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imnotcameraready · 5 years

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chivalry is dead (epilogue 2)

A/N: wowee it’s been a long long long week. i just started my new job OFFICIALLY today! so yeehaw to that! its been a lot of working and running around but between everything i managed to not only crank this shorty out, but also get a headstart on epilogue 3. which is. gonna be long.,..the outline i write for myself pre-chapter writing is already longer than this chapter laksdghaslfk

WARNINGS: Remus is in it lol, a pillow fight, scars, mentions of weaponry, mentions of fights, argument mentions — hopefully this covers it! let me know if i missed anything!

Words: 2428

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST <-- here’s your one stop shop for all the other chapters and the long term warnings!!

enjoy! love you !!

Roman closed the door carefully behind himself, letting out an exhale. He then rested his forehead on the door, smiling a soft and true smile to himself.

It’d been a week since his little incident, and he had never felt so loved. Patton and him had cooked dinner, dancing around each other, and heck, they’d gotten Logan to sing when they revealed it was breakfast for dinner. Who knew the man could drop bars for Crofters? Well, they all knew, but he’d let Virgil tape it for future reference. Deceit had even helped do the dishes with Virgil afterward, leaning against each other in a way that — Logan posited the theory, but Roman was inclined to agree — was all too familiar to be a new thing.

All in all. It was fairly good. He was healing. He hadn’t changed his countenance around the others since his return, despite the gnawing desire to throw on a fresh layer of skin and his uniform every day. Sometimes, like today, he wore other kinds of fancy clothing. Playwright did have one thing on the money: vests looked so cute.

God, he was excited to lay down in bed. Hopefully continue to iron out his thoughts. They had a script, too, that had to be edited. He and Logan had to do that tomorrow.

“Oh, good, you’re back,” he turned around, hand flying to his sword on instinct, but the sound of compressed air being released eased his worries.

There were few constants in his room. He liked having a bed. His desk always remained the same, cluttered with papers and make-up products. Usually there was a window, so he could look out at some kind of view, and there were fairy lights, and a vanity mirror.

One such constant was the bookshelf. They’d made it soon after the first Split, a secret doorway between the two sides of the Mindscape, because they’d promised to be friends forever. That promise was usually under strain. They were at each other’s throats so often that it was easy to forget that they were also friends. And, at times when Remus’ morningstar was pressed against his chest, Roman’s sword drawing a thin line against his throat, it was easy to forget. So easy.

Still. They didn’t think anyone would approve of their promise, not after Creativity was split, regardless of why. The bookshelf would open if Roman pulled “The Prince and The Duke,” a fake novel for a fake door. The same thing would happen if, on the other side, Remus tugged the handle of the sword on his weapons wall. “As if I’d ever use something so boring,” Remus had joked when they made it.

There were times when they wouldn’t open the door for a day. Sometimes it wouldn’t open for weeks. Months. Years, for a small time. But they couldn’t disconnect the Imagination, would accidentally run into each other, would accidentally apologize. Would be friends again.

They’d been arguing, before the incident. Roman had been angry with how Remus made himself known in the last episode. He’d agreed to it once everyone else expressed that they thought it would match Remus’ characterization, would be comedic, would assert his villain-self, but Roman of course never agreed with it internally.

Remus had given him his space. And then had accidentally ended up trapped in the Imagination. That’d never happened before, so he sought out Roman, and, well. Found the Damsel instead.

Roman wondered if it was jarring. If Remus was angry with him. The Dragon and the Damsel were incredibly volatile and aggressive, even with him. The Dragon had said some things. Not all of them were things Roman agreed with, would have voiced had he been given the option, but they were all things he’d thought before. That he was objectively better. That Remus was cast out for a reason. Things Roman had definitely thought, but would die before voicing. Hopefully getting to physically kick the shit out of the Dragon helped Remus let off some steam.

“You’re quite put together, brother,” Remus drawled from the now-open doorway, “Do you have gel in your hair?”

Roman lowered his hand from his sword. There wasn’t any anger in his voice, but Remus was good at being unpredictable, even offstage. “I took everyone to see my library,” he spun around, then began unhooking his sheath belt from his side, “I thought it was a momentous occasion.”

Remus was still in his pajamas, an oversized sweater and some short-shorts, lazily eating some whipped cream straight from the canister. Roman watched as he lifted the container to his mouth and absolutely filled it with whipped cream, smacking on it happily. Then he held out the can to Roman.

