#elsa in oft

[ifindus]

tror det er en av grunnene til at jeg ikke likte disney's frozen sånn veldig (som er basert på norsk kultur), fordi troll i norske eventyr er kjent for å være onde og ofte spise mennesker, jeg satt der i kinosalen og lurte på hvorfor de var snille like???? de ligna også mer på sånne danske "lykketroll" blanda med norske lmao. hadde vært mye bedre om det var en plot twist på slutten hvor de egt. lurte Elsa eller no sånt

Sant 😅 føler Hollywood ofte liker å plukke og mikse når det kommer til Skandinavisk kultur osv. Historien i seg selv er jo dansk, men den er veