considering Dirk probably decided to conquer reality out of almost nothing but twenty-something ennui.

Alright. You aren’t going to turn Kanaya into an alcoholic or anything on us are you?

> the knight of time seeks a sylph...

--this is the shittiest shipboard starship aesthetic.

> ...and finds her, momentarily.

WOW that looks fucking depressed. :(

> ==>

...okay you know what? Never mind. That outfit has wrapped straight back around into Trying Too Hard and is now hilarious.

DAVE: you ever feel like our whole lives are eventually gonna end up like this DAVE: just blasting through space on a sweeps long journey to ""somewhere"" chasing after or running from some vague enemy thats sometimes a god modded pet dog and sometimes your dad DAVE: without the faintest fucking idea of whats going to happen when we get there DAVE: thats a little specific but you know what i mean

Why do you think the epilogues upset us so much? We thought we’d won free of that bullshit.

> ==>

Oh jesus christ that’s the most depressingly sad I’ve ever seen Kanaya drawn. :C

--Karkat got you to watch Serendipity? That’s amazing, Dave.

KANAYA: You Arent Reminding Me Of Her As I Rarely Think Of Anything Else KANAYA: I Close My Eyes And I See Her KANAYA: I Keep Them Open And I See Her

Fuck.

Y’know how little showing these two in love and actually HAPPY together we’ve seen in this entire comic and its subworks? Despite them having spent at least a few happy years together we only saw in tiny screenclips? And how Candy alluded super hard that they most likely couldn’t get that in this real timeline where shit’s going down?

Seriously, FUCK. You could at least pretend to give us some hope, here.

Oh no, don’t ask for the nursery story, Dave. Unless it turns out to be a funny one or a Rose twist on an old story or something. Which it probably is, I should stop worrying.

> ==>

KANAYA: Oh Its A Wriggler Story About A Young Prince And The Beloved Flower He Loved And Lost DAVE: flower DAVE: like a plant KANAYA: Its A Fairytale Dave DAVE: right KANAYA: A Singular Wild Rose He Failed To Cherish When He Had Her KANAYA: And His Journey Of Discovering What She Meant To Him All Along KANAYA: Culminating In A New Quest To Find Her And Win Her Back

Dirk you PIECE OF SHIT did you rewrite the narrative of the fucking STORIES SHE TOLD CHILDREN?!?? Does the fact that alt!Callie is only in the present mean he can rewrite ANY past event we didn’t literally SEE??? FUCK you. Seriously fuck all of this.

Please tell me she was kidding just then, or realizes there’s fucking something wrong with what she’s saying and getting angry or.

(EDIT: shoutyourporpoise replied: "Hey, idk If you picked up on this, but the 'nursery story' Rose told to the wigglers is just The Little Prince, which is maybe a BIT early for them to read, but I don't think that's a case of Dirk changing the narrative; its just Rose being Too Adult as usual." Oh, damn, I didn't even CATCH that it was that story. That makes all of this a lot more forgivable, even if pretty unforgivably leaning into the fiction that Dirk used to brainwash and kidnap her. Maybe that's exactly why it worked -- fiction, a story so blazed into the public consciousness? Hm. Thanks, shoutyourporpoise.)

KANAYA: But In A Way I Feel As If It Is the Greater Universe Trying To Tell Me Something

Mother fuck I’m even going to have to see our protagonists warped by Dirk when they’re ostensibly FULLY SHIELDED aren’t I. There’s only so much of that I would be able to take, you know.

KANAYA: It May Simply Stem From My Longing To See Her Again And How Much Is Indicative Of Something More Sinister KANAYA: She Is A Goddess Of Light And The Only Of Her Kind We Know Is Alive After All KANAYA: Maybe Shes Wrested Dominion Of The Entire Concept In All Its Appearances Within This Frame Of Reference

Hm. Well, it being a product of Rose’s ascension instead of Dirk’s is possibly a more charitable take, with Ultimate Rose projecting the delusion enforced on her backward, visible to past Rose’s Sight when she isn’t paying attention and thus paving the way for Dirk to paradoxically exploit that “ideal” as something Lighty and Important and “Perfect”. I still don’t fucking like it though.

> ==>

DAVE: sorry i know you say you got your badass monster powers but kanaya you look tired as hell DAVE: not that im tryna psyche you or whatever but youre waxing poetic in the dark which i guess is maybe on brand but still

Yyyep.

DAVE: unless terezi is lurking in the vents somewhere and now that i bring that up its actually not out of the question so im kind of gonna be thinking about that one for a while

Pffff.

DAVE: youre the only person i know whos still basically the same as when i met you

--Which is kind of going to have to change, right? She’s got some other cosmic purpose ready to change her a little more than she changed pre-human-troll-meetup, you’d think.

