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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

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A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 16

<- Part 15 | Part 17 ->

Summary: A flirtatious moment in the hospital garden turns sour.

Warnings: Brief nsfw themes, injury-recovery angst, post-traumatic stress/flashbacks, graphic past injuries, KISSING, hurt/comfort. Love and fluff.

3,700 words

After being gutted left him with a limp, a cane, and an overbearing sense of weakness, Frederick Chilton began copying Hannibal Lecter. His patterned suits, his clean-shaven face. The mimicry wasn’t deliberate exactly, but he looked to a man who radiated calm dignity and strength, and tried to capture some of it for his own.

It didn’t work. Frederick Chilton was still Frederick Chilton.

But shaving the beard did make him look younger. The razor glided over his smooth cheek as he cut through the facial hair that had grown unruly in the hospital. A new man stared back at him. One not traumatized by Gideon’s knife.

Only a few months later, he was shot in the face, and let the stubble grow back to distract from the scar. To obscure the hollowing where maxillary bone was missing. Like a chameleon, Frederick was always changing—hairstyles, wardrobes, colognes—always imitating someone, drawing the eye away from a flaw, never comfortable with himself. Ever improving. Refining. Hiding.

Every day, the burn ward’s physical therapists had him using one exercise machine or another. A pedaling machine lowered over his bed so he could build muscle while lying on his back before he was able to walk. The next step was a tall, rolling frame that he strapped into like a fighter pilot hanging from a parachute harness, which allowed him to take a few weightless steps. His legs shook. His feet did not know how to align themselves on the ground anymore. He hissed curses when you cheered him on just for shuffling one foot forward along the smooth grey linoleum.

One damned foot.

As if he couldn’t walk before. As if one shaking, machine-assisted step was an accomplishment. He was an overgrown baby in a Jumperoo.

While he could not walk on his own yet, he could get into and out of a wheelchair without screaming bloody murder. This allowed him a new level of freedom, if not autonomy. He still required two nurses to lower him into the chair. Still needed help getting to the bathroom. But he could at least use the bathroom instead of a bedpan and catheter.

Healing came at a cost.

Until now, he had caught flashes of his reflection in polished surfaces. Warped teeth in a metal IV pole. The fuzzy silhouette of a mask in the black of his computer screen.

He stood with his hands on the bathroom sink, staring. The nurse at his left elbow tugged him, told him it was time to sit back down in the chair. He needed support to stand, a babysitter to ensure he didn’t fall, and she was tired of waiting.

The thing staring back at him did not move.

When he took the compression mask off for the one hour per day he was allowed to remove it for cleaning, he somehow expected to find his own face beneath it. Skin. What he saw was a stranger. Gnarled scars made an uneven backdrop for one dead blue eye and a skeletal grimace. His own bones were buried somewhere underneath like bedrock, but the flesh was rearranged and distorted.

If he had met this man a year ago, Dr. Chilton would have felt inward pride at his ability not to sicken at the sight. He would have shaken his hand with a smug, professional detachment that said, “I am accustomed to horrific things in my line of work—abnormal psychiatry. This does not shock me as it would a layperson.”

He was a creature to be pitied.

Then a familiar reflection appeared out of the blind spot of his left side. Your image wrapped its hand behind the broken stranger, and he felt it land on his lower back. Warm. Comforting as your face, which was knit with worry. You told the nurse you could handle it from here, and she retreated out to his room.

When she was gone, Frederick began to laugh, dark and cruel, eyes never leaving the matching set staring cruelly back.

“What is it?” you asked, tightening your grip on his arm as he began to tremble.

“Do you think I look younger without a beard?”

The laugh cracked in his throat. His shoulders heaved as he finally looked away. It was too embarrassing to watch a grown man cry.

***

The heat of July was not easy on a body that could no longer sweat and was covered head to toe in a compression suit, but Frederick Chilton was thrilled to be outside. As the automatic sliding doors opened, he breathed in deeply through the nose and exhaled the spinning summer fragrances with a blissful sigh.

You resisted the urge to tease him. Of the pair, you were the more outdoorsy by far, and the last time you dragged him camping, he’d managed to complain the entire two days. He was not, generally, one to appreciate sunshine and birdsong. But this was different.

It was his first time away from the lifeless hospital air—the same smells day after day—in four months.

Now a breeze hit his face—a breeze! He had forgotten what that felt like—and brought with it the smell of cut grass and flowers, and exhaust fumes from the nearby roadways. The scent of gasoline urged his stomach to wring itself empty, but it was faint and easy enough to shake off as sparrows chirped and flitted about the hospital’s “meditation garden.”

Gently curving paths snaked through the landscaping of lush greenery and small trees. Few flowers were planted, out of respect for patients with allergies, but a fountain at the center babbled soothingly. The walkways were wide and smoothly paved, so the grey wheels of the hospital-issue wheelchair rolled over them easily, performing their function despite being over-worked and worn down, not unlike the staff. The black rubber handle grips had a dull patina from hundreds of hands, yours being the latest to circle around them as you pushed.

It was nice to have a private courtyard to enjoy the fresh air without the eyes of the general public watching.

Frederick was able to wear clothes from home now, but they had to be loose-fitting and short-sleeved to not interfere with his treatment. In a navy polo shirt and athletic shorts, he felt horrifically under-dressed, and did not want to be seen that way. The fashion crime was almost as bad as the face he could not bear looking at.

An elderly patient and what appeared to be her adult daughter sat on one of the benches between two daylily patches, blooming garishly cheerful red and gold. The daughter looked up, and Chilton looked away.

“You are certain you checked the bedroom closet? Left-hand side, second drawer to the bottom?” he asked again, agitation rising.

He was looking for the more fashionable Chino shorts he rarely wore, preferring to overheat in long pants than expose his pale, door-knob knees to imagined ridicule. You told him the housekeeper must have misplaced them.

He clenched his fist as tightly as the pink, shiny-scarred claw could manage and went on a gruff, impotent rant about the help growing careless without him to keep them in check. (If anything, the “help” were desperate to keep you in check without him there to manage your habit of leaving everything out—your clothes on a chair, the cereal box on the counter.)

“I know, I know. Awful,” you nodded along to the music of his words, if not the lyrics. You wished he would change the subject, but he pressed on with his investigation of the Case of the Missing Shorts.

“Mrs. Pérez brought a load of laundry down from the bedroom last Wednesday,” he noted. Frederick had taken to watching the security feeds remotely from his laptop. “Has she been using the cheap dry cleaner on Cherry Street instead of the good one so she can skim the difference? I have explicitly instructed the staff not to use them—they have lost or ruined several articles over the years. Inform Mrs. Pérez that I will not stand for lazy—what?”

Your tense smile began emanating a tenser whine.

It was rather suspicious.

Frederick watched you for a moment, puzzled, and then resumed, “The new security guard shares my pant size. Perhaps—”

“I DID IT. I brought them to Good Will.”

“You what?!”

Clicking the wheelchair brake, you doubled over the back of it, laughing at your childish ruse and how seriously Frederick had taken it. God, the man could never let anything go! “Over a year ago! You never wore them!”

“Come here.” His clipped tone did not invite argument.

You walked around to the front of his chair, the repentant pout on your face strongly undermined by rounded cheeks that were barely holding back a chuckle.

He growled with affectionate anger—the kind where he wanted to grab behind your knees and pull you into his lap, telling you with a low purr exactly how much trouble you were in. Except at the moment, your weight crashing onto his skinny, bony lap would have bruised a femur and torn five stitches. And if he was not confident enough for a kiss, he was in no condition to promise punishments of that nature.

So he gave your rump a sharp smack and tried to make his mouth smirk in that playfully disdainful way that said, “I love you, but I am going to kill you. You know that, right?” Sometimes wanting to kill someone can be such a personal, intimate love language.

“Doctor Chilton!” you gasped, feigning shock. “Such a naughty patient. I have told you time and again, this is simply unprofessional.”

The old woman and daughter had moved on, leaving you alone in the garden.

He let out a soft huff of amusement, catching on to the new game you were playing. Back when he was the administrator of the BSHCI, you would often saunter into his office playing the oversexed patient to his sleazy therapist. Now the roles were reversed.

“You protest,” he said in a low, lecherous tone, “and yet you continue to lavish extra attention on me. Do not think I have not noticed.”

“I don’t know what you could mean,” you deflected coyly. “Please keep your hands to yourself, sir.”

He grabbed your hand and spun you to face him, skeletal fingers interlocking with yours. Even through the compression glove, you could feel how skinny they had become, knobby knuckles protruding.

“Doctor,” he corrected.

You swallowed. “Doctor.”

“Why deny it? You guard all my treatments for yourself like a prize when other nurses could do it. You crawl into my bed to warm me with your body heat—hardly standard practice. I think you like the attention,” he said, giving your ass another lurid slap.

“D-Doctor! I’m not supposed to—we’re not supposed to…”

“If you worked at my hospital, I would fire you for such fraternization. Yet you call me unprofessional.” His hand still rested on your ass.

“You would fire me, doctor? Why fire me when there is so much I could offer?”

“And what is it you would offer me?” he asked, voice thick with meaning. His fingers kneaded the fat of your ass gently. It would have been harder, more possessive, if his hands were at full strength.

Not long ago, getting an erection had been painful, though he’d had several corrective surgeries since then, and the grafting had time to heal. Perhaps the sunlight was sparking him back to life. He was in a flirtatious mood—more excited than you’d seen him in a long time, and you were not about to tell him to slow down.

“Anything you want, doctor.” You lowered yourself in front of his chair, kneeling between his legs and looking up at him expectantly.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

No one else was in the garden, and statues and shrubberies hid it from the road, but it was not entirely private. Anyone could walk in or see from a window of the tall buildings. You were just pretending. You weren’t going to slip his cock out right there and suck it for all the world to see. And yet… it had been so long. The thought of your moist lips closing over his lonely, aching hardness, your head bobbing in his lap…

“You… are fascinated with me, nurse,” he observed, licking his non-lips. His composure was holding, but barely. “You have seen many patients, but never one as badly burned, have you?”

“No.”

“Does it excite you?”

You took a moment before answering. Part of him resented you for still finding him attractive. At his lowest, he even blamed you for wanting these brutal injuries to happen. A bird sang a few metallic notes on a nearby branch before fluttering down to drink from the fountain. You stroked the top of his narrow thighs, careful not to push too far by going near his cock, but he showed no sign of hesitation today. The heat in his eyes as he watched you was not accusing, but hungry.

“Yes,” you panted. “You are striking. I’ve never met anyone so strong, so resilient.”

“Do you dream of kissing me? Your most striking patient?”

“Yes.”

The sun beat down hotter, but it was only your own internal temperature rising. The birds seemed to pause in their songs, and the leaves on the trees ceased to flutter.

You had waited so long—was he really asking?

His gloved hand reached down between his legs, and nailless pink fingertips stroked the side of your face thoughtfully a few times. Then he motioned you to get up off your knees, offering his hand as a symbolic gesture only. You put some of your weight on the padded rubber armrest as you stood.

“It will not be pleasant. For either party, I imagine,” he said, breaking character.

“It will be for me.” Your voice was soft.

“I do not know what to do like this. Mash my teeth against your face?”

You laughed a little. It was probably more nuanced than that, but that sounded basically accurate. “We’ll find out together.”

He looked off into the distance, toward the humming road weaving through the city. A warm breeze brought the smell of sea off the harbor: salty, humid, and stagnant with rotted fish and garbage. “The memory of your lips against mine is already fading,” he said. “That memory is all I have left of them. Whatever this will be, it will not feel the same.”

“I know.” You rested a hand on his shoulder. The dark blue polo was informal for his old life, but the woven cotton texture was rich compared to the thin hospital gowns you were used to him wearing. The last kiss you shared with Frederick was preserved behind a glass display case in your memory palace. A new kiss might break the hermetic seal. You could forget what it felt like to kiss him before. But it seemed worth the price to build new memories—a future just as full of love as the past.

He looked up at you like a broken ceramic being pieced back together with gold. His eyes shone with love, but his shoulders were slumped low.

“You may say I’m a slutty nurse for wanting to kiss my patient, but you’re to blame!” you said, playing the game again. “How could I resist your charm? I bet you seduce every nurse—I’m only your latest conquest!”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth.

“No, my dear,” he purred, grabbing your arm and pulling you down to him until your face was inches from his. “Only you. I only want you.”

“Can I kiss you?”

He breathed in. He nodded.

You leaned the final inch down, and pressed your lips to his teeth.

The Red Dragon’s teeth sunk through flesh and tore deep. Coppery blood flooded his mouth, the taste so metallic and strong it drowned out almost everything else out—the pain, the unnatural tearing, little pops of veins, ligaments, and muscles stretching to their limits before giving up, his own screams. The truth of his face with all its illusions of grandeur was revealed before him: it was just meat. Nothing but raw, shredded meat.

“NO!” he screamed, and pushed you hard.

It was different than the peevish denials other times you’d tried to kiss. He pushed you away with so much force you staggered backward, and his wheelchair nearly tipped over. It reared on two wheels like a panicked horse and would have fallen except the worn brake gave way, and he shot backward several feet until the vacant bench stopped the chair’s momentum.

“No, no! Get away! No!” he begged no one, shaking and thrashing so violently he risked ripping his healing scars.

His back, legs, and arms were glued to the wheelchair, and he couldn’t escape. No—could have if he were desperate enough, strong enough. But he was terrified of ripping his skin off. The thought made him break out in a cold sweat and made it difficult to think straight. Dear god, he was afraid something happened to his back. Of being disfigured again.

He was afraid to die, but he dreaded even more the thought of surviving yet again to find another piece taken from him.

Not another. Not again.

If he cooperated, he had to be spared this time. He would cooperate. Do everything The Red Dragon said, and fate would be merciful. He had to go home. He had to go home. To see you again. It was not fair that he survived two attempts on his life only to die here. It was not fair! He was going to get married to the love of his life. Things were finally going right. The Dragon’s shadow fell over him. The acrid stench of his breath as he leaned down toward Frederick’s mouth—

“Frederick!”

You ran after him and tried to restrain him before he climbed out of the wheelchair and fell to the pavement, but it only made him struggle harder. Fuck. You weren’t sure if touching him again was a good idea, but you didn’t know what else to do. He was going to hurt himself.

“Shh, I’m here.”

Crouching next to him, you tried to keep him seated, murmuring soft, reassuring words. Eventually, he stopped thrashing to escape, his jerking limbs resigning themselves to passive trembling. His eyes were open, but they didn’t see you. They didn’t see anything but a dark room with a flickering projector.

You laid your head on his lap. “I’m right here. It’s OK. You’re safe, Frederick. You’re safe. Shh, shh...”

It took several minutes, but his breathing began to slow, and he began to calm down. His fingers found your hair and stroked it, mindlessly running over the contour of your scalp. Familiarity. Recognizing you, he grasped at your shirt to draw you closer, clutching you like a teddy bear to his chest. It was an awkward angle, but you shifted so your butt was partially supported by the bench he’d crashed into, and used the chair’s armrest to hold yourself in the bent position. Frankly, even if every muscle in your body cramped up, you weren’t going to leave him as long as he needed to hold onto you.

Finally, he whimpered your name and asked what happened.

“I… kissed you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

He sniffed and wiped his face, which he discovered was soaked with tears, and looked off into the trees. You sat back onto the bench, straightening your crooked spine, but keeping a firm hold on his hand, staying close as he returned to reality. He would be embarrassed. Add this to the growing list of Ways Frederick Chilton is Broken and Useless. But for now, the humiliation was dulled by the fact that he was not in that room again, with the projector flickering. You stayed that way for a while, sitting in the dappled shade of the garden and the warm breeze, the fountain burbling a constant, relaxing, tuneless song.

“The last man to bring his lips to mine bit them off.”

“I’m so sorry, Frederick. I shouldn’t have been so stupid...”

He squeezed your hand. Straightened up in his chair. “I heard the FBI has the video. Have you watched it?”

You shook your head, then quickly added, “No,” aloud, knowing his vision was poor and still focused on the tree branches swaying and morphing in the wind. Jack Crawford had offered, but you didn’t want to see it. You couldn’t bear to.

It had been hard enough hearing him describe how Francis Dolarhyde glued him naked to his grandmother’s wheelchair and made him watch macabre home movies of the families he had slaughtered. His voice was too calm, too distant from the memory as he dictated graphic details for the Journal of Psychology, desperate to tell his story, grab his fame before he died.

You should have known how your mouth coming at his would make him feel. You were so caught up in your romantic imaginings, you forgot how kiss-like that moment of horror must have been, just before the pain.

The nightmare his life had been for months already, and would continue to be. The scar tissue that wouldn’t fully mature for two years. Two years wearing a compression suit to help them heal. Years of follow-up procedures so that he can continue to move. To breathe. To hear. Longer until he could get a new face. His entire life altered forever.

It started with a kiss.

“We don’t have to kiss. I should never have pushed you to,” you apologized, wincing preemptively.

You expected him to be angry. To sarcastically tell you, “Now you decide we don’t have to? Now that it is too late? What fine timing.”

“I am not weak,” he bristled instead, but his agitation only spanned the length of a breath. He squeezed your hand softly, and pulled you halfway into his chair to wrap his arms around your waist and back. “I did not think that would happen either,” he spoke comfortingly into your hair. “Attempting it for the first time in a wheelchair was a mistake. I should have been more aware of that, but I grow tired of not being able to show my affection. You are not the only one impatient for my recovery, darling. I want to try again.”

“Now?” You pulled back, widening your eyes at him.

“No,” he said plainly. “I think not.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @isvvc-pvscvl / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq / @madpanda75 / @alwaysachorusgirl / @bananas-pajamas / @leanor-min / @mad-girl-without-a-box / @katierpblogg / @worldofvixen / @sassyada / @barbingchilton

#Frederick Chilton x reader #my writing

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ikimaru · 3 years

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Hey sunny! Im sure u get asked this alot but ive been meaning to buy a display for Christmas and ive always used wacom ones but they’re so expensive, ive been looking at xppen and huion bc its cheaper but theres so many versions that idk the difference between them and which one would work best, so i was hoping to get your opinion :)

heyy, p much the same as my response from the other day but uhh updating with new info (also it’s not like I tried every single model, just the ones they sent me lool for all the rest I gotta fill in the gaps)

differences in pen displays:

sizes, the bigger they are the more expensive, pretty self explanatory haha I’d stick around 13′’-16′’ because it’s a comfortable size while not being so big that you will have to relocate them or find room specifically for them

lamination: gloss and matte, gloss ones are cheaper and might feel weird to draw on, many buy an additional textured foil to put on them

and then other stuff like parallax and color accuracy etc which will improve in more expensive models even if just marginally in some cases

as for personal experience, the huion kamvas pro 16 works great for me /however/ the stylus is very fragile (this goes for all huion styluses with the rubbery pen grip according to reviews I’ve seen, drop it once even from a small height and you might have to buy a new one), I can’t say if rubber grip styluses of other brands are just as fragile, but that’s the kind of stylus you usually get with all (most?) pen displays anyway, by default I think they’re more fragile than the tablet without screen ones which are fully plastic (I dropped my old wacom ones so many times lmao)

as for xp-pen I’m not too sold on it bc the artist pro 24 which is one of their higher end models doesn’t feel great pen-pressure wise, at least to me.. (it feels very similar to the huion kamvas 13 ngl) it also had a little parallax which I didn’t notice as much on that huion, so I’d assume their cheaper models would be around the same /at best/, but like.. a lot of people use them so they’re probably ok, I just personally found the pen pressure smoother on a cheap wacom from 10 yrs ago hAHA the kamvas pro 16 feels very smooth to draw on tho, it’s also laminated matte by default, but yeah fragile stylus

anyway depends from what you expect from the tablet, maybe not everyone notices this difference in how the pen pressure feels as much :? but for me if it doesn’t feel as smooth as I expect I won’t enjoy drawing on it;;

#Sunnyasks

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littleeyesofpallas · 3 years

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Was chatting with a coworker the other day and two things crossed my mind...

that I've been at this weeb shit so long that I forget what I just sort of take for granted and what might not be commonly known little factoids, and

that VIZ's attempt at a monthly Shonen Jump magazine has been gone so long most people probably never saw them. (nevermind the old RAIJIN Graphic Novels that tried the same thing)

So, here's some fun little things you might not have known about manga if you've only ever read English publications and/or digital scans...

