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regenderate-fic · 3 months

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Let Me Spin and Excite You

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Fifteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Fifteenth Doctor, Rose Tyler Rating: General Word Count: 1,932 Other Tags: Reunions, Immortal Rose, Bad Wolf as Disability

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Summary: After years of looking for the Doctor, Rose meets a strange-but-familiar man at the club.

NOTES: i happened to finish this on esther's birthday so it's for him now. everyone say happy birthday @nounpolycule

anyway i have a ton of long wips that are going super slowly because of how grad school owns my entire soul now so this is my attempt to remind myself that i can write things that are short sometimes.

title from may i have this dance by francis and the lights. which has some of my favorite lyrics of any song and i'm forever mad at spotify for not telling me the version of it i first discovered is a cover (by meadowlark)

Rose leaned against the bar, drink in hand.

The glass was full. Half an hour, and she hadn't even taken a sip. She'd meant to try and relax a bit, let loose, but it just wasn't happening. Her head hurt, her bones ached, and she felt the ever-present exhaustion hovering over her, threatening to take her out at the knees.

Not to mention—ten years.

She'd been back in this universe for ten years. And she still hadn’t found the Doctor.

She'd tried, of course. She'd looked for unusual happenings, bumps in the timeline, anything that might indicate the presence of a haphazardly landed time ship and its ridiculous occupant. She'd chased a million leads, ironed out as many of time’s odd little wrinkles as she could manage, followed timelines across millennia—running into the Doctor should've been inevitable, after all that. And yet she still hadn’t seen them.

And now here she was, slumped against the wall, trying to convince herself that this was still the sort of thing she enjoyed.

She sighed. Maybe it was time to go. She tipped what was left of her drink into her mouth and turned to leave.

But just as she started for the door, a flurry of motion caught her eye.

She disregarded it at first. It was coming from the dance floor, for goodness sake. Surely there was enough movement there to turn anyone’s head. But—no, this was an unexpected movement. Something out of time.

Rose turned to look.

Immediately, she was transfixed.

The densely-packed crowd of dancers all but faded away around the dancer who'd caught her eye.

Beautiful was the only word for him. He practically gleamed in the club lights—the sheen of sweat on his skin somehow made him more entrancing. He moved with a fluid ease, even as the moves themselves were unlike anything anyone else was doing. And there was something about him… Rose couldn't tear her eyes away. He just looked so joyful.

Tears startled her at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She missed that sort of joy—that carefree movement, lost in a sea of people.

To hell with it. One dance wouldn't kill her. Rose took a step towards the dance floor.

Never mind. Maybe it would kill her, figuratively speaking. The bright lights and loud noises were doing nothing for her headache. Why had she come here again? She'd enjoyed nightclubs, once, but since then every cell in her body had surely changed, fallen away only to be wholly replaced. She could hardly expect to be the same person she was.

Still. It was nice to indulge the fantasy.

The dancing man had his hands above his head, skirt fanning out as he twirled. As Rose watched, he came to a stop, and then—

Was he looking at her?

Rose fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She probably looked out of place, in long pants and a full-on leather jacket, with barely any makeup. She hadn't minded, but now she'd been caught out, staring unabashedly at this man, and her usual armor wasn't quite right for the scenario.

The man stepped off the dance floor. He walked like he was still dancing, with graceful, deliberate steps. Rose forced her eyes to stay trained on the dance floor as he walked past her, presumably to the bar.

She'd been standing for too long. If she wasn't going to leave the club, she needed to find a place to sit. She looked around. Most of the tables were completely full—but then she noticed a group of people getting up, and Rose hurried over to take their table before anyone else could claim it. She kept an idle eye on the dance floor. She wasn’t up for it now—but a hundred years ago, she would've been there, carefree and having the time of her life.

There was movement in her periphery. She looked towards it only to see the man from earlier, now lowering himself into the chair next to her. He was holding two glasses.

“This your drink?” he asked, offering one to her.

Rose eyed him. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He settled into the chair. “D’you come here a lot, then?”

Rose burst out laughing. “You're really opening with the oldest line in the book?”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He flashed a smile. “I'm not from around here. Don't know the scene.”

Rose hesitated. “It's not my usual haunt, no.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Where are you from, then?”

He waved a hand. “Here and there.”

“How specific.” Rose felt herself start to smile. “And, I have to ask. Why are you here?”

“What?”

Rose nodded at the dance floor. “You've got a whole club to talk to. What are you doing here?”

He pointed at her. “You were looking at me.”

“Can't imagine I'm the only one,” Rose said, and then she blushed. She hadn't meant to be flirting—but, well, why shouldn't she? It would be ludicrous to pretend she wasn't attracted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Got a big old skeleton in your closet, have you?”

“I've barely got a closet,” Rose said, truthfully. She kept a small flat, but it wasn't really home to her. No need for closet space, not when she hadn't bought new clothes in four years. “No room for skeletons.”

“That's a shame.” The man grinned. “There's always under the bed, I suppose.”