Okay, so he wasn’t mad. That was nice. Roman’s shoulders finally loosened, and he nodded. Remus tossed the can across the room, which Roman caught and consumed easily, spraying his own mouth full of the air-liquid-solid sugary goodness. He could almost hear Logan telling him off for the unhealthy decisions but, well, c’est la vie and it tasted good.

He tossed the canister back and began taking off his vest as Remus entered the room, stealing a quick glance out the window as he did.

It seemed Roman was tired of the kingdom, because before them was a sprawling city, something out of a comic book. His room looked like it was the penthouse apartment of some building, looming over the other towers, cars honking and lights flashing below. It was night, and this was the night life of his city.

Remus was kinda fond of the city. Whether they were just people, or superhero and archnemesis, or unlikely companions on a mission, it was always so interesting. Yes, companions. You can’t expect Remus to always want to play the villain, despite it being his favorite role. And, similarly, when they were an evil duo….those were especially fun times, indeed.

He liked working together. Roman was a dumb bitch a lot of the time, yeah, he was soft and a people pleaser and was so full of himself that there wasn’t any room for anything else. But brothers were brothers, and he did love his brother. The other Sides got to love him, too, in a much different way. Remus wouldn’t hesitate to decapitate any of them if they were mean to Roman.

Oop! But for now!

He threw himself onto Roman’s bed, rolling around on top of it to get the blankets stinky, and then propped himself up on his elbows. Roman, now just wearing just his black slacks, shot him a look of disgust.

Meanwhile, Remus was just looking at Roman’s scars. He usually hid them; they were always striking. Remus had even given him a few! Like that one, on his shoulder — and that one, on the back of his neck — and that one, on his spine — “Do you mind,” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow at him while toying with the white dress shirt in his hand.

“Since when does your Highness physically do anything?” Remus joked, kicking a leg up in a pose. “You can just conjure on new clothes.”

“I’m going to physically throw you off of my bed if you keep messing it around,” Roman shot back, tossing his shirt at Remus.

He failed to catch the shirt and it smacked straight into his face, and thus Remus’ only viable answer, as a sibling and as a chaos gremlin, was to spray whipped cream into his brother’s bed. Retribution! The shirt covered his face, though, so he just laid down and made snow-angels. Except, you know. On Roman’s bed. Which was now covered in whipped cream.

“I’m just freshening it up for you!” Remus laughed, “I want all the best for my baby, baby brother!”

He heard Roman scoff, then make an incredibly offended noise. He probably finally noticed the disaster state that his bed was in.

“I’m older. And done,” Roman said, tone as defeated as they come.

“But you’re still a baby,” Remus responded as he rolled over, taking Roman’s shirt off of his face and throwing it back at his pajama-ed princely brother. Roman, now wearing pajama pants, grabbed the shirt and tossed it into his laundry hamper, where it promptly vanished. Why wash clothing when you can think up new ones? I mean, Patton enjoyed the concept of domestic activities, Logan enjoyed order, but Roman didn’t care much for doing chores.

Roman looked back at his mess of a bed as Remus hopped off of it, waving his hand to clean it. The whipped cream vanished, the blanket tucked itself once more, and the smell of roses wafted off of it.

“And you’re still a nuisance,” Roman found himself saying.

There was a pause.

Roman looked up. Why the fuck did he say that? He looked at Remus, who was halfway through the doorway. Putting away the whipped cream maybe?

Leaving now? He was frozen. Remus wasn’t moving, and Roman didn’t blame him. His throat felt like it was closing. He hadn’t meant to say that. Well, he had, but he hadn’t mean to be so mean.

He was always so mean! Always pushing the others away!

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Roman stepped closer, he didn’t want to keep pushing people away, he COULDN’T, “You’re not a nuisance. I...I’m sorry, I said a lot of things—”

“Don’t.”

Roman recoiled, flinching as Remus set the canister down in his room and turned around on the ball of his foot. His face was flat, lacking in expression, hands loose at his sides. It was always weird to see Remus without any exuberance.

It was weird, until Remus smiled. A small, kind smile. One of those smiles that only Roman and, on some occasions, Deceit was privy to. He held open his arms and Roman, well. He wasn’t one to deny a hug.

Remus’ hands curled around his shoulders, squeezing the living daylights out of him, while Roman just held him as tenderly as he could against himself. “I know what having no filter’s like,” Remus said, voice quiet and leading into a small, confessional giggle, “And I can’t say I haven’t thought equally devious thoughts about you, Prince Perfect.”