For one, there's the matter of print formatting... In general, Japan actually uses their own standards for print that tend to differ from those in the US; The JIS(Japanese Industrial Standards) series A and B. Magazines like the typical anthology format manga are printed in JIS B5, which is comparable to the US Letter standard, or the ISO A4.

This was the same format that RAIJIN Comics printed in as well, and although I don't have a copy of the old English Shonen Jump for reference, if memory serves they printed in the same format as well in an attempt to really sell that "authentic" manga feel. Sadly, I don't know that the effort or attention to detail was much appreciated. Neither published a volume comparable to a Japanese weekly or even monthly serial magazine, though --not by a long shot. But this might not be the most practical for comparrison, since there actually just isn't much of an English language equivalent format. (unless you count actual magazines that happen to include comic illustrations or miniscule comic strip segments)

Despite the mammoth size of a serial magazine, Japanese tankoban are actually smaller than the North American equivalent. But notably the Japanese small book format isn't just a matter of contending with nearest print standards... What I believe is the JIS B40(although I could be wrong) tends to be the standard print size of small books in general, not just manga, and it's a print size that is only marginally smaller than VIZ's standard size manga, but with the very particular benefit of being deliberately portable. The small difference in size is the difference between a Japanese manga fitting in my coat pocket where as the English equivalent can't.

(I realize I photographed a copy of Shonen ACE, and not Weekly JUMP, but I measured a copy of Weekly JUMP for the thickness and not the copy of ACE; the copy of JUMP was around 506pg, while the copy of ACE was 570pg. Those are both older though, and the most recent digital copy i have of Weekly JUMP actually had around 520pg)

And I don't think it's always addressed just what a difference there is, culturally, in how Japan approaches the print medium. It's kind of an old cliche by this point, and I don't know how accurate it's remained in the past decade or so, but the quintessential image passed around between comic nerds has always been the Japanese bullet train; A place packed with commuters all passing their transit time with isolated preoccupation with music and/or reading, with manga being the king of this time killing arena. And its not just about sheer popularity driven by interest, American comic vendors have long envied the sheer accessibility of manga in Japan.

Here in the U.S. we used to have a thriving newsstand retail scene for comic books, and a kind of similar ease of grab and go comic purchase, rather than the explicitly niche interest driven "direct market" model that has been slowly but surly strangling the comic market ever since. But in Japan serialized manga has remained in relatively quick, impulse friendly, arm's reach of readers on the go. And what lubricates that business model more than anything is price.

I still remember a time when VIZ dominated the English manga market by offering at $7.95(and am I crazy or am I remembering a time when it got down to $6.99?) but now'days it's settled on a low end of $9.99. You know how much the recent vol.29 of My Hero Academia goes for? ¥484. That's less than $4.50.

You know how much that big ass magazine with 500+ pages and 21 different series goes for? Do you think it's more or less than the little pocket-size tankoban? Did you guess something close to ¥290? That's less than $2.75. But how does something bigger in both page size and page count managed to sell for less???

There are a few secrets to that, but one is that the things are packed to the gills with ads. But that's the boring answer. The other feature contributing to keeping an accessible cost on weekly/monthly manga is something we don't think about much in the U.S.; it's the paper and print quality.

The nice little books are printed in what you might expect as far as starch white paper and clean black inks, but those big honkin' phone book(do people still know what phonebooks look like??) size magazines are printed on cheap recycled pulpy newpaper with typically rough print jobs. This is most noticeable in the quality of solid blacks, and when scanning the texture of "white" space.

(I tried to take individual photos of different series chapters to show off the fact that the paper is differently colored... but my phone's camera seems to be smart enough to auto balance that kind of thing when there's no other context to anchor it to. (It doesn't help that it's night and my lights have a harsh yellowing glow to them.) but on th left you can still kind of see the different paper colors; this particular issue alternated every 3 chapters between pink-ish, green/gray, a kind of off-white/gray, and sepia, but I've also seen blue-ish, oranges, and a different shade of yellow different from the sepia-ish one.)

Back in ye olden days when it came to fan scanlations, more slapdash teams and projects would often stumble over levels in photoshop (too much black and the pulpy paper texture shows up as grainy shadows, but too far white and the edges of lineart get crunchy and ugly) but those who had more robust readership and a regular streamlined flow of work, we'd actually go in and touch up the solid blacks and whites by hand. We'd also redraw art to erase overlaid text so the type setters could lay the new English in over top.

(Weekly Jump: Left, Bleach tankoban: Right)

They do however keep a few coveted color pages in better quality paper and ink. In contrast, the standard quality tankoban actually don't include color pages at all, and just print what had been color pages in grayscale. There are also all kind of irregularities between publishers and special editions and such, but on the most basic level this difference in quality both keeps serial prices down, while also incentivizing tankoban purchase.

In the U.S. we might still have the draw of an ad-free reading experience in our TPB, but the print quality between a biweekly issue and a TPB are basically the same. Incidentally, even though manga are generally drafted at a much larger scale than even the serial magazine proportions anyway, the scaled down size of the tankoban also serves to sharpen the image. When put side by side the nice clean tankoban print looks noticeably better than the serial.

Now'days the English scanlation scene seems to be conducted almost entirely through ripped digital releases (at least as far as I can tell with popular, regular weekly titles) which is great for quality, frankly, but it does kind of lack the charm and personal touch of a band of amateurs finding round about solutions to a convoluted bootlegging pipeline. But obviously I'm a little biased.

[edit]: Oops i posted this without really ending it in any sensible ro conclusive way... I feel like ive lost sight of the point since i first drafted this but I guess its mostly just me pining after if we could just get super cheap, disposable quality, bulk manga in that classic Japanese magazine model to work here in the states. I already tend to sell manga in big runs, even at $9.99+, and frequently I'll have customers put volumes back, or clearly want the next volume but just can't afford it and wait to come back. If I could sell these customers more volumes, and more importantly more titles, at the same price, I would love to. I would love to see these things fly off the shelves. I would love to see people keeping up with multiple series. I would love to see someone look at a 44vol long series and actually feel like that's a number of volumes they can afford.

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cloudphillips · 4 years

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Interlude: Act IV

"Greetings, my humbled peasants! "

Their little tender moment was interrupted when Sooyoung barged into the infirmary with her chin held high and chest puffed proudly. Upon spotting Seungwan and Joohyun, she casually strutted towards them acting as if she owned the damn place. For some reason unbeknownst to everyone, her ego was overly inflated today. The tall Slytherin winked at an injured Gryffindor girl in passing and smirked arrogantly when the said student visibly swooned at her charms. Sooyoung knew the effect she had on people and she was great at using it to her advantage.

Seulgi mainly composed her little entourage and at least had the decency to look sheepish at the Slytherin's grand dramatic entrance. She held a small, nondescript pouch within her grasp and greeted Seungwan and Joohyun with an apology when they stopped by. "I told her not to make a scene." The Hufflepuff Prefect gestured towards the tall Slytherin and shook her head in embarrassment. She always had the rotten luck getting caught in her friend's shenanigans.

"At least you tried." Joohyun crossed her arms and casted her fellow Slytherin a rather judgmental look. She was quite annoyed at the sudden interruption. There were still things left unsaid, reassurances needed to be given and words dying to be declared.

"How's my favorite person in the world?" Sooyoung ignored their jabs and haphazardly sat on the bed before engulfing Seungwan into a tight hug. A teasing smirk was plastered on her lips when she noticed the scandalized expression the Slytherin Prefect adopted.

"Fine." The Ravenclaw clenched her fists when Sooyoung accidentally grazed her broken arm and gritted her teeth to keep a pained groan from escaping. Merlin's beard that hurts! Discomfort was written on her face and every cell in her body protested from the sudden contact. "Never better." Her gaze landed on the Slytherin Prefect and her distressed eyes screamed for help.

"That's enough!" Joohyun barely had control to push Sooyoung off the bed but thankfully, she managed to reign her impulses and pulled the tall Slytherin away from the blonde. She swatted away those invading arms and made sure to put a good distance between them by inserting herself in the middle, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at Sooyoung for even daring to touch Seungwan. "What are you doing here?" Her voice sounded accusatory, perfectly making it clear that she was unhappy with their arrival.

"We're here to celebrate Seungwan's victory on the first task!" Sooyoung rolled her eyes her friend's overprotectiveness. Seriously, Joohyun needed to chill. Seungwan was not a fragile glass that easily breaks. She was acting like Sooyoung committed the forbidden crime of touching the Ravenclaw.

"Okay but must you make such a ruckus about it?" The Slytherin Prefect was unimpressed.

"Joohyun." Sooyoung sighed in exasperation. "You're being a buzz kill right now and I don't appreciate it."

"Why?" The Ravenclaw decided to intervene in their little spat to keep things from escalating. "I only got second place."

"That's not what the whole school thinks. Thanks to my campaign efforts, you have become a hero in their eyes." The Slytherin was practically shaking in excitement. It didn't take much to convince people to support Seungwan. The Ravenclaw was already lovable to begin with and she was greatly admired not only for her looks but also for her intelligence and kindness. Sooyoung only capitalized on that fact and used it to her advantage.

"You are now known as Seungwan the dragon slayer." Seulgi beamed proudly at her friend and patted her back to congratulate her for a job well done, something she immediately regretted when the Slytherin directed that deadly gaze towards her, threatening the Hufflepuff with her eyes and warning her to keep her hands to herself. "A-Anyway..." Seulgi gulped nervously and slowly backed away from her demented friend. She was not, under any normal circumstances, planning to get murdered by Joohyun. "We come bearing gifts!"

With that, the Hufflepuff rummaged through the nondescript pouch she was carrying and pulled out a box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers and several other gifts before placing them on the bedside table. "These are from your admirers. They were greatly concerned of your well-being and wished for your speedy recovery." Seulgi pulled out a neat stack of handwritten letters and gingerly placed them on Seungwan's lap.

The Ravenclaw was amazed at the sight of her friend pulling out random things from the small pouch. It greatly defied the laws of Physics. Though, she concluded, maybe the object was just enchanted so that it could store numerous items without changing its size. "Are these for me?" Seungwan gingerly traced the outlines of the letter on her lap. She sounded completely surprised, as if the fact that she had admirers was a complete twist of fate. How could someone love a dork like her?

"Of course! You're the Hogwarts hotshot now bitch!" Sooyoung subtly sent a smug smirk in the Slytherin Prefect's direction. A blatant message for Joohyun to know that the stakes have been raised, that she wasn't the only one vying for Seungwan's affections now.

There was a certain light shimmering in the Ravenclaw's eyes as her lips stretched out into a bright smile which caused Joohyun to frown in displeasure. Something unpleasant brewed in the pit of her stomach and it only grew as Seulgi pulled out more chocolates and flowers from the pouch. Stupid admirers and their stupid gifts! Heck, Joohyun could buy all those flowers and chocolate factories in the world and give them to Seungwan without even batting an eyelash.

Seulgi pulled out a seed from the pouch. It looked particularly insignificant but when it landed on the palm of Seungwan's hand, the seed blossomed into a beautiful and sparkling white rose. The Ravenclaw giggled delightedly and took a long whiff of the flower's scent. Stupid roses. Joohyun huffed in annoyance as she crossed her arms. Who in their right minds would give an injured person some flowers? Seungwan is gonna have a fucking pollen allergy at this point.

Back when the blonde was merely a normal student, they barely spared her a glance but now they proudly declare their undying love for her just because she's the dragon slayer? The audacity! Joohyun was the first. She had long been blinded by Seungwan even before she became the Hogwarts champion and earned everyone's adoration.

"This looks lovely." Seungwan commented happily and Joohyun rolled her eyes because of course she liked the gifts. It was not hard to please an innocent person like her. The Slytherin Prefect just wished that the Ravenclaw would raise her standards a little bit because come on! That looks like some cheap ass flower. Joohyun could certainly do better than that.

"It's unremarkable." Her tone sounded exceptionally harsh and even her friends glanced at her in surprise. The Prefect immediately schooled her expression into a neutral one and tried to hide the bitterness in her voice. "I mean, it's just an ordinary flower to me." She shrugged, acting as if it didn't bother in the slightest, before looking away.

"Bitter." Sooyoung hid her snide comment with a cough. She was amused at her friend's crude reaction. The plan was certainly working. It's amazing how a little jealousy could do wonders in a person's mind and cause them to act irrational.

"And for the final gift..." Seulgi rummaged dug deeper into the bag and revealed the familiar golden egg. The egg that Seungwan fought hard to obtain. The very same egg she risked her life for by battling a dragon and almost drowning into that lake. The Hufflepuff reverently held the egg within her grasp and handed it over to its rightful owner. "The clue to the second task."

Seungwan carefully received the gift and gingerly the outlines of the enchanted egg with her finger. The hardened shell was encrusted with pure gold and neatly polished to the point that her reflection could be seen from the surface while the hinges were inlaid with sapphire gems which shimmered under the sunlight. It called to her, urging her to finally reveal its secrets. "Wait." She blinked, completely escaping whatever trance she was in, and frowned in confusion as she glanced at her friends, or rather, what mostly composed her friends. Joohyun, Seulgi and Sooyoung were present which could only mean...

"Where's Yerim?"

As if on cue, the doors of the Hospital Wing opened to reveal a rather grouchy Yerim. The Gryffindor had a perpetual scowl plastered on her face when she mindlessly headed towards their direction. "Sup." She greeted the blonde with a dry nod before plumping down the bed and releasing a heavy sigh. Without asking for permission, she helped herself to some of the sweets gifted by Seungwan's admirers and just chewed on it half-heartedly. It looked like she was having a rather unpleasant time.

"Rough day?" Sooyoung scooted over to make more room for her.

"Yeah. A bunch of idiots decided to Stupify me just because they think I manipulated the betting pool." The Gryffindor scowled when she tasted a rather nasty flavor from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "Freaking earwax." She spat the offensive treat away and downed the after taste with some sparkling water she conjured out of thin air. Addressing the Ravenclaw, Yerim spoke in the most monotonous voice possible, completely disregarding how her disinterest was blatantly showing. "Congrats on not dying or whatever."

"Uhh... thanks?" Seungwan replied.

"Who are these people?" The way Joohyun's eyes narrowed and her voice dropped to a deep timbre was enough indication that she now shifted in her Prefect mode and was dead set on making those idiots pay. What can she say? Her overprotectiveness for Yerim caused her to have zero tolerance for bullshit. "They broke school rules by using combat magic outside of class. I could reprimand them and--"

"Everything's fine. I can handle it" Yerim interrupted her friend with a dismissive wave of her hand just before Joohyun's harmless plans could fully escalate to outright murder. It was cute really, the way the Slytherin Prefect showed concern for her well-being, but the Gryffindor disliked having her friends fighting her own battles. She was fully capable of defending herself. Deciding to change the subject, she gestured towards the golden egg on Seungwan's grasp. "So, what does that thing do?"

"I don't know." The Ravenclaw shrugged as she stared at the enchanted object in curiosity. What wonders does it contain? What secrets lies within? Maybe it's time to know. "I guess we're about to find out."

With that, she twisted the lock and the egg burst open. A bloodcurdling shriek erupted from the device and its unholy sound permeated throughout the Infirmary. Seungwan accidentally dropped the object, which fell to the floor and rolled just a few distances away, and winced at the sudden barrage of noises. Joohyun yelped as she crouched to the ground and covered her ears to block out the disembodied voices. Sooyoung lost consciousness and promptly passed out on the bed. The injured students adopted pained expressions as they were rendered immobilized by the offensive resonance.

"Make it stop!" Yerim screamed at Seungwan despite the noise as she desperately used a pillow to prevent her eardrums from bursting. When it was obvious that the Ravenclaw still remained paralyzed from the noise, the Gryffindor took matters into her own hands and casted a spell. "Muffliato!"

But it was no use, the terrible screeching still echoed through the room.

Thankfully, Seulgi recovered from her stupor and jumped into action. She ran to grab the egg, recoiling from direct exposure to the inhumane sound, and with all her might, shut the hardened shell and firmly secured the lock in place. There was a tense silence that lingered in the atmosphere, most of the students were sending relieved glances at the Hufflepuff Prefect for stopping the commotion while shooting daggers at the Hogwarts champion for causing this ruckus in the first place.

Seulgi carefully wrapped the enchanted egg with her yellow scarf and gingerly handed it back to Seungwan as if she was handling a cursed object. Maybe it was, considering the amount of racket it caused. "That was..." She paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling with. "Intense."

"Yeah, no shit." Yerim gestured at Sooyoung, who still remained unconscious at the foot of the bed. She nudged the Slytherin awake but to no avail. Their friend was out cold. The Gryffindor rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "And I was looking forward to auctioning the clues for the next task and selling the answers to the highest bidder." She addressed Seungwan tried to make her realize how much of a wasted opportunity this was. "You don't know how obsessed people are with the tournament. They'd literally sell their souls just to even catch a glimpse of that blasted golden egg."

"Girls..." Their little conversation was interrupted when Madame Pomfrey suddenly appeared and adopted the sternest expression ever known to wizardkind. She didn't look pleased at the racket they caused, her eyes particularly accusing Seungwan, and it took all of their guts not to squirm under her piercing gaze. Even Joohyun who was rarely intimidated, studied the floor and found very interesting. "Must I remind you the rules of the Hospital Wing? Causing unnecessary racket is forbidden." Her tone was icy as it was coated with poisonous venom. Was it just Seungwan or did the atmosphere suddenly become suffocating?

The three friends shared hesitant glances. Terror evident in their eyes.

Looks like they're in for a long lecture.

***

"Welcome, Rosé, to the Ministry of Magic."

Jennie beamed excitedly as she gestured towards the enormous place with a grand flourish of her hand. The Beauxbatons champion couldn't help but be awed at the magnificent sight. She'd never been to a place like this before, only seeing its wonders in those newspapers and gossip rags. Being in here now in this marvelous structure, it was enough to render her speechless.