The space under Rose’s bed was full of random bits of alien tech she hadn't gotten around to investigating. “Not my bed,” she said. “No room, what with all the doodads I've got.”

“That's a technical term, is it?” He was smiling.

Rose smiled back. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I'm great with doodads.”

“How about thingamajigs?”

“Absolutely. One hundred percent. I'm there.”

He and Rose grinned at each other, and suddenly Rose was sitting in a chippy just off the Powell Estate, her feet knocking against the Doctor’s as they laughed.

She blinked.

That feeling—the fizzy joy of an easy back-and-forth—it had been at least ten years since she’d felt that way. It was nearly alien to her now.

But… it was nice. And there was no harm in it, was there? If this frankly gorgeous man wanted to buy her a drink and have a bit of flirty banter—well, she wasn't exactly going to say no.

The man gestured towards the dance floor with a flourish. “Would you like to dance?”

Rose weighed her options. There was a reason she’d held back, before. But… this was different. Unwise as dancing may be, this man was very quickly beginning to seem worth the sacrifice.

“Yeah, all right,” she said. She smiled. “Show me your moves.”

The man’s face lit up. He held out a hand to Rose, and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. Before, when she was watching him, she’d felt like he reflected light outward, shining on the whole club, and now she shared in his glow, moving without care, lost in the light and sound, anchored entirely by this strange man’s hands at her waist.

It was the most she’d been touched in years. She felt a bit intoxicated—or maybe that was the alcohol—a bit light-headed—or maybe she’d just been upright too long—a bit exhilarated—and there was no way to explain that away.

The dance felt like it lasted forever, but both common sense and time sense told Rose it could've only been a few minutes before she started to feel out of breath.

“You all right?” He had to yell in her ear to be heard.

“Yeah, fine!” Rose hesitated. “D’you want to get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” His hand fit wonderfully around hers, and they stepped out onto the street together. The cool evening air was a welcome respite from the warm fervor of the club. Rose laughed to feel it on her face.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

The man gestured. “My place is just around the corner, if that's all right with you.”

Rose glanced at him. He was still grinning, still gorgeous, his face illuminated by the bright neon of the club’s sign. This night had been strange in the best way—she hardly objected to continuing it. “Lead the way, then.”

His grin grew, as if that was even possible, as if he had infinite capacity for joy. Together, they walked to the street corner—turned—

Rose felt it before she saw it. A rushing familiarity, a glorious sense of home, a giant weight lifted from her bones. She blinked. There it was: a wooden blue police box, innocently positioned in the center of a streetlight’s beam.

The TARDIS.

Her brain was short-circuiting. She'd stopped walking. She was staring. The TARDIS was here. The TARDIS was here, which meant the Doctor was here. The Doctor was—

She looked back at the man she was walking with. He was still grinning, his gaze fixed entirely, expectantly, on Rose.

Rose gasped. Her body felt like it was on fire. She looked from him to the TARDIS—back to him—her lips parted—she breathed out—and on her breath there was a name.

“Doctor?”

The look in his eyes was so achingly tender she wanted to cry. When he said her name, it sounded the same as it always had—low, soft, with an echo of reverence. “Rose Tyler.”

She fell into him. Immediately, instinctively, his arms wrapped around her waist, and she closed her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

She felt the vibrations in his chest when he laughed.

“Thought it would be more fun if you figured it out for yourself. And I was right, if you were wondering.”

He pulled back. His eyes met hers, and she stared, trying her hardest to take in the collection of features that made up this Doctor’s face.

“Oh, I missed you,” he breathed.

The words sank into Rose, settled into her bones.

“Not even going to ask how you got here,” he added. “Or how long it's been.”

“Dimension cannon,” Rose said. “And—hundred years?”

“Oh! Because—”

“Bad wolf, yeah.” Rose grimaced. “Turns out looking into all of time has some side effects.”

“Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry. I should've known.”

Rose shook her head. “Water under the bridge. Don’t apologize for that.” She raised her eyebrows. “Apologize for being so bloody hard to find. Been looking for years, I have, and best I can manage is a chance encounter?”

“Ah, the TARDIS knew what she was doing, landing here.”

“Typical. Blaming the TARDIS.” Rose scoffed. “Still haven’t forgotten about twelve months.”

“That was one time!”

“Scotland? Queen Victoria? Where were we trying to go then?”

“Oi, I made it to Sheffield eventually—”

“Not with me you didn’t!”

Their eyes met, and suddenly they were both laughing, falling into each other, and the Doctor’s arm curled around Rose’s waist as he asked, “What do you say, then? Fancy a trip?”

Rose let her head fall against his side. “Fancy a good night’s sleep first.”

“Hey, I've got beds.”

Rose smiled. “I've missed that time machine of yours.”

“Just between you and me? I think she's missed you too.” The Doctor dropped his arm from Rose’s waist in favor of taking her hand, and as he entwined his fingers with hers, they stepped together in the direction of the TARDIS.

