#dames point bridge

[roxannarichie]

THE ANOMALY | Miguel O’Hara

Chapter One: Willow-Dean

“It…she… isn’t… hasn’t even been bitten… by anything!” Lyla yelled confused, her knowledge about this anomaly was extensive. She had detected her weeks ago but quickly realized the difference from past anomalies. Absolutely zero attachment to any kind of supernatural activity or phenomena. Nothing. Then why did the system detect her as an anomaly?

“What?” Miguel questioned, also confused, he walks toward his computer screen while putting on his Spider-suit. There was no way— there has to be something wrong with her— something that have away that she didn’t belong in that universe. His fingers tapped quickly and softly his watch– he pulls up a holographic screen of information about the woman. As he read the information, he gave intense look.

Looking at his from his peripheral vision, “Lyla, how long have you known about this anomaly?” His voice was calm with a hint of knowing and depth. The pixels assistant chuckled, her guilt was evident.

“Well you see– Miguel, it’s” she stammered.

“Lyla…” Miguel said sternly.

“Three to Four weeks”

“Three to Fo– How does that make any sense! A month? You know the damages this anomaly could have caused to that multiverse!” He lectured. Everyone knew the damage but how could an innocent woman who was blissfully unaware of how out of place she was cause so much harm and how!?

“Miguel, I only did it to watch her and study her. She lives an normal life, she not even a superhero of ANY kind.” Lyla argued. In her defense, the system glitched when it detected this woman which cause Lyla to doubt if she should warn Miguel immediately. Instead she did her own research. He glared at her still not seeming to loosen up.

“She was born September 16, 1998, she was raised by her mother and grandmother. Her father died while serving in the military months before she was even born.” A pixelated sweat droplet rolled down her forehead. She didn’t not want Miguel to put her on “do not disturb” like he did last time. It was absolutely torture.

Miguel sighed in defeat, placing his thump and pointer finger on the bridge of his nose, “Dios, dame fuerza, okay, what is her name?” He scrolls through the anomalies file, not seeing a name.

“Willow-Dean Jones” She said proudly.

“…..Willow what?” Miguel twisted his face, it was an odd name, and not unique odd though it was unique, more like weirdly odd.

“Willow-Dean Jones”

“So Dean is her middle name—“

“No, it’s her first name–“

“I’m not understanding.”

“It’s a double— a double name have you not heard of double names?”

“Yes but her name is already odd—I don’t understand the point of a double— WHATEVER!” His frustration and annoyance was obviously, he typed her name into the file.

Lyla was excited, “Yay, are you bringing her here?”

“Where else would I bring her?”

“Yes! Finally, some female company, though Jessica is lovely, she is pregnant and sleep most of the time, and—“ She looked at Miguel with a smirk, “Possible a new lady friend for—“

“No” He replied quickly

“—you and it gonna be so much fun, we can talk about girl stuff and then We talk about—“ Lyla chattered ignoring the brooding spider.

“Lyla. No–“

“–how mean you are and– oh, maybe you two can get married!”

“Lyla– for heaven sake, I’m 32!”

“That is only a seven year differe—“

Miguel had reluctantly put her on “do not disturb” which he knew she despised but anything to get her to stop specking about the anomaly with the weird name.

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x black reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut

[limpfisted]

BALDUR’S GATE 3 RP CANON COMPLIANT/DIVERGENT MEME: send in prompts for starters in between “canon events” for us to add our own flavor and further canon development to the game! this list is NOT EXHAUSTIVE, merely a “jumping off point.” if there are other canon events not included here, you can also send those in as well!

ACT ONE.

[ NAUTILOID. ] A starter where our muses awaken on the beach after the nautiloid crashes.

[ ETHEL. ] A starter where our muses are exploring the area around Aunt Ethel’s house.

[ HARPIES. ] A starter where our muses save the tiefling child from the harpies.

[ PICKPOCKET. ] A starter where our muses were pickpocketed by the tiefling kids—and now have to find their stuff.

[ LESSONS. ] A starter where our muses teach the tieflings how to fight, with Wyll.

[ TIEFLING PARTY. ] A starter where our muses approach one another at the tiefling party, to gossip, chat, dance, or hit on each other.

[ BRIDGE. ] A starter where our muses discuss Raphael’s deal.

[ MIZORA. ] A starter where our muses discuss Wyll’s pact—and his transformation.

[ BLOODLESS. ] A starter where one of our muse’s reacts the other being sucked dry by Astarion.

[ DREAM GUARDIAN. ] A starter where our muses react to the Dream Guardian visiting their dreams, and the power of the tadpoles.

[ SPORES. ] A starter where our muses react to the effects of the Myconoid’s gift.

[ SCRYING EYE. ] A starter where our muses are forced to think of a way to shank the scrying eye in the Grymforge.

[ SCRATCH. ] A starter where our muses react to Best Boy coming to camp the first time.

ACT TWO….

[ LAST LIGHT. ] For our muses to rest together at the Last Light Inn.

[ FAIRY. ] For our muses to listen to the moonlight lantern fairy curse their name.

[ SHAR. ] For our muses to complete the Shar puzzles together!

[ NIGHTSONG. ] For our muses to react after Shadowheart saves / does not save the Nightsong!

[ ENGINE. ] For our muses to react to Karlach being able to touch again.

[ FLESH. ] For our muses to explore the guts of Moonlight Towers together.

[ LOVE. ] For our muses to react to Dame Aylin and Isobel being reunited.

[ ORPHAN. ] For our muses to react to Arabella’s tragedy.

[ HIDE N SEEK. ] For our muses to play hide and seek with Thaniel!

ACT THREE. (spoilers under the cut.)

[ CIRCUS ] for a love trial, with more or different questions, and our own answers.

[ REFUGEES ] for our muses to try to help the refugees in some small way, large or small.

[ MANSION. ] for our muses to explore Cazador’s mansion.

[ TENTACLES. ] for our muses reaction to the reveal of the Act 3 Dream Guardian spoilers, and their subsequent request.

[ ELFSONG. ] For our muses to get a drink together and enjoy a good rest for a change.

[ STEEL FOUNDRY. ] for our muses to try to figure out a way into the steel foundry.

and that’s all for now, i may write more later!

#ooc #ask box meme

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Un bébé à Paris

A little blurb inspired by Jack’s trip to Paris ❤️

Traveling with Jack wasn’t always relaxing, with fans swarming him wherever he went, but when you mentioned that you wanted to spend a few days sightseeing in Paris after his work commitments were done, he pulled out all of the stops including hiring additional body guards to follow the three of you around the city.

Brooklyn had just turned one, and probably wouldn’t remember this trip, but Jack would and there was nothing he loved more than seeing his best friend smile.

****

“Alright, on three, say cheese!” Jack called out to you as you stood with Brooklyn in front of the Eiffel tower. “Brook, look over at Daddy!”, you pointed to where Jack was standing, Brooklyn’s face immediately lighting up when she saw her favorite person. She gave her best gummy smile while Jack took a couple of photos. After three minutes of standing in one spot, you were ready to move on.

“Babe, I think that’s enough.” You laughed, walking over to place Brooklyn back in her stroller.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get one where her eyes aren’t closed”, he replied while scrolling through the photo album on his phone. “I’m sending these to the family group chat. My mom threatened to disown me if I didn’t send at least one pic of B a day.”

“You never told me what you had planned for today.” You turned to Jack, taking a bite of your crepe. Jack just shrugged, a sly smile on his face.

“You’ll see.”

****

Along the way you stopped to take a picture of the Notre Dame, turning around to see Jack bouncing Brooklyn on his hip while he tried to feed her a piece of croissant. She immediately rejected it, scrunching her face in disgust.

“Poor baby is teething.” You ripped off a piece of the croissant and pressed it against her gums so she could chew it. She grunted in delight.

Off in the distance you could hear someone calling Jack’s name in a distinctive French accent. You turned to see a group of young girls rushing over to where Jack was standing, phones in hand. One of the body guards stopped them, trying to corral the eager fans.

“I’ll tell them no if you want me to.” Jack looked at you, his curls falling perfectly over his rimless glasses. He knew how much this trip meant to you, and it was supposed to be one of the few times you didn’t have to compromise for his work.

You held out your hands to take Brooklyn. “Just be quick.”

Jack ran over to the girls, took a couple of selfies and chatted with them for a couple of minutes. You smiled watching him in his element. You didn’t like every aspect of his career, especially when it took him away from you, but he was such a kind soul and would stop for every fan if he could.

****

Jack had planned a private tour of the Louvre for just the three of you that afternoon, but first he had a stop to make along the way.

You recognized it immediately: the Love Lock Bridge, a spot in the middle of Paris where hundreds of couples wrote their names on a lock, placed it on the bridge and threw the key into the Seine.

“Baby, we should have gotten a lock for us.” You groaned out as you looked at the gold locks glistening in the sun.

“Actually…” you turned to Jack who pulled a gold lock out of his pocket. He handed it to you, the front engraved with both of your names and the date of your wedding. You turned it over to see Brooklyn’s name on the back with her birthdate and the words ‘our love, our heart, our world’. You ran your fingers over the engravings, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I can’t believe you thought to do this.” You looked up at Jack.

“I wanted this to be a trip that we wouldn’t forget. One day when we take Brooklyn back to Paris when she’s older, we’ll take her here. We know our love is meant to last a lifetime, and now we’ll always have a physical reminder of that.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, Brooklyn giggling when Jack turned to pepper her face with kisses as well.

“You and Brooklyn are the best things to ever happen to me, I would be nothing without you. I love you so much.”

Jack took Brooklyn from you, adjusting her to balance on his arm so she had a perfect view of the river.

“I think you’re supposed to make a wish.” Jack winked at you as you walked to the edge of the bridge. You placed the lock on an empty spot, clicking it close and removing the key. Without a second thought, you immediately threw the key into the river, watching it sink to the bottom.

“Wait, but you didn’t make a wish.” Jack rushed over just as the key hit the water.

“I had nothing else to wish for. Everything I could have ever dreamed of I already have in you two.”

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow x reader #jackharlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fluff #jackman harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine

[beautifulsavagegarden]

Drabble - Spoilers for The Vampire Armand

He was quiet, his expression beautifully thoughtful as he knelt before the communion rail, looking up at the Christ on the cross, trying to wrap his head around Lestat's claims. Lestat had met the Christ as a man and he had taken his blood into him just as the faithful believed they did during the communion that would take place in this very spot that he occupied. the blood of Christ shed for you. It had been anathema to him, the fact that after all he had suffered, all the trials he had experienced in his life, all the loss, that it had been Lestat who had been so blessed. It had always been Lestat and even when he had lain on that floor gathering dust, he had drawn them all to him. There would never be a day where such a thing would occur for Armand. He could never summon them all, they would never care enough for him to do that and he understood to a degree. He was not as likeable as Lestat, he was truly a monster, and yet it wasn't just the monsterous that lurked beneath his skin. He was growing older in the blood with every year that passed and yet he was still young, still that boy staggering lost throughout the world trying to understand not only the world but who he was rather than who he had been and the mistakes he had made.