The headquarters of the Ministry of Magic was located deep underground at the heart of London, although magical windows showed whatever weather Magical Maintenance had chosen for the day, from bright sunshine to hurricanes. Its enormous structure was decorated with fireplaces up and down both long walls. The left-hand side with gilded fireplaces were mainly intended for arrivals. Witches and wizards would use it to clock in at the Ministry. Meanwhile, the right-hand side contained gilded fireplaces as well and these were used for departures. The floor was polished dark wood and Rosé gawked at the blue ceiling with platinum symbols moving across it.

"Where are we?" The blonde allowed Jennie to grab her hand and lead her through the throngs of people. Her friend looked at ease, like she completely felt at home within this daunting place. Maybe she was. After all, her mother was the Junior Assistant to the Head Minister. Her steps were measured and confident like how one would expect a person who grew up exploring these halls.

"This is the Atrium. That means we're currently at Level 8." They pushed past the Fountain of Magical Brethren which had group of golden statues, depicting a wizard, a witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf, spouting a steady stream into the surrounding pool of water. At the end of the Atrium was a set of golden gates, next to which was a security stand. Another smaller hall was beyond the gates, where there was a series of lifts which provided access to the other levels, except the tenth.

"You said that you wanted to meet Auror Park?" Jennie gave her friend a sideways glance when they got inside the lift. She was curious as to what Rosé's agenda was. Her friend got really secretive when she tried to bring up the topic. Heck, the short girl even considered slipping some Veritaserum into her friend's morning tea just to get her to spill the beans but decided against it. She reached out to press the Level 2 button and patiently waited until they arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Uh yeah, I'm a big fan of hers." Rosé tried to hide her lie behind a beaming smile but upon noticing the subtle downturn of Jennie's lips and the silent judgement in her eyes, she could tell that her friend wasn't buying it. The lift momentarily stopped on Level 5 and other witches and wizards swarmed inside which forced the girls to huddle close. "I've been really into Auror stuff lately." Rosé absentmindedly traced that crumpled piece of parchment resting in her pocket. That little exam result she stumbled upon just a few days ago. Should she really do this? Coming here and seeking out her enemy's mother seems a little overkill. Maybe it wasn't too late to turn back now and forget all about this petty revenge.

"Really? Never pegged you for an Auror wannabe. Thought you wanted to become a singing sensation in the wizarding world?" Jennie raised a dubious brow, obviously detecting the little white lie, and when Rosé didn't reply, she shrugged, having lost interest in her friend's business, and casually checked her nails for dirt. The Beauxbatons champion clearly had no intentions of spilling her secret. "Whatever you're planning, just make sure it's worth it."

The lift stopped and the vibrant ring of the bell indicated that they finally arrived at Level 2. The rest of the passengers shuffled out and both girls waited for the traffic to pass before they too exited the compartment. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was the largest division at the Ministry of Magic and it was situated in a corridor lined with doors on both sides. One could easily get lost within its vastness but Jennie had no problem navigating through its labyrinthine halls. She dragged Rosé around the corner towards a set of heavy oak doors leading into the Aurors Headquarters. They passed by a large open area divided into small cubicles which was buzzing with talk and laughter.

"Those cubicles are intended as work area for each Auror." The short girl was kind enough to provide an explanation to her ignorant friend. Rosé's amazement at everything was adorable. Her muggleness was clearly showing. Jennie couldn't help but smile.

They stopped by daunting entrance to the Aurors Headquarters and the other Aurors, who were busy working, stopped whatever it is they were doing to observe the two teenage girls who had the audacity seeking audience with the Head Auror. Jennie obnoxiously knocked on the door and Rosé didn't know if her friend noticed but everyone was staring at them, like literally staring. It was certainly unnerving.

"Come in."

Both girls briefly shared a look. This is it. Rosé mentally prepared herself for the worst-case scenario when Jennie opened the doors and they got inside. When she first laid eyes on the office, it took her breath away. It was a spacious and airy working area decorated with vibrant plants and large windows which allowed enough sunlight to bathe the room in a golden glow. Two large wooden shelves filled with books about Defensive magic and Combat arts were firmly fixed by the corner. Pictures of known Dark wizards, maps, and clippings from the Daily Prophet were pinned on a bulletin board hung on the wall. An elegant mahogany desk, with documents haphazardly stacked and an ancient-looking globe placed on the side, was positioned in the middle of the room. A woman was perched on a leather chair. Enchanted envelopes, probably containing posts and letters, levitated on the air. She was obviously preoccupied with filing reports and writing back to correspondents because her quill never stopping scribbling something on a parchment.

"Pleasant morning girls." The woman momentarily paused her business to greet them and Rosé was struck upon meeting an older version of Sooyoung. She was probably in her late 30's. Her raven black hair was neatly tied into a bun and her brown eyes seemed friendly enough. There was a certain kind of warmth in them and deep creases formed beneath, an obvious evidence of unburdened laughter and genuine smiles. She was certainly the type of woman a person could easily confide in just by judging her vibrant and cheerful nature.

"To what do I owe this pleasant visit?" She beamed brightly, showcasing a set of pearly white teeth, as she adjusted the lapels of her black blazer and wow. This was Sooyoung's mother? How completely different she was from her daughter. The Slytherin girl exuded sarcasm and mischief yet her mother was the exact opposite. Rosé shook her head in disbelief yet as her gaze landed on that small yellow and black crest with a badger in the middle, which was displayed proudly on the desk, she realized that maybe it wasn't so surprising. Soojin was a Hufflepuff. That explains all the sunshine and rainbows.

Looks like the apple really fell far from the tree.

"Head Auror Soojin, is this a bad time?" Jennie asked hesitantly upon noticing the mountains of paperwork the older woman was sorting.

"Oh no, not at all. You both came at a perfect time. I was taking a break anyway." With a subtle flourish of her wand, the scattered files and levitating envelopes landed on the desk and neatly arranged themselves in organized piles. Soojin stood from her seat and walked over to properly greet them. She wrapped Jennie into a warm hug before her gaze landed on the Beauxbatons champion. Rosé got a little self-conscious and started fidgeting with her fingers when the Auror studied her curiously. "And who is this lovely lady?" The older woman asked the second both of them pulled away from the embrace.

"Oh, this is Roseanne Park, my best friend, but you can call her Rosé or Chaeyoung." Jennie proudly introduced the tall girl with a beaming smile. Her enthusiasm was so infectious that Rosé couldn't help but grin herself. "Rosé, I'd like you to meet Park Soojin. The greatest Auror in the world. She's the one who taught me combat and defensive magic."

"You flatter me Jennie." The Head Auror laughed before engulfing the blonde in the same warm hug. Her scent smelled like earthy wood and fruity kiwi. Rosé took a liking to her immediately. "I was actually her pseudo-babysitter when she was a child." They eventually pulled away and Soojin casted an exasperated glance at the shorter girl. "You have no idea how much trouble Jennie usually gets herself into. I've lost count of the times I had to save her from attempted kidnapping and spelled curses."

Jennie tried to hide her embarrassment with a cough and Rosé smirked at her apparent attempt of appearing calm and unbothered. The brunette was usually dainty and poised at school. She never thought that her friend had a history causing mischief.

"It's such an honor to finally meet the Beauxbatons champion. Your reputation precedes you, Miss Park." Soojin turned to appraise the said girl. Her all-knowing eyes studying the rest of Rosé's form and she must've been satisfied with what she had seen because she suddenly all smiles and laughter, acting like the blonde was her long-lost daughter. "Single-handedly defeating a mighty dragon like that? Your parents must be so proud of you! I know I would."

Jennie smiled fondly. It was great that Rosé earned the older woman's stamp of approval. Unbeknownst to most, Soojin was a great judge of character. It was one of the main reasons why she was elected as the Head Auror of the Ministry.

Rosé was unable to hide her incredulity. "You know me?"

"Of course, I do." The older woman furrowed her brows in confusion as if Rosé asked a rather odd query. "News spreads fast in here. The Ministry of Magic keeps a close coordination with the schools involved in the Triwizard Tournament to ensure the safety and sanctity of the competition." Her frown deepened and there was darkness that flashed in her eyes. A certain kind of horror enough to traumatize a person.

"We wouldn't want another innocent life to be lost in that tournament." There was something about the Head Auror's statement that seemed foreboding, almost like a warning, but Rosé couldn't quite decipher the meaning behind it.

Suddenly, the gloomy aura disappeared and Soojin was back to her cheerful self as if nothing ever happened. "Would you girls like some tea? I have chamomile ones shipped here yesterday." She flicked her wand and transfigured a few books into teacups and a little china pot. Conjuring some scones and biscuits out of thin air, she conversed with the girls while preparing the tea. "The Headmistress of Castelobruxo was kind enough to send some gifts as thanks when I volunteered to teach her students some techniques in Defense Against the Dark Arts during my visit in Brazil for the Wizarding Convention."

"Uh there's no need for that Soojin. We're just here to stop by." Jennie waved off her efforts and Rosé hissed under her breath. They shared a look and a little argument has transpired within that momentary staring contest.

What? The short girl didn't bother hiding the yawn that escaped her mouth.

Don't be rude! She prepared tea! Rosé glared and sent daggers towards her friend with her eyes. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to decline tea!

So? We've been here long enough. I still have matters to attend to. Jennie rolled her eyes in exasperation. Tell her your business and be done with it so we can leave.

In the end, Rosé lost the argument. It's no surprise really. Jennie always wins arguments, even petty ones. The Beauxbatons champion expressed her disapproval for her friend one last time before apologizing to the Head Auror. "Pardon our intrusion ma'am. We'll be out of your hair soon. I'd just like to give you something." With that, she took out the crumpled piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it over to Soojin, who studied it curiously.

"This belongs to Sooyoung." The Auror commented as she read the heading were the familiar penmanship of her daughter was printed. It was an Arithmancy test and a large D- was written on the topmost portion in bold red ink. Her eyes widened when she noticed the offensive mark and stuttered in response. "H-How?" She was in disbelief. How could Sooyoung fail? As far as she knew, her daughter was doing quite well in school.

"I'm friends with your daughter, you see." The lie tasted bitter in Rosé's mouth but she forged on. There was no stopping now. She'd come this far. Her revenge was finally at hand.

Jennie was momentarily shocked at her friend's claims but she recovered immediately, schooling her expression into neutrality. She'd swear on her soul that the two weren't friends, not even close. They were sworn rivals eager to slit each other's throats.

So why did Rosé lie?

The Beauxbatons champion took out a folder from her purse and gingerly held it in her grasp as if it were a top secret file. The document contained records of Sooyoung's misdeeds in school, including all the exams she failed and the numerous rules she'd broken. Rosé had a hard time gathering this evidence. She even had to persuade Filch, the Hogwarts Caretaker, to let her borrow the records. Thankfully, a box of muffins and pints of Butterbeer did its trick. "This file contains Sooyoung's performance in school."

She gingerly handed over the said folder to the Head Auror, who gingerly accepted it. She looked quite terrified at the revelations she might stumble upon. "I'm concerned with how Sooyoung has been conducting herself lately. It's unbefitting of a Hogwarts student." The last line was rather harsh but Rosé ignored the lingering guilt in her heart. Besides, Soojin had the right to know about her daughter's shenanigans.

The older woman blanched upon reading the lengthy list of school rules her daughter had broken. It was also indicated that the Slytherin failed Potions twice and was advised to take remedial classes. Oh dear god. What has her daughter gotten herself into? Soojin felt lightheaded. She thought that Sooyoung was doing completely fine. Her daughter never said anything about struggling in school. How come she never noticed? She failed as a mother. Where did she go wrong? In the end, she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to accept the bitter reality. "Thank you for informing me." Her fingers trembled as she fought to keep her voice steady. "You're a great friend Rosé."

The Head Auror lost all her warmth as she lifelessly leaned against the mahogany desk for support. Her vacant eyes were staring in the distance, completely lost in thought. Rosé bit her lip and wondered if she did the right thing. If revealing everything to Sooyoung's mom was the right decision. But she didn't have enough time to contemplate because Jennie was already leading her out of the office while apologizing to Soojin and promising to come back in the future. They left the Aurors Headquarters and walked until no other person was in sight. The Beauxbatons champion was too late to realize that her friend already dragged her into a corner to interrogate her.

"That was a low blow Chaeyoung." Jennie used her birth name, a clear indication of her disappointment. Her dark eyes were harsh and unforgiving which caused Rosé remain firmly rooted in place. "Involving her mother in your petty squabbles. I thought you were better than that." Poisonous venom coated every inch of her merciless words.

Rosé, for her part, tried to defend her actions. Maybe it was a way for her to hide her guilt. "She deserved it Jen! She pranked me by sending that blasted plant and tried to destroy my reputation by launching that smear campaign. This payback is nothing compared to what she did to me!" She was desperate to make her friend see sense, to make Jennie take her side, but the shorter girl merely shook her head. Jennie was clearly having none of her excuses.

"You crossed the line. I'm very disappointed in you Park Chaeyoung." A small frown marred her face and for the first time since forever, Rosé became the recipient of Jennie's vicious words. In their long years of friendship, this never happened before. The short girl was usually considerate around her. The Beauxbatons champion that it was the last but apparently, Jennie wasn't done yet. "Have fun returning to Hogwarts on your own."

"Jennie?"

The said girl stiffened at the sound of a familiar voice calling out her name. She turned around only to find the Junior Assistant to the Head Minister staring at her in confusion. There was a slight crease on her formal maroon dress, which greatly contrasted with the neat persona she usually presented. "What are you doing here?"

A stern-looking woman, with silky black hair tied to a strict bun and donned a neatly-pressed black blazer, form-fitting black pencil skirt and ebony stiletto heels that could easily stab a person, stood beside the Junior Assistant and when the Beauxbatons girl got a closer look, she realized that the woman was in fact, the Head of the Ministry of Magic.

Oh crap!

Oh shit!

What rotten luck she had.

Jennie signalled Rosé to stay quiet and just let her do the talking. They approached the women and stopped just a few inches away, enough to maintain a respectful distance. "Hey mom--" Then she turned to address the higher ranking official within the vicinity. She fought hard not to squirm under that cold gaze. The Head Minister can be particularly intimidating. "--And Head Minister Bae Jihyo. Fancy seeing the both of you here." She spoke through false smiles and fake cheerfulness. Shit. Shit. Shit! Her mind quickly formulated different scenarios that will allow them to escape this confrontation unscathed.

"Is this your daughter Eunji?" Minister Bae questioned her friend and colleague. Eunji merely nodded in response, still confused as to what her daughter was doing in the Ministry. "She'd grown so much. The last time I saw her, she was only a foot shorter than my Joohyun." Then her inquisitive gaze landed on Rosé. "And who's your friend?"

Jennie silently cursed herself for forgetting to introduce her friend. Her manners were seriously lacking these days. "Oh yes, this is Rosé Park, my friend and the chosen Beauxbatons champion." She made sure to add the prestigious title so the women would regard Rosé with a little more appraisal. If they ever found out that her friend was a half-blood, well, it's safe to say that they'd regard her like an insignificant insect. Yes, they might've had their little disagreement but Jennie wouldn't wish Rosé to be treated that way.

"I've heard so much about you Miss Park." There was a hint of an approving smile gracing the Head Minister's lips. Jennie released a breath she didn't know that she'd been holding. So far so good. "That impressive defeat of the dragon by using only the Freezing charm was a nice touch. A feat that will surely go down the history of the Triwizard Tournament." A sudden thought occurred to Minister Bae and she frowned. "Though I heard rumors that a Muggleborn had been chosen to participate in the tournament." She uttered the word Muggleborn as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"You mean Son Seungwan? The Hogwarts champion from Ravenclaw?" Rosé joined in the conversation but quickly regretted it when Jennie sent her a dangerous glare. What did I tell you about keeping silent?! Her eyes screamed with unhindered malice.

"So that's her name." Minister Bae was unable to hide her disapproval. Son Seungwan huh? Even her name sounded vile. "Honestly, I don't know what Dumbledore is thinking these days, allowing a Muggleborn to join the tournament like that. Clearly Purebloods are the better contestants."

"True." Eunji agreed. "The educational quality is seriously lacking these days.

Jennie just wanted to leave and get the fuck out of here. She didn't have time to deal with this Pureblood Supremacy bullshit. "As much as we'd like to stay and chat, we need to go back. Rosé still has some training to do for the upcoming task."

"Okay. Be safe on your journey back."

With that, Jennie dragged Rosé away and left without saying goodbye. Once the Beauxbatons students were out of earshot, Eunji turned to address Minister Bae.

"We need to intervene Jihyo. This is is ridiculous! That upstart mudblood shouldn't even be allowed to compete in the first place!" She tried to make her colleague see sense. It was an insult to the wizarding community to have a Muggleborn participate in the Triwizard Tournament since it completely defies tradition. This was just not acceptable. "She needs to be eliminated."

"I'm well aware of that Eunji. We can't just waltz into Hogwarts and stop the tournament. Dumbledore would surely defy us." Minister Bae tapped her chin as she contemplated on the possible solutions to their current problem. So far, she came up with nothing.

"Well, there's this upcoming Yule Ball. Every prestigious wizarding family will surely attend it. Maybe we can convince them to join our cause and have that pesky muggleborn voted out of the competition." Eunji flawlessly laid out her plan and it was only a matter of time before--

"You're right." The Head of the Ministry nodded in agreement. This absurdity must be stopped. It has gone on long enough.

"It's time we pay Hogwarts a little visit."

#wenrene #irene #wendy #hogwarts #hp au #Harry Potter #red velvet #the magic between us

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lasercruz · 4 years

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@quarterdollar fuck you and im sorry that i took so long to answer and i hope that im mostly coherent because i am. very tired as im typing this

1: Full name Nicky Jackie Marie Cruz !!

2: Age 21

3: 3 Fears Mold, tall heights if I’m not secured (like, I’m not scared of rollercoaster heights but I’m scared of like, cliffs), and balloons esp balloon animals

4: 3 things I love I love so many things uhh hh h. Jjba, adventure zone, and my friendssss 💞

I know turn ons/offs aren’t inherently sexual but i never know what to say for them so im skipping them :0

7: My best friend you 🥺🥺

8: Sexual orientation bi

9: My best first date ive never really been on a actual date :0

10: How tall am I 5′3

11: What do I miss being with my friends physically and just watching stuff or goofing around on the floor 😭

12: What time were I born 11:02pm

13: Favourite color Dark blues

14: Do I have a crush yes shh

15: Favourite quote there so much sappy quotes that are on uquizzes a lot that i like a lot the first that comes to mind is “ You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.” and so on and also “if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more”

16: Favourite place As far as just physically and not like people or other stuff that comes with with a place, I miss VT campus a lot tbh more than I thought I would. To pick a more specific place, the gazebo at the duck pond cause its where I’d go if I wanted to be alone or like if my roommate was sleeping or working and i didnt want to worry about being quite and it was always super peaceful

17: Favourite food I dont really have One favorite food it just depends what I’m in the mood for but my go to answer for favorite food category wise is either chinese or seafood

18: Do I use sarcasm Depends who I’m with ?? Generally no not often but if im close with someone and just goofin yeah

19: What am I listening to right now My love song playlist. its my go to thing to listen to cause my playlist with all my music has so much on it that i end up skipping half the songs until i find something im in the mood for and this one has a lot less that i end up skipping. the current song its on is day without you by keep for cheap

20: First thing I notice in new person It depends on the person like if they have something that stands out about them, thats what I tend to notice but like. How they carry themself i guess ? cause i feel like thats a easy way to get a read on somebody before talking to them

21: Shoe size 5 mens / 7 womans

22: Eye color Brown

23: Hair color Naturally dark brown but currently dyed black with rainbow bangs

24: Favourite style of clothing this question is on so many ask games and quizzes and I never know how to answer it cause i feel like i dont really have one specific style,, I like colorful and fun stuff i guess ?