#doctor who #fanfiction #my fic #fifteenrose #fifteen x rose #fifteenth doctor #rose tyler #short #doctorrose #doctor x rose

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follow-up-news · 8 months

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When Reed Cammack hears the first meadowlark of spring, he knows his family has made it through another cold, snowy winter on the western South Dakota prairie. Nothing’s better, he says, than getting up at sunrise as the birds light up the area with song. “It’s part of the flora and fauna of our Great Plains and it’s beautiful to hear,” says Cammack, 42, a sixth-generation rancher who raises cattle on 10,000 acres (4,047 hectares) of mostly unaltered native grasslands. But the number of returning birds has dropped steeply, despite seemingly ideal habitat. “There are quite a few I don’t see any more and I don’t know for sure why,” says Cammack’s 92-year-old grandfather, Floyd. whose family has allowed conservation groups to install a high-tech tracking tower and to conduct bird surveys. North America’s grassland birds are deeply in trouble 50 years after adoption of the Endangered Species Act, with numbers plunging as habitat loss, land degradation and climate change threaten what remains of a once-vast ecosystem. Over half the grassland bird population has been lost since 1970 — more than any other type of bird. Some species have declined 75% or more, and a quarter are in extreme peril. And the 38% — 293,000 square miles (760,000 square kilometers) — of historic North American grasslands that remain are threatened by intensive farming and urbanization, and as trees once held at bay by periodic fires spread rapidly, consuming vital rangeland and grassland bird habitat. So biologists, conservation groups, government agencies and, increasingly, farmers and ranchers are teaming up to stem or reverse losses. Scientists are sharing survey and monitoring data and using sophisticated computer modeling to determine the biggest threats. They’re intensifying efforts to tag birds and installing radio telemetry towers to track their whereabouts. And they’re working with farmers and ranchers to implement best practices that ensure survival of their livelihoods and native birds — both dependent on a healthy ecosystem. “Birds are the canary in the coal mine,” says Amanda Rodewald, senior director of the Center for Avian Population Studies at Cornell University’s ornithology lab. “They’re an early warning of environmental changes that also can affect us.”

#prairie #grasslands #birds #endangered species

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strange-nights-rp · 8 months

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Meet the Clans - TimberClan

🌲Territory

Forest, towering redwood and sequoia trees. The ground is covered in lush green ferns. The terrain is rather rocky, with many ravines and gorges. Series of small creeks wind through the territory, fed by the nearby mountain range in GlacierClan.

🌲 Camp

Treetop camp – A camp among a cluster of redwood trees with two levels. Each den has a lower portion, which is housed in the hollowed out trunks of the trees, and an upper portion, which is located in the lower branches of the tree. The upper portion is used during Newleaf, Greenleaf, and Leaf-fall and good weather, while the lower portions are used during Leafbare and in bad weather.

🌲 Landmarks

Twoleg path - a well maintained hiking trail. Twolegs often hike it during the warmer months, but rarely stray from the path.

Twoleg Place - a campsite with seven cabins, one of which is inhabited by a park ranger year round. People flock to it during newleaf and greenleaf. Has a small garden with some useful herbs.

Redwood Bridge - a large fallen redwood that creates a bridge across the Summit River to the gathering island. TimberClan and occasionally GlacierClan uses it to attend gatherings.

Hidden Grotto - a patch of wet woodland and cave where strange plants grow.

🌲 Weather

Wet, flipping between cool and warm in Newleaf, warm and wet in Greenleaf, cool in Leaf-fall, and cold and sometimes snowy in Leafbare.

🌲 Governmment

After a long and insufferable monarchy, the new leader, daughter of the old monarch, decreed that any cat that is a warrior may nominate themselves to be the deputy of the clan. The clan has a quarter moon to dispute any nomination, after which the clan will vote with a Rank Voting ballot to determine the next depute.

🌲 Fauna

Prey: voles, mice, rats, squirrels, beavers, gophers, porcupine, marmots, chipmunks, flounder, burbot, trout, salmon, minnows, lamprey, sturgeons, sparrows, robins, towhee, chickadee, starlings, jays, meadowlark, woodpeckers, thrush

Predators: wolverines, bears, wolves, cougars, rattlesnakes, coyotes

Other Animals: skunks, deer, bats

🌲 Holidays

Color Festival- Once a full moon cycle is completed after New Leaf, TimberClan gathers all things colorful (mainly flowers) where apprentices are tasked to sort out and organize all the material. They are hoisted into the trees where they are stored throughout the first moon cycle of new leaf. Cats are encouraged to decorate themselves as colorfully or as creatively as they can, and on the first high sun after a new moon, the material in the trees is released to a marvelous and beautiful cascade of colors in celebration of the new life that comes every year to TimberClan.

Festival of Wood- On the first day after the second full moon of Leaf-fall, cats come together to help the Carpenter cats raise new dens up into the treetops. If no additional dens are needed, new ones are made to replace any unstable ones. This day is usually accompanied by a small feast once the new dens are properly installed.