> ==>

Cute as hell.

> ==>

KANAYA: How Are Your Feelings

There’s the title drop. I’d think Dave’s doing pretty well, considering? Still fucked over by Dirk betraying and tricking Rose away who he’s been close with all his life, but.

> ==>

DAVE: except sometimes your best friend disappears and your other best friend goes into a ghost coma and your third best friend fucks off to space with your dad DAVE: the dude youve spent the last 7 years convincing yourself isnt an egomaniacal anime villain DAVE: and who isnt actually lying in wait to completely decimate your life and your emotions and shit

Ah... yeah. A little worse than my casual list, huh? Forgot that Jade vanishing into a possession-coma for THREE FUCKING YEARS is going to be hard on people inside the comic too, fuck.

DAVE: maybe it was naive to think that a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society

I was honestly surprised they TRIED to run society at all. Jasp even just highlighted a big reason why not in the bonuses.

DAVE: cool how earth c existed for centuries then we show up and manage to ruin society in seven fucking years

Well, the trolls got THEIR lesson on why they didn’t deserve to rule over their new universe like gods; I guess some of y’all needed that lesson too?

DAVE: every serious conversation i have inevitably falls apart into riffing on a casual acquaintances ass

True.

Dammit, Dave didn’t feel like he could just be Some Guy even on Earth C. :(

> ==>

...don’t think I’ve forgotten that nursery story, though. I don’t want to think that it was something that ACTUALLY past happened, especially not without manipulation. Like maybe past Rose was foreseeing the false purpose that Dirk wrote for her or the like, a cooperative misunderstanding between the two instead of Dirk or Rose literally reaching back in time.

> meanwhile...

KARKAT: WAIT, WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN ASKING? HE’S OBVIOUSLY NOT FINE. KARKAT: ARE ANY OF US? ARE YOU? ROXY: not rly KARKAT: EXACTLY.

--Oh right. I remember that Callie and Roxy were going reasonably steady in Meat even though it was only alluded to, she didn’t freak out and stay awol or what have you. That’s good to remember. But it means Roxy deliberately left her behind to go on this dangerous quest, for years. :C

KARKAT: KANAYA BARELY EVEN TALKS, CALLIOPE WON’T LEAVE THEIR CABIN, JADE JUST FLOATS AROUND LIKE A CREEPY BALLOON THAT’S MOSTLY MADE OF HAIR.

Oh, SHIT. I should have read one line further. They DID bring her. Alt!Callie being here too must really FUCK with her. ...maybe she can actually learn to accept that alternate way her life might’ve played out, though?

KARKAT: THE REALLY FUCKED UP THING IS I MIGHT BE THE MOST OKAY OUT OF ALL OF US, WHICH IS HOW YOU KNOW SHIT HAS REALLY GONE GLOBES UP.

Quite true.

ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO.

Pff.

> ==>

KARKAT: AGAINST PRETTY MUCH ALL ODDS, AND DESPITE ME NOT DESERVING ANY OF IT, I ENDED UP GETTING PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING I WANTED. KARKAT: OVER AND OVER AGAIN. KARKAT: SOMETIMES IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE WHATEVER SLATHERING MONSTROSITY OF A COSMIC HELLBEAST THAT PUT ALL THIS SHIT INTO MOTION...ACTUALLY LIKES ME?

Well, if you want to blame Lord English for instance... we never saw Caliborn and Karkat interact much, but the parallels between the two were drawn so severely that Caliborn was basically the idealized, multiverse-threatening Ultimate Kismesis that he’d always dreamed of. And operated against him without him even ever quite realizing it.

If a level of “respect” went from Caliborn to Karkat, too, from his Lord-Englishy vision nigh-omnipresent, then this outcome isn’t very surprising at all.

> ==>

(I don’t quite feel I get why Roxy shifted to this exasperated-Dave expression, but I get logically that he’d been waiting for Karkat to make a breakfast choice... Homestuck proper rarely pulled a “last line said corresponds to next-panel’s expression” without either leaving the conversation blank or having the NEXT lines of the conversation reinforce it, to prevent this inelegant misunderstanding. Andrew was really damned talented in getting his point across visually, in that regard. Just like, that careful visual intent delivery.)

Alright, I guess that’s it for this short upd8! Meeting the pursuit crew was both more and less difficult than I expected. Hopefully I get desensitized a bit as the characters continue to feel semi-almost-sorta-fine.

I have NO idea how this group is gonna work as a proper crew when we get to whatever weird other-players’ session this shit is going down in, though.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #spoiler #spoilers #shoutyourporpoise

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