“That’s weirdly promising,” Roman murmured. His hand squeezed Remus’ shoulder, and he pressed his nose into his brother’s collar.

Figuratively, he did feel a weight leave his shoulders. He didn’t want to make an enemy out of his brother, no matter what the world expected of them. No matter what he wanted in the flash anger of a moment

“It is, isn’t it!” Remus squeezed him tight once more, then let go of him, grinning ear to ear as though he was proud, “I was a li~ittle offended at first but, well. It’s hard to offend me for long.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that one. Roman was often the one to instigate their arguments. Mostly out of offense.

He smirked, though the happiness, comfort in his eyes made it clear to Remus that he

“.....Thanks, Remus.”

“My pleasure, Prince Pea-brain,” then Remus giggled, and followed his statement with an elaboration, “Pee, you know, like pea but also like pee, like piss.”

“I see,” Roman leaned out of the hug, a small, happy smile on his lips. Sure, yeah, that was a disgusting image. He didn’t need to see it in his mind’s eye. But! He didn’t want to upset his brother!

Remus straightened up, then conjured a hot dog. He grinned cookedly and asked, “Gee, Roman, how come Thomas lets you have FOUR boyfriends?”

Roman laughed, moving back toward the bed, expecting Remus to leave almost. They were done, right? Remus didn’t have to stick around. Roman had no expectations. “Because I’m the hot twin,” he said with a smirk.

“Hot as a hot dog on the sidewalk pavement,” the hotdog in Remus’ hand turned into a pillow, which he used to smack Roman in the face with. “Covered in spilt popsicle and snow and pee, Prince Pee-brain.”

Roman spluttered, arms immediately shooting to protect his face, despite the pillow being a lot softer than a morning star. Still, he laughed.

At least it was a pillow!

“Holy fuck, ew,” Roman grabbed himself a pillow off of his bed and smacked Remus in the side with it.

Remus just laughed. These arguments were fun. The ones with no stakes other than making the other think something ridiculously outlandish.

It was good to have his brother back. Remus was certain Roman knew by now that he was happy to see him, he was so relieved that he was okay. Of course, he’d rather have his tongue cut out and grilled and served as BBQ before inflating Roman’s ego anymore, but, then again….he was glad that his concern was over Roman having too much of an ego than none at all.

“I’m right and you know it,” he retorted, smacking Roman once more in the head with his pillow before tossing it back onto the bed and hopping away toward the window.

Roman recoiled, making an exaggeratedly disgusted expression. He swung at Remus as he fled, but found him out of reach. At that, he “Am I allowed to hate that visual? Because I do.”

“Love you, too, Abel,” Remus stuck his tongue out at Roman, who smacked him with the pillow once more before tossing it back onto his bed.

Then, he fell against the cushions. It had been a week, yes, but everything was still sore. And Remus was just going to keep jumping around. Might as well verbally fence with him from laying down.

“I am a sacrificial lamb,” Roman’s voice took on a deadpan tone, “And God is my brother with a morning star.”

They both laughed at that one, airing out the last threads of the already. loosely-wound argumentative knot. Remus fell back against Roman’s bed with him, heads only lightly resting against each other, while Roman reached up. The ceiling opened up at his command, the Imagination swirling above them like a cyclonic galaxy, stars glittering on the black backdrop of nothingness and space. It was all theirs. Their kingdom, built separately yet together.

Roman exhaled. It was all so….pleasant. “Thank you, Remus,” he murmured. “For believing in me.”

Remus knocked his head against Roman’s, earning a small chuckle. “I always have.”

He paused for a second, turning back up to the ceiling, then added. “We’re the king, after all.”

“That we are,” Roman said, “That we are.”

Taglists!!

General: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

chivalry is dead: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom @sos-fandoms @gattonero17 @thiaholimon @psychixx

#chivalry au #roman #remus #roman sanders #remus sanders #my fic #fic #ts remus #ts roman #pics #lmao im sorry remus is canon now #sorry not sorry #i love him #he's my son and he just says what he thinks #they're dumb and soft ok i dont make the rules #thomas sanders #sanders sides #ts fanfic

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curejoosy · 5 years

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Wooo

Gift for the PrettyCure Secret Exchange event!! (2019 mwehehehe) I finally get to showcase this piece qwq (i finished this in early August so you bet i was hyping in showing this)

This gift was sincerely for @curejune Their works are super adorbs, pls go check em out if you havent!! ^^

i really hope you like this piece as i usually dont digitally draw with this much-- (furthermore colour with this much detail, lol)