Night of Stars- On the first new new moon of Leafbare when the stars shine their brightest, the clan gathers at the top of the trees near Treetop camp, and tell stories of their loved ones who have joined The Ancestors. Cats are encouraged to bring snacks as they often end up falling asleep throughout the storytelling.

🌲 Specialized Role

Carpenters - The highly skilled TimberClan carpenters are excellent at making tools and trinkets out of wood. These highly skilled carpenters have helped TimberClan easily adapt to their tree nests in winter and help defend their warriors with wooden armor.

#warrior cats rp #wc rp #new wcrp #warrior cat roleplay #warrior cats #warrior cats roleplay #wcrp #snwrp #strange nights

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auditionsuggestions · 3 months

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hi i’m auditioning for anya in anastasia. do you have any suggestions for a good monologue and song? neither can be from the actual musical but i want something similar to the character anya please🙏

Sure thing! I've suggested monologues for Anya here.

For songs, take a look at When The Music Played from Doctor Zhivago, God Help The Outcasts from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, A Change in Me from Beauty and the Beast, Disneyland from Smile, or maybe Meadowlark from The Baker's Wife.

Break a leg!

#musical theatre #broadway #audition songs #audition suggestions #musicals #Anastasia Musical

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plantdonutwrites · 8 months

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i would like to request for leomin relationship ask: 8, 18, 27, 30, and 40

08. what’s one way their personalities compliment one another?

leo and min-ji are both gentle souls with a lot of empathy in their hearts and love for their designated families. and both of them have a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt or give them second chances… even if they may not deserve them.

18. what song fits them perfectly?

i struggle to think of a song that fits them perfectly, but a few songs i associate with them are: "the witching hour" by the ready set, "still into you" (cover) by meadowlark, "beautiful creatures" (piano cover) by illenium and max, and "feeling alone in a room full of people" by xeuphoria.

27. what random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

the color blue is definitely a mutual color association for them (min-ji being more navy blue, and leo being more royal blue). i also feel like min-ji would have a “favorite mug” at the lair that she drinks tea out of whenever she sticks around for a while… and leo makes a POINT of keeping the mug safe and clean for whenever she comes over. min-ji also associates candles with leo, especially when they have more subtle and ‘cozy’ scents to them, like vanilla or sandalwood. other things: classical music, fantasy books, chocolate. (note to self: make a post expanding on this subject so that this answered ask doesn’t get too long…)

30. what is their favorite place to kiss the other? (cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

min-ji loves forehead kisses–giving and receiving them. leo enjoys kissing her hand and knuckles (and, as you've pointed out to me, he kissed her hand before he even kissed her… weh i cry™)

40. who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

i think both of them are equal in this, but it also depends on the context. for one example: if min-ji is having a particularly anxious day, it can take some time to pull her head out of it and help her relax, no matter who is trying to make her smile or “loosen up”. but since leo seems to manage his stress a bit better than min-ji can manage hers, it makes it easier for her to make him smile (imo).

⊱ ───────────────── {.⋅ 🍂 ⋅.} ───────────────── ⊰

(❀˙˘˙)♡(˙˘˙❀) hey hey hey, thank you so much for waiting 7 months for me to answer this~ for the asks! these are fun to answer. and thank you for the beautiful arts, as always.

original post here.

#tmnt oc #tmnt ocs #tmnt 2003 oc #oc: min~ji seong #ch: leonardo #pairing: leomin #f: tmnt 2k3 #this is truly shameful... taking so long... forgive me i have no excuse #pdasks

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yaelokre · 2 months

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Hi there! I came across one of your songs and I've been listening to your songs on repeat all day! The fairytale feeling of your songs and your art is so beautiful, I absolutely love the design of all of the kids and their masks, and your music inspires so much wonder. I'm so excited to see where the story of Meadowlark and all of the characters go! Thank you for sharing your art and your story!

We are very thankful Plum! 🐇🩵💚💛🧡 I do find joy in folks mentioning phrases such as "fairytale" or "storybook" for those are what i hold special in weaving Meadowlark. The essence and overall memory of what those words entail 🌳🍂 we hope your mornings stay bright! :~)

#🐿️

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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Merchant's Son (Quentyn I) [Chapter 6]

Adventure stank.

You have no idea.

+.+.+

"If the captain smells anything like his ship, he may mistake your vomit for perfume," Gerris replied.

That's an amusing new take on foul things smelling sweet.

+.+.+

Quentyn was about to suggest that they try another ship when the master finally made his appearance, with two vile-looking crewmen at his side. Gerris greeted him with a smile. Though he did not speak the Volantene tongue as well as Quentyn, their ruse required that he speak for them. Back in the Planky Town Quentyn had played the wineseller, but the mummery had chafed at him, so when the Dornishmen changed ships at Lys they had changed roles as well. Aboard the Meadowlark, Cletus Yronwood became the merchant, Quentyn the servant; in Volantis, with Cletus slain, Gerris had assumed the master's role.

[...]

Quentyn cut a poor figure by comparison—short-legged and stocky, thickly built, with hair the brown of new-turned earth. His forehead was too high, his jaw too square, his nose too broad. A good honest face, a girl had called it once, but you should smile more.