He had met Lestat first face to face in a church, in Notre Dame herself. He had once dwelled within a monastery. He had no right to exist in a state of semi-peacefulness when he was in the Holy Houses because he had been a child of satan, he had been a leader of the cult of the children of darkness and he had broken so many of the holy laws and yet he was allowed to be in such places as these. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his hands clasped together as though in prayer, studying the intricate and exact details of the Christ. He saw what very few mortal eyes ever could and he could appreciate the craftsmanship of this Christ. He wished, not for the first time, that he could have a true communion with him.

That could only ever be a wish though because when the Christ had touched them, he had touched Lestat, and it had driven him almost to the point of madness and yet it had been Armand who had gone into the sun. Was it the Christ who had saved him from the fate that he had lunged for with both hands or was it sheer coincidence, his own inbuilt vampiric desire to survive? Armand was many things and tenacious was certainly one of those things. He would survive, he would go on, he would deal with his sufferings and he would continue to move within the ever changing world, searching for something that was long lost to him now. He had his darling Sybelle and beautiful Benji and they were of great comfort to him, his family in every way they could be, and they brought happiness to him but there was always going to be an empty space that he could never ignore. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the blood tears that welled in his eyes at the mere thought of what he was searching for, who he was longing for. That bridge had been burned. There was no way to cross that chasm if he could even find him. Oh Daniel, my beloved Daniel. Did you weep when you heard of my demise? Did you know? Did you care?

Armand glanced around him, checking to see that he was alone, before he rose to his feet in a fluid motion, inclining his head towards the Christ in a small bob of deference, before he moved to the candles. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached for the taper and lit it then found a candle waiting. He lit the wick, watching as the flames consumed it and set the candle alight. He disposed of the taper and then focused on the dancing flame on the wick of the candle he had chosen and silently sent a prayer out to the world, to anyone who could listen. Bring my boy home. A single bloody tear escaped him and he brushed it away, turning and leaving the church, knowing that it had all been for nothing and yet hoping, desperately that this prayer would be answered.

#the botticelli angel (armand) #armand #armand the vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles #the vampire armand

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

November 13th: Yokohama

At dawn on the 13th the “Carnatic” entered the port of Yokohama. This is an important port of call in the Pacific, where all the mail-steamers, and those carrying travellers between North America, China, Japan, and the Oriental islands put in. It is situated in the bay of Yeddo, and at but a short distance from that second capital of the Japanese Empire, and the residence of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor, before the Mikado, the spiritual Emperor, absorbed his office in his own. The “Carnatic” anchored at the quay near the custom-house, in the midst of a crowd of ships bearing the flags of all nations.

Passepartout went timidly ashore on this so curious territory of the Sons of the Sun. He had nothing better to do than, taking chance for his guide, to wander aimlessly through the streets of Yokohama. He found himself at first in a thoroughly European quarter, the houses having low fronts, and being adorned with verandas, beneath which he caught glimpses of neat peristyles. This quarter occupied, with its streets, squares, docks, and warehouses, all the space between the “promontory of the Treaty” and the river. Here, as at Hong Kong and Calcutta, were mixed crowds of all races, Americans and English, Chinamen and Dutchmen, mostly merchants ready to buy or sell anything. The Frenchman felt himself as much alone among them as if he had dropped down in the midst of Hottentots.

He had, at least, one resource,—to call on the French and English consuls at Yokohama for assistance. But he shrank from telling the story of his adventures, intimately connected as it was with that of his master; and, before doing so, he determined to exhaust all other means of aid. As chance did not favour him in the European quarter, he penetrated that inhabited by the native Japanese, determined, if necessary, to push on to Yeddo.

The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called Benten, after the goddess of the sea, who is worshipped on the islands round about. There Passepartout beheld beautiful fir and cedar groves, sacred gates of a singular architecture, bridges half hid in the midst of bamboos and reeds, temples shaded by immense cedar-trees, holy retreats where were sheltered Buddhist priests and sectaries of Confucius, and interminable streets, where a perfect harvest of rose-tinted and red-cheeked children, who looked as if they had been cut out of Japanese screens, and who were playing in the midst of short-legged poodles and yellowish cats, might have been gathered.

The streets were crowded with people. Priests were passing in processions, beating their dreary tambourines; police and custom-house officers with pointed hats encrusted with lac and carrying two sabres hung to their waists; soldiers, clad in blue cotton with white stripes, and bearing guns; the Mikado’s guards, enveloped in silken doubles, hauberks and coats of mail; and numbers of military folk of all ranks—for the military profession is as much respected in Japan as it is despised in China—went hither and thither in groups and pairs. Passepartout saw, too, begging friars, long-robed pilgrims, and simple civilians, with their warped and jet-black hair, big heads, long busts, slender legs, short stature, and complexions varying from copper-colour to a dead white, but never yellow, like the Chinese, from whom the Japanese widely differ. He did not fail to observe the curious equipages—carriages and palanquins, barrows supplied with sails, and litters made of bamboo; nor the women—whom he thought not especially handsome—who took little steps with their little feet, whereon they wore canvas shoes, straw sandals, and clogs of worked wood, and who displayed tight-looking eyes, flat chests, teeth fashionably blackened, and gowns crossed with silken scarfs, tied in an enormous knot behind an ornament which the modern Parisian ladies seem to have borrowed from the dames of Japan.

Passepartout wandered for several hours in the midst of this motley crowd, looking in at the windows of the rich and curious shops, the jewellery establishments glittering with quaint Japanese ornaments, the restaurants decked with streamers and banners, the tea-houses, where the odorous beverage was being drunk with “saki,” a liquor concocted from the fermentation of rice, and the comfortable smoking-houses, where they were puffing, not opium, which is almost unknown in Japan, but a very fine, stringy tobacco. He went on till he found himself in the fields, in the midst of vast rice plantations. There he saw dazzling camellias expanding themselves, with flowers which were giving forth their last colours and perfumes, not on bushes, but on trees, and within bamboo enclosures, cherry, plum, and apple trees, which the Japanese cultivate rather for their blossoms than their fruit, and which queerly-fashioned, grinning scarecrows protected from the sparrows, pigeons, ravens, and other voracious birds. On the branches of the cedars were perched large eagles; amid the foliage of the weeping willows were herons, solemnly standing on one leg; and on every hand were crows, ducks, hawks, wild birds, and a multitude of cranes, which the Japanese consider sacred, and which to their minds symbolise long life and prosperity.

As he was strolling along, Passepartout espied some violets among the shrubs.

“Good!” said he; “I’ll have some supper.”

But, on smelling them, he found that they were odourless.

“No chance there,” thought he.

The worthy fellow had certainly taken good care to eat as hearty a breakfast as possible before leaving the “Carnatic;” but, as he had been walking about all day, the demands of hunger were becoming importunate. He observed that the butchers stalls contained neither mutton, goat, nor pork; and, knowing also that it is a sacrilege to kill cattle, which are preserved solely for farming, he made up his mind that meat was far from plentiful in Yokohama—nor was he mistaken; and, in default of butcher’s meat, he could have wished for a quarter of wild boar or deer, a partridge, or some quails, some game or fish, which, with rice, the Japanese eat almost exclusively. But he found it necessary to keep up a stout heart, and to postpone the meal he craved till the following morning. Night came, and Passepartout re-entered the native quarter, where he wandered through the streets, lit by vari-coloured lanterns, looking on at the dancers, who were executing skilful steps and boundings, and the astrologers who stood in the open air with their telescopes. Then he came to the harbour, which was lit up by the resin torches of the fishermen, who were fishing from their boats.

The streets at last became quiet, and the patrol, the officers of which, in their splendid costumes, and surrounded by their suites, Passepartout thought seemed like ambassadors, succeeded the bustling crowd. Each time a company passed, Passepartout chuckled, and said to himself: “Good! another Japanese embassy departing for Europe!”

#Around the World in 80 days #jules verne #around the world in 80 dailies

[spellbook-gayboy]

Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend: The Story of a Superhero who became a Fashion Mogul by Christina Cabello

Throughout the course of her life, Ilyana ‘Layla’ Ignacio has worn many different hats: superhero, professional MMA fighter, and most recently, successful fashionista. Her story is one of hardship, reinvention and enterprise that stands alone in its uniqueness even among her peers in the international superhero community. From her career as the heroine Krystal to her ventures in the world of fashion, it seems that the Diamond Dame has been there and done that on more than one occasion, and still plans to do so much more. 

Much of Miss Ignacio’s earliest days as a hero remain unknown, but what is known is that her powers were the result of truly extraordinary circumstances: caught in the explosion of a major industrial accident, the damage to her body triggered a nigh impossible reaction within her cells that caused them to crystallise in an attempt to save her. It worked, and as a result, Layla retained the ability to convert her soft tissue into an organic diamond-like substance that greatly enhances her durability and regeneration and removes the need for her to eat, sleep and even breathe. She can also generate extra amounts of this substance both in and out of her crystalline form. With these newfound abilities and her background as an amateur MMA fighter, Layla took the alias of Krystal and embarked on a new career as a superhero, fighting crime and looking good while doing it. In this period of her life she accomplished much, from fighting many varieties of supervillains to pulling off many incredible rescues, perhaps the most famous of which being the time that she managed to lift a large chunk of the collapsed Golden Gate Bridge (the weight of which was estimated to weigh somewhere in the region of 500-1000 tons) to rescue a trapped group of civilians during an attack by the supervillain Walking Dread. 

But all good things must come to an end eventually, and over time, Krystal began to slowly dial back her appearances as a superhero, citing a still unknown personal tragedy. It was also at this point that she made the first of many forays into the world of fashion: at just twenty-seven years old, Layla opened the Stellar Shine Fashion Boutique, from which she would gain no small of fame for her innovative techniques and unique design vision. Not long after the opening of her boutique, Layla also debuted the first of her many successful clothing lines, Cosmic Figures. Apparently named for and inspired by a childhood fascination with designing astronomy-themed clothes, Cosmic Figures quickly became one of the fastest-selling clothing lines of the year and even won the Emerging Talent Award at that year’s CFDA Fashion Awards. This interest with the stars also influenced the boutique itself, hence its name, and most if not all of the lines that have been produced since it opened, including the upcoming Nova and Nebula line of womenswear, which is set to release in time for summer of this year. During all of this, Layla did also still make appearances as Krystal, now a frequent associate of the late Guardians of the Globe, in particular members Green Ghost and Black Samson, the latter of whom she was also rumoured to be in a romantic relationship at one point or another. For a time, it seemed as if things couldn’t be better for her, with both a thriving hero career and a successful business under her wing. 