Kay ill shut up & show,

me rambling under cut >w>

(i additionally made an icon out of boredom eheheehehehh)

links for better quality!! ^^

Full drawing: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/550107404411338754/614725567333531681/IMG_4299.PNG

Icon: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/443107856825188362/614732551717650432/IMG_4300.JPG

This was so hard choosing on what character to draw!!!! when June mentioned Phantom Thieves and Blue Cat, I was like “YEs, I aM a PErsONa 5 fAn tOO, yAAAASSS” so now we have this drawing that i had produced on IbisPaint X feat. my crusty finger. took me like 5 drafts and x02394095 references-

Colouring her hair was fun and i am mostly proud of how that turned out.

Ok sO it was honestly a real pain in finding Blue Cat’s perfume for references.

In the magazines she’s got a blue one, in the anIme sHEs gOt iT gOLd-

and dont get me started on the proportions of the bow and perfume cap!!! >:0000

the background was also a bit of a twist as wowee - i dont draw Backgrounds. so i went with those city light aesthetic(?) with more references from the anime

(i additionally made the drawing an icon out of boredom eheheehehehh)

all together they were like up to 40 layers ( i had to merge some because it just kept lagging skdksksks)

anyways i think thats all!! ^^ once again, I really hope you like my gift!!!! ^^

Feel free to dm me on tumblr if ya wanna chat ab fandoms n trash UWU i gradually reply. (applies to anyone rly im alone ;w;)

#precure secret exchange precure prettycure anime star twinkle precure

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moonraccoon-exe · 5 years

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Hi there :) ok, so first of all, your pseudo is amazing. Anyway, you were wondering if I was paying intention to the tags... of course omg!!! You put so much energy and love in your comment how could I not have seen it? seriously?? and true fact, I loose time every morning to check the reblogs just in case people put some stuff in the tags and idk, i cannot ignore it. So don't worry your endless tags full of feels will not end into the void ;) thanks you soooo much and have a great day!!

AKSLJDFLKGA DJLKGAJS FLKADJG ALDKGJ AKLDGJAKLG ZOMG ZOMG SCREEEEEEEEEECH IT’S AESTRAMA SAMA IN MY INBOX IT’S AN ARTIST OF PHENOMENAL ART IN MY INBOX SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*EXPLODES*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

PEOPLE GO CHECK THEIR ART OUT IT’S FANTASTIC AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH ASDKLJDAG KDJ GLAKDJGAD

OMG. OMG. ASKJDAFDKHLJ ADKLFAJ DGKLADJGADK ADKLGJADLGKAD

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH, AESTRAMA SAMA I DON’T KNOW HOW TO REPLY TO YOU HGNNHFHNFG HKFGNH OMG I DIDN’T REALLY THINK YOU’D ACTUALLY DROP BY HNHG AAAAAHHHHH

Let me- let me add a keep reading here, aye? Ah. Omh. Aha,dg

Look, I REALLY want to freak out here because ZOMG IT U, but the truth is I can’t look at your inbox and freak out because I HAVE FAILED YOU OTL

It took me forever, but I did add the tags to yoru artwork where I asked you if you wanted me to…it’s here, if you want to check it out, but…know that I failed you… ;A;

Tumblr only allows 30 tags and there was NO WAY on this planet that I would put my thoughts and impressions of your artwork in only 30 tags, considering as well the space I use for search purposes which left me with like 20 and as hard as I tried to fill them as much as they allow me to, I just…didn’t get even ¼ to what I wanted to express… OTL

So I’m sorry that I kept you waiting for so AGONIZINGLY LONG and it’s not a big deal. You probably expected more but what did you expect me to say? Your art is beyond my vocabulary and mortal comprehension, I couldn’t do it as hard as I tried…forgive this mortal that adores your art but has no idea of how to express how much, almighty Aestrama… OTL

SO WHAT ABOUT I KEEP RANTING HERE BECAUSE I DON’T FEEL FULFILLED YET

IT’S JUST

AKSDLJF

AKSLDJFG LKAJDFKLAS GDKLJLAKDJ FLDKAGJALDKGAD JLK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY WHOLEHEARTEDLY LOVE THAT ARTWORK OF YOURS KAJSDKALJG OMG I HAD ALREADY SEEN TWO OR SO ARTWORKS FROM YOU BUT THAT ONE SORTA SLAYED ME ;A;

The Regis-Noct relationship is my fave and it’s always so heartbreaking and touching, and you made it so…beautiful in a way I can’t describe. Your artwork itself radiates all this joy, all this sentiment, kasjdladkgjadkgjda, the artwork contains some load of emotion, and it transmits another load, and honestly, that’s what I think art is.