25: Ever done a prank call? No and if you prank call a place of business youre annoying. i used to answer phones at work and we didn’t get them super often but GOD i hate prank callers

27: Meaning behind my URL emu is an old nickname and what i mainly went by until i settled on Nicky and this. is my blog.

28: Favourite movie Baby driver !!

29: Favourite song my go to answer for this is community gardens by the scary jokes

30: Favourite band THE SCARY JOKES

31: How I feel right now sleeby,,,,

32: Someone I love i love , my friendz ,, 🥺🥰

33: My current relationship status single ✌️

34: My relationship with my parents im close to my mom but i dont really get along with my dad ,

35: Favourite holiday Christmas !

36: Tattoos and piercing i have no tattoos, 3 piercings in each ear (2 on each earlobe and 1 on the top on each side)

37: Tattoos and piercing i want I want a interrobang on my wrist and an Aquarius symbol on my ankle and MAYBE the joestar birthmark, i wouldn’t mind more ear piercings and i want a septum piercing but ive seen videos of them getting done and they make me squirm i dont know if id go through with it

38: The reason I joined Tumblr sdklgkjgh i had a my little pony roleplay blog before i made my personal account

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? no we’re good friends !!

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? no not regularly at least

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? no

42: When did I last hold hands? my mom tried to hold my hand when i was half asleep on the couch the other day but like i was so out of it so like it was more our fingers together and the rest of my hand just loosely dangling so if that doesnt count, you

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? i give myself about 2 hours if im doing full makeup but thats purposefully longer than i need so i dont have to worry about rushing and i can relax and take my time

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? no i only shave them if they’re gonna be showing or if the Urge to be Smooth comes over me

45: Where am I right now? my room at home on my bed

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? probably Kaylie cause she doesn’t drink and i assume if im drunk with other friends there she’d be the only sober one

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? Reasonable, if i have it too loud i cant think so the only time i have my music loud is if im doing nothing and want to Not Think

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? Ye

49: Am I excited for anything? short term im excited for the ai crushes all banks stream tonight and long term im excited to move into our apartment

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? no im not a tell everything to someone type of person .

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? i smile most of the time like, at work (before we wore masks) id always be smiling to look nice and like. just in general if i want to Not Look Unhappy or whatever

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? my mom probably like, yesterday

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? ive never kissed any1 .

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? nope i don’t think i really trust easily so like this doesnt rlly happen,

55: What is something I disliked about today? i woke up late cause i was up late last night so ive been tired all day I dont like the feeling

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? language barriers aside itd be super cool to meet hirohiko araki

57: What do I think about most? Whatever media im currently most into so right now adventure zone and magnus archives

58: What’s my strangest talent? umm i dunno im kinda flexable i guess ? not like ~contortionist~ level but like enough that i can freak people out sometimes

59: Do I have any strange phobias? i mentioned balloons as a fear in an eariler question so yeah that but im a lot better about it than i used to be

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? in front tbh

61: What was the last lie I told? i was on phones for the last hour and a half of my shift on friday and like. when people call and ask if an item is in stock and i can’t confirm it i, just tell them its not. like, someone asked if we had a specific kayak and i usually just search the walmart app or run over to where itd be to check but the kayaks are to far for me to run to and the app said limited stock which usually means little to none so , i just put it on hold for a bit then tell him we’re out.

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? i like video chatting in theory cause its nice to see people visibly react to stuff but i tend to get too self conscious about how i look so i just do audio only

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? yes to both !! i am both

64: Do I believe in magic? yes in some ways i suppose

65: Do I believe in luck? yes im v superstitious

66: What’s the weather like right now? its a pretty good day its sunny but not too hot :oo

67: What was the last book I’ve read? its been ages since i last read a book in full 😔 i honestly dont knwo what the last one would of been 😔 😔

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? yes !!! love it

69: Do I have any nicknames? not anything i get consistently called no

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? ive never gotten super hurt that i can think of ??

71: Do I spend money or save it? save it

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? no

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? doppio bean plush ,,,,

74: Favourite animal? hedgehogs!!!!

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? on my phone probably on tiktok or something waiting for jojo to come on toonami

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? I? dont think he has one i guess ??

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? butterflies by samsa but it makes me happy in the “im crying now” kinda way itss cute

78: How can you win my heart? just by being nice and respectful tbh ,

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? idk i dont really want anything fancy just my name (chosen name please god im so scared of dying and geting my birth name on my tombstone if that happens i WILL come back as a vengeful ghost) and my birth and death dates

80: What is my favorite word? saccharine

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr by my tumblr crushes (which its been YEARS since i looked at) ; frostios, 27names4tears, smollpurrito, happynaru, and warpedlamp

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? if we being real id just get so scared dsjkfsldjglg theres so much i could say i dont know :((

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? not ? that i know of

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? why are all the questions worded super basic except this one skdlskdjfj. Shape shifting

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? i can really think of anything really as long as a friend is asking i tend to answer truthfully ?

86: What is my current desktop picture? Sobble BUT this reminded me that i wanted to change it to a xenoblade pic so its this now :

90: Failed a class? no

91: Kissed a boy? no

92: Kissed a girl? no

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? no but oh god just thinking about that im 🥺🥺🥺🥺 id die id melt 🥺🥺

94: Had job? ye i was a cashier for a year in highschool and then i work in wamlart apparel in the summers

95: Left the house without my wallet? not when I know ill need it no, but ive left it home if im just going to a friend or family member’s house or i have my mom’s card or some cash in my pocket

96: Bullied someone on the internet? no !!

98: Played on a sports team? no lmao i dont do sports

99: Smoked weed? no

100: Did drugs? i had a weed brownie like once but it was such a small piece i didnt really feel anything

101: Smoked cigarettes? no

102: Drank alcohol? Ye

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? not currently i was vegan for a little bit to encourage a friend that was doing it though

104: Been overweight? no

105: Been underweight? no

106: Been to a wedding? yes three, my grandma’s when she got remarried, and both my brothers

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? probably yes lmao often

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? not TV TV but if netflix and the like count then yes

109: Been outside my home country? no :(

110: Gotten my heart broken? not ? really no

111: Been to a professional sports game? ive been to a handful of Yankee games

112: Broken a bone? no

114: Been to prom? yes i went to my highschool’s and a friend’s highschool’s my senior year

115: Been in airplane? no

116: Fly by helicopter? no

117: What concerts have I been to? none :((((

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? ye

119: Learned another language? i took 3 years of Spanish in high school but i wasn’t any good at it and dont really remember much of what i did learn

120: Wore make up? yes i do often :0

123: Dyed my hair? ye a lot

124: Voted in a presidential election? yes ever since iv been old enough to i vote

125: Rode in an ambulance? no

126: Had a surgery? dental surgery yes

127: Met someone famous? Not anyone i’d count no

128: Stalked someone on a social network? depends on what you count as stalking i guess but like not ever in a creepy way like ive been on people’s social media to find out stuff about them like. if theyre in a relationship or especially after highschool ill wonder about someone i havent talked to in awhile and ill see what theyve been up to and what theyre doing with their life and stuff

129: Peed outside? no

130: Been fishing? yes like once

131: Helped with charity? donation wise yes

132: Been rejected by a crush? ive never confessed to anyone and been rejected but once a friend told my crush i liked them and they confronted me about it and rejected me but it made me more mad at the friend that told them than it made me sad about being rejected because i knew it’d probably go like that and it justmade thing awkward between us for awhile 😔

133: Broken a mirror? ive broken the little mirrors inside eyeshadow pallets but i havent broken full ones

134: What do I want for birthday? usually just money lol or something thoughtful and cute

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? i aggresivly do NOT want kids BUT hypohetically Elliot or Xander for a boy and idk what i’d nam a girl

136: Was I named after anyone? no

137: Do I like my handwriting? its messy so no not really but if im writing something for myself like a not or whatever i dont mind as long as i can read it

138: What was my favourite toy as a child? even as a little kid i always played computer games but other than that, this guy :

139: Favourite Tv Show? Jojo

140: Where do I want to live when older? New york or japan

141: Play any musical instrument? i can kind of play harmonica

142: One of my scars, how did I get it? i burnt my thumb kinda bad on the oven a while ago its still kinda healing but right now it looks like its gonna stay a scar

143: Favourite pizza toping? i like everything/suprieme pizza but if i have to pick one single topping pepperoni

144: Am I afraid of the dark? yes :((

145: Am I afraid of heights? mentioned it earlier but yes if im not strapped in or secured etc

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? no im so scared of being caught doing something bad that i just. dont

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? i mean yes but thats life babey

149: What my greatest achievments are ive gotten awards for grades and stuff but that boring BUT i got the english department award or whatever that was called im very proud of that

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery i donate some and save the rest tbh

152: What do I like about myself i can be pretty sometimes 👉👈 im cute or whateva ,,,

153: My closest Tumblr friend i dont really havent “tumblr friends” aside from friends i know irl and also tey have tumblrs ,,

154: Something I fantasise about just. growing up and having my own place maybe with someone and. being comfortable and okay and not having to worry ,,

155: Any question you’d like? dkfjhdskhf japan :000

#ask #mine

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spidersanctuary · 4 years

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Follow up rat questions! Is it okay to house male rats together? And do you have suggestions for affordable/inexpensive housing for about three rats? Im seriously considering adopting three rats from my local humane society but wanna get their housing secure first since i dont make much money (full time student). I think ive seen people make temporary housing with plastic tub/containers and that would be ideal but if a rat mansion is reccomended i dont mind paying up

I will happily answer this but these are definitely also things you should be researching on your own, a lot of research. Here are some things to get you started. If anyone wants to add to this post, you’re welcome.

Emiology - Things you should know before owning rats (give the entire channel a look, for instance I just watched a video by them commenting on online rats for rat adoption and red flags to watch out for

Rat Care Guide

Rat and Mouse Gazette FAQ (and other articles there)

Yes, housing male rats together is okay, per se. Or rather, housing same sex groups in general is okay, and the caveats have more to do with age and the pre-existing relationship than the sex of the animal. In the pages linked above, the articles on rat introduction have a lot of info on this. In a nutshell: If you have juvenile rats who grow up together, they will generally get along just fine later in life. Introducing juveniles to adults is a bit more iffy (though quite doable), and introducing adults to adults is very iffy, and it does not really get less iffy if you have males or females.

You know, I actually made a DIY cage, but looking back on years of using it, I have to say it’s more trouble than it was worth. DIY may be in theory cheaper, but a good store-bought rodent cage should come with all the following benefits: 1) multiple doors in sufficient sizes, both to get the rats in and out and also to reach in and clean or customise, 2) being easy to accessorise, in terms of attaching new platforms/hanging mats/tunnels/etc. 3) being safe, in terms of bar spacing and escape-proof-ness, 4) being easy to disassemble in case you have to move or do a deep cleaning or something.

Maybe if you’re lucky enough to live in an area with these storage cube wire panels in the right mesh size (no larger than 1.5 cm, I’d say (EDIT: Something like this? )) you could give it a try. These plastic bin DIY cages you mention: know some people make these complex cages out of them, interconnected bins, but there are several problems with this. Unmodified bins don’t work because they have shit ventilation (which is important for rats) and are frankly too small. Plus, where do you attach platforms and accessories to? Etc. What some people do is basically turn the plastic tub walls into these cut-out windows covered with hardware cloth/chicken wire, essentially using the plastic bin only for the structural stability, and I suppose that could work, I have not tried this. But I have worked with hardware cloth and it’s an absolute pain. Oh, also: rats will gleefully chew through plastic.I just pictured a determined rat trying to chew on the edge of a plastic ‘window’ and then hurting itself or getting stuck between the plastic and the chicken wire while trying to squeeze out, and it’s not a good image. You do not want this anxiety in your life, and honestly, with ALL the modifications you would have to make to make the DIY cage rat-worthy and safe, you honestly might as well just save up for a decent store-bought one.

As tempting as it is to try to find a cost-effective solution for this, I do recommend to just buy a nice cage made for rats/chinchillas/degus instead. I honestly wish I had done that instead.

This CritterNation is a good example of a cage for like…a couple of rats, provided you use the space well i.e. fill it with interesting stuff for them to explore and hang around in. It looks easy to clean, it’s decently big, it has wheels you can use to move it around, it’s both large in terms of floor area and tall enough so that rats can jump and run around but also climb up, it has decently-sized platforms (and you can always add extra ones). A new one might cost over a hundred bucks, but it’s also pretty common to find people in online ads giving away cages for cheap, just be sure to clean them well. I would call this a rattie starter home. A proper rat ‘mansion’ would be something like twice its size.

The good news is that unlike the cage itself, accessories for the cage can actually get real cheap. (At least notwithstanding the urge to hopelessly spoil your rats constantly..) A lot of things can be repurposed into platforms (for instance I have a ‘fridge shelf’ in my cage, of course you have to cover up the wire, rats need their platforms to be solid and smooth or they can hurt their feet). Dollar store plastic baskets are super cheap and great, just put them everywhere. Fancy pet store hammocks are expensive but you can make basically the same thing out of rags or clean washcloths, I tend to just fold them together and pinch the ends with cable binders and attach that to the cage. Reused cardboard boxes (firm ones) will go a really long way. Accessorising is not a one-time thing, because switching up the cage interior is a good way to keep the ratties engaged (yet another reason why it’s good to have a cage that’s easy to customise, as opposed to me, who made a DIY cage with areas that are extremely uncomfortable to reach if I want to attach a hammock there or something).

I do have to warn you that it’s a good idea to have quite a substantial rat fund in case of an emergency. Namely: Vet bills. Though rats don’t really require regular checkups or the like that you’d get for dogs (for vaccination, for example), the vet costs can stack up really high if something happens. That’s something you need to keep in mind if money is an issue, so it doesn’t catch you off-guard.

#rats #rat care #pet rats #fancy rats

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

Holding Court In A Crown {Roger Taylor}

Sequel to And All The Queen’s Men {Roger Taylor}

A/N: 3630 words. Giselle is fun to write and I love her. Another article style, based off of many conversations between @ginghampearlsnsweettea and I. Let me know what you think.

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse masterpost]

HOLDING COURT IN A CROWN - GISELLE TAYLOR in conversation with Vogue UK about her fashion evolution through the decades. (Published June, 1991)

When stepping into the Taylor home, it becomes immediately apparent that this is a home in which public image has always been very important. Gold and Platinum albums alike line the front foyer, shining reminders of the achievements of both artists who reside here. It’s surprisingly modern, hardwood floors and large windows that allow light to stream in, though the house itself is smaller than one might expect. Giselle herself greets me in the front hall, looking carefully casual in a flattering, warm yellow summer dress, that hits just above her knees, and a pair of matching yellow slip on shoes.

I’m lead through the house, past closed doors, one of which I’m told is a personal recording studio, into a open-planned kitchen-dining area. It’s a strange marriage of two aesthetics, no pun intended, the German-inspired open planned living with the dark counters, appliances, and features that make the space feel a little smaller, though it comes together to make something modern and chic, and perfectly suited to both Giselle and her husband’s images.

“Roger’s with the girls,” she tells me, referring to her daughters, pouring us both a glass of water in some of the fanciest crystal glasses I’ve ever seen, “not that he wouldn’t jump at the chance to talk about his “fashion choices”,” her air quotes, not mine, “but I thought I’d spare you the half hour argument about the wine stain, and all the other, sundry fashion choices of mine that he likes to take credit for.”

Giselle herself admits that she’s always been very fortunate in terms of fashion, “I mean, I look good in everything,” though there’s an air of self deprecation about it, “Actually, I’ve had a certain liberty with my work attire that not a lot of people have, unless you’re in the entertainment industry.” What began with a rented cocktail dress bloomed into one of the most influential fashion timelines of the 70s and 80s.

Beginning her career in an establishment modeled after American prohibition-era speakeasies, Giselle started off wearing cocktail dresses rented from the pub itself. “I actually did start off as a waitress, but for that you just had to provide your own black pants and white top, you know, wait-staff attire.” When the pub’s regular singer leaves, Giselle auditions to be her replacement, “they were just grateful I could fit into her dress, I could lipsync for all they cared.” Except, as well all know, Giselle can sing, and begun to make a name for herself in the community that frequented the pub.

Pulling out a polaroid of herself and music industry giant Ray Forrester, she shows me the only proof she has of the dress that started it all. It’s a rather ill-fitting, wine-coloured, sateen slip dress, it looks cheap, and according to Giselle, “it itched like crazy, it was cleaned once a week, and I was just glad that I was the only singer, some of the members of the jazz band had interchangeable costumes.” We both shudder at that, and she puts the photo on the counter.

As soon as she was given some modicum of control over her wardrobe, she took full advantage of it. Without a coherent aesthetic solidified by the release of her first album, Giselle admits she used the tour for Velvet Roses to experiment with both fabrics and styles. I personally have always favoured the midnight blue, velvet bouffant-style dress she wore during her stops in Belfast and Paris, but she goes on to praise the white, silk slip dress she had during her stop in West Berlin.

“Silk! Oh the silk, I dream about that dress sometimes,” she laughs a little, and now that we’ve begun to discuss her tour outfits, she leads me upstairs, “at the time it was the most comfortable thing I’d worn… ever; being able to work, to perform in something so luxury? It was a blessing.”

Her closet, at least the closet she stores her tour garments in, is separate from her bedroom, and locked. She’s got the key in her pocket, prepared, of course, for the interview, and as we step in I can hear the hum of a dehumidifier, and feel the chill of the air conditioning.

“It’s my one real extravagance.” As she turns on the lights, we’re greeted to the sight of a room, approximately four meters deep and half as wide, lined with railings that are practically stuffed with garment bags of varying sizes, and the end of the little room has a built in area for her jewel toned and bejewelled shoes alike. Three mannequins pose in the ample amount of space in the centre of the room, each wearing one of her most iconic outfits.

Each section of the racks around the side are carefully labelled by year, and it takes only a moment for Giselle to go through the section labelled 1971 before she’s pulling that same white dress from a garment bag. It still looks pristine, and when she offers for me to feel it, I understand what she’s saying.