But that was soon shattered when the Guardians of the Globe were found dead, later confirmed as having been murdered by the former superhero Omni-Man. This revelation gutted Krystal, who announced shortly afterwards that she would be going on hiatus from crimefighting for the foreseeable future. While she has been spotted occasionally in her crystalline form since then, Layla currently devotes most of her time to her position as CEO and Head Fashion Designer of the Stellar Shine Fashion Boutique based in Syracuse, New York, where she continues her work while grieving the loss of such close allies and friends. 

In summary, the story of Ilyana Ignacio is one of many twists and turns, with changes that have bought both hardship and relief. It is the story of a woman who has reinvented herself time and again, who has gone from an amateur fighter on the edges of obscurity to one of the most famous person in the American fashion world. But perhaps most importantly, it’s a story that is also far from being over, and knowing Krystal, isn’t likely to stop being eventful any time soon. 

#here you go summer! #invincible #invincible show #invincible amazon #invincible oc #💎🪡 #ilyana ignacio #christina cabello #cape-watch

[castle-dominion]

don't tell my family but I want to try out liveblogging an ep I haven't seen before. Maybe it will make me finally Shut Up during the family watch

4x17 I think, once upon a crime.

little red riding hood lol I recognize that bridge from the spy episode I think Sexy big billowy red cape btw, oh & falls like a dame

It's like TUA I'd believe that. This a biography? Also as a mentally ill person heck yeah I love a good scribe! martha just taking over his office lol "I'd like to write another one"

RC: First Alexis is interning for Lanie, now my mother is taking over my office. (again, don't u remember life coaching in I think s1?) I feel like my whole life is being invaded. KB: You'll get used to it. I did.

Oh she's barefoot! & those are deep facial gashes LP: they're shallow Me: ?????? Castle obv it's little red riding hood, but the story was not a prophesy. KB: Great, Castle. I'll call in an APB for the Big Bad Wolf. RC: Do you have a better theory? [Beckett chews on her lip. She keeps walking.] KB: Hey, Ryan? [Ryan walks over. normal jacket, not a coat & not rly fancy, def not a dress coat, he has a scarf, no tie but pinkish shirt with white stripes.] KB: Do you think you could call dispatch, see if there are any reports of a violent animal running around the park? KR, castle jr: Like a wolf? A Big Bad one? KB: Really? KR: *points* That is exactly how I pictured her. It's freaky. My older sister used to read me that story.

RC: "…when he leaped up and gobbled down poor Little Red Riding Hood." Well, the good news is the Wolf can talk. So, if we can find him, we might be able to get a confession.

I love love love love love folktale, it is such an important part of folklore & culture. I want a Métis story at some point but we are such a small community that nobody is going to do it except us. But hey that's what fanfiction is for!

Ok why does esposito's hair keep growing? I prefer this to the hair in s3 but s1+2 hair was nice. I like how he has opinions on fairy tales at least. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would share that.

KB: Are you drinking Castle's Kool-Aid now? Oh btw espt's outfit: nice grey suit jacket with a square pattern on it, nice dark blue (but obv blue) shirt, dark desaturated blue tie with thin white stripes & thick grey stripes. Sometimes he comes to work looking like this, other times he is wearing what I'd wear as pyjamas.

Oh it's always the person the family member brings in with them. It's going to be this man. Also dang she needs to join a union or smth bc no human should be working 100h/week, no human should be working 80 hours a week, heck no human should be working 40 hours a week! We have machines & automation now, we have more PEOPLE now, why are we working MORE? We should all be living our lives singing & dancing & making music & drawing & painting & writing & conversing & sleeping & petting animals & cooking & eating & smiling. Besides, every job out there? Someone wants to do it. The world is a wonderful beautiful place (I say as a person with a severe case of major depressive disorder) full of love & fulfillment & community. It should not be a place where people work 100 hour work weeks.

Holy crap I'm not even at the titlecard! Capes are coming back into fashion! People have been talking about it lately! (beckett looks so... boring, so normal. I want her to look cool again, her pixie cut was good

Long hours high pressure? She's probably really into kink or smth. Or that steampunk bar. RC: There’s this whole adult role-playing subculture obsessed with fairytales. (castle...?) KB: RC: No-- not that kind of adult role play. Although, there’s that one, too. KB: And you know this how? RC: Did a little research. KB: 🤢 RC: (chuckle) Bo Peep. KB: ._. RC: Anyway, these people get dressed in the outfits, they play the characters, they even reenact the stories. Maybe that’s what Amy was doing when everything went horribly and tragically wrong. KB: Castle, that is a surprisingly reasonable and grounded theory. RC: Yeah. *JE enters* Frankly, I’m a little disappointed in myself. JE: We all are, bro. KB: : ) (I'm assuming that's disappointed in castle not "we all" as in disappointed in ourselves)

KB closeup: Contact her bank. See if they know why she made that withdrawal. JE heading out: As you wish. jafsdhajsdkfhas Apparently huertas & katic are both fans of the princess bride & so when they have beckett closeups huertas will respond with "as you wish" to make her laugh but this time they kept it in or scripted it in bc it's a fairy tale episode & I think that was cute af. yk I would actually think it would be great if espt was a princess bride fan. It's a story full of torture & sword fighting & politics & giants & war & pirates & revenge & poison & miracles & mountains & oceans & bloodthirsty eels & he gets the sexy lady in the end.

reminds me of that episode in murdoch mysteries. The guy spoke ojibwe & said ma'iingan but I, knowing some cree (& having context), figured out that it meant wolf since the cree word is mahikan. So proud of myself.

Ok I understand trying to blame a wolf but dressing her up as red riding hood? This was NOT for the purpose of pretending the killer is a wolf & getting away with it. Or maybe he drugged her with K & brought her to the park, maybe so he could hunt her & roleplay, maybe it was consensual nonconsent or smth, but then why would he drug her?

hOLY CRAP that is One Nice Vest! Look at that! Ryan has a beautiful vest with a blue back panel & omg is it nice, with that light pink shirt? (& those fkn eyes) Oof I think it suits him SO well. Who is the costume designer? Who dressed ryan? I need to speak with you & bake you a pie.

*casually uses a sexily tanned gal instead of idk like an anemic or smth* but then again black hair doesn't really occur in white ppl (except my gramma but she's technically Métis)

OH SO ONLY NOW IS THE INTRO? I FEEL LIKE I'M ALREADY A THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH THE EPISODE

ok also what's going on with ryan's hair? he looks like me rn, we both need to cut our hair, I have a mohawk but I'm brushing it back instead of up bc it's too long (I have thin hair, product sometimes just weighs it down)

I might actually call them a spree killer bc of the closer proximity in time & location Ok I always thought that it was just esposito furrowing his eyebrows but I think that's actually a scar that jon huertas has & now I feel bad lol Lunch at what time? (thanks ryan) wait I just had a thought: don't look into the victim, look into the killer. Evil stepmother & big bad wolf? What is in common with them?

at least ryan says "excuse me" before taking his call, unlike OTHER people That's a palindrome number. 50 605? Ryan *just standing there with his head in the door*

AC: about you too *taps her dad's nose* WAIT SHE DID MAKE EXAGGERATIONS RIGHT? BUT DID MARTHA REALLY SLEEP WITH HIS FIRST PUBLISHER? OH PLEASE LET THAT BE TRUE Oh well at least it was after the book was out......... StiLL, WhAT Castle *pours himself a finger of scotch after seeing his mom flirt with the playwrite younger than him* Martha: Oh, darling, I invited Beckett to the reading tomorrow night, so you two might want to make a date of it. Rick: *pours more booze*

Remember when rick said "if I ever choose to write a biography remind me to Not"? Yeah Martha is doing it now KB: Oh, so you don’t like it when someone writes their own version of your life? Interesting. RC: Okay, are you referring to the Nikki Heat books? Because this is completely different.

oh fu heck yes ryan in that pink shirt that's so good. Maybe the costume design is putting him in so much pink lately bc he just got married. & then esposito with his layers upon layers? He's breaking down the homo headcanon/au in favour of a bi one with all them those layers. it's going to be martha's acting studio

Woah ok this is interesting camera work, I'm on my period & I have a headache & I'm in pain & I'm overheating & so I feel nauseous, this camera work is not the best for me rn. But hey espt & ryan have p big guns & their vests are black & called nypd not blue & police. But the other ppl (who are actually wearing helmets) do say police. Yay ryan gets to break the door this time

Oof I Looooove a creepy doll, I love haunted dolls I love creepy collections of things I love my auntie doris's house with all her creepy dolls i love my bone collection, also poor ryan with a fear of dolls ever since he watched that movie as a kid lmao

she's so right tho. She was coming to the door she was just slow! Tho she could have said "coming" ig. Maybe she was waiting to hear another knock on the door. Ooh yk I'd like to have a teenager in their room not notice breaking down the door bc they are listening to loud music. or a deaf person. I'd love that. having been an emo teen & also being deaf. I love when they break down old ladies' doors & they offer them candy or tea & cats Ji: No, dearie, nobody else lives here, just me and my friends. KR: *looks up at all the dolls, then looks down again in deep discomfort* (ngl I love seeing him uncomfy like this. this is why i read fanfiction. i get to put characters in pain or i get to put them in comfort, either way it is cathartic.) "Yes they are" "I can't imagine" Ji: Do I look like someone who has a habit of wasting money? I—I’m on a fixed income. the dolls: *sitting on every available surface* *slowly removes a doll from behind his back* Yep, keep it in your bra babes.

I was totally expecting her to send EACH of the cops home (or at least each of the detectives home) with a doll or a small figurine

JE+KR: On it *look at each other in jinx*

castle writer moments yeah of course she would have withdrawn the-- WAIT THAT'S HOW YOU FIND & PROTECT HER

Jessie: I’ve never been questioned by cops before. You mind if I tweet about this? KR: ??? Uh, yeah, yes, we—we do mind.

I thought maybe the third woman killed them like the table of last supper electroplating sex worker story from murdoch mysteries. Maybe this third friend just woke up from a coma & used to actually be friends with them but these two friends stabbed her in the back while she was coma'd.

that was NOT typing was it? Who types like that? Is castle on the phone at the same time ?? Oh wait i'm dumb, I THOUGHT he was calling someone else but I doubted myself

Charlotte's already dead Nice angel wing Yep she be dead. NOPE SHE'S ALIVE what if it was suicide?