Everyone meet Quentyn Martell.

He has low self-esteem.

+.+.+

Smiles had never come easily for Quentyn Martell, any more than they did for his lord father.

Imagine someone as cautious as Doran Mortell, with tons of self-doubt mixed in.

I understand they don't know Daenerys's nature, and I understand Doran hasn't spent much time with his son. Regardless of those things, Quentyn is so ill-suited and unprepared for this task, I can't believe it's the plan.

+.+.+

"How swift is your Adventure?" Gerris said, in a halting approximation of High Valyrian.

This is the perfect ship for Arya.

+.+.+

Tell me, my Westerosi friend, what is there in Meereen that you should want to go there?"

The most beautiful woman in the world, thought Quentyn. My bride-to-be, if the gods are good. Sometimes at night he lay awake imagining her face and form, and wondering why such a woman would ever want to marry him, of all the princes in the world. I am Dorne, he told himself. She will want Dorne.

Poor little thing.

+.+.+

Yet twenty days had passed, and here they remained, still shipless. The captains of the Melantine, the Triarch's Daughter, and the Mermaid's Kiss had all refused them. A mate on the Bold Voyager had laughed in their faces. The master of the Dolphin berated them for wasting his time, and the owner of the Seventh Son accused them of being pirates. All on the first day.

Only the captain of the Fawn had given them reasons for his refusal. "It is true that I am sailing east," he told them, over watered wine. "South around Valyria and thence into the sunrise. We will take on water and provisions at New Ghis, then bend all oars toward Qarth and the Jade Gates. Every voyage has perils, long ones more than most. Why should I seek out more danger by turning into Slaver's Bay? The Fawn is my livelihood. I will not risk her to take three mad Dornishmen into the middle of a war."

How do you send your son into a war zone with five companions, some gold, and virtually no other support or resources?

+.+.+

Quentyn had begun to think that they might have done better to buy their own ship in the Planky Town. That would have drawn unwanted attention, however. The Spider had informers everywhere, even in the halls of Sunspear.

What should I do with this information?

Love how this omnipresent Spider and his wealthy Essosi partner have no idea Daenerys has taken up residence in Meereen. You're only as powerful as the author needs you to be.

+.+.+

The cart lurched along behind her, the driver hooting at sailors and slaves alike to clear the way. It was easy enough to tell one from the other. The slaves were all tattooed: a mask of blue feathers, a lightning bolt that ran from jaw to brow, a coin upon the cheek, a leopard's spots, a skull, a jug.

Close your eyes and try to think of which character would be most deserving of this type of tattoo/branding.

You may just get your wish.

+.+.+

Maester Kedry said there were five slaves for every free man in Volantis though he had not lived long enough to verify his estimate. He had perished on the morning the corsairs swarmed aboard the Meadowlark.

Quentyn lost two other friends that same day—Willam Wells with his freckles and his crooked teeth, fearless with a lance, and Cletus Yronwood, handsome despite his lazy eye, always randy, always laughing. Cletus had been Quentyn's dearest friend for half his life, a brother in all but blood. "Give your bride a kiss for me," Cletus had whispered to him, just before he died.

Fantastic, they've already lost the heir to a major house. Five companions? Make that two.

Go home, Quentyn.

+.+.+

"One of you should say some words for your dead, before we give them to the sea," the captain said. Gerris had obliged, lying with every other word, since he dare not tell the truth of who they'd been or why they'd come.

It was not supposed to end like that for them. "This will be a tale to tell our grandchildren," Cletus had declared the day they set out from his father's castle. Will made a face at that, and said, "A tale to tell tavern wenches, you mean, in hopes they'll lift their skirts." Cletus had slapped him on the back. "For grandchildren, you need children. For children, you need to lift some skirts." Later, in the Planky Town, the Dornishmen had toasted Quentyn's future bride, made ribald japes about his wedding night to come, and talked about the things they'd see, the deeds they'd do, the glory they would win. All they won was a sailcloth sack filled with ballast stones.

If I existed in this story, and someone started talking like this around me, I would cover my ears and run.

+.+.+

As much as he mourned Will and Cletus, it was the maester's loss that Quentyn felt most keenly. Kedry had been fluent in the tongues of all of the Free Cities, and even the mongrel Ghiscari that men spoke along the shores of Slaver's Bay. "Maester Kedry will accompany you," his father said the night they parted. "Heed his counsel. He has devoted half his life to the study of the Nine Free Cities." Quentyn wondered if things might not have gone a deal easier if only he were here to guide them.

Go home, Quentyn.

+.+.+

"New Ghis is an island, and a much smaller port than this. We would be closer, yes, but we could find ourselves stranded. And New Ghis has allied with the Yunkai'i." That news had not come as a surprise to Quentyn. New Ghis and Yunkai were both Ghiscari cities. "If Volantis should ally with them as well—"

Guess what happens!

+.+.+

"Do we have enough gold to buy a ship?"