“I’ve always tried to keep a very high standard in term of the materials I wear,” it was the first part of her aesthetic identity that was formed. “I’d never really had access to luxury on this scale before; I’d lived in sweaters and jeans for most of my [university] days; I was one of those girls in the little skirts and beaded tops at clubs- I lived my life in gogo boots every weekend of my first year.” Apparently she still has her favourite pair in the back of her personal closet, but seems hesitant to show me.

When asked what prompted her aesthetic shift, she reveals her passion for luxury stage-wear was only part of the decision. “I’d go on stage in silk pyjamas like Hugh Hefner if I could, but it’s not my brand.” Forrester was a big motivating force behind her solidification as the picture of elegance.

We get to the first of the mannequin dresses now, the fitted, black, off the shoulder cocktail dress, shining with sequins and beads, a perfect frozen reminder of her performance on Top of the Pops. To see it in person, still pristine, I get hit with just a hint of nostalgia, as does Giselle herself it seems. Marvelling at it with arms crossed over her chest, I’m granted a closer look at what was quite possibly the most iconic outfit of the 1972 lineup on the hit British musical program. The gloves themselves are more intricate than first imagined; what was assumed to just be red glitter is actually hand stitched, red sequins from the tips of the finger all the way to the wrist where it fades to chunky, red glitter, glued on and somehow width standing the test of time, to then dissolve into fine and sparsely scattered red glitter from the mid-forearm to the elbow. The beads and sequins on the dress itself are affixed with barely noticeable, shiny red thread, that gives the dress dimension up close. Giselle cites Gothic Romanticism as an inspiration to add depth to her jazz-bar persona, as well as the theatrics of musical theatre, going so far as to called the dress the ‘Merry Murderess’ despite the fact that the musical Chicago premiered almost three years after the dress’ initial debut.

Despite this look being regarded as one of her classics, and therefore setting the standard for her public image for the years to come, there’s no denying that Giselle didn’t enjoy experimenting with her outfits.

“I’ve never technically worn pants on stage,” as we move further into the room, she begins to pull various garment bags from the racks seemingly at random, “skirts, skorts, shorts - which some might argue are close enough - dresses, and even full jumpsuits, but never actual pants; I’ve always been worried that they were too masculinising for my act.” Moving on to the rack labeled 1975, she pulls out a particularly slim bag, and from it she pulls a pair of shorts made of what looks like liquid gold, but I know is made of velvet, with suspenders to match. It hangs over a sheer, flowing, cream crop-top with bell sleeves.

This outfit is cited as the first time she had deviated from her skirts and dresses, though the outfit itself is still exquisite and has an air of regality. “I was in Phoenix in ‘74 when I wore this; I’d had it included in my repertoire for the Hand Held Heart tour in case it became especially hot, which, being Arizona in the summertime, it was.” It’s here we start to see the influence of other artists bleed into her work; the occasional feathery flamboyance borrowed from Elton John, the avant-garde pattern and makeup work popularised by David Bow, and of course, the extravagance and glitz of Queen’s Freddie Mercury.

“You always have to specify that it’s [Freddie Mercury],” she’s very serious on this point, holding up her iconic, short, incredibly sheer white, long-sleeved fitted dress, marbled with red sequins to protect her modesty. It’s reminiscent of the red and white shorts Mercury had been known to favour on tours. “The others, while, yes, they could be well dressed on occasion, [Roger Taylor]’s lime green jeans aside, they never had the flair or audacity that Freddie had to be truly influential.”

After recording a cover of Queen’s Jesus for her third album, Giselle entered into an unofficial partnership with the band, which she tells me included a collaboration with Mercury himself on their costumes.

“I’d spent a long time trying to merge my style and my musical origins with modern aesthetics; I worked very closely with a designer, since it’s not technically my strong suit.” She pauses for a moment, and we make our way to the mannequins again, this time to the second, a floor-length, evening-gown style dress in lilac, capped sleeves, looking as though it’s tie-dyed with blackcurrant glass beads instead of fabric dye. “Getting to collaborate with the band was easy enough; I did talk with [Jim Beach] regarding the use of the song, but he ultimately he ruled that it was up to them, and so once that connection was established, I actually asked Freddie to help me with some tour outfit designs.”

People often assume Giselle is referring to her team contacting Queen’s lawyer, but she goes on record now to explain that it’s not true. “I’m a lawyer, my own lawyer, and I also work for several big-name bands in the music industry today. EMI picked me up halfway through my final year, but I still continued to go to [university], and I did actually intern under (sic) [Beach] while writing my second album. “ I’m assured that she had just regular suits in her personal closet; three, in grey, black, and cream, well fitted, ‘but not why you’re here’ she adds with a self-deprecating smile.

The lavender and blackberry dress was one designed by Mercury himself, the pale lavender representative of elegance and femininity, while the darker blackcurrant is used to bring depth to the dress the same way Giselle’s unwavering, calculated persona brings depth to her performances. It was Mercury’s idea to interweave the two in the tie-dyed style, keeping Giselle’s traditional aesthetic through the glass beads and the cut of the dress.

As we continue along the timeline, it’s clear to see the effect Mercury had on Giselle’s stage wardrobe, the use of geometric patterns coupled with bold colours, and more glitter and sequins than you can shake a stick at becoming more prominent throughout the late 70s, somehow still managing to keep in line with her traditional aesthetic simultaneously.

“I refuse to wear print.” She’s adamant about it when the possibility of wearing a garment like Mercury’s vest with his cats painted on it comes up. “Geometric doesn’t count; the texture in my wardrobe is always going to be,” she pauses for a moment, searching for the right word, fingers brushing through the fur of the fur-cuffs of a long-sleeved purple velvet number, “diegetic.” She settles on, and it’s clear what she means; patterns on her clothes are always wrought through beads or diamonds or fur or other things attached. “It’s the reason I have it locked, [Lilith Taylor, 7] has left the ‘indiscriminately grabbing things that feel nice’ stage a few years ago, but Rosie [Rosemary Taylor, 4] is just at the tail end of it. They’ll have free reign of this place one day,” she looks around at the fashion legacy she has built for herself, she wears an expression of pride, though it’s more focused on her daughters than the clothes themselves, “but for now I want to keep choking hazards and expensive furs out of danger.”

Around the very end of the 70s to the beginning of the 80s we see a return to form, with the resurgence of her form-fitted cocktail dresses. “There was a lot of change happening in my life at that time, and as much as I enjoy experimenting with my looks, it helped me feel secure to know I was in what was objectively my strong suit, pun not intended.” According to her, she’d just begun seeing Roger Taylor, and she used her fashion choices to exercise control in her life that she felt she was losing.

“My private life has always been very private, now here I am with the man who trashes drum kits and throws TVs out window; I was so afraid that every time people took a photo of me, or even looked at me, they’d think I was compromising my morals or integrity - which I’m not, and I wasn’t then.” She quickly clarifies. “Our personal history is not void because of where we are now, but Roger and I have also changed as people, and we’re allowed to have our feelings change. I’m honestly a little offended people think I we would have gone through all we did for mere publicity.”

Speaking of Roger, I’m a little surprised her wedding dress isn’t one of those on the mannequins, but I understand her choice, and we’ll certainly get to that soon. Her wedding dress sits at the back of one of the racks, carefully distant from any of the year labels. As she removes it from the garment bag, she gives it a softly nostalgic smile, brushing the fabric gently. “This should really go in my own closet.” It’s unlike most of her other outfits here, such a pale cream it’s almost white, floor-length and sleeveless with a Roman-inspired cinched waist topped with what I hesitate to even call ruffles, their drapings so loose it’s reminiscent of curled hair rather than a traditional ruffle. The material is so soft and light that even on a hanger it looks a little ethereal. It’s simple, elegant, and the very sight of it brings joy to her face.

“’81.” The year is surprising, as is the revelation she shares about how they celebrated their tenth anniversary a few months prior. Putting the dress away, we move to the early eighties, and it’s almost cyclical the way we’re brought back to the ‘Merry Murderess’ aesthetic with the lineup from her ‘The Bend Before The Break’ tour.

“Everyone and their mother seems to have read the article [All The Queen’s Men, Rolling Stone, 1985] and figured out I was in a shaky place at the time; it’s again about having that modicum (sic) of control. Part of me reverted to portraying myself in the way when I felt like I was at the height of control in my relationships and career. It’s a pretty aesthetic,” she gently pulls a velvet, wine-coloured cocktail dress from the rack, giving it a gentle pat, “it made my stage presence feel good, honestly.” It doesn’t sound bitter, but she puts the dress back.

Apologising for a moment, she explains the large gap between ‘82 and ‘84, with her Finally, Sunlight tour. “After coming home from the [The Bend Before The Break] tour, I took some time to myself; I was, of course, still writing, but I couldn’t really perform or make any big public appearances after like, July in ‘83, because I was quite pregnant, and, again, I’m a private person.” The Finally, Sunlight tour is known for two things, Giselle wearing gold, silver, and copper, in any and every way she could, and the Atlanta Breakdown.

“I wore metallics because Finally, Sunshine is about my baby girls, and they are so precious to me.” As was made clear in the Rolling Stone article, Giselle and Roger lost one of their twin daughters to illness in Autumn of 1984, though Lilith survived, it took a devastating toll on the couple. Moving past that, we’re finally brought to the crown jewel of the collection; her Live Aid dress.

It’s almost the antithesis to the ‘Merry Murderess’, though it shares a similar neckline and off-the-shoulder style. The Live Aid dress, which Giselle calls ‘Queen Midas’ for reasons I’ll get into later, has a white, crushed velvet bodice with an inbuilt corset, and basque waistline. Beneath the waist is a enough layers of thin and flowing georgette to become completely opaque, like a waterfall from the waistline, the colours fading from a bright, sunshine yellow at the hip, to a rich, sunset orange by the knee, and finally to a smokey, warm-toned charcoal where it brushes the ground, with gold jewels dotted around the bottom and creeping almost to the knee in some sporadic places, reminiscent of embers in a fire. Her gloves are white velvet, and just like with the first of her most iconic outfits, it’s gold sequinned fading to actual glitter and diamonds.

“I took a hard look at where I was and what I had achieved, and... whether or not I can help it, I effect people, through my music, my actions, through what I wear, and can be a double edged sword. Sometimes it can hurt, or I can hurt others by saying or doing the wrong thing, but sometimes I find myself wanting for nothing; everything I’ve held close has turned to gold. I wanted to show that, to be able to be a part of something that gives back to the world where it’s given me so much.”

With all her most well-known outfits having been covered, there’s one more that comes to the top of my head; the jacket of 1980. The tabloids had a field day with her choice of wardrobe as she stepped out of a car with the rest of Queen wearing a salmon and green floral, double breasted suit jacket, with silver buttons and silver stilettos, with sheer, thigh high white socks held up by a garter belt, hair fashionably messy, but makeup pristine. The deviation from her usual pristine image had shocked both paparazzi and public alike, however the daring outfit had quickly been lauded as one of her best, many publications who ran photos even citing it as the entertainment industry’s hottest innovative look of the decade. Even since it has stood the test of time, and has been attributed to the rise of patterned and bold suit jacket purchases by men and women alike, with the outfit have been cited as inspiration for more than one celebrity’s red carpet look.

Now, however, something, possibly amusement, possibly annoyance, crosses her face, and she tells me it’s not here. The jacket is Mercury’s. “We were on our way to a party being hosted by [Elton John], and I’d only been with Rog for a few months at this point; so we’re in the back of the limo with the other [members of Queen] and Roger’s spilled his wine on my nice, white cocktail dress.” It seems like a bittersweet memory, and she reminds me of her earlier comment about the ‘wine stain argument’. “In hindsight, everything worked out, but at the time I was absolutely livid; very nearly killed him in that backseat. Poor [John Deacon] literally had to drag me off of him. [It] took both him and Freddie to hold me back when Roger got out once we arrived, and they had the driver circle the block again so I could change into Freddie’s jacket, which he so kindly lent to me.”

From her tone, and her following comments about how her husband likes to bring it up, it seems as though it’s a well worn argument of how Roger Taylor enjoys taking credit for the look, though Giselle doesn’t seem like she enjoys giving him the satisfaction.

“My image has always been about how much I can control what people see of me, and to have that control taken away by a careless action, it really hurt. A man like Roger, in the entertainment industry, is never going to face the kind of scrutiny that I do, it’s the reason you’re here at all, talking to me about fashion rather than say, how difficult it is to be a practicing lawyer in the music industry while raising two beautiful daughters. And I still write music on occasion. But people remember what you show them, how you present yourself; my tour wardrobe is a reflection of the persona I let interact with the world, and it’s beautiful, and a legacy that will probably outlive me to some extent.

“Do I regret any of my fashion choices? I don’t really have the liberty to, do I? And either way, they’re part of the reason I’m where I am today; I made a niche for myself that was built initially on my aesthetic, if I’m being generous, so I suppose I’ll always be grateful to it.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor imagine #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #borhap imagine #the angry lizard writes

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findtheloveofmylife · 5 years

Text

Something Stupid (III)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x OC (Lily Hathaway)

Summary: He was not the type to pine or whatever you wanted to call it. It usually was the opposite, they pined for him, they wanted to be with him, which is probably why he was way out of his element with her.

Author’s Note: I uploaded later than expected (I went to the snow and there was no internet there) but its here, just like I promised. Because of the holidays, I specifically wrote this for this occasion. Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate it, and to those that don’t have a wonderful day!

(also these chapters keep getting longer and longer. I’m sorry? but I just have a lot to write about these twos.) (and also, someone mentioned in the comments about how this fic reminds them of “Just What I Needed” by the Cars and oh my god, I see it! If you want to tell me more songs that remind you of this story or just in general, please do! I would more than love that!)

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—

Holliday’s had the tendency of making people overly sentimental. Roger could admit that he was one of those people. Which is probably why Christmas could have been what first made him start looking at Lily in a different light (although he didn’t know it at the time).

“This is stupid,” he had grumbled when Freddie had announced few weeks before Christmas that they were going to be doing Secret Santa. He hadn’t participated in those holidays games since grade school and wasn’t interest to do it as an adult.

But no matter how much he grumbled and argued, everyone ignored him and started writing their names in pieces in papers. After they were finished, Freddie placed all their names in Lily’s hat (that woman was always bloody cold, she needed to go see a doctor) and proceeded to pass it around to everyone.

“The name you pick is the one you’re stuck with. No exchanging names,” he warned them, giving Brian a look.

“What if you get yourself?” Roger asked when Freddie passed him the hat and reluctantly picked a name.

“Then get yourself something nice,” Lily told him, who already got her name and was folding her paper, slipping it in her jean pocket. “Like a nice pair of shoes.”

“You think that’s what I would get myself?” he asked, offended at what a shitty gift she had suggested.

“Socks?” she guessed. He made a face that she reciprocated. While he his hatred toward Lily had dissolved once his car door had been fixed, he still tended to end up bickering with her about pretty much anything. “Oh, I know, pants.”

“I’d rather get nothing than that.”

“Okay, I think that's everyone,” Freddie said, interrupting them. “Remember the rules, no changing names unless you got yourself, don’t go below the budget but you can go over if you want and we exchange gifts on Christmas Eve.”

“This is going to be fun,” Lily said, grinning at John.

Thankfully, Roger didn’t get himself. Instead, he had gotten Brian, which honestly relieved him. He would be easy to buy his gift than if Roger were to have gotten Freddie or Mary. He tried to gauge the expression of everybody, hoping to identify who got him but everyone seemed to be doing a pretty good job at hiding who they got.

“Who’d you get?” Roger asked the first person who he could get when they were heading out, which happened to be Lily.

“Hmmm, let me see,” she said and pulled out her paper. Roger was leaning in to take a peak when she pushed his face with her hand. “It’s none of your business that’s what.”

“Come on,” he groaned, following her. “If you tell me who you got, I’ll tell you who I got.”

“God, why are you such a child?”

“And why are you such a bore?”

“I am not a bore. I am the kind of girl that you wish would attend your parties.”

Roger laughed loudly. He was pretty sure they were now talking about a different person. Roger hadn’t realized he had been walking towards Lily’s car until they reached it.

“You got John didn’t you?” he asked as she opened the door.

She squinted at him. “Don’t tell me you got John?”

“Did we both get John?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past John to pull some shit like that. One time he managed to convince me that I didn’t buy him a birthday present when I had. Bastard.”

Changing his techniques, Roger quickly snatched the hat from her head. She yelped and looked ready to lunge at him, but thought better and stayed put in her spot. “I’ll give it back if you tell me who you got,” he bargained.

“I’m not telling you who I got,” she said flatly, and extended her hand, making him groan and handed her back her hat.

“You’re no fun.”

“You’re an asshole,” she said, getting in the car, and slamming the door shut. He shook his head at her in disbelief as she drove away. Once she was gone, he sighed, realizing that he didn’t get a clue on who got him and was going to walk back to his car. Guess that’s what he got for making a point to park on the other side whenever Lily was there.

—=—

Christmas Eve soon came upon them, and Roger found himself with everyone cramped in Mary’s living room, exchanging their Secret Santa gifts. Naturally, Freddie demanded to go first.

“For the love of my life,” Freddie said and handed his gift to a beaming Mary. He gave her a long kiss which made Lily give them a wolf whistle. Roger laughed, making Lily look over at him.

“Nice hat,” he mouthed, pointing to her Santa hat she had chosen to wear that evening. It matched her red dress, that he had tempted to make a comment when he had seen her but stopped himself with the warning look John threw him.

“Thank you,” she said, completely choosing to ignore his sarcasm. After Mart finished marveling the beautiful dress that Freddie had given her, she then gave her gift to John, who then gave his gift to Freddie.

“I’ll go next,” Brian offered, who was closest to Freddie. He picked up his gift, stood up and went towards Lily’s direction. “Happy Christmas, Lils.”

“Thank you, Brian,” she said, standing up and taking his gift. Without a warning, she pulled Brian into a tight hug, and Brian’s surprised expression made everyone laugh. Everyone had quickly learned that Lily was a hugger, but was still taken back at the intensity of them. Once she realized him, Brian went back to his seat and Lily opened his gift.

“Oh, my goodness,” she laughed in delight when she saw the gift and looked at Brian. “Where did you get these?”

“A friend of mine,” Brian answered vaguely.

“You have more friend than us?” Freddie asked, making John cackle loudly. Brian threw a pillow in their direction.

“Books?” Roger asked skeptically when he got a good look at Lily’s gift.

“Yes, books,” Lily said. “Psychology books that I have been wanting forever but have been too cheap to buy for myself.”

“You’re fun,” he muttered, earning him a pillow to the head.

“Thank you, Brian,” she said again.

“I’m glad you like them,” Brian said, looking pleased with herself. When she turned to pull out her gift, Brian leaned in and whispered to Roger, “You have no idea how panicked I was when I got her.”

“Could’ve gotten her scarfs. That’s what I got her, that woman is always bloody cold,” he muttered, making Brian laugh.

“Alright, my turn,” Lily practically sang, smiling widely, holding her gift, which was neatly wrapped with a huge bow in the middle. It should’ve been obvious for Roger who she got but still was a little surprised when she went towards him. He stood up when she reached him. “Happy Christmas, Roger,” she said sincerely.