KB: So, what, you’re Prince Charming now? RC: Well, if the shoe fits obv the 4th is the killer but who are they? SEE I TOLD YOU 50605 the killer really does have a psychological motivation

Ooh I love photograph nerds oof welp he def can't be the killer but-- hold on, 6th of may 2005? in USA speak that's 05/06/05! (in normal speak it's 6/05/'05). I'm guessing the police report is about his death? Those three did smth to get him killed? I didn't know ikwydls was from 97, I got ads for it on youtube, must have been a remake. I was actually thinking of that.

I still think she did it, it was a spree-murder-suicide. Where are her injection marks? Girl don't mix drugs if u don't know what u'r doing Yeah b'y they were kids with a lot to lose Maybe he never intended for you to live & just thought he could get money out of it at the same time

You know I want an adhd killer/victim who can't be tracked bc they keep forgetting to put the money in the bank, or castle thinks the victim is a spy bc they keep losing their toothbrush & buying new ones, I want them to say "it wasnt [adhd killer] because look at how they acted in the interview" but it's just emotional dysregulation, I want them to think "[adhd killer] never would have been able to do xyz bc they're not smart enough, they didn't even finish high school" but [adhd killer] had a hyperfixation on that thing & is really skilled at that thing, I want the ME to say "there is a bunch of drug residue on them" & then beckett assumes they were on or selling drugs but when ME runs tox "they were on a prescription dosage" Or maybe I want a busker who gets paid in cash so they think it's money laundering or smth when they're actually a fiddler.

Called it. husband that the sister brought in.

(ryan always gets played off as the feminine one but he is not necessarily, his voice gets so deep sometimes but in such a way it gives me gender envy, his voice seems to have a wider range of speaking voice than esposito but because of this sometimes I can't tell which one is talking)

Ok he's lying? Yeah he did it wait... he only blackmailed & didn't killl...

yo always get a lawyer y'all, don't ever talk to cops. I THOUGHT IT COULD HAVE BEEN THE SISTER, I KNEW IT. Or no, the way she's scting, it's too much to be an act. (I say knowing this is fiction.) why is nobody breaking up this fight? Maybe bc they hate him maybe bc she's a girl (& apparently teachers are told to break up fights between boys but not get between girls)

KB: Don’t underestimate him. I mean, the only reason that he copped to the blackmail was to avoid murder charges. And like any psychopath, he’s a great actor. Oh, speaking of… RC: Psychopaths or actors? KB: I was thinking about your mom. RC: Oh, so a little of both. KB: I think we can make the play. RC: Really? So you want to venture into the dark, scary woods? KB: Don’t worry, Castle. I got a gun. I’ll protect you from the Big Bad Wolf. RC: You’d use your gun on my mother? KB: RC: I’m touched. Thank you. KB:

Slip-on shoes are the way to go

What bow? Whose bow?

Was it her? Can't be her I already ruled that out. Where was she injected? Unless it wasn't a suicide attempt but just an overdose to get the cops' eyes off her She is getting teary but not crying bc she's faking & she just Can't Quite Cry whut that makes very little sense tbh Why would you kill two more ppl if you're trying to save your life? I mean unless u got away with it by successfully playing the victim She's literally in the hospital

What the fudge I love the way ryan is walking backwards, point for the adhd headcanon (gosh has roofing taught me nothing? Even in the kitchen I walk backwards) Wow sappy af. (I love the way rysposito look at each other) what's castle got there? a recording device to prove beckett is actually a softie? Little peace sign up there

"Hey I'm right here" The role of a mother <3 *living in his house* *holds his hand*

Ok so I think I like watching it first bc I can write my theories without forgetting them but it might be shorter if I watch it first & then I always notice stuff more the second time through & I can make note of that stuff for future reference when I know it doesn't make sense

I also realize that I probably should have skipped a few episodes so I'm not watching the same one twice in one day but rather have some time in between. idk when mum is coming home so maybe I can watch another one but from way later in the season. Probably not tho since it will take MORE than half an hour.

I do think that maybe it will let me SHUT UP during the show or it will make me overly talkative once I know how it works. Maybe I'll just keep my mouth shut bc I don't feel the need to share my theories or I'll be afraid of spoiling so I'll actually be quiet for once

#castle 4x17 #castle 4x17 spoilers #castle 4x17 quote #castle binge watch

[beardedmrbean]

A burglary suspect opened fire on Jacksonville police late Sunday hitting one in the back, but the officer was wearing a bulletproof, according to the Sheriff's Office.

The man believed to have shot the officer fled as he fired more shots, then died after jumping off the Dames Point bridge into the St. Johns River, the Sheriff's Office said.

It started about 10:45 p.m. with two officers responding to the burglary call near the 4100 block of Old Middleburg Road, Chief Brian Kee said.

"They were ambushed by the suspect," Kee said. "The suspect fired multiple rounds and struck one of the officers in the back. Fortunately, the body armor that JSO issues stopped that round. ... That officer was.

Kee said investigators do not know if the suspect was hit in the shootout. But he stole a car from the home and fled, firing at the officers as he drove off.

"We have multiple [shell] casings at the scene," Kee said. "... As he was fleeing, he actually hit a parked car."

The chief said the suspect is known to the people in the home where the burglary was reported, and multiple descriptions were provided. The vehicle was spotted and pursued about 30 miles away on the Dames Point bridge by officers.

"They witnessed this suspect exit the car and jump over the side of the bridge into the river," Kee said. "They were able to see him swim for a little bit, then he disappeared. JFRD and our marine and dive team have been in the area searching, and at about 3 a.m. they located a body."

A gun was found at the bottom of the river near the body, he said.

It was unknown if the suspect had been shot by officers, although blood was found in the stolen car, Kee said.

The injured officer had "severe bruising" from the shot that hit the bulletproof vest but is recovering, he said.

No names have been released.

#nunyas news #at least the dude saved the taxpayer some money

[spiderdreamer-blog]

Disney DTV Sequel Capsule Reviews: Atlantis: Milo’s Return (2003) and 101 Dalmatians: Patch’s London Adventure (2003)

The legacy of the DTV sequel/TV spinoff era for Disney’s animated films is a fascinating question. In terms of the naysayers, it was seen as diluting the brand with cheap recycling of the characters and plots of the classic movies (this is also the current argument aimed at the live action remakes). On the positive end, fans who grew up with them cite expanded worldbuilding and stories with new, compelling characters as points in their favor. I’m somewhere in the middle: I think at their worst with films like The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea, The Hunchback of Notre Dame II, The Jungle Book 2, or The Fox and the Hound 2, the stories are lazy and inspired with dull characters that don’t further the narratives. (FATH2 also lands in the strange “midquel” territory, which tends to present structural and dramatic issues) But at their best, those positive elements do stand out: even with some janky animation here and there, the Aladdin sequels and series created a robust action-adventure universe, The Lion King 1 1/2 is a genuinely clever spin (I also have a fondness for the Timon and Pumbaa TV show in terms of unabashed cartoon shenanigans, and Simba’s Pride has some strong drama to it), An Extremely Goofy Movie is a very solid follow-up to its predecessor, while Cinderella III: A Twist in Time arguably improves on the original in terms of the character writing. So I find myself here today having watched a couple of them I hadn’t seen before and found them interesting enough to write about. Let’s dig in, shall we?

Atlantis: Milo’s Return

So the first interesting note here is that this technically isn’t actually a sequel film. Prior to the summer 2001 release of Atlantis: The Lost Empire, a follow-up TV series called Team Atlantis was developed by Disney TV animation stalwarts like Tad Stones, Victor Cook, and Greg Weisman. It got far enough into production that three episodes were fully completed. Then the bad news came from on high: Atlantis had underperformed at the box office (though not outright bombing in the way, say, Treasure Planet did) thanks to a certain green ogre dominating all he surveyed, so the series was cancelled. This is quite a shame, in my opinion. Atlantis is one of my favorite Disney films, especially from that weird experimental era where they were attempting to experiment and get away from the strict Broadway musical formula that had dominated the Disney Renaissance of the late 80s through the 90s. We had this, Treasure Planet, Tarzan, The Emperor’s New Groove, and Lilo & Stitch in a five year span (we also had Dinosaur, Brother Bear, and Home on the Range, so not all of them were GOOD experiments, though I like Range more than most). It has great characters, some of my favorite character animation in the canon, and is gorgeously realized in terms of the various blended aesthetics and filmmaking. But someone got the bright idea in their head to compile the completed episodes and add some bridging animation to see if they could make some money off it. Incidentally, this is not the first time this has happened: Belle’s Magical World is made up of three episodes of an abandoned Beauty and the Beast spinoff series, and the first of these, The Return of Jafar, was initially created as the pilot movie for the Aladdin TV series before Michael Eisner suggested the video release.

We pick up sometime after the events of the film. Kida (Cree Summer), now Queen of Atlantis, is pondering if she should end her late father’s isolationism and return the city to the surface. Before she and Milo (James Arnold Taylor picking up for Michael J. Fox, the only original cast member not to return since he was presumably too expensive for a series budget) can make that decision, friends like Whitmore (John Mahoney, though a few lines sound like Corey Burton ADR pick-ups), Mole (Burton), Vinnie (Don Novello), Sweet (Phil Morris), and Audrey (Jacqueline Obradors) drop in for a visit. It turns out weird shit is happening on the surface that may be related to lost Atlantean artifacts, so the group goes to investigate. This gets us into our three recycled episodes: the first involves a trip to a village near Trondheim, Norway that is besieged by a Kraken and the mysterious Volgud (Clancy Brown); the next takes them to Arizona and an encounter with dust coyotes; and the third involves a former competitor of Whitmore’s, Erik Hellstrom (W. Morgan Sheppard), who had a mental breakdown and now believes himself to be Odin, wishing to bring down Ragnarok on the world.

I admit to grading on some fairly generous curves here. The animation is a notable downgrade from the film in the level of detail and fluidity, though it’s better looking than other spinoff series like The Legend of Tarzan, which cannot remotely replicate the intricate designs of that source film on a TV budget. And while Taylor is a fine actor that replicates Fox’s nerdy exuberance well, it’s distracting that he sounds “off” when every other major character outside of Cookie (Steven Barr taking over for the late Jim Varney, who died prior to the film’s release) steps right into place like they never left. But in terms of an old-fashioned episodic adventure series, it’s actually pretty entertaining once we get underway. 