"And who will sail her? You? Me?" Dornishmen had never been seafarers, not since Nymeria burned her ten thousand ships. "The seas around Valyria are perilous, and thick with corsairs."

Look who's back, and doing familiar things.

+.+.+

"The demon road is dangerous, and too slow," Quentyn said. "Tywin Lannister will send his own men after the queen once word of her reaches King's Landing." His father had been certain of that. "His will come with knives. If they reach her first—"

"Let's hope her dragons will sniff them out and eat them," said Gerris.

+.+.+

"Well, if we cannot find a ship, and you will not let us ride, we had as well book passage back to Dorne."

Crawl back to Sunspear defeated, with my tail between my legs? His father's disappointment would be more than Quentyn could bear, and the scorn of the Sand Snakes would be withering. Doran Martell had put the fate of Dorne into his hands, he could not fail him, not whilst life remained.

Doran Martell putting the fate of Dorne into your hands is him failing you.

+.+.+

Truth be told, girls made Quentyn anxious, especially the pretty ones.

When first he'd come to Yronwood, he had been smitten with Ynys, the eldest of Lord Yronwood's daughters. Though he never said a word about his feelings, he nursed his dreams for years … until the day she was dispatched to wed Ser Ryon Allyrion, the heir to Godsgrace. The last time he had seen her, she'd had one boy at her breast and another clinging to her skirts.

Lmao.

+.+.+

More recently, the youngest of Lord Yronwood's daughters had taken to following him about the castle. Gwyneth was but twelve, a small, scrawny girl whose dark eyes and brown hair set her apart in that house of blue-eyed blondes. She was clever, though, as quick with words as with her hands, and fond of telling Quentyn that he had to wait for her to flower, so she could marry him.

There's even an Arya!

+.+.+

That was before Prince Doran had summoned him to the Water Gardens. And now the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting in Meereen, and he meant to do his duty and claim her for his bride. She will not refuse me. She will honor the agreement. Daenerys Targaryen would need Dorne to win the Seven Kingdoms, and that meant that she would need him. It does not mean that she will love me, though. She may not even like me.

Maybe there is a Sansa chapter in this book.

+.+.+

The street curved where the river met the sea, and there along the bend a number of animal sellers were clustered together, offering jeweled lizards, giant banded snakes, and agile little monkeys with striped tails and clever pink hands. "Perhaps your silver queen would like a monkey," said Gerris.

If that's a monkey demon joke, I'm going to die of laughter.

+.+.+

Quentyn had no idea what Daenerys Targaryen might like. He had promised his father that he would bring her back to Dorne, but more and more he wondered if he was equal to the task.

I never asked for this, he thought.

Go home, Quentyn.

+.+.+

Across the wide blue expanse of the Rhoyne, he could see the Black Wall that had been raised by the Valyrians when Volantis was no more than an outpost of their empire: a great oval of fused stone two hundred feet high and so thick that six four-horse chariots could race around its top abreast, as they did each year to celebrate the founding of the city. Outlanders, foreigners, and freedmen were not allowed inside the Black Wall save at the invitation of those who dwelt within, scions of the Old Blood who could trace their ancestry back to Valyria itself.

That has to be some sort of historical real-world reference.

+.+.+

"The triarchs are neither kings nor princes. Volantis is a freehold, like Valyria of old. All freeborn landholders share the rule. Even women are allowed to vote, provided they own land. The three triarchs are chosen from amongst those noble families who can prove unbroken descent from old Valyria, to serve until the first day of the new year. And you would know all this if you had troubled to read the book that Maester Kedry gave you."

Lots of Valyria nonsense happening here, but there might also be a few Great Council hints.

+.+.+

In the center of the square, under the cracked and headless statue of a dead triarch, a crowd had begun to gather about some dwarfs putting on a show. The little men were done up in wooden armor, miniature knights preparing for a joust. Quentyn saw one mount a dog, as the other hopped onto a pig … only to slide right off again, to a smattering of laughter.

Hey Penny.

+.+.+

I am eight-and-ten, six years younger than you, Quentyn thought. I am no old man. Instead he said, "I have no need for comic dwarfs. Unless they have a ship."

Is anyone else having Daenerys ACOK flashbacks? A whole chapter of worldbuilding, and finding a ship.

+.+.+

Windblown, Quentyn knew. The serjeants were looking for fresh meat to fill their ranks before they sailed for Slaver's Bay. And every man who signs with them is another sword for Yunkai, another blade meant to drink the blood of my bride-to-be.

Do you ever get the feeling Daenerys will be stabbed?

+.+.+

"Westerosi?" the man answered, in the Common Tongue.

"Dornishmen. My master is a wineseller."

"Master? Fuck that. Are you a slave? Come with us and be your own master. Do you want to die abed? We'll teach you sword and spear. You'll ride to battle with the Tattered Prince and come home richer than a lord. Boys, girls, gold, whatever you want, if you're man enough to take it. We're the Windblown, and we fuck the goddess slaughter up her arse."