“Thank you,” he said, taking her gift from her hands. He glanced at it and then at her, and went to give her a quick hug, but of course, Lily was having none of that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

“We should go outside and have a cigarette after this is over,” she whispered in his ear. She let him go before he could respond and went back to her seat. He weighted the gift, trying to figure out what it could possibly be.

“Open it,” Mary ordered.

“I’m going to, calm down,” he said and reluctantly ripped the wrapping paper. He found a box and felt a slight dread. She got him shoes, he was almost certain. So, imagine his surprise when he opened the box and found three pairs of sunglasses. “Huh,” he said.

“What is it?” Brain peered and grinned at him. “Look at that. Haven’t you been complaining that you wanted a new pair of sunglasses.”

“I have,” he admitted, picking one of them and trying them on. The sunglasses were really nice, one of them was even one he had been contemplating on getting for a while. He took them off and looked at Lily, giving her a smile. “Thank you, Lily. These are great.”

“You’re welcome,” she said and something about her nonchalant response made him suspicious. He had expected her to be more... enthusiastic or at least annoying about it. Go on about how lucky he was to get her. And then there was her whisper about going outside after this.

Yeah, she was definitely getting him back for switching her drinks from the last party.

“That leaves you, Roger.”

“Oh, right,” he said and grabbed his gift. He handed it to Brian. “Hope you like it, mate.”

Brian had liked to his gift, a small telescope, and after they had finished the Secret Santa, they exchanged others gifts they had bought for each other. Freddie gave Mary jewelry, Brian gave Roger a bottle of whiskey, Lily gave John a few dress shirts and many more gifts were exchanged. Halfway through, Roger excused himself for a smoke break. He sat on the ledge of the window, and after a few minutes of smoking alone, Lily joined him, holding a gift bag with her.

“Hello, hello,” she said and took a seat next to him. Because of the small size of the windows, their shoulders were tightly pressed against each other.

“Where’s the hat?” He pointed to her bare head.

“Deacy’s wearing it for me.”

“I bet you look better with it.”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Deacy is making it work better than I have.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and took a drag from his cigarette.

“Do you have another cigarette?” she asked him.

“Yeah, hold on,” he said and pulled out a packet and a lighter, handing it to her.

“Ooh, its new,” Lily said, grinning at him, taking one and lighting it. She took a drag and sighed contently.

“You don’t usually smoke,” he commented, finding it strange to see her holding a cigarette.

“No, I do, but not as much as you guys do. Only on special occasions.”

“Is this a special occasion? Is this why you wanted to get me alone? Wait, do you want to shag?” he said, giving her a suggestive look.

She patted his cheek. “Sometimes I wonder what goes inside your head when you talk.”

“You didn’t say no.”

She rolled her eyes and then turned to her right, picking up the gift bag. “Listen, we don’t talk a lot and when we do, its just to bicker. Frankly, I feel that’s because you’re still plotting my murder because of what I did to your car,” she said, her hands nervously fiddling with the present.

“Don’t remind me,” he said wryly, which made her wince apologetically. That made him smile. He had long gotten over it but she didn’t need to know that. Which is probably why, months after the incident, and she still seemed hung up on the accident.

“Anyways, when I got your name, I was pretty excited. I wanted to get you something extra in case that was still in the back of your mind.”

“So, you’re trying to bribe me?” he clarified.

“No, that sounds horrible. I’m just trying to be nice,” she said, pretending to be outraged. “But, hypothetically, if that were the case, I wonder if this would work.”

He looked at her doubtfully as he gingerly grabbed the bag. Dropping his cigarette, and stepping on it, he opened it and saw that inside was a red-orange leather jacket. He took it out, staring at it, loss of words.

“Do you hate it?” Lily asked anxiously, misinterpreting his silence as a bad sign.

“No,” he said loudly, startling Lily. “No, I... how did… this must have cost a lot.”

“So, you don’t hate it?”

“Not bad, Hathaway,” he said, nodding his approval.

She beamed, obviously pleased with herself. “I know right? I saw it and I knew this would be perfect for you. Try it on. I am positive it fits you, but I just need to double check.”

Roger sighed heavily. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” she said smacking his shoulder lightly. “Now try it on.”

He stood up from the ledge and made a huge show on putting on the jacket and modeling it for Lily. She stood up and smiled.

“Yes, this looks very nice,” she murmured, smoothing out creases on Rogers’ shoulder.

“Of course it looks nice, I’m wearing it.”

She made a face. “Always the modest one.”

He laughed but smiled at her genuinely. “I appreciate this gift, Lily. You didn't have to get it. I don't hate you,” he said seriously.

“Oh, I know you don't hate me, but I’ve learned that you do like to lean into the dramatics. Which is probably why you and Freddie get along so well. Honestly, I don’t know who’s the bigger hysterical queen, you or Freddie? My money's on the guy that throws things whenever he doesn’t get his way.”

“Because it's almost Christmas I’m going to chose to ignore that comment.”

“Bet you’re happy you got me as Secret Santa, right?”

And there it was, the smugness. But it didn’t matter what he thought, he didn’t get a chance to tell her. At that moment, someone called out Lily’s name. Both turned around to see a tall man, standing by the fence, waving at them.

“Matt? What are you doing here?” Lily asked in surprised but rushed over to him, jumping into his arms. Seeing that she didn’t scream at this stranger presence, he assumed that he was her boyfriend.

“I wanted to see you,” the boyfriend said. Roger had to hide his derisive cough when he heard an American accent. Lily’s American boyfriend explained her tendency to use American terms.

“You saw me today in the morning,” Lily reminded him but sounded pleased.

“Yeah, but that’s too long. And you said you came with John, I figured you needed a ride back.”

“Really? That’s why you’re here?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah, and also I wanted to convince you to come and join me with my parents.”

“Matt,” she started but he interrupted her.

“I know, I know you had plans for today but tomorrow you’re free.”

“I’m going to be with John.”

“In the afternoon,” he argued. “And my parents are...”

Roger decided to tune out their conversation, not interested in hearing the hardships of compromising and lit another cigarette.

“Alright,” he heard Lily said, making him look over them. “Let me just go inside to get my things and go say goodbye to everyone.”

She started to run off inside, when she stopped, looked over to Roger, who raised his hand as if to say he was still there.

“Shit, I am so rude,” she said and reached over to drag her boyfriend towards Roger, “but Matt, this is Roger, he’s in John's band. Roger, this is Matt, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” the American said, extending his hand. Roger shook it firmly and felt him tightened his grip.

“Pleasure,” he said shortly and let it go. Lily glanced between the two men, an unreadable expression on her face. When Roger caught her eye, she seemed to make up her mind.

“Be right back,” she said and sprinted back inside, leaving Roger and the boyfriend alone.

“Got another one?” the American asked, nodding to Rogers cigarette.

“Sorry, last one,” Roger said, shrugging.

“Ah, it's alright.” The American heaved a sighed and just when Roger thought they were going to sit in silence, he spoke up again. “What were you and Lily doing outside?” he asked curiously.

“Smoke break,” he said shortly, raising his cigarette.

“Oh, right.”

Roger was thankful that it didn’t take Lily too long to collect her things and say her goodbyes because he had no intention to make small talk with her American. She appeared a minute later, looking flushed and carried a handful of gifts. The American rushed to her side and took half of the baggage.

“I was wondering where did the hat go,” the American commented, the Santa hat back on Lily’s head. She shrugged and nudged him to the car. “Oh, Merry Christmas,” he called out to Roger.

“Yeah, you too,” Roger said.

“Happy Christmas, Roger,” Lily told him, stopping in front of him.

“Happy Christmas,” he said, and his eyes darted to Lily’s boyfriend, that was already putting her things in his car. “American, really?” he said in a low voice earning an annoyed look from her.

“Goodbye, Roger,” she said and went to join her boyfriend. He watched her get in the car and didn’t look away until the car was out of his sight. Roger looked down at the jacket and felt the material under his fingertips. It was a really nice gift, one that he did not expect getting from Lily. But he had come to realize, that with Lily, he never knew what to expect from her.

He should’ve known that was probably what started it all.

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy as roger taylor #ben hardy #roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody

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botanyshitposts · 6 years

Note

gene guns? 👀

ooooo boy okay so

the problem with gene editing in general isn’t the gene editing itself, but getting the gene into an organism in a way that it can modify the stuff inside of it. this is surprisingly difficult to do.

so in modern applications, we have stuff like CRISPR. CRISPR is essentially a modified viral structure. to back up even further here, viruses aren’t traditionally considered organisms so much as they’re considered molecular machines; a virus reproduces itself by injecting its own RNA (an offset of DNA that can be easily replicated by the cell) into a cell; this results in the cell integrating the invading RNA into the genome of the cell, where it then can be converted into proteins that make up more viruses. once the viruses become too numerous for the cell to handle, the cell literally explodes, and the viruses that burst out of the cell go to other cells and repeat the process.

now, CRISPR doesn’t work exactly like that. CRISPR is comprised of a virus, yes, but instead of infecting a host with a terrible virus that kills cells and things, CRISPR uses the starting machinery- the stuff that cuts and pastes- plus whatever gene you want, and instead of an infection just introduces the modified genes into the cell’s genome, where after a number of tries, the cell might decide to integrate it fully and begin expressing it. i’m not educated enough on the exact mechanisms of CRISPR to explain it in any further detail here, but know as a clarification that you couldn’t really ‘catch’ a CRISPR ‘virus’; technically what CRISPR is based off of is a bacteriophage, witch is a simple virus that specifically infects bacteria, not humans.

UPDATE/CORRECTION: ive been informed that CRISPR isn’t in fact a virus in and of itself, but rather a piece of genetic material isolated from the immune systems of bacteria, which preforms a variety of functions with RNA and DNA of the cell including, but not limited to, fighting viruses to an extent.

so imagine this: your friend is in a manhole on a construction site. the ladder in the manhole is broken, and to free themselves, they’ll need to fix it with your help. to do this, you will have to help them modify the ladder by replacing a broken rung, so you get some supplies in a bucket to lower down to them. it’s very dark in the manhole, and they can’t see what they’re supposed to cut, so you first put in the bucket 1. a glow in the dark map to show them where the broken rung is on the ladder. then, you put in 2. a special pair of scissors to cut the old rung out. finally, you put in 3. a new rung. your friend already has glue because they’re just like that. you lure the bucket in with a rope, and using the supplies in the bucket your friend replaces the broken parts. your friend is pretty smart; sometimes, there are multiple rungs that are broken with all different instructions, and your friend can replace them all!

the bucket, and the things in the bucket, represent CRISPR and what it does; the only thing we change are the instructions on what to cut and the rung to replace it. (this was a rambling analogy that is completely unnecessary to answer the gene gun question but i wanted to learn about it and repeating it like that here helps me learn the topic so yeah.)

i’ve never used it myself, but i’ve been told that in plant applications, CRISPR physically manifests as a weird jelly that you load up with whatever fun stuff you want (the actual gene editing has to be done via another process in advance) and rub on the plant, and the machinery takes it from there. it’s really cool technology.

now, here’s the thing. CRISPR is pretty new technology, too. it’s cheap, it’s effective, it’s very clean, and it doesn’t mess things up too much.

now, before we had nice rad slime to put on things that would change an organism’s genome for us, we had people in the corn business in the mid-80s who wanted to genetically modify corn faster. so they did the normal, sane thing to do, which is to just fucking shoot the cells. like. with cell-sized bullets, bc fuck those guys.

so a ‘gene gun’ works like this: you got ur metal box equipped with an airsoft-rifle-like discharge, in the sense that it discharges a high-pressure air blast. you got ur DNA that u want put in the cells. you got ur cells, in plant contexts in the form of weird lumps of cells that can just regenerate into a full plant the same way a weed could fully regenerate from a single root, because plants are just like that. finally, you got ur nanoparticles, usually of a heavy element like gold or tungsten.

you coat your heavy particles in the DNA in advance. u put them under the high-pressure air blast. under that, you put your poor plant cells that literally just want to live their lives. then, you turn on the gun, and it literally shoots the particles into the cells with the hope that at least one of the metal particles will just by chance happen to land inside the nucleus of a cell. like literally this is called ‘biolistics’. like ‘ballistics’ but it makes no fucking sense.

here’s an analogy: your friend is trapped in a manhole on a construction site. instead of lowering down a bucket of supplies to help them like a normal person, you just tape the new rung to the front of a gun and just fucking shoot at the old rung. ‘dude!’ cries ur friend, ‘dude, what the fuck man!’. you do not listen bc u do not care. this may not sound like it would properly insert the rung like, at all, and a lot of the time it doesn’t, but sometimes it does. more often it just makes ur friend upset and sometimes injures them. it’s a very ‘then perish’ approach to gene editing, but that’s literally how we did it before we had the magic that is CRISPR. if you would like to try this yourself, there are multiple videos on youtube that apparently instruct you on how to build your own, just like the Dupont Pioneer corn scientists that originally jerryrigged the very first one in a corn breeding center lab in the mid 80s! wow!

here’s a video of one firing. its a lot less climatic then i expected it to be (i’ve never seen one fired before in person); after a minute of the pressure building, the scientist flips a switch, and we see one of the protective coverings in the chamber just fucking break under the air pressure. i have no idea if its supposed to do that or not, but regardless i think its very symbolic of gene guns in general lmao. according to the description on the video, this is a test fire of tungsten particles coated with the DNA to make the successfully transformed cells glow. they’re firing at onion cells, which are commonly used in these test fires because they’re huge and make for bigger targets. they also note that if they’re lucky, about 1% of cells will end up actually glowing like they hope they will. thank god we have CRISPR now or we would never get anything done

youtube

#THIS IS SO LONG IM SO SORRY #asks #plont asks #CRISPR #lessons #queue #Anonymous

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belost-the-watcher · 5 years

Text

Infestation

An orange haze settled throughout the halls of the derelict ship. The airlock groaned and struggled against jammed machinery, finally giving up and sticking half-open. Muffled voices from behind swore and chattered to one another briefly before a metal bar slid through the gap and wrenched the airlock open with a loud grunt. Rust burst out from the seams and joints and a handful of galra stepped through.

Two of them wore heavy armor and were more equipment than person. Known commonly as Raiders. The third was much more lightly geared. A tracker on loan from the Empire's army. All wore gas masks strapped around their heads.

"Alright. Well that's the hard part done," the lead said flatly and stuck the bar to a magnetic mount on his backpack. "Your turn, Windor."

Belost squeezed his way passed the armored giants. The hallways were tight and the two raiders could barely stand side by side without scraping the dust from the walls. He took the lead and knelt to the floor, swiping a finger across the paneling. "Rust. Dust. Motes. We'll probably start seeing eggs soon. Either this ship is smaller on the inside or its more infested than we thought," he forced his words out to be heard through his mask.

"So there's a few more crawlers. So?" A voice from the back spoke up, shotgun strung across his shoulders. The name Noht scratched into his armor.

"So it means there's hardly any ship left that's worth salvaging."

Their commander spoke up again, "We're not here for the ship. Command's looking for a manifest from the ship's old captain. Records for who he sold to and more importantly where he got his supplies from." He hefted a large metal cylinder in one hand, "This is just to make our job shorter. Gas the place, get out, let the tech support come in and do the rest."

Belost stood. With as small as the hallways were, it was still mind boggling how a smuggler could afford a ship this size. It was nothing compared to the Empire's fleet ships, but it was still nearly the size of a light carrier. And those didn't come cheap even to the Navy.

The tracker started off and their commander, Stros, waved on the back to follow along.

____________

"I meant to ask, why not send the entire squad in? Instead of just you two," Belost asked over his shoulder as they moved through. Breaking the silence of his own footsteps was hardly an issue with the clunking raiders behind him.

"With as narrow as these hallways are, what'd be the point?" Noht said from the back.

"I guess so," Belost answered. He was no stranger to being outnumbered and raiders were originally trained as boarding parties. But infestations made him uneasy. Especially on ships where there was usually only one way out. It was new territory for him, he'd only been through one infestation before. But apparently that made him enough of an expert to be brought along. He'd have to remember to thank Sendak later.

Belost slowed to a stop after a few minutes when he noticed rocky looking scales fused to the wall. They resembled the shells some seafood was still served in. He took the lip of one between two fingers and gave it a light twist. The hard tip snapped off then crumbled between his fingers.

"These things are dried out. A lot of matured crawlers. Let's hope the nest is far away from the circulation room. They'll be in hybernation, assuming there wasn't a few years' worth of food on board, but I doubt even they'd be able to sleep through two tanks walking passed them."

"We'll play it by ear, then," Stros replied.

____________

The three walked in relative silence for a few mintues, Belost checking the occasional biological sign along the way. Stros kept an eye on what crude blueprints they could manage for the ship and mapped out their path on his datapad. Noht, who towered over Belost, watched the hallways and junctions over the tracker's head, shotgun ready. A heavy belt ran from his weapon and to a large cannister on his back. An iconic weapon of the raiders.

"So what's up with all the rust?" Noht asked. "This ship was still active two years ago. It can't have gotten into this bad of shape on its own."

"The eggs eat through the coating on the metal and leech chemicals from it. It makes the eggs strong but the metal brittle. Oxidizes it given enough time and enough eggs. Coincidentally, the shit it puts in the air too? Really bad for your lungs," Belost answered. Despite hardly being an expert, he did at least read up on the creatures inside the ship before deployment. "It's why these things are prohibited from transport. They'll wreck a ship in just a few months. Sometimes not even that long. Then you end up with floating hives like this, they get pulled into orbit, some eggs make it out planetside and then it's Tharaon IV all over again. No more machinery, a lot of dead people and pretty much no more planet."

"Banning these things from transport didn't really stop them from making it here, did it?"

"Idiots will smuggle anything as long as the money's good enough," Stros commented.

"But if there's this many eggs, how haven't we seen any yet?" Noht asked.

"They're hybernating. Chances are that if we see one, we'll see all of them. And there's not actually one for every egg. They hatch in a swarm, but these things get cannibalistic when they're in a low food environment. At least up until a certain point. They won't eat another crawler the same size as them, just the smaller ones. Then when they run out of food they stop breeding and hybernate for a while. It's good for us since all of them are probably asleep. But if they wake up..."

Noht began to ask a follow up before Stros cut him off, "Ventilation should be this next turn up ahead. Get ready." He holstered his datapad and drew his submachine gun from a sling on his chest.

Belost saw the hallway diverge into a turn.

____________

"Fuck!" Belost could have spit were it not for the mask. Stros stopped arming the bomb and looked to him.

"What do you see?" Noht asked, hands laced together and holding Belost's boot steady.

"The intake is loaded with eggs and the fan's been rusted through," he said as he dropped back down to the floor.

"A ship like this won't have a secondary ventilation room, either," Stros said mostly to himself.

"So what's there to do now?" Noht asked, shaking his hands out where the treads had dug into his fingers.

"If we can't gas the place out then we'll just need to get the manifest ourselves. My first guess would be to look in the captain's quarters. I doubt he would keep it stored in the ship's intranet."