Not to talk about your art. Which is what I think I talked the less about when it should have been in first place because WOWEE, LOOK AT YOUR ART!!!!!!!!!!

And that one artwork is so good and so nice, because while it’s a fun and cute style, it’s not an artwork to laugh with, it really is touching and heartwarming. It may be the look on Regis’ face, happy and content, when in canon we’re not used to see him smile. I LOVE the colors and how you mad eof blue and black hues so happy and lighthearted. Lighthearted, that’s a word I’d give to it. That, and wholesome.

All in all, I think that your WONDERFUL art skills and the emotion within, plus the emotion it transmits really do a fantastic and phenomenal job at giving that one artwork its impact and impression. It’s really something I can’t put into words and that I will forever love akjsdlkajg aaah… ;__________;

AND THAT’S THAT. I’M SORRY I BURST INTO A RANT, IT’S JUST- I LOVE THAT WORK SO MUCH OTL

A-aah….and…omg…thank you for thinking that my pseudo is amazing, ahah, aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!! (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) Thank you!!!

Also, I get what you mean with checking reblogs in case people put something in the tags. I do that, too, but sometimes I just stop checking because no one ever says a thing and I feel I’m just wasting my time. Which really made me think that the chances YOU checked the tags were so scarce, because a little writer with 20 or 30 tags gets tired sometimes from lack of tag content, and YOU, such a wonderful and skilled artist with 200 or more notes…??? So you probably check more reblogs with no tags, so it was probable you just didn’t check them anymore, which is fine and understandable!!

So it really surprised me that you sent this and let me know that you check them. That speaks so nicely about you…Thank you for taking the time to check the tags, despite knowing that maybe 1 in 15 people will say anything. Thank you, really, for checking them. It makes me so, so, so happy to know that my comments didn’t go to the void, at least now with you…thank you… :’)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AND THANK YOU SO SO SOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH FOR THINKING THAT I PUT SO MUCH ENERGY AND LOVE IN MY COMMENTS KLAJSD ALKGJ ADLKG JADLKGJ ADLKGAJD GLKA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Silly as it may sound, sometimes I do put so much energy into things, and I reblog so many things, that it does tire me out? Which is why, when I first reblogged that artwork of yours, I said that about being exhausted. Sorry if it sounds absurd… OTL

So that you notice that I put energy and love into my comments really makes me so, so, soooooooooooooo happy!!!!! OMg, thank you SO MUCH and immensely for acknowledging that!!!!!!!!! My tags most of the time (or so it feels) go to the void, so that you not only read them, but also acknowledge all the hype I put into them, it really means a lot to me!! ZOMG I DON’T KNOW HOW TO THANK YOU ASLDKFJG LKAJDG AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH ;w;

Thank you so, so, soooooooooo very and so dearly much for everything, dear artist. Thank you for taking the time to read the tags. Thank you even more for having taken up on my request and having dropped by to let me know that you were reading them. It really means a lot that despite how busy you may be and how much of a small blog I am, you still took the effort to write to me as a reply. Thank you for that, so, so immensely.

Thank you for your time and your attention, and thank you for being so immensely, incredibly kind and sweet with me. Besides a super skilled artist, you behaved with me like an incredible person. Thank you so much for being so nice and so friendly, you, wonderful creature… :’)

Thank you as well for sharing your PHENOMENAL art with us!!!! It’s made me so happy and I’m still marveled by it. Thank you!!!

All in all, thank you for everything, dear artist!!!!

I hope you’re having a MOST PHENOMENAL day or night!! Thank you!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

#coonreplies #aestrama #coonrants

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fourjokersandajudge · 3 years

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Impractical Jokers, Season 1, Episode 1 "Pay it Forward"

Liveblogging observations/opinions:

Wow! A different intro than what I'm used to. And no introductions of the individual guys (aka LARRY! I want my mommy! etc)

Wowee!!! Sal looks SO young. LOL! I'm thinking it's the lack of facial hair...but he looks like a wee babe!

Okay, they ALL look young...but especially Sal...and Q.

CHALLENGE ONE: KEEP THE CHANGE

Shot at White Castle - the four guys take turns being goofy WC workers. The guys have to do what the other three tell them, and "if you don't get a tip, you lose".