One major point in its favor are that the characters are all on point writing wise (Sweet is forever my favorite thanks to Morris’ cheerful motor-mouth contrasting so well with his massive size), and it’s nice to see progression on things like Milo and Kida’s romantic relationship being low-key sweet or the obvious question she would have to answer in terms of Atlantis’ status. It’s also interesting to watch the stories progressively get better. The first one has some decent action and Lovecraftian atmosphere, but Volgud is a mostly periphery threat who could’ve been emphasized more; it feels like a waste of the always great Brown, who adds a Nordic chill to his bass tones. The second has more of a fun Western vibe, with a good sneering villain in the form of Thomas F. Wilson as Ashton Carnaby, shifting his Biff vibes into sleazy con man mode, and he gets a grimly karmic fate for his transgressions. A Native American spirit named Chakashi also has some interesting beats as a character, not revealing whether he’s friend or foe until the end, and I like Floyd Red Crow Westerman’s dry, foreboding performance. The third story is unquestionably the best. Sheppard (in an ironic bit of casting since he played the genuine article Odin in an episode of Weisman’s Gargoyles) is a commanding and charismatic presence as Hellstrom, who carries the action formidably. His recasting of Milo as the trickster god Loki and Kida as his daughter Brunhilde reminded me of how Batman: The Animated Series handled the character of Maxie Zeus: his delusions are so overpowering that they barely seem to inconvenience him. You even feel a slight touch of pity as he cries out for his Asgard at the end. It also has some fun lifts from Jack Kirby in how a frost giant and presumably Surtur are visualized.

All told, I think I had this quite a bit of potential as a series even with the noted flaws. Among the planned episodes were a crossover with Gargoyles called “The Last” that would’ve featured an unnamed Demona and one of the Canmore family’s Hunters, which got as far as recording and model sheets before the plug got pulled. I don’t know that it would’ve been groundbreaking, but we still could have had plenty of adventures with this crew, and maybe more continuations like a theatrical sequel. Hell, I’d be down for a revival Disney Plus series at this point. But this is all that remains of a curious, half-formed dream.

101 Dalmatians: Patch’s London Adventure

The original 101 Dalmatians is not what I’d call a four-star classic of the Disney canon, but it’s a solid B+ with a great 60s London vibe and one of the all-time classic villains in Cruella De Vil. She’s so iconic and funny that they half considered using her in The Rescuers (which IMO would’ve been a considerable improvement) and they had to get no less then the great Glenn Close to play her in the 90s live action remake. The massive success of said remake reignited interest in the property, with a spinoff TV series that melded elements of the original film and the remake, as well as a sequel to the live action film, 102 Dalmatians (the height of creativity, as you can see), and this sequel. I’d never seen it before, but found a good recommendation for it in a YouTube ranking of all the sequels, so I decided to check it out.

We pick up after the film as Roger and Anita Darling (Tim Bentnick and Jodi Benson, the latter managing a pretty good British accent to these Yankee ears) prepare to move their pound of puppies, as well as Pongo (Samuel West) and Perdita (Kath Soucie), to a farm in the country, their “dalmatian plantation”. One pup, the titular Patch (Bobby Lockwood), increasingly feels left out and not recognized for his own qualities. Naturally, he fawns over TV hero Thunderbolt (Barry Bostwick), who’ll be in town for a get-on-the-show-as-a-guest-star contest, and Patch seizes the opportunity when he’s accidentally left behind in the move. After Patch embarrasses himself at the contest, Thunderbolt’s sidekick, Lightning (Jason Alexander), informs the star that the producers are planning to kill him off and replace him with a younger dog, in a bid to make himself the star after stewing in his shadow. Thunderbolt then determines he should commit real acts of heroism to raise his profile and recruits Patch to help him when he realizes the fan remembers more about his own show than he does. Meanwhile, a disgraced Cruella (Susanne Blakeslee) meets strange artist Lars (Martin Short, going full-bore on the pretentious French artiste cliche) and is inspired by his spot-centric art, eventually getting a wonderful, awful idea to inspire him in turn...

The first, most obvious thing about this movie is that it looks great. Disney’s then-still-in-action Japanese unit replicates the Xerography look of the original quite well, giving it a fresh digital crispness in the process. Especially good are the backgrounds, which are a lovely callback to the modern, abstract cityscapes of London. They accompany this with their typical brand of fluid, snappy character animation that suits figures like the larger-than-life Thunderbolt and the extravagant Cruella. It feels like a channeling rather than a stale imitation, which is key to these projects. The acting is also very much on point, particular highlights including Lockwood being chirpy and likeable without becoming grating, Bostwick riding a good line of an egotistical jerk that you nonetheless care about, Alexander using his smarmy asshole routine to great effect, Blakeslee adding to her repertoire of recreating old-timey villains (she’s also a great Maleficent) by chewing every last scrap of scenery available, and Short managing a good two-step with a character who is at first deliberately annoying but undergoes a pleasantly surprising change.

“Pleasantly surprising” is a good way to put it overall. Like the original, it’s not groundbreaking, but it finds purchase in pursuing solid character dynamics. A dilemma like Patch’s is quite a fertile one, and they mine it well without going too far into bathos territory; notably, once it’s discovered that he’s missing, his family IMMEDIATELY leaps into action. The bond between him and Thunderbolt is nicely organic, with the star learning that his actions do have a positive impact even if they’re just “acting” in his mind. And while they have a slightly rote “liar revealed” moment when Lightning gleefully rubs it in that Thunderbolt was using Patch for his own benefit, the pup’s hurt is well-handled, and Thunderbolt actually owns up to it rather than make excuses, which assists his ultimate redemptive moments (he’d also already been feeling guilty and tried to admit it beforehand). Cruella is used in interesting ways too; even if she reverts to her old self to a degree, it’s fascinating to see her kind of broken down and in a real relationship. There’s also a few good chuckles out of the culture clash between the thoroughly American Thunderbolt and his British surrounding, such as a gag where he chastises drivers for being on the “wrong” side of the road. The only really tired/eye-rolling moment is a drag-disguise scene with henchmen Horace and Jasper that doesn’t really add anything a less elaborate, gendered disguise couldn’t have accomplished. I get that a lot of these old-school drag bits weren’t inherently malicious, but it’s always a bit jarring to go back (compare to, say, Bugs Bunny, who gives remarkably zero fucks in ways that are more palatable to modern lenses).

My ultimate conclusion here, I suppose, is that while hard work and talent do not always make up for weak premises and starting points, as many of these sequels evidenced, the fact remains that a lot of hardworking, talented people who cared about the craft did work on these. The law of averages demands that can come through even under mercenary circumstances and with less resources. I find myself glad I dipped into these waters again, thinking more fondly of the whole enterprise.

Except you, Little Mermaid II. You still suck.

#disney #disney dtv sequels #atlantis: the lost empire #atlantis: milo's return #101 dalmatians #101 dalmatians: patch's london adventure #media analysis #reviews

[mousegard]

snippets of odette’s first meeting with leandra:

“Let me take a look at that,” Leandra said, and she snatched the course selection sheet right out of Odette’s paws.

“Hey,” Odette protested, but Leandra sidled just out of arm’s-length and held the sheet up. Her golden eyes scoured it, and then she took out a glass nib pen from her purse, tapped it on the sheet, and Odette watched all of her handwriting vanish from the page.

“Hey!” Odette protested, and she reached for the sheet with renewed vigor.

“Your electives are all wrong,” Leandra chastised her. “You can’t take…” She wrinkled her nose, curled her lip, and furrowed her brow, making her face look like the whole thing were being pinched, “‘Advanced Fried Ice Cream Appreciation 211,’ let alone ‘Introduction to Personal Mane and Tail Grooming 131’—which, by the way, you seem quite overqualified for—‘Advanced Applications of Hop-Scotch 303,’ and… ‘Applied Walking 187.’”

“Why not? They sound fun! Is that the problem?”

“First, ‘Introduction to Fried Ice Cream Appreciation’ is a prerequisite for ‘Advanced Fried Ice Cream Appreciation.’”

“So, sign me up for that.”

“Second, these courses are a honeypot.”

“That sounds good; I love honey.”

Leandra was momentarily taken aback, at which point Odette successfully snatched the sheet away from her.

“You got a pen?” Odette asked her.

Leandra looked down at her pen. “…I’m not letting you borrow my pen.”

“Why not?”

“I know what you’ll write.”

“Yes, you do. I’m signing up for all those fun-sounding classes. I only need to earn twelve credit-hours this semester and I’m free, that’s what Dame Geraldine said. I think. That’s all I care about.”

“No, Odette, you…” Leandra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Those classes are only taught here as a practical joke on commoner students. The credit-hours for a given semester aren’t awarded until after a student completes their winter or summer work-study…”

Odette groaned. Work and study, her two least favorite words.

“…and if you fill out your schedule with nothing but these silly blow-off classes,” Leandra concluded, “you won’t survive it.”

“That’s not a funny prank,” Odette said.

“It isn’t,” Leandra agreed.

“I really wanted to appreciate some fried ice cream, too. I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“If you’re going to last here,” Leandra said, and she very carefully began to slide the sheet out of Odette’s paws, “you need to take real courses.”

Odette preemptively pulled the sheet away from her. “Wait a minute. You’re pulling a little prank of your own on me, aren’t you? You’re just trying to scare me!” She let out a little laugh. “You almost got me, too—you have a great deadpan delivery, you know…”

“You can look it up in the student handbook,” Leandra told her. “The work-study is an intensive examination of a student’s acquired magical skills in the field, at the end of which the credit-hours they attained during the past semester are officially awarded—posthumously if needed.”

“Oh, you have it memorized?” Odette asked, and she pulled out the little book she’d been given and flipped through it.

“Chapter three, section two, paragraph fourteen,” Leandra said. Odette flipped through the book to the relevant chapter, section, and paragraph, and—

She’d gotten it. Word-for-word. The work-study is an intensive examination of a student’s acquired magical skills in the field, at the end of which the credit-hours they attained during the past semester are officially awarded—posthumously if needed.

“Well, that’s stupid,” Odette said.

Leandra had already slipped the sheet away from her and taken her pen to it like a hatchet to a tree. “Per Dean Athelstan, you’re already signed up for Remedial Spellcasting 101—that’s three lecture and discussion sessions per week—and the Remedial Spellcasting Lab 102—that’s once per week—”

“I don’t need remedial classes, I’m a Great Witch—”

“I’ve heard. How good are you at math?”

“I know math,” Odette said defensively.

“Calculus I—a Tuesday-Thursday class—and Introduction to Mathematical Methods in Magic…”

“What does math have to do with magic?”

“You’ll find out. That’s eleven credit-hours in total. Now, I know you need a minimum of twelve—”

“Intro to Fried Ice Cream is two credit-hours, right?” Odette asked.

Her question fell on deaf ears. “But,” Leandra continued, “most students find themselves more adequately prepared for their work-study with a course load of fifteen to eighteen credit-hours, and if you have any plans to declare a major before your sophomore year—”

“I’m only staying here for one semester,” Odette snapped. “Give me that sheet!”

“Right,” Leandra said, not giving her the sheet. “I can hardly blame you. Well then, Odette, I have an idea for a fun class you could take to round out your semester.”

Odette already had doubts that Leandra knew the definition of the word ‘fun.’ “Okay?”

“Thaumaturgical Practices in Opera,” Leandra said. “It’s a once-a-week class, a three-hour discussion session held on Wednesday evenings—”

Nothing about that sentence sounded the least bit encouraging. “Pass,” Odette said.

Leandra rested her chin on her hand and pouted. “Hmm,” she hummed. “Its professor is very nice, and she grades generously—”

“If you sign me up for that, I’ll turn you into a pig,” Odette informed her.

Leandra was unfazed.

“I can do that,” she added. “I’m a Great Witch.” She chose to leave out that she couldn’t do it without one of the cursed flowers, which were no longer in her possession. “I turned the Dean into a warthog on my way here.”

Leandra looked across the room and caught sight of Dean Athelstan, who was chatting with a few other people who might have been faculty here.

“He got better,” Odette muttered, tapping her claws angrily against the table.

“No evening classes,” Leandra said, putting her attention back on the course selection sheet. “Understandable. Well, then, what sort of classes would interest you?”

“Ice cream interests me.”

She sighed. “I have an idea for an easy elective that will help you.”

“I’ll just go with the ice cream class.”

“Beginners’ Piano 101. Even very basic prowess with a musical instrument makes spellcasting much easier. It’s a simple class that will make your other classes less challenging.”

“Is it as easy as Introduction to Fried Ice Cream?”

Leandra let out a long, heavy sigh and wrote each class into the field at the bottom of the sheet. “With this course load,” she said, “you’ll be well served to survive this hellish place… one can only hope.” She handed the course selection sheet back to Odette. “Deliver this into the dean’s office by this time tomorrow, or else he will choose your entire course load for you. And he, I fear, shall not be so gentle or accommodating.”

Odette was more than glad to take that sheet back. “Thank you,” she said, and she looked through the course listing one more time. With this course load Leandra had checked off for her, she more than deserved a class that was all about appreciating fried frozen dairy delights. She checked the listing:

ART 111 – Introduction To Fried Ice Cream – 2 Credit-Hours – 11:15 AM Tuesday, Thursday

She checked the rest of her new courses.

MAG 101 – Remedial Spellcasting – 3 Credit-Hours – 11:45 AM Monday, Wednesday, Friday

MAG 102l – Remedial Spellcasting Lab – 1 Credit-Hour – 1:30 PM Friday

MATH 165 – Calculus I – 3 Credit-Hours – 11:00 AM Tuesday, Thursday

MAG 181 – Introduction to Mathematical Methods In Magic – 3 Credit-Hours – 3:00 PM Tuesday, Thursday

MUS 101 – Beginners’ Piano – 3 Credit-Hours – 3:15 PM Friday

She checked the times of each class carefully.

“Okay,” she said to Leandra, “I think this looks good. Thanks, Leandra.”

That night, she resolved, as soon as she got her paws on a pen of her own, she’d cross out ‘Calculus I’ and replace it with ‘Intro to Fried Ice Cream.’ It was the least she could do. And it would add up to twelve credit-hours exactly! She didn’t need to be Robert Burger to figure that one out in her head.

#willow's ocs #odette #leandra

[villagewildflowers]

I took a long walk in the sunshine along the Seine today and walked by Pont Saint-Michel, taking some pictures of it in modern-day; the place where that infamous photo was taken in 1961 during the Paris massacre of hundreds of Algerians, beaten and thrown into the river to drown or thrown in already beaten to death, as was written on the wall in French, ‘Here we drown Algerians’.

Today, tourist boats float past the bridge along the river, pointing at popular restaurants, monuments, churches and views; people grab a coffee or hot chocolate and meet at the bridge; tourists rush across the river in swarms to get to the currently-reconstructed Notre-Dame cathedral. I stood alone along that bridge for a long time, catching tourists passing me by and just staring at me wondering what I was doing.

#colonialism #Paris #fuck the French

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 18 July 1838

7 ¾

11 ½

Breakfast at 9 40 at which hour F74° - A- and I off to the chapelle de Héas at 11 ¾ - at the Pont de Sia at 12 52 – turned up the Gèdre dessus at 1 40 sending Pierre to the bureau de douane in Gèdre for a permit for the horses – declined giving a written one, saying that the 1st douanier we met would have a right to send us back if he chose – we risked this – I dismounted at 3(just after passing 3 or 4 of the large beautiful saxifrages – what we call sedems at home – growing out of the rock along the Gave de Héas – Charles said not a year growth yet – to look after them in 10 days hence) – dismounted at 3 and walked 25 minutes then mounted again for

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5 minutes and alighted at the Chapelle de Héas at 3 ½ - on seeing the chapel, recollected that I had been there in 1830 – very fine day – chapel a Greek cross - the great altar facing the door, and all gilded round about as in Spain – an altar in each little transept – really very neat – vaulted roof painted (or washed) imitation-brick-word with marbled ribs – boarded floor – walnut-wood wainscot all round about 7ft. high and above rude fresco painting – trees and houses – within a border – no regular curé – but service there on occasions and great many come en pélérinage to the shire of the virgin notre dame de Héas – the church under the care of a decent-looking rather elderly man satisfied with the franc I gave him for himself but which he said should be for the repairs of the church – It almost seemed as if the church belonged to him as a private property – over the altar (left transept on entering the church) Charles pointed out a rude representation on canvas of purgatory – we had had merely a peep of the cirque as we rode along, for, on coming out of the chapel – it was hid in brouillard – found A-‘s basket without noyau bottle and the 2 eggs too old boiled for her to eat – gave them to our sacristan who ate them up at once – went to the cottage not far off – ordered 4 eggs to be ready in ½ hour – it was however an hour before we sat down to them with bread (1/2 what ½ rye) and butter at the door, A- afraid of fleas in the house – Charles told me with delight that the woman had some vin de Carignan – alas! it was of inferior quality and tasted so strong of the skim it had been brought in that neither A- nor I could endure it – she ate 2 of the eggs and a little bread and butter and I ditto ditto and the other 2 eggs and tasted a little vin du pays (du côté de Tarbes) very fair wine – Charles and Pierre had had goats milk and bread and the woman so satisfied with the 1/50 I gave her that she gave Charles a little wine and would not let him pay anything – Off from Héas chapel at 5 25 – in 25 minutes (at 5 50) at the great rock dated

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1650 and said to have fallen from the opposite mountain in this year and with such force as to have sent it thus far up the mountain on the other side the valley – supposing nothing buried in the ground, this [?] mass would at least = 7x7 yards cube – Charles said as I believed in the virgin (had said in the church on being asked, that I believed she was the mother of our saviour Jesus Xst tho’ I did not believe in purgatory nor did the sacristan) he would tell me the history of this rock – that some méchans having stolen away the virgin from the chapel she alighted on the top of this rock elle s’arrêtât la and thence went back to the chapel – poor Charles evidently a believer and I said nothing to shew myself the contrary he Pierre did not know this history – I fancy Pierre is less credulous than poor Charles – I alighted at 5 55 at the rock and wrote these memoranda in pencil in my little rough book – A- was out of sight and on foot when I overtook her a little while afterwards – we walked together to Gèdre dessus – she mounted just after passing the bridge over the gave de [Cambiel], and I walked forwards – got much heated but without thinking followed the wider road all the way and got down to the bureau in Gèdre – this perhaps detained us 10 minutes – gave me a heating to get up with them a little beyond the road I ought to have taken and after 1 ½ hours’ walk I remounted my horse at 7 25 and rode all the rest of the way – it was about 8 when we reached the Pont de Sia and met there a fat gentleman and 2 ladies and a child or 2 and a priest – when and how would they get back to St. Sauveur? – at home at 9 10 – the servants had had no dinner had expected us every moment – dinner at 9 25 and each came to our room at 10 20 A- seeming not more tired than usual – very fine day F72° at 10 20 pm sat looking at my map (Charpentiers’) of the Pyrenees –

[saidelia-draconis]

☤ - a memory of death/loss

The dim light of torches flanked Saidelia's slow shuffle through the grand hallway. Her footfalls echoed with each clank of her steel boots on the stone floor. Every so often she'd shiver as a hollow suit of armor glowered down at her through the slats in its visor. Her progress was slow and full of dread. She had been called into the office of a field commander for reasons unknown to her and the worst immediately sprung to mind. What had she done wrong? What was she to be chided for this time?

She approached the door. Dark, and foreboding. The door seemed to stretch out before her, towering to the edge of her vision. The handle seemed almost out of reach when she reached out for it. She drew her shaky, seemingly infinitesimally small hand into a clenched fist, knocking on the door without rhythm. Panic surged through her as the knob of the door slowly turned, a stern-looking older woman glowering down at her. Her gaze softened as she peered down at Saidelia. She slowly stepped back, widening the crack in the door and beckoning gently.

"Oh, Saidelia... right? It's nice to meet you. Field commander Halveth. Please, call me Catherine. Come in."

Saidelia stood nervously in the doorframe for a few moments before Catherine's hand firmly guided her across the threshold and into a chair. She sat motionless yet poised, like a bristling cat waiting for an aggressor to move. Her wide, fearful eyes. She didn't dare speak. The woman spoke assertively but tried to keep her demeanor as gentle as possible.

"It's nice to meet you, Saidelia. You seem a little apprehensive, is there anything I can perhaps get you? I'm afraid I don't entertain squires - or really anyone your age - often. I have tea... or do you drink coffee? I'd like you to know you're not here for discipline."

The young paladin continued to gawp at the older woman, only just starting to let her guard down at the woman's assurance. She slouched slightly, trying to look unimposing; it certainly worked. She nervously traced the stitching of her doublet, the girl trying to muster up the words to address the knight so superior to her.

"No ma'am-- uh, sir. Nothing, thanks."

"Catherine is fine, Saidelia. I'll put on a pot just in case. If you want some, you're more than welcome. I've been following your progress. Sir Dominicus' squire. I've always thought him to be quite capable. I see he taught you well."

"Yes Catherine, sir."

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose, refraining from correcting the girl. She busied herself with tea. When the pot was finally ready, she poured Saidelia a cup, setting it out on her desk in front of the girl. She prepared none for herself.

"It's my understanding that you were supposed to be with him during the attack on the Wrathgate until you fell ill. I hope you're feeling alright today."

"Yes Sir Catherine. Dame Catherine, sorry."

Catherine clasped her hands together, leaning forward with an uncomfortable smile, maintaining her stiff, friendly facade.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Saidelia. I was in your position many, many years ago. I'd like you to know that I'm a friend. Someone you can trust. That's why it pains me to be the one to tell you."