Belost pat the orange dust from his hands, "Great. Do we know where that is?"

"Not too far. We'll need to backtrack a bit and head in the opposite direction of here."

"Opposite direction, huh? We haven't seen a crawler yet and now we need to go in the opposite direction? You know what that probably means, right?"

Stros hoisted the bomb back into his hand. "That's why I'm keeping this on me."

____________

Heavy breathing surrounded Belost on all sides. If the manifest was not in the Captain's Quarters, he was going to kill Stros himself. 'Like you said, we would just wake them up,' their charismatic leader had told him right before suggesting Belost walk into the veritable horde of sleeping crawlers alone. Even Noht looked uncertain about the plan. Maybe the raider simply disliked having to stay back and let somebody else do all the work. Or maybe sending somebody into a nest of sleeping monsters just did not sit well with him.

The tracker twisted his ankle awkwardly to avoid stepping on a bundle of dark spines sticking from one crawler's back. The creatures themselves looked like what Earth dwellers might know as tailess whip scorpions. Something that had no business being the size of a cow. Their legs were spindly and barbed with thick claws anchored in front of clacking maws.

One infestation had been plenty for Belost. And his experience then had been unfortunately similar to his current. But at least then he had been on a planet. Somewhere with any number of places to run or hide.

A thick limb brushed the back of his calf and he spun, hand already half-drawing The Bell before he found the creature to have only twitched in its sleep.

Some were piled on top of one another, their legs curled up to fit in the tight hallways. Belost could not be sure but he would bet there were some even in the ship's ventilation above him. Who knew where else they could squeeze into?

He came to the door he was looking for, one labeled CQ in bold. He pressed the button beside it which lit up. The mechanism of the door ground audibly, making a wide-eyed Belost check all around him for signs of stirring, and the light faded offline. A one way mirror was beside the door. If only he could have looked through it somehow, see if there was anything even worthwhile inside. He sucked in a deep breath through the filter of his mask and gripped the handle of the door. The galra flexed and pushed, trying to slide it into the wall panel as quietly as he could. Eventually there came a thud and the door slide aside.

More of the orange dust, a mixture of rust and molting residue, flowed out from the now open doorway. Chunks of one of the crawlers lay strewn about the room and the shredded belongings of the captain's quarters were among them. Belost lift a datapad from the ground, the display cracked and sprayed with old blood. It was crushed beyond salvaging, but maybe the datachip inside was still good.

He checked the port, it was empty.

Belost set the datapad down and walked to the terminal on top of the captain's work bench. He stepped around and checked the console. Somehow it was still running. He wiped the orange dust from its display and looked through the system. Eventually, he came across a series of files which detailed various transfers. Names, dates, amounts, product. Everything they needed. And no way to transfer it. Of course. Why would a smuggler want to let anybody get a copy of something like this?

Belost looked around. No ports for datachips or linking devices. Just a display and the casing beside it. The data drive had to be in it. He looked to the terminal and powered it down.

Then silence was shattered by a cheery sounding chime blaring from the terminal's speakers.

This time there was no need to check. Belost heard them stirring immediately. He dug his claws into the tower of the terminal and ripped the brittle side panel off. The fans had just stopped spinning by the time he yanked the data drive from its port.

Heavy footfalls scuttled to the doorway and a crawler stood near eye-level, watching him for only a moment, chattering wildly and scuttered inside. He heard others outside, a domino effect of waking. Belost shuffled around the table, fingers clinging tight to the drive while the other drew The Bell. He pointed it at the crawler that scurted over the table, then to the second that had already taken its place in the doorway, and then to the window.

What few weren't awake already were jostled out of sleep by the gunfire.

Belost leaped through the window and fired another shot into the gathering crowd of clicking and chirping creatures. The explosive payload of The Bell shattered one into chunks of gorey shell. The clicking turned to hissing.

He ran through the halls, retracing his careful steps, firing into whatever crowds might block his way, not daring to look behind him. The distant sound of Noht's shotgun pounded rhythmically. Even in his outright panick, Belost noticed the lack of Stros' weapon in the commotion.

He fired again, scattering a crowd only briefly, but just enough for him to make it through. Dull fire rushed up his thigh. A familiar enough pain to know something somewhere had got a claw half-around his leg at some point.

Belost came across another blocked hallway and rose The Bell. Instead of the crack and kick of recoil, however, it was only a click. He tucked the data drive under his arm and broke the weapon open, an empty cylinder ejecting with its distinct ping. A crawler scuttled towards him and he could feel more near his back.

Then the ones before him exploded in a shower of shot. Noht covered in blackened gore rounded the corner, "Get down!"

Belost dropped, hearing the whoosh of a claw just overhead, and then suddenly the world around him vanished beyond the rumbling explosive roar of the raider's shotgun.

Something heavy rammed into the ground beside Belost and he was enveloped in grey smoke. It stung his eyes and he scrambled forward in the lull of gunfire and a hand grabbed his arm and hoisted him behind Noht. Practice took over and once he stood, Belost reloaded The Bell and took the drive in his hand once again.

Stros was pulling him back through the hallways, Noht following closely behind. Belost noticed the bomb missing from the commander.

____________

The floor shook beneath Belost's feet, his bandaged thigh pulsing painfully. The ship lit up in a bright, purple ball of plasma as it took the entire flagship's broadside. He let himself enjoy what he could. It was going to be an hour or two in quarantine after all that.

Stros was fast tracked through, the data drive's delivery too important to keep waiting for longer than necessary.

Noht and Belost, however, would have to wait for the full package. He just hoped they wouldn't burn his clothes.

#drabble #there #no more sad belost #read more for length

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paladin-andric · 5 years

Text

An Even Game

Hey, everyone! After finishing Blackheart I had a few ideas for some shorts, so I think I’ll be posting some! This one’s about a bunch of mercenaries taking some time off to play some rather elaborate games...

Sofia’s entrance into the company hall was far from silent, but with the boisterous shouts coming from the table, it might as well have been.

None of the group of five could hear her coming as they laughed and complained, the sound of rolling dice and shuffling paper being heard.

“It’s nonsense is what it is!”

“You’re just mad you’re losing!”

“Hey, I’m only losing ‘cause you stacked the game, you rat!”

The woman was a member of the Drakebloods, a mercenary company that had been successful enough to found their own hall. While small, as the company was, it was a pretty massive achievement for them.

It appeared several of the members were using their downtime to play games at the hall, all of them crowded around the round, wooden table and sat in cheap wooden chairs.

Sofia, a soldier within the company, chucked her things onto an empty table as she made her way to the end of game room. Ahead of her they sat, a massive map, a mess of cards and papers, and dice and miniature figurines taking up the entirety of the table.

“Hey boys,” she said casually, most of them turning to look at her.

“Oh, hey Sofia!” David answered, a notable chipperness in his voice.

David was one of three humans at the table, the others being Michael and Emanuel. The fourth member of the group was a koutu, one Sofia knew very well as Con. Though his true name was Conchobhar, enough of the company called him by the simpler nickname that he was now known by both.

The final man at the table was a saalik, one of the lizards from the desert kingdom across the seas. He was Bahim, one of the largest and most intimidating warriors in the whole company. His great size, plainly apparent strength, and frightening reptilian visage did little to show his true nature.

Emanuel smiled at her. “Hey, wanna join? We’re short a player!”

“Pona Federation’s still not taken,” Michael added, sounding a touch irritated.

“Uhh, actually I’d just like to watch, thanks,” Sofia answered, hands on her hips.

“Come on!” David said, trying to egg her on.

“We’d love if you joined us!” Conchobhar said cheerfully, clutching onto a slip of paper.

“Really, thanks but I don’t want to. I don’t even know what you’re playing.”

“We could teach you,” David said softly, a playful grin on his face.

“That’d take ages.” Michael’s voice was low and carried frustration in it. “This game’s already an hour in and we’ve barely done anything. Can we get a move on?”

“Hey...if she doesn’t want to play, we shouldn’t make her,” Bahim’s voice was quiet and meek, as it usually was. Quite a mismatch for the brutish-looking warrior.

“Tsk, whatever,” David said with a roll of his eyes, “If you say so…”

Sofia pulled a chair from another table and joined them, leaning over the massive map and piles of papers. “What in the world is this game, anyway? What needs THIS much work to play?”

“Deacan Kings!” Conchobhar said excitedly.

“Deacan Kings…?”

“You mean to tell me you’ve never played it?” Emmanuel asked, his tanned face staring at her in confusion.

She shook her head. “Never heard of it.”

“Wow…I thought everyone in the whole damn company played this at least once,” David mused.

“Not me. What IS it, anyway?”

“Deacan Kings is like playing history!” Conchobhar cried. “Err...well, like playing how history could have been, anyway. You pick a nation and try to manage your kingdom, and build up the administration, deal with court intrigue, and conduct politics with other plays, forge alliances, scheme, and try to conquer all of Deaco! It’s wonderful!”

Sofia crossed her arms and frowned. “Manage politics and administration? Sounds complicated.”

“Oh, it is!” Bahim said, a sort of shy happiness dancing on his face. “B-but it’s really fun! Once you learn everything, there’s just so much you can do! There’s so many different paths for you to take your nation! There’s dozens of laws you can change your stance on, and nation get their own bonuses, and your ruler gets personality traits that change things and limit what you can do, and how the game goes…” The large lizard stared off into the distance, lost in his joyful recollection of the rules like a child telling his parents about his favorite play.

“Hey, speaking of ruler traits…” David tapped the map. “Turn 20. Time for everyone to get one.”

The group all grabbed for a stack of notes in the corner, each taking one off the top one by one. As they looked at what trait their ruler now had, varying reactions came from all over the table.

“Oooh, I got workhorse!” Conchobhar said excitedly, “Yes!”

“Ah, whatever,” Michael said angrily, tossing his card to the table.

“What, what'd ya get?” David asked.

“Soft-hearted.”

“Hey, that’s not bad at all!” Conchobhar said, “That’s amazing for the endgame!”

“Yeah...for when you have a massive empire,” the irritated human said, “I’ve got two regions, man. TWO. All cause David’s mad that I’m better than him.”

“Aww, what are you talking about? I thought you were GOOD at this game!” David laughed mockingly.

“Literally no one plays the kobold tribes, you ass. They get annexed by turn three, tops.”

“Michael’s the best Deacan Kings player, basically ever,” Conchobhar explained to Sofia in a low whisper, “Whoops everyone here every time we play. David complained so now he’s handicapped.”

The woman nodded, now understanding why Michael seemed so annoyed. He was too good to play with, so they had given him a nation so outgunned it would be hopeless to win in most other players’ hands.

“Oh, and soft-hearted boosts happiness and lowers unrest in every region,” the birdman added, “Pretty amazing when you’ve got dozens of places to keep under control.”

The woman nodded, becoming more interested in the game. “I see…God, this is complicated. Interesting, though...”

“And yet here you are at turn 20. I don’t see what you’re complaining about…” David was grinning like mad.

“Cause you’re BAD,” Michael said, flashing a grin of his own, “Five thousand tribal warriors, and you just can’t stamp me out.”

“Tsk. You got lucky!”

“Nope. Learn about terrain and maybe your massive army could beat a couple of kobolds with sticks,” he shot back.

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” David shouted, “Just wait til ya-”

The man’s eyes went wide as he stared down at his card, his mouth freezing in place.

“Oooh, I think he got something good,” Emmanuel said, looking over at the other man.

“What? What did you get?” Conchobhar asked, trying to peek over his card.

“...GENIUS!” David announced triumphantly, “King Bohem is now a genius!”

“Horseshit,” Michael grumbled. The others all chattered in excitement as he tapped the table, deep in thought.

“That’s a good trait, I’m guessing.” Sofia said, the others turning to look at her.

“Are you kidding?! It’s the best trait in the whole game!” David answered, still ecstatic.

“It lowers civil unrest, boosts tax and trade revenue, increases your military command, gives a nationwide boost to prosperity, and makes you able to change laws three times as fast!” Conchobar explained giddily.

“I haven’t seen anyone get genius in a long time,” Emmanuel said quietly, “Speaking of which...I’ve got agriculturalist now.”

“Aww, come on!” Michael complained, “Did EVERYONE but me get a good trait?!”

“Soft-hearted’s a good trait, just-”

“Just not for the current situation, yeah yeah yeah,” the increasingly frustrated man cut Conchobhar off, “I know.”

“A true ruler serves the people,” the koutu said with a sly grin.

“Chieftain Stonebark giving his slaves hugs doesn’t really matter when they’re all about to die, does it?” Michael said with a roll of his eyes.

“...ah.” Bahim’s eyes rose from his card, a sullen expression on his muzzle. “Err...cheer up, Michael. Stonebark’s got it better than the Sultan.”

“Oh dear. Get one of the negative traits?” the man replied.

“Ahaha...you know how David got the best trait in the game?” the large lizard smiled sheepishly. “Err...Sultan Venhim is now...insane.”

There was a brief pause, the entire room bathed in oppressive silence for a moment...before everyone erupted into laughter.

Sofia watched them all lose it, confused by their reactions.

“O-oh, God!” David slapped his thigh. “Oh, WOW!”

“Rest in peace, Abinsil,” Emmanuel said, trying not to laugh.

“Oh dear...that just leaves the kobold tribes as allies to the Koutu Kingdom,” Conchobhar said with a notable amount of worry.

“Tsk...sounds like I might need to sail down there and take a few regions, Bahim,” Emmanuel said.

“W-what?! Aww, come on!”

“Hey, my back’s been against the wall this whole game! I’ve gotta do what I’ve gotta do,” the human answered back.

Michael’s anger seemed to have evaporated. “Huh. I guess things really could be worse…”

“Uhh...why are you all talking like he’s just out of the game?” Sofia asked, “Is it really that bad?”

“Yes, and he basically is,” Conchobhar answered.

“Insane makes you roll the dice at the start of every one of your turns,” Michael explained, “If you roll lower than 20, every one of your actions, changing laws, moving troops, diplomacy and troop movements...is decided randomly by rolling to see what happens.”

“Insane rulers basically flail about doing nothing until their entire nation is wiped out, since they can’t even move their troops to defend or attack anything,” Emmanuel added.

“That sounds...really, really dumb and unfair,” Sofia said, rubbing her chin.

“Yeah, but it makes civil unrest skyrocket too.” Conchobhar flashed a scrap of paper with lists of names and traits. “If they survive long enough there should be a civil war, and since the player usually can’t respond in any way they’re beaten and overthrown quickly...not that anyone should TRY to keep an insane king in power! Once they roll for their new monarch they can start playing again.”

“Ugh...PLEASE don’t invade me,” Bahim whined, “I don’t wanna get kicked out now!”

“I don’t know…” David gave the lizard a predatory grin. “You’ve been developing your regions SO well. They’re so rich…”

“Aww, come on! Don’t! Pleeeaaase?”

“Hmm...I’ll send you a marriage proposal!” Conchobhar announced, “Then we can form an alliance and I’ll take the heat off of you!”

“R-really?! Wow, thanks!”

“Don’t thank him yet, your loony king still has to roll to accept,” Michael noted.

“I’ll just keep trying til we succeed!” the koutu said happily, “Then I can deploy in your regions!”

“Hey, now everyone’s in a coalition against me!” David cried, “No fair!”

“Hey, you’re the one who picked the overpowered nation,” Michael said with a grin, “It’s only natural.”

“Bah! I’ll just deploy dragons against you all!”

“Once my capital gets to the next prosperity level I can summon dragons too,” Michael said, “You’d better watch out…”

“Argh! I won’t let you live that long! I’m attacking you!”

Michael shifted miniatures as David did the same, the two of them moving their “soldiers” into lines across their borders.

“Better hope that this doesn’t end up like the last assault…” the kobold player said with a grin.

“Whatever!” is all David, the Geralthin player managed in response, grabbing a sheet of paper. “Pah...forty to one, you see that?! You’re hopelessly outnumbered.”

“Than it’s an even game.”

Sofia leaned back as she watched them all go, everyone shouting encouragements and playful insults as the two players prepared for battle.

Perhaps I should learn how to play, too…

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner, @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @disheveledcorvid-deactivated201, @reya-writes, @bexminx

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cienie-isengardu · 6 years

Text

Satine and Pre: Personal Ships

Previous parts: political & social position < • > Wealth: clothes < • > paintings seen in their residences < • > living conditions < • >

This time I’m gonna talk about two very different ships - Satine’s Coronet (Luxury spaceliner):

and Pre’s Gauntlet (Kom’rk Class Fighter/Transporter)

Starting from the beginning, building ships & vehicles seems to be thriving industry of Mandalore System, what I assume is one of main income for New Mandalorian society.

Coronet itself is an interesting ship, not only due to its wealth, but also its role. Let’s look what The Clone Wars: Incredible Vehicles (TCW:IV) tells about Satine’s luxury ship.

Coronet is one-of-a-kind model built by Kalevala Spaceworks - once again, Satine’s personal wealth / position is backed up by her native planet.

It’s hard to tell who really invented (initiated) building such expansive ship (Mandalore’s ruler herself? Kalevala Spaceworks, as a gift for new duchess? Someone’s else?) but luxury alone wasn’t the reason for such project. Coronet is a showcase for Mandalorian engineering AND proof that New Mandalorians left their violent past behind (about that more information soon). Thus the ship is a tool of Satine’s ideology / propaganda. And is used in her political work:

What was also pointed out in TCW: New Battlefronts:

Beside the role in Satine’s politics, Coronet also serves as luxury starcruiser, carrying out different types of travelers (from the richer officials & tourists to the ones seeking cheap passage) and goods during its travel between Mandalore System/Sektor to Core Worlds, like Coruscant.

The quality and size of the rooms varied depending on the wealth of traveler. From the layout of the ship and TCW animated series we know that on Coronet, Satine has Royal Suites and Throne Room

that for sure look much richer, more colorful than the cheaper rooms like the one shared by Anakin and Obi-Wan (who as Jedi, refused to take room for VIPs)

Satine can’t complain about lack of luxury during her travel. To be fair, the whole interior of the ship intended for passengers looks beautiful, with rich details that are made of the best things from all Mandalorian worlds:

The luxury for all passengers has its hidden meaning as well. The Coroner is a tool for political meetings no less as a tool to popularize the pacifist New Mandalorians as a better culture, detached from the predecessors' crimes. The trips of Coroner are as much about transport and trade as they are about changing people’s mind about Mandalore System/Sector and giving them a chance to see Mandalorian worlds - and its beauty & wealth - for themselves.

Here comes an intrigue part - the ship is presented in sources as luxury vessel that belongs to Duchess of Mandalore. There is little information how planning Coronet’s trips worked and how often those happened or how those were related to Satine’s political activity. I mean, the ship is a private property of the ruler, yet it is used for good of common people (both native of Mandalore System/Sektor and outsiders). I’m not sure if during Clone Wars era we heard about other royal vessel used like that. BUT!

Luxury travel alone can’t pay the operating expenses of a liner the size of the Coronet. The great ship’s lower decks are mostly for cargo [...].

I’m seriously intrigued WHO GET THE IDEA OF MAKING SUCH LUXURY SHIP THAT IS SO EXPENSIVE TO MAINTAIN? To the point that not even selling tickets for travel from Core Worlds to Mandalore System/Sektor is enough and the vessel must be used as container ship at the same times?

Like, I get that this is practical thing to do, to combine useful with pleasure and all, but I kinda get the feeling the Kalevala Spaceworks and/or Duchess or whoever came up with the idea may not think it over really. Coronet is supposed to be a showcase for Mandalorian engineering and new face of Mandalorian culture under pacifist ruler. Sharing vessel with common people by duchess was intended from the start or did it became a necessity when cost of maintaining turned out to be too expensive? Also, who paid for the production of ship and who is paying now for its maintaining? How much (if even) it burdens the state budget or Satine’s own wealth? Could the cost be reason why Coronet is one-of-a-kind model? Was it so unprofitable to produce more or didn’t Kaleva Spaceworks want to undermine the ruler's prestige?

On one hand, the Coronet belongs to Duchess, and plays political role in Satine’s attempts to gain allies, at least during Clone Wars. On another It also carry different types of travelers and goods (transport and trade) and plays a role in propagation the more friendly image of Mandalorian people in the Core Worlds.

Frankly, the last part may be one of reason why Pre despise so much Satine’s rule and thinks she “tarnishes” the name of Mandalorian by making Mandalore the “cheap entertainment” for boredom people of Core Worlds.

In contrast, the Gauntlet and similar Kom’rk Class Fighters/Transporters used by Death Watch, according to TCW: IV were build in secret by rogue elements within MandalMotors:

Those ships, including Pre’s own, were made for fight and transport, what means the main focus was the practicality, not luxury. Kom’rk Fighters were relative small but maneuverability and could carry around 28 people (4 crewmembers + 24 armored Death Watch troopers). Pre’s own ship didn’t stand out from other crafts.

We may only wonder how the rogue elements within MandalMotors managed to make at least three Kom’rk Fighters with armament in secret and who paid for those. Most likely Pre’s high social & political status helped with that, but as a spy working undercover he couldn’t do everything alone, right?

Like I said before, there is not much information who get the idea to made such luxury spaceship like Coroner thus I don’t cross out the chance that Coronet may be a “gift” from Kalevala (or Kalevala Spaceworks) for the new ruler. What could make an interesting parallel to Pre’s Gauntlet & Kom’rk Fighters, who also happens to be a gift from Death Watch’s supporters working in secret.

The Gauntlet (and other two Kom’rk Fighters) were important part of Death Watch’s daily life. Used as transport, air cover and part of camps, it served all warriors the same. We don’t have much informations how much maintaining Gauntlet alone costed, but at the same time, the show alone did not mention that Death Watch have problems with that. And fuel, machine maintenance or repair for sure cost something and Pre was most likely cut off from his potential bank accounts.

Despite the differences, both ships were a tools in Pre and Satine’s private crusades - against New Mandalorians or against violence and brutal past.

The names of ships alone speak a lot about their owners too. Coronet is a term for small or relatively simple crown, especially as worn by lesser royalty. The title of Duchess is related to aristocracy yet in terms of royalty, Duchess is lesser to status of Queen. Coronet then may have double meaning, on one hand the wealth of ship speaks for Satine’s own prestige & social status, on another the special ship is the best example of Kalevala’s technology achievement - a way to “crown” the pacifist (better) culture of New Mandalorian

In contrast, Gauntlet is related to fight. According to dictionary, the world alone represents part of armor (“a glove worn with medieval armor to protect the hand”) or an open challenge (as to combat, when used in phrases like “throw down the gauntlet”) or a severe trial (ordeal). All three fit Pre’s characterization & role in story, from wearing armor & respecting old ways to challenging Satine’s pacifist rule and actually going through trial(s) from season 2 (surviving failure(s), fighting with Maul for control over Mandalore/DW).

There is also once again the symbolism of light and darkness. Coronet is all about luxury and beauty (good / light), built as offical vessel, while Gauntlet was made in secret (in the “darkness”) and used for fight (war).

#star wars #pre vizsla #satine kryze #satine and pre #my analysis #my meta #mandalorian culture #mandalorians #she is from death watch #Next part is gonna be most likely about guards and servants #then the last info about their respective wealth #and i can finally get to the less material aspects of their characters

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amaloaf · 7 years

Note

All of them

3 Fears3 things I love2 turns on2 turns offMy best friendSexual orientationHow tall am IWhat do I miss right nowFavourite colorDo I have a crush ^ already answered these

Favourite place

my room of the senior lounge in my school

What am I listening to right now

a davenchurch playlist (current song: Something I Need- One Republic)

Shoe size

9-10 womens

Eye color

brown and gold

Hair color

ALSO brownish-gold

Meaning behind my URL

haha Fenton called me a walking paradox as a joke and it stuck!

Favourite song

literally dont have one but im currently loving “Waving Through a Window” from the dear evan hanson soundtrack

Favourite band

either panic! at the disco or fall out boy

How I feel right now

absolutely awful but you sending this completely boosted my mood!!

Someone I love

oh sweet jesus, Fenton and Ellie and Pear and Cade and Vinny and Dylan and Sydney and Daffy and Simon and Nico and Jayme and Kiwi and Arily and this is going overboard but i cannot hold all my love in

My current relationship status

painfully single and desperately needing to get laid

My relationship with my parents

Favourite season

fall

Tattoos and piercing i have

none, unfortunately

Tattoos and piercing i want

a septum piercing, 1mm gauges, a second piercing, an outer ear ring, sleeve tats of intertwining roses and dandelions, magnus’ railsplitter somewhere (im still deciding on where..)

The reasons I joined Tumblr

all my middle school friends had it

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

not anymore

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

i kissed my dad before

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

cosmetically? five minutes max

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days?

unfortunately i did yesterday

Where am I right now?

at my desk, sitting on pile of laundry im neglecting

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

i like it quiet

Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

both, but unhappily

Am I excited for anything?

death, also graduation i guess

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

my friends Cade and Dylan are good buddies

How often do I wear a fake smile?

….. next question

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

the mcelroys, specifically travis

What do I think about most?

not to be dark but death

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

neither, but behind if i have to be

What was the last lie I told?

“no mom i totally bought this”

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

i dont do either v much but i really like vids when i can get them

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

yes and yes (i saw three ghosts in my life)

Do I believe in magic?

hell yeah

Do I believe in luck?

mostly

What’s the weather like right now?

clear night skies with a slight fall nip in the air

What was the last book I’ve read?

animal farm by george orwell

Do I have any nicknames?

M.K., M, Loaf

Do I spend money or save it?

both?

Can I touch my nose with a tounge?

nope!

Favourite animal?

hgnnnnn cant choose, maybe sharks?

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

sleeping

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Hips Dont Lie!

What is my favorite word?

bludgeoning because im a nerd

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

CUT THE CRAP AND LEARN TO LIVE TOGETHER IN PEACE GOD DAMN IT

Do I have any relatives in jail?

i deadass dont talk to my family but im p sure one of my cousins was arrested last week

What is my current desktop picture?

that picture of the sloth photoshopped on a dolphin with the P!NK lyrics

Had sex?

Bought condoms?

Gotten pregnant?

oh god no

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

no but my first kiss with a boy i got sprayed on at a waterpark

Had job?

im a partime paralegal

Smoked weed?

yep

Smoked cigarettes?

for a long ass time in middle school (if im bein real honest im going to pic it back up again probably)

Drank alcohol?

Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

definetly not

Been overweight?

currently am

Been underweight?

when i was born

Gotten my heart broken?

plenty of times

Been to prom?

yes

Been in airplane?

oh yeah, i love flying

Learned another language?

took spanish for 10+ years and dont know a damned word of it

Wore make up?

Dyed my hair?

no but i really want to

Had a surgery?

yes! some work on my ear after i fucked it up as a baby

Met someone famous?

a band called After Romeo

Stalked someone on a social network?

i tend to go through social media when i find new accounts i like but its never stalkerish

Been fishing?

got the license and everything

Been rejected by a crush?

yea, ive only ever had one crush where it panned out

What do I want for birthday?

a binder

Do I like my handwriting?

Where do I want to live when older?

idk, im praying i dont end up back in vegas

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

got caught reading awful porn once does that count

What I’m really bad at

ohh im really holding back on saying “everything” but if i had to choose wind instruments

What my greatest achievments are

my art, my relationships, my baby handling skills

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

ill give you the second worse: “ well at least being a fattass made you bouncy”

What I’d do if I won in a lottery

buy a house, get a super crazy nice computer, give some money to the friends listed up earlier on the list and draw for all eternity

What do I like about myself

my eyes and my good heart and my ability to fake good things

My closest Tumblr friend

oh definitely Fenton or @whyldkratts

Any question you’d like?

feel free to send in your own question!

Are you outgoing or shy?

yes

What kind of people are you attracted to?

soft bellies, thick legs and hips, nice pecs, soft long hair, nice lips

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

idk maybe? i hope so, yall can feel free to make the first move ;3

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

no, i actually like it!

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

my buddy Cade

What does the most recent text that you sent say?

What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Something I Need, Michel in the Bathroom, For Forever, Waving Through a Window, and Freeze Your Brain

Do you like it when people play with your hair?

oh yes!! please play with my hair!!! ((and playing with OTHER peoples hair??? oh boy howdy dont even get me started!!!!))

Do you think there is life on other planets?

hell yes!

Do you like bubble baths?

sure, no real pref either way

Do you like your neighbors?

NOPE

Where would you like to travel?

yes!

Favorite part of your daily routine?

sleep

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

*sweats* yes?? (probably my boobs and stomach, also my arms)

What do you do when you wake up?

stare at the ceiling and mentally prepare myself for the day

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

darker, it lost a lot of melinin when i hit puberty for some reason??

Do you ever want to get married?

yes! even if its just a platonic life partner marriage!

If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

yep

Would you rather live without TV or music?

telivision my man

Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

yep! one time it went to shit the other time it went fairly ok

What are your favorite stores to shop in?

target and hot topic

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

normally yes but you gotta kno when to get the hell away from certain folks

Do you smile at strangers?

sometimes

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

OH yeaaah

Ever wished you were someone else?

every god damned day

Favourite makeup brand?

cheap

Last thing you ate?

mashed potatoes

Ever won a competition? For what?

won a college science fair in middle school once

Ever been in love?

im always in love

Facebook or Twitter?

twitter always (pst mines @emiglody95

Twitter or Tumblr?

tumblr

Are you watching tv right now?

What colour are your towels?

beige and brown

Favourite ice cream flavour?

cookie dough or coffee

First person you talked to today?

my mother or Ellie i can remember

Last person you talked to today?

Pear or my day, again i cant remember

Name a person you hate?

Prestly, Kevin, Zoe, Mike

Name a person you love?

hmm ive already listed a lot of people already so lets go with: Wilson

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

remember Kevin from two asks ago?

Do you tan a lot?

im outside a lot but my tan is mostly natural

Have any pets?

my dog, Gus!

Do you type fast?

yes actually!!

Do you regret anything from your past?

im not lookin to type a paragraph so lets go with yes

Ever broken someone’s heart?

yeah,,

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

every day

Is cheating ever okay?

no, but if your partner got seriously fucked up and it was a total accident and you trust them then MAYBE you can reconsider not throwing their asses out

Do you believe in true love?

to an extent

What your zodiac sign?

leo!

Do you believe in ghosts?

id better ive seen three of ‘em

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“ Its fine”, she said primly as she turned back to the trays of jewelry.

#answered for me #hell yea love gettin these things

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jencameron-scotland · 5 years

Text

Introduction

Welcome to my test review of the Haida round “drop-in” Circular Polariser and Neutral Density 1.8 (6 stop) combination filter and Haida Red-diamond soft graduated neutral density 1.2 (4 stops).

If you enjoy landscape photography I cannot stress the importance of investing in a good quality set of filters. Im well aware of what it feels like having a restrictive budget and fears of making the wrong decisions buying new gear. This is where I hope I can help by providing my hand on heart honest opinion. Haida are not the cheapest filters on the market but by no means the most expensive for the optical quality achieved, you really do get a lot of bang for your buck! We all strive to buy the best lenses so why scrimp on a cheap filter and ruin optical quality, it makes no sense to me.

Haida M10 round “drop-in” CPL+ND 1.8 (6 stop)

When Haida offered me the opportunity to test their M10 combination-filter with built in light barrier I was intrigued to say the least, questioning myself what the downfalls if any would be. Whilst stacking filters can work and something I do regular, however this practice is not optimal for a couple of reasons;

Forcing light to traverse through more elements, therefore more likely to get slightly refracted, possibly resulting in softness or even chromatic aberration.

Increased risk of light flares.

The more I thought about it the more I couldn’t wait. Initially I planned waterfalls for this particular test. Although I could see it being very useful after a midday rainstorm which happens a lot here in Scotland when the sun bursts out it’s great to slow down the exposure a wee bit and allow the filter to do the work. Rainfall hasn’t been great the past few days so I headed to the beach at sunrise instead.

Inserting the filter into the Haida M10 filter holder is incredibly fast, it simply drops between the holder and lens creating a perfect seal from any stray light. Oftentimes in the past I’ve struggled with the issue of light leakage and had to resort to putting hats or cloths over the gap between filter and lens, not an ideal situation unlike any of the Haida M10 round “drop-in” filters such as this combi filter which have a built in light-barrier.

Inserting filter into the rear of M10 filter holder

This is a ND 1.8 filter meaning it will lose six stops of light. But don’t forget it has the added CPL which generally loose between 1-2 stops of light, collectively this will provide a total of almost eight stops. For me personally, I like a six stop ND for moving water as it doesn’t blur everything to oblivion like say a ten stop would. A six stop shows slight movement which I prefer to portray. A neutral density filter should be exactly what the name suggests “neutral” in every which way and let me tell you all the Haida NDs I’ve ever tested are all neutral, no crazy coloured undertones, no vignetting and no loss of sharpness from corner to corner. What you see is what you get.

If your not wanting the polarising effect you can simply rotate the small dial (three gear linkage design ) on the mount independently, very smoothly to reduce or completely remove depending on the scenario of the scene. Once you start turning, you’ll instantly see the polarisation intensify on your live view screen. I tend to always rotate a CPL 360 degrees first to check the availability of contrast, saturation, and reflection. The strongest effect takes place at an angle of 90 degrees from the sun, ie make sure your line of sight is perpendicular to the direction of the sun. The filter is easily removed or exchanged by gently squeezing the red plastic tabs on the top and lifting it out without disturbing your composition. The choice is all yours and easily very adjustable.

Image of raw file with filter on, zoomed in 100% in Lightroom to demonstrate maximum sharpness of the rocks. Its clear to see the quality is second to none, excellent detail even in the darkest of shadows at blue hour.

For this very demanding scene above with the bright sunrise and dark foreground you need the best support from your gear. Let me tell you this filter made my job very easy, provided excellent control over the whole dynamic range, ultimate sharpness, no color cast or vignette, and really made me smile. Constructed from high quality optical glass the same as the Red Diamond series, each filter has ten layers of anti-reflective coatings, shock-proof and scratch-proof, provides the best clarity, includes the famous nano multi-coating to reduce reflection, waterproof (meaning any droplets of water literally roll off like beads, no ugly smears) and the dreaded fingerprints wipe off easily with a soft microfibre cloth.

The M10 round “drop-in” filters are available in a selection of: ND 0.9, 1.8 3.0, 4; CPL; Clear-night; GND-0.9 1.2; ND+CPL 0.9 and 1.8.

Images below showing straight-out-of-camera (Canon 5d mark iv and Canon 16-35mm USM L Lens) @19mm -With-without-M10 round “drop-in” CPL+ND 1.8 combi. No post processing on either, other than lens correction in Lightroom.

Without filter = ISO 100, F14, 0.6 sec – With Haida M10 round “drop-in” CPL+ND 1.8 combination. = ISO 100, F14, 30 seconds @19mm

Finally post processed in Adobe Creative Cloud

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Haida Red-diamond soft GND 1.2 (4 stops)

Earlier this year I tested the Haida Red-diamond medium 0.9 (3 stops) read review which totally stole my heart, since then it’s rarely been off my lens and I can’t wait to tell everyone how thrilled I am in using it. My love affair with this series only intensified, I had to try the Red-diamond soft graduated neutral density 1.2 (GND 4 stops) filter. Packed my kit and off I went to Aberdeen for sunrise to see how the soft grad stood up to the medium and let me tell you I was not disappointed.

The main purpose of a GND filter is to balance exposure in an image that contains a bright sky and darker foreground. As you can see from the photos below this filter is rectangle in shape and sized 100mm x 150mm, providing flexibility to move the filter up or down within the filter holder for ultimate control. Providing such a beautiful soft progression from dark at the top where you would place over the sky to clear at the bottom in a neutral manner and achieving endless creative possibilities.

What makes this series stand out from its predecessor and other brand filters are listed as follows:

Shock resistant, low risk to any accidental damage.

Scratch resistant, the perfect partner in demanding weather.

Zero colour cast.

Waterproof, oil and fingerprint proof Nanopro coated surface.

Improved optical glass.

R5 rounded corners – makes it easier to slide in and out of the filter holder, no sharp corners.

K9 optical glass.

True colour.

Ultra-thin nano multi coating.

Easy to clean.

Double the strength of other glass filters whilst at the same time retaining ultimate sharpness.

Still retaining 2 mm in thickness making it compatible with the Haida 100-Pro filter holder and other brands the same size.

The Red Diamond series is double the strength of a normal glass filter. You may have seen online the Haida Red Diamond drop test video? Where it’s thrown onto a concrete floor and no sign of damage to the filter. If you are accident prone this would be the perfect filter series for you.

Images below showing straight-out-of-camera (Canon 5d mark iv and Canon 16-35mm USM L Lens) @35mm with no filter and with Haida Red-diamond soft GND 1.2 (4 stops). No post processing on either other than lens correction in Lightroom. As you can see the soft GND significantly transforms the quality of the image.

Without filter = ISO 100, F10, 1/20 – With Haida Red-diamond soft GND filter 1.3 = ISO 100, F10, 0.8 seconds @35mm.

Finally post processed in Adobe Creative Cloud

Sunrise over Stonehaven, Aberdeenshire, Scotland.

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All Haida filters are assembled in their own optical workshop located in the beautiful Port City of Ningbo, China.

Conclusion

My overall conclusion is both filters are superiorly optically and I have absolutely no hesitation is recommending to anyone whether beginners or advanced and using for my own portfolio.

I hope this provides you some useful information. Please feel free to ask me any questions.

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If you would like to see more of my work; 500px, Facebook, Viewbug, Instagram

Jenny Camerons test review of Haida Red-diamond soft Graduated neutral density 1.2 (4 stop) & M10 round "drop-in" Circular Polariser and Neutral density 1.8 (6 stop) combi in the north of Scotland. Introduction Welcome to my test review of the Haida round "drop-in" Circular Polariser and Neutral Density 1.8 (6 stop) combination filter and Haida Red-diamond soft graduated neutral density 1.2 (4 stops).

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