Some slightly weird editing during the challenge introduction. First Sal talks....then talks again, but with his hat on...and then again, with the hat, but obviously cut. Not used to that.

OMG! I'm dying during Joe's "Approved! BA -BOOM!" actions. LOL!!! And with the use of "bever-ahdge". Interesting to me that Joe stared at the camera during the very first episode and challenge - my experience has been that they try not to draw any sort of attention to it. Joe got a tip!

I loved it when Sal started giggling halfway through his turn. So adorable! Ooopsies...no tip for Sal.

Hmmm...what does it mean to be “hung like a slider”? LOL Nice to see that the customer was friendly and receptive to Murr. Whoo...shocked because at first it looked like Murr wouldn’t get a tip...but he did end up with a buck from the customer.

Wow...yeah...Q looks young too. LOL That stare was epic - I’m not sure how Q didn’t laugh all the way through it (looks like he ALMOST broke, but he saved it). LOL @ Joe’s “HOLD! HOOOOOLD!” in the back. OMG! Q’s “olde English” bit was hilarious! And he got a tip!

I like how after they were all done with their turns, they kinda gave a quick summary of what had transpired,

LOSER - SAL

CHALLENGE TWO: SIGN HERE

Shot on the streets of NY. The guys have to get signatures for their “causes” which the other guys made up. Whoever gets the fewest signatures loses.

LOL @ Sal’s micropenis. And aha - the first appearance of Sal’s germaphobia when he wanted nothing to do with the man blowing his nose. LOL!! Sal got three signatures.

Wow...people didn’t give Murr the time of day during his turn. LOL @ Sal making fun of Murr’s approach. I feel like Murr’s “causes” were easier than Sal’s...he should have been able to get more signatures. Maybe it was the creepy approach.

So funny when the guys were making fun of Joe’s voice getting more and more high pitched during his turn. Mmm...Q was looking good during Joe’s turn.

Awwwww... Q: “I’m a man...I have emotions!” And he just gave up in the middle of his turn....and gets a forfeit as a result.

LOSERS - MURR AND Q

CHALLENGE THREE: TOO MUCH INFORMATION

The guys man a tourist information booth. Each has to do or say whatever the other guys tell him. “If you refuse, you lose!”

The couple that Q spoke to were adorable. The woman definitely took it in stride when Q was asking the man if he wanted to see a titty. LOL!

Sal’s nervous giggle during his turn was so funny. He sounded a little congested - perhaps a bit under the weather?

Murr did a great job kissing everyone in sight. LOL

HA HA! The lady that just gave Joe her granola bar looked so annoyed. And THERE’S the hilarious Joe physical comedy with the dance. But he couldn’t get the word “circumcision” in there...who knows?

LOSER - JOE

CHALLENGE FOUR: WORST CASHIERS EVER

The guys are pretending to be cashiers at Costco and have to do and say whatever the other guys tell them, “If you refuse, you lose.”

During this and the third challenge introductions, they were keen to point out that they had earpieces in. Seems so strange now - we all know that’s the concept. But I guess when the show started out, they didn’t expect folks to know that.

Also interesting that it was a four-way tie for the episode loss before this challenge. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen that happen before, but it does lend itself to more suspense, I suppose.

So funny when they pushed Murr in the shopping cart into the other carts. I can’t tell who it was, but one of the guys was giggling and it sounded like a chimpanzee.

LOL!!!!!! @ Sal’s reaction to hearing that the cake was for a memorial service during Murr’s turn. “Who caked the bucket?” LOL!!!! Murr gets a thumbs up!

I just love that nervous giggle of Sal’s when he tells the guy he looks like Justin Bieber. And a VERY firm “Nope” and head shake when he was told to mention the tampons. FAIL for Sal.

And THERE’S the “Hey moustache!” from Q that’s in the opening credit sequence. The interaction between Q and the moustached man was TENSE...I think that Q could take him! LOL Q got a thumbs up.

Interesting that Joe told his first customer that he was married - don’t know the exact timeline, but I’m pretty sure that he wasn’t really married yet. YAY - NOSING! I just love the nosing challenges - and Joe is SO good at them....it’s kinda funny to watch the choreography that he does to get in the place to do it. :) Thumbs up for Joe.

LOSER - SAL

It’s funny to hear Sal try to give rationale for why he wouldn’t bring up the tampons during his turn.