A serjeant from a mercenary company that's fighting against Daenerys for the city of Yunkai just said that.

Both sides thinking they represent freedom. . . the jokes write themselves.

+.+.+

"Do you have a better way?" Quentyn asked him.

"I do. It's just now come to me. It has its risks, and it is not what you would call honorable, I grant you … but it will get you to your queen quicker than the demon road."

"Tell me," said Quentyn Martell.

Spoiler alert, they're joining the mercenary company, and planning on defecting.

I wonder if another Dornish heir will ever side with a mercenary company against Daenerys.

Final thoughts:

I feel kind of stupid for never questioning how easy it was for Daenerys to get to Dragonstone.

To get to Dragonstone, her fleet has to sail close to Yunkai, Astapor, Valyria, Volantis, Lys, Sunspear, the Stepstones, Tyrosh, and Estermont.

Surely there will be a few problems? Where will they replenish?

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the merchant's son #quentyn i

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geopsych · 2 years

Photo

I have more pictures of beauty from the last two days but I’m pausing to show you this unassuming individual which was one of the high points of the weekend: a bobolink! Best picture I could manage. I know they’re common elsewhere but I never see them at all where I live and only rarely do I see them even out where I was taking pictures today. Seen along the stretch of road where I also see meadowlarks and kestrels, in fact a meadowlark landed within feet of this spot shortly after this one flew off. I’m thrilled to know they’re nesting out there this summer!

#bird #bobolink #dolichonyx oryzivorus #they used to be much more common #may #pennsylvania

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l3tterk · 6 months

Text

REVIEW: Whirlybird - Dove is a Pidgeon

Dove is a Pigeon is the debut album by New York/Atlanta based band, Whirlybird.

The group consists of one Avery Milner who serves as lyricist, vocalist and plays guitar, as well as Matthew Hare on bass and PJ McFarlane who is (primarily) on lead guitar.

On this LP, Milner and the group work with long-time collaborator, Matt Mattson of Pendulum Studios, who takes charge of production, engineering and mixing. Finally, this record was mastered by Greg Hendler of Meadowlark Audioworks.

I first found out about this project back in 2020 as they performed as part of a charity live stream hosted by fellow New York/Atlanta based band, Lowertown (who you may recognise as former Dirty Hit signees). At that point, Whirlybird’s discography was fairly small, being comprised of one EP (Hot Flashes) and a series of covers and singles uploaded between Soundcloud and Bandcamp. The set was good, Milner showcased strong vocals and guitar work as well as perseverance through what I understood to be technical difficulties.

What particularly struck me during the set, however, was the newer works that were premiered - songs that later came to be known as “Borough Trash” and “New Bird Call”. In the weeks and months following this introduction, I delved deeper into the Whirlybird back catalogue, picking out new favourites in “Corner of k and 22nd” and “I’m green (ode to trees)” but all the while still humming the tune to Borough Trash as it soundtracked my own travels to and from the “suburbs”.

It would be another two years before we received a studio version of that song, and during that time, we were treated to a spattering of song ideas on TikTok (in a collection aptly titled “song yard”), a cover of Liz Phair’s “Flower”, two live recordings as part of the “Eat, Dog Eat!” Festival (June 2022) and finally, a short (but very sweet) set of demos titled “Carriage House Sessions”.

After that, we had the rollout to the album that I (soon!) will be reviewing today.

At 8 songs and 31 minutes, this LP is very tight - with little meandering into half-baked ideas, providing a concise showcase of what I believe to be a lot of potential.

We start with “New Bird Call” which, as I mentioned was premiered some time ago. This is a straightforward acoustic opener, both introducing us to, and highlighting Milner’s vocals, which have subtle, old-timey flavour. The tempo ebbs and flows as we move between sections, giving off a distinctly human feel.

What I really enjoyed about the studio version of this older track is that Milner and Mattson opt for a stripped back approach. The instinct in many cases would be to try and build this instrumental up, fleshing out the landscape with extraneous bells and whistles, but there’s a remarkable sense of restraint in the production choices - it’s very honest, and feels as though we can hear all the details of the room in which it was captured. There is even background chatter, which again bolsters the human quality of this song - and speaking of bells and whistles, there’s actually a solitary “bell” sound on this which punctuates the instrumental perfectly. Lyrically, this track sees Milner work in some beautiful poetic lines, with favourites of mine being “Warm wet rain fills my head, tossing, turning inside me” and “the weeping willow decides when tears will fall”.

On “Morning Do”, we pick up the pace a little, introducing shakers and drums. I liked Milner’s doubled vocals - a staple of alternative guitar music. My only gripe is that I felt it to be a little short, Milner does well to lyrically illustrate how time can often be felt to accelerate when around those we love (so perhaps that was the point of this track), though I would’ve wanted to linger in the moment a bit longer.

As I said earlier, “Borough Trash” has been one of my favourites since I first heard it. There's something about this one that feels bright and nostalgic (not in an overbearing way, though) and it never fails to put me in a better mood. The distortion on the guitar gives the track a nice sense of warmth and the panned slides make for some nice ear candy. In terms of the song’s musical progression, I’m a sucker for major-to-major movements on guitar, so when it goes from A to Am on the refrain/chorus I’m a very happy reviewer. I was grateful that they added the extended outro because it is my favourite part of the song and when the single version omitted it, I was slightly disappointed. Overall, this track is just a solid jam, and my favourite lyric must be "If time makes no sense, then spring forward and fall back again”.

“Reciprocity” was the last single dropped before release day. I really love the tempo shifts in this one - it initially took me out of the experience, but as I kept listening, it grew on me. Lyrically, there’s a real sense of proximity both emotionally and physically, with mentions of “sharing an orange”, “watching tv” and of course… being sick, which I think nicely communicates the depth of the connection Milner describes.

“Bridge under water” This one sees, Milner describe dealing with a flood in one’s residence. There’s a nice swing to this, almost as if we, the listener are bobbing in the water alongside Milner’s possessions. I’m loving the line “I brought a show dog to a gun fight” – suggesting that Milner (or the speaker of the song) was ill equipped to deal with the flood. I’m also a big wordplay fan, so the section that ends in “Water under the bridge” is highly enjoyable.

In the case of track 6, titled “Ghosts in the Garden” I feel as though this is sort of the spiritual successor to “Too Early” off Whirlybird’s first EP, the gurgling low-end on this number has an addictive quality to it, and I love the flashes of distorted guitar – hinting at a stormy, emotionally turbulent mood that contrasts nicely with the steadiness of Milner’s voice.

“Sidewalk” I heard this track as part of the “Eat, Dog Eat!” compilation tape that dropped in 2022. The guitars have an interesting ambling pattern, reminiscent of walking. I like the addition of tambourine and piano - its subtle, but effective, with the piano being so delicate that it but fleetingly catches your attention.

“Hunting song” is a wonderfully penned closer, Milner completes the throughline of bird references that suffuse the record with flying colours. I loved the line “I'll send the cat to go catch your tongue” and the way the instrumental explodes after “Now there’s a moment” is simply wonderful.

Whirlybird have come through with a very respectable record and I hope to hear more in the future!

Listen here:

Apple Music

Spotify

Youtube

#guitar music #new music #whirlybird #atlanta #new york #review #long reads #music #acoustic #indie folk #alternative rock #shoutout #bandcamp #youtube #spotify #apple music #Bandcamp

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cozypeachtea · 1 year

Note

Ooo no i would actually be very interested to hear ur thoughts on their species and such! I think it would be so interesting:0

ahhhh thank you! i have so many moomin thoughts to share but they unfortunately bounce around in my brain and i don’t organize them well. therefore! here is a list of my thoughts in regards to moomins and surrounding species:

- do moomins have opposable thumbs? my friend asked me this two years ago and i still think about it. i would assume so since they hold things the same way we do but that leads me to wonder:

- how long have moomins walked on just their legs? sure, they crawl from time to time, but so do we. it seems most of their surrounding species are in the same boat as them, but their ancestors (the little ones in moominland midwinter) crawl around.

- how many moomins are there? this ask was in response to a post i made asking people’s thoughts on the possibility of snorks/moomins/hemulens being different evolutions of the same original ancestor. inter-species relationships seem to be very common in the moomin world and it just makes me wonder how many moomins are out there? we really only know of the moomin family (including aunt jane, moominmamma’s grandmother etc.).

- how long do moomins live? if the ancestor is still out and about and the sample size of moomins we know are so young, how long do they have? i think a common consensus of moomin fans is that moomins do live a long time, which would make sense to me, considering it wouldn’t make sense via evolution for a species to change to die earlier. (@meadowlarker mentioned one time that she thought moomins just grow and grow until they turn into mountains and i’ve always thought about it because it’s so beautiful!)

- are snorks meant to migrate? when we meet snorkmaiden and snork they are travelling like snufkin is. if they are distantly related to moomins, who hibernate, then they probably don’t like winters. are they supposed to migrate??? i need to know!!!!

- are moomins meant to travel?? it’s a reoccurring plot point that moominpappa, and occasionally moominmamma need to leave their home for some adventure. for such settling down centric creatures it’s an interesting idea! moomin also has this curiosity in the world that i think would benefit from travel. maybe one year he joins snufkin i don’t know

- how much of a mumrik is snufkin? joxter, being our one example, is lazy and constantly on the move. despite snufkin leaving every winter, spring to fall is a long time to be in one place (even if you’re in love). we know snufkin is half mymble and i wonder if this makes settling down for periods of time bearable.

- do moomins get thicker fur in the winter? this is more of a hypothetical question because they must! and wouldn’t it be so cute!

i think that’s all for now! i think tove would tell me to just stop taking it all so seriously. but please! if anyone has thoughts i want to know them all. i also didn’t take science past second year of high school so if i’m completely misunderstanding basic evolutionary concepts please let me know!

#also if i missed any moomin lore lemme know #thank you for the ask!#moomin #fio speaks

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