The commander cleared her throat, stealing some of the tea she had poured for the young paladin, quaffing it as though it were some kind of alcohol. It did little to steel her nerves.

"Saidelia, I'm sorry to tell you this. We suffered losses in the battle. Heavy losses. To the point where we're scaling back our operation in the Dragonblight region. There will be an official report to come tomorrow. Given your... unique situation, I wanted to sit down with you personally and offer my support. For what it's worth. I'm... sorry."

Saidelia stared in stunned silence, The girl felt the floor shift and fall out from under her. She felt gutted; as if everything but her emotions were suddenly spilling out in front of her. She instinctively reached toward her belly, trying to reconnect with her corporeal self. It felt like someone else's hand. Someone else's tunic. She stared past Catherine and out the window. The sunlight made her feel dizzy.

She couldn't tell how long she had been dazedly ignoring the reality in front of her. When she managed to focus on the present once again, she was met with Commander Halveth's sad, concerned, smile. She awkwardly reached out towards Saidelia's hand left on the desk. The touch felt foreign.

"I'm truly sorry, Saidelia. For what it's worth, I wish I was more comfort. What can I do to help?"

"I don't know." Her voice seemed not her own. A puppet's trying to take her place, urging her forward. "And sir Dominicus?"

"Missing. Presumed deceased. I wish I could tell you otherwise." The woman sounded somber, almost as pained as the young squire was. "I'm afraid there are some affairs to tend to. It's certainly not tradition - but these are far from ideal times. And in times like these, we take our circumstances into consideration. The war we thought would end today is far from over. We're in a bit of a bind, given how few knights we have left. Sir Dominicus seemed to think you weren't going to be ready for another few years, defer to his leadership. As of today, that is me."

Catherine's discomfort was evident, given her roundabout way of speaking. She uttered a deep, nasal sigh, rubbing her palms together as she regarded Saidelia. The girl stared back uncertainly, breaking eye contact every so often as her eyes darted suspiciously around the room.

"What I'm trying to say, Saidelia is that given everything that has happened, you and a few other squires are receiving your titles early. We're holding small ceremonies over the next few days before we give you your next assignment. I would say congratulations are in order, though I somehow doubt you feel much like celebrating."

Catherine stood up from her desk, crossing the divide between the two and placing a hand on Saidelia's shoulder. Her movements were awkward and stilted. Saidelia paid no mind to her, staring at the panes of the window behind the commander's now empty chair. The frost-rimed glass glittered in the dying afternoon light. Everything seemed more muted. The anxiety that had filled the girl twisted into an all-encompassing despair, a numbness that seemed to expand with each passing second. The woman spoke, attempting her best to soothe the young paladin.

"I know this is the first time you've lost someone you've served with. I wish I could tell you things were alright. All I can say is I know how it feels. Especially when they're close to you. You never really get over it, but I promise in time you'll learn how to keep the grief at bay."

Catherine resumed her seat, staring piteously at the silent girl. Saidelia could hardly meet the woman's gaze now, looking forward without seeing. Her thoughts were beyond the room that the two shared. The commander seemed to understand, half speaking to herself.

"I'm sorry you have to hear this from me. I wish I was more comforting. I know it isn't much, but given your situation, I've arranged the team you'll be working with. My cousin Daniel will be under your command. I've advised him of your situation. He's an ass, but I've confidence he'll help you develop as a knight. Long as you don't let him push you around. If there's anything I can do for you in the next few days, please don't hesitate. My door is always open."

(Thanks for the ask, @wandering-mesa! Sorry it took me 670 days to finish; not that anyone's counting. Wherever you are, I hope things are going well.)

#Asks #Backstory #Prompts #Writing

[artificialqueens]

More Devoted: Night Walks (Katlaska) - Kamylove

A beautiful night and a difficult conversation.

A/N: Another entry in my collection of Katlaska one-shot ficlets. As if anybody but me is still interested in Katlaska! 

They had one midsummer night together in Paris. It was like a fucking movie. It was a fucking movie, if either of them had the grace of Julie Delpy. Katya had flown in that afternoon for a show tomorrow and had the night off; Alaska had a show that night and a morning flight.

“Where are we going?" Katya asked, by the exit at the back of the theater.

Alaska was still in full makeup and had entrusted everything but the clothes she was wearing to the tour manager, to take back to the hotel. She was exhausted but didn't want to sleep. "No idea," she said. "Just walk."

So they set off, hand in hand, no more unable to break contact now than they had been in the dressing room between Alaska's numbers.

The Marais felt like a carnival with beautiful men and thumping music. They wandered with few words, partly aimlessly and partly south. They stopped for both gelato and crème glacée, determined to say once and for all which was better. (They failed.) In each shop Katya ordered in what sounded to Alaska like flawless French, though she knew Katya despaired of her accent.

"I apologized to the glacière for my unforgivable Americanness," Katya said as they started walking with their cones. "She said, 'Oui, monsieur. Quel dommage.'"

"She was joking." Alaska only knew a few words of French, but she knew a lot about tone and body language. "Even I could tell that!"

They crossed the Rue de Rivoli and passed the Hôtel de Ville before stopping on the bridge, for the scenery and a bit of a make out session. Alaska slid her free hand into Katya's back pocket.

Katya licked Alaska's lower lip and asked, "Are you sure you don’t want to go back?"

Their tours were managed by the same company; they had rooms in the same hotel; and as usual they’d only had a few fast, naked moments together in one of them before Alaska's show. 

"I'll sleep on the plane," Alaska said, and kissed Katya again. "Oh, fuck, the ice cream!"

Citron was melting over her hand. She lapped it up what she could around the top of the cone. "I can’t even finish this," she said.

Katya took it from her and tossed it in the river. Then she raised Alaska's hand to her mouth and licked it clean, staring flirtatiously into Alaska's eyes.

“Do you want to go back?" Alaska asked.

Katya just started walking again, leading Alaska by the hand in the opposite direction from their hotel. Alaska laughed, relieved. 

They passed the scaffolded, looming hulk of Notre Dame, then they walked a bit along the river before deciding they both needed caffeine. A quick search on Google Maps led them to a late-night cafe in the Latin Quarter, where they settled into chairs on the same side of an outdoor table.

Alaska was not a fan of coffee, but she was a fan of staying awake. Katya ordered two espressos, again in French.

"See?" Alaska said. "He didn’t even notice your unforgivable Americanness."

Katya looked at her with faux pity. "He’s Greek. The accent is obvious. Can’t take you anywhere."

You can take me everywhere, Alaska thought, but she didn’t say it. There was no point. 

The Latin Quarter was as busy as the Marais: no one else wanted to be inside, either. They watched the world walk past and eavesdropped on an academic argument taking place in British and Australian English at a nearby table.

"Fuck, I love France," Katya said. "Pretty sure she’s wrong about the late medieval economy of Lisbon, though."

Alaska laughed. Katya had never taken an economics class in her life and had kept her savings in a thermos before Drag Race.

They fell silent while they finished their espresso. One half of the English-speaking table left, and the other half pulled out a laptop and a book.

The silence, comfortable at first, turned oppressive. Katya was tapping her foot under the table and had Alaska's hand in hers, lightly drumming on each of Alaska's fingers in order and back again, over and over.

"I hate this," Alaska finally said.

Katya didn’t stop tapping or drumming. "I know."

"I hate sleeping alone. I hate missing you all the time."

"I know."

"It’s not like it was before."

"No, it’s not." She let go of Alaska's hand.

Quarantine. Quarantine had changed everything. 

Before 2020, they'd never known what it was like to have more than a few weeks together at a time. Now they did. Now they’d slept in the same bed, almost every night, for more than a year.

Katya shrugged and said, "We knew it would be like this when we got together." 

"No, we didn’t," Alaska said. "We knew what it used to be like. We didn’t know what it would be like now."

"That is a very confusing set of statements."

"Don't be an ass. You know what I mean. When do we say enough is enough?"

Katya blew out a long breath. "Maybe right now."

Alaska turned to stare at her. "What?"

The waiter approached and asked them if they wanted anything else. Katya briskly ordered another espresso for her and a fizzy water for Alaska. Then, realizing how brisk she'd been, she more politely ordered a pain au chocolat.

"Maybe we need to start saying no," Katya said when the waiter had left. "We're the only people who won't let us say no." 

"We’re both booked through next year," Alaska said. In their excitement about getting out in front of audiences again, they’d been a little overzealous with the scheduling. And they really were bad at saying no.

"Obviously we're not going to break any commitments, because we're us," Katya said. "Maybe reschedule a few, but beyond that. No, unless you want both of us. Or no, unless the other one is also free to travel."

"The same commitments," Alaska mused. "The same schedule?"

They'd talked about it before, not seriously, but in passing. With a sigh and a wouldn't it be nice?

"Why the hell not?" Katya said. "Our friends bring their boyfriends along all the time. Why can't we?"

The waiter returned. Katya said, "Merci, monsieur," and Alaska smiled and also said, badly, "Merci."

They each tore off a bite of the croissant and chewed thoughtfully. Alaska noticed a pair of lovers at a far table, sitting with their arms entwined and eyes locked, silently screaming let's go home and fuck.

"It would mean going public," Alaska said. 

"You're the one who has a problem with that." With a sigh, Katya added, "I miss you, too, but if you still want to wait, we'll wait."

"No, I--"

"And you're the one who brought it up."

Alaska could tell that Katya's brain was operating a millisecond faster than her own. It happened sometimes. She tried to catch up. "I know, but--"

"Either we keep complaining," Katya said, though most of the complaints came from Alaska because Katya shockingly had more zen or possibly maturity about shit like this, "or we shut up and do something about it."

That was true. Alaska sighed and when she said nothing, Katya added, "I'm sure about us. Aren't you?"

"Of course I'm sure." For a long time Alaska had wanted privacy because her breakup with Sharon had been public and messy, but her relationship with Katya was anything but messy. The people in their real lives had known forever, and the fans already thought they knew. Still... "We haven’t always enjoyed touring together." 

Katya jumped on that. She was losing her zen. "Now who's being an ass? We haven't tried touring together lately. Would we rather be in each other's space and argue about who lost the key card and who's keeping who awake, or be apart and hardly have time to talk? I know which one I'd choose." 

Her ears were red and it was spreading to her face. Alaska grabbed her hand.

"I'm not arguing with you," Alaska said. "This is not an argument. I'm just thinking about contingencies."

Katya's hand relaxed in Alaska's, and the tension in her face melted into fondness. "Of course you are. Because you're you and you think before you reach the cliff, and I'm me and I've already plunged right to the bottom." She punctuated that by miming a soaring fall and a crash with her free hand.