EPISODE LOSER - SAL

Punishment time - kinda fun to see Q in the driver seat of the car that they used to get Sal to his punishment...I guess that they were pretty hands-on during these early episodes.

Aha - Sal’s germaphobia rears it’s ugly head again. Sucks when your best friends know all of your weaknesses and exploit them, “Pay it forward” “I’m a collector”?!?! LOL! I’m pretty impressed that Sal was able to avoid heaving until after he got rid of the poop. It looks like Q poured half a bottle of sanitizer on Sal’s hands afterwards.

Number of belly laughs: 9

My personal rating - 6 (out of 10)

Well, that’s the first one. I had a fun time and am looking forward to more. :) Please comment if you’d like (but remember to be nice).

#impractical jokers #season 1 #episode 1 #commentary #opinions #s1e1 #review

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khalithewanderer · 7 years

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The Wanderer

Clunk. The sound of the staff stopping at the wooden porch just outside the door is enough to silence the entire bar. Heads turn to the door, eyes narrowing in suspicion. It is not unlikely for visitors to appear this late at such a well-known tavern. However, the hollow sound that echoes through the brightly lit room is enough to catch anyone’s attention. Slowly, with a creaking sound that reverberates throughout the old floorboards and into the very souls of all guests, the brass knob on the door turns, and the wooden door is pushed open. Instantly, murmurs rise, splitting through the chilling air that had been caused by the sudden appearance of the unfamiliar sounds. With a steady intake of breath, the Wanderer steps inside.

Now fully immersed in the light of the room, the whole bar is able to see the entire detail of which the Wanderer contains. A long cloak is draped over their body, its hood pulled over their face. With a braid and a bead hanging from the front, it’s as if their face were the only thing they were trying to keep a secret; the cloak itself is quite revealing, open and dangling down the Wanderer’s front, where it stops just below their knees. On each side, a small golden orb hangs by a small golden braid. But the cloak is split at the arms, it seems, where the hem recedes up near the elbows, and dips down again in the back. As the Wanderer moves forward, the cloak trails behind them, another orb and another braid bobbing along in it’s wake. The cloak is mesmerizing, tiny golden stars and moons decorating its navy blue fabric, which seems to be as dark as the night sky, swirling with tones of purples and blues that belong to galaxies rather than fabric. A symbol is sewn into the back, portraying a crescent moon that is placed around a star, unifying the two separate beings into one. The cloak, however, is not the only enchanting possession that the Wanderer carries. Two swords, both katanas, are placed securely on their left hip, both of which are quite contrasting. The bottom one, black with silver bearings strongly placed across the sheath, as if to hold the leather together, is slightly longer, and appears strangely warmer that it’s partner. The top katana, covered in a sheath of white that is decorated expertly and exquisitely with tiny patterns of gold, gives off an aura of cold, dark times, as though it were merciless. And of course, there’s the staff - the source of the tension now resonating through the tavern. Pure white and smoothly crafted, it is simply beautiful. There are no decorations, or protectors, or moons, or stars. The ends are plain, just long shafts of white that come to an abrupt stop about a half a meter from the center. And it is the center that is drawing much of the attention. It looks as though four pieces of the smooth wood have been pulled away from the shaft, and twisted so that they coil together perfectly. Placed in between each coil are three gems, of which colour the spectators are having a hard time deciding. They appear red, blue, green, purple, amber, onyx… Despite what the Wanderer is carrying, they themselves are not as spectacular as all are expecting. They move further into the room, headed towards the bar, plain black shoes scuffling along as the steady clunk, clunk, clunk of the staff accompanies them. The Wanderer’s canvas pants that are wrapped on with strings and ropes and yarns seem to have been torn off below the knees. A thin waistline with strange markings about the hips shows a lack of food. The bandages that they wear around their breast are dusty and dirty, stained with mud, food, and what could possibly even be blood. A small woven pouch hangs off of the hip opposite the swords, sagging in odd places, showing a lack of money, which further explains the Wanderer’s small, frail appearance. Four bronze bands are worn on the Wanderer’s right forearm, which moves back and forth in motion with the staff. The hand which firmly grasps the white wood is a dark, patchy brown, which is fairly uncommon in a place such as this one. The Wanderer takes a seat at the bar, passing the staff into their left hand and leaning it against the wooden counter as they flip open and dig through their pouch. Thin, dirty fingers pull out a small golden coin and place it on the table. “How much will this get me?” Their voice is quiet and unreadable, though a slight accent is carried with it. The bartender picks up the coin with meaty hands and examines it carefully. Tucking it into his pocket, he says gruffly, “Bread and soup. I’ll be back.” By now, the heads of the guests throughout the bar are craning to see the Wanderer more, swivelling back and forth between friends and neighbours, trying to make conclusions about the stranger amongst them. The bartender returns with a freshly baked stack of bread and a bowl filled to the brim with steaming liquid, and places it in front of the Wanderer. Without sudden warning, the hood is flung off, and the crowd gasps. The Wanderer clasps their hands in front of them, letting out a hoot and a howl and bellowing with extreme glee, “WOWEE, THANK GODS, I’M STARVING!!” Immediately tucking into the soup, scooping it up with the slices of bread and chomping down messily, the Wanderer begins to eat. The whole bar stares in shock, surprised by what is underneath the hood. There’s a moment of silence until someone mutters: “It’s a girl.” Stopping abruptly, the Wanderer raises their head, soup dribbling down their chin, and a piece of bread in each hand. Slowly, eerily, they turn around in their seat to face the room, revealing that, yes, in fact, they appear to be a girl. Their face and hair are the same as their hands. So dark that they appear to be covered in soil. Their hair is pulled back as far it can go, tied tightly into a bun behind their head, leaving only a few pieces to hang in their face, which is young and seems kind, though it scares nearly everyone in the room. Softly, they wipe their mouth and place their pieces of bread behind them, and then they from the seat. “Who said that?” they say gently and quietly. No one in the room moves. They asks again. “Please, I would like to know who just said that.” Slowly, a hand raises in front of her. Quivering slightly, a short, skinny man with tufts of hair sticking out from underneath a straw hat says, “I-I did M-Miss.” With a whipping motion, the Wanderer grabs their staff from against the bar and rushes forward to stand face to face with this man. They bend down to meet him, their height being much larger than his, and gets so close to him that their noses are nearly touching. Their face is pulled together in concentration, deep brown eyes filling with so much magic and intensity that the man nearly shakes out of his clothes. They continues to stare on as the entire bar seems to hold its breath…. “BWAHAHAHAHA!!” they erupt, straightening up with their hands on their hips. The remainder of the people around them slowly start to laugh uncomfortably along, more out of fear than entertainment. “I’m no girl! I’m just a human! And one of the strongest and best ones out there at that! Whether I’m a boy or girl makes no difference to me” They spin around and retake their seat, continuing to munch away at their meal. The laughter dies away and the silence resumes, apart from the jumbled talking that the Wanderer is now attempting. “Wow, dish is really good shtuff! I haven’ had shtuff dish good shince Mama wuz in town! Wow!” they continue on, food miraculously staying in their mouth as they so. The bartender leans over the bar at them and narrows his eyes, as they, oblivious to the glare on his face, shoves another piece of sopping bread into their mouth. “What are you doing here kid…?” the bartender growls, though they waits until they’ve finished their soup to answer, tipping to bowl back as they swallow the last couple of drops. “Well,” they say boisterously, “that’s not really a whole bunch of your business, is it Mr. Grumpyface?” The bartender is taken back by their comment, and they laughs loudly again. “Look mister, I’m a Wanderer. I don’t have a whole lot of purpose. I’m just here to feel the world.” The bartender leans back, grunting in reluctant agreement. He still examines them carefully, as though someone like them could never be trusted. “Your skin is dark. That’s not something you ever see around these parts. Where’s your home Wanderer?” The Wanderer is rummaging around in their pouch when he asks this, and freezes, turning slowly back towards him with a wide, innocent look on their face. “I don’t think you understand sir. I have no home. I don’t even know where I started. All I know is that I just keep going. I want to experience everything; the same stuff, the different stuff, the good stuff and the bad stuff, the new stuff and especially the old stuff. That’s what I do. “I don’t have a home because the world is my home. I live where I wish, I do as I wish, and I am as I wish. That’s all there is to know about me.” They raise off of the seat and lean over the bar, peering closely into the face of the barkeep. “Now let me ask you a question, sir…” The next words that come out of their mouth are filled with magic and mystery, enchanting every single person in the room with whimsical dream-like thoughts and spreading wonder into the hearts of everyone near. They were light, with music and magic and fun, but also heavy and deep, dragging thoughts and minds into the dark. These words seemed so simple yet so powerful, and the world seemed to carry so much sense and nonsense ravelled into one. “Why do you think they call me a Wanderer?”

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- Jamie Homeniuk

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