"Why we complement each other," Alaska said with a smile.

"Why we drive each other crazy," Katya said.

"Sometimes." Alaska tore off a piece of croissant and put it in Katya's mouth.

"Is that your way of saying we've made a decision?" Katya asked as she chewed.

"It's my way of making you smile. But yes. Let's make a call as soon as it's business hours in LA. What's that look for?"

Katya was scowling. "You'll already be two countries away when it's business hours in LA. Zoom call."

"Story of our life," Alaska said, "for now." She gave Katya a quick kiss. "Let's finish up and walk some more. I'm going to get sleepy soon."

"Hotel?" Katya asked as she pulled some Euros out of her wallet to leave on the table.

Alaska shook her head. "I want to be conscious the whole time you're here. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Katya said. "C'est magnifique! C'est parfait! C'est formidable!" 

"Je t'aime, you fucking weirdo."

#rpdr fanfiction #alaska thunderfuck #katya zamolodchikova #katlaska #canon compliant #fluff #devoted #kamylove

[meditationretreatsvietnam]

Vietnam Insight

Embark on a journey of tranquility and cultural exploration with our meditation tour in Vietnam. Combining breathtaking scenic wonders and rich cultural experiences, our tour offers deep meditation sessions to seek inner peace and happiness. ​Day 1: HOCHIMINH CITY

Today, you will embark on a leisurely walking tour of downtown, also known as District One. You’ll have the opportunity to view some impressive colonial-era structures, including Notre Dame Cathedral and the General Post Office, both designed by Gustave Eiffel. After that, we will continue to Reunification Hall, historically known as Independence Palace, where you can tour the former nerve center of the war for South Vietnam. Later, we’ll visit the bustling Ben Thanh Market for some shopping.

This morning, we will drive to Cao Dai Temples in Tay Ninh to witness the midday service. Tay Ninh, situated near the Cambodian border, is the home of the unique Cao Dai sect. The Cao Dai Temple at Tay Ninh is often described as a Walt Disney fantasia of the East due to its vibrant and ornate architecture. Our trip to Tay Ninh will also include a visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels. During the height of the conflict, this tunnel system stretched over 250km from Saigon to the Cambodian border, consisting of three levels. The network comprised numerous trap doors, living areas, storage facilities, weapons factories, field hospitals, command centers, and kitchens.

Upon arrival, we will board a boat and cruise along narrow waterways adorned with lush vegetation. Our journey will take us to various places, including the fish wharf and the four famous islands named Dragon, Unicorn, Turtle, and Phoenix. At one point, we will visit a candy workshop, and later, we will continue our adventure on a traditional sampan, gliding through the serene canals and picturesque mangrove forests. Here, we can witness the skilled fishermen laying their fish traps.

In the morning, we will visit the summer residence of Vietnam’s last Emperor Bao Dai, the Lam Ty Ni Pagoda, Hang Nga Guesthouse, and Truc Lam Thien Vien Pagoda. After that, we will have some free time before transferring to the airport for our flight to Danang.

Once in Danang, we will proceed to Hoi An, a recognized World Heritage Site known for its ancient architecture, featuring a unique blend of Vietnamese, Chinese, and Japanese styles dating back to the 16th century. During our time in Hoi An, we will enjoy a sunset boat trip along the tranquil Thu Bon River, allowing us to witness the local life on both sides of the river.

In the morning, we will embark on a cycling adventure, passing by picturesque mulberry fences, flower gardens.

Our cycling route will lead us to the renowned Tra Que vegetable and herbal village, where traditional methods of vegetable cultivation are practiced. The village’s fertile soil, nourished by the two river branches, allows the locals to maintain vibrant vegetable gardens. As we explore the village, we will be captivated by the beautiful scenery and the various vegetables grown in distinct beds. You’ll even get to experience life as a real farmer by working in one of the vegetable gardens.

Continuing our journey along the scenic road, we’ll pass through the water coconut area, situated among the river’s many branches. We will pause for a few moments to take photos and, out of respect, maintain a moment of silence to acknowledge the historical significance of this area during the Vietnam War, as the tour guide shares its stories.

In the afternoon, we’ll return to Hoi An for a delightful stroll through the ancient town, which boasts a rich history of over 600 years. During our visit, we’ll explore the 200-year-old Tan Ky house, the Phuc Kien Pagoda, the Assembly Hall, and the former merchants’ houses. We’ll also marvel at the 400-year-old Japanese Covered Bridge and immerse ourselves in the vibrant atmosphere of the riverside market.

Driving to Hue, Vietnam’s last feudal capital, which has been recognized as a World Cultural Heritage Site since 1993. We will visit the Imperial Citadel, the Purple Forbidden City, and explore the bustling Dong Ba market.

Begin your day by savoring a delightful breakfast in the hotel while immersing yourself in the charm of this ancient land. Next, you will board a private boat for a romantic cruise along the Perfume River, visiting the enchanting Lady Pagoda (Thien Mu Pagoda) and the ornate Minh Mang’s tomb.

Following the river cruise, you will be transferred to the airport for your flight to Hanoi.

After a short break upon arrival, you will embark on a captivating cyclo tour to explore the fascinating Old Quarter with its myriad of specialty shops. These shops offer a wide array of items, including silk clothing, lacquerware, embroidered linens, furniture, bamboo products, cooking utensils, ceremonial objects, and much more. The Old Quarter’s vibrant atmosphere and bustling streets will undoubtedly leave a lasting impression.

In the evening, you will have the pleasure of enjoying the traditional water puppet show, a unique and delightful Vietnamese art form. The performance will add a touch of cultural richness to your day.

Full-day private city tour. The post-colonial capital city of Hanoi is a unique Asian city Full-day private city tour. Hanoi, the post-colonial capital city, boasts a unique blend of Asian charm with tree-lined boulevards, French colonial architecture, serene lakes, pagodas, and temples. This comprehensive tour will take you to the most intriguing sights of Hanoi, starting with the Ho Chi Minh Complex, which includes Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum, his Stilt House, the Presidential Palace, and the nearby One Pillar Pagoda.

Next, we’ll visit the scenic Westlake and the Tran Quoc Pagoda, followed by a trip to Van Mieu or the Temple of Literature, an ancient site dating back to 1070, dedicated to the veneration of Confucius. Our journey continues with a visit to the infamous Hoa Lo Prison, historically referred to as the “Hanoi Hilton” by prisoners of war during the Vietnam War.

We’ll then explore the beautiful Hoan Kiem Lake, known as the Lake of the Restored Sword. To experience the essence of Hanoi’s bustling life, we’ll take a cyclo tour through the captivating Old Quarter, where you’ll find a myriad of specialty shops selling silk clothing, lacquerware, embroidered linens, furniture, bamboo crafts, cooking utensils, ceremonial objects, and much more.

Overland to Ha Long Bay, which has been twice awarded the title of World Natural Heritage Site by UNESCO’s World Heritage Committee in 1994 and 2000. Upon arrival, we’ll check-in, enjoy a welcome drink, and receive a cruise briefing. Afterward, we’ll have lunch while cruising to explore the breathtaking Ha Long Bay, one of Vietnam’s most wondrous and scenic sights. Prepare to be amazed by the picturesque scenery, with over 3,000 limestone islets emerging magnificently from the clear and emerald waters. The bay is adorned with hundreds of peerless karst formations, beautiful grottoes, and caves.

Wake up on the bay to the soothing sounds of waves and birds welcoming the new day. You will have the opportunity to witness the stunning sunrise over the bay while enjoying an invigorating Tai Chi session on the sundeck. After breakfast, we will visit a beautiful limestone grotto, followed by a leisurely walk back to the boat to capture a final glimpse of Halong Bay as we cruise back to the dock.

Escape the hustle and bustle of the chaotic world and immerse yourself in the present moment by directing your thoughts and emotions towards the purified land. Our special trip offers you the opportunity to rediscover your true self and experience inner peace and clarity through the practice of Buddhism.

The program included:

Buddha’s golden lessons

The art of touching peace

Peace in every step

Mindful breathing

Secret favour

Mindful talking

Compassionate practicing

Grateful meal

You have some free time before we transfer you to the airport for your departure flight. This marks the end of our services.

Our meditation retreats and tours cater to a wide spectrum of travelers, including those with limited time constraints and those seeking profound experiences.

#meditation tour

[66-bl1tz-kr13g-fr1tz]

//The Wire//2130Z April 16, 2024//

//ROUTINE//

//BLUF: FIRE DESTROYS HISTORIC BUILDING IN DENMARK. CONCERN REMAINS IN SYDNEY REGARDING RECENT ATTACKS.//

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-International Events-

Denmark: The Børsen Stock Exchange building in Copenhagen caught fire this morning. This building complex was being renovated, and at the time parts of the structure were serving as office space for the Chamber of Commerce. No injuries were reported. AC: It is too soon to determine the cause of the fire. This building, originally completed in 1625, was a major local landmark in Copenhagen. However, it is noteworthy that the fire broke out exactly on the 5th anniversary of another infamous fire, the fire which destroyed a large portion of the Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris in 2019.

Australia: The situation in Sydney remains tense following the stabbing attacks of recent days. Australia’s governmental E-Safety Commissioner has ordered Facebook and X to censor the stabbing video of Bishop Mar Mari Emmanuel from their platforms entirely, citing unrest concerns.

-HomeFront-

USA: Yesterday’s A15 protests largely resolved in similar fashion as before, following the brief disruptions of traffic at various strategic transportation centers. The Brooklyn and Golden Gate Bridges were targeted for disruption, though both demonstrations were resolved after some time as usual. The disruptions at Chicago O’Hare International Airport were resolved as well.

Pennsylvania: A fire broke out at the Scranton Army Ammunition Plant yesterday afternoon. Though this facility is a major military arms and explosives production facility, the fire was minor and brought under control quickly by firefighters. The cause of this fire is unknown, and an investigation is underway.

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Analyst Comments: As is common throughout most governmental systems around the world, every tragedy shall serve as a vehicle by which policy can stand. In Australia, the censoring of content regarding the attempted assassination of a prominent Christian Bishop is not unexpected, but indirectly confirms the boiling point that many societies are reaching. Australian authorities banning the evidence of the attack strongly implies that anyone who sees the content will be outraged, and may take actions of their own. Similar messages are lost by the immediate push to get through the latest batch of knife-control legislation…actions that by now are a massive swing-and-a-miss with regards to the atmospherics and social leanings of those in society who have already been pushed to their absolute limit over the past few years. By choosing to focus on “radical” elements, Australian politicians and authorities are ignoring the “radicalizing” elements/events in the first place, and by cracking down on the former authorities admit the latter does exist.

Analyst: S2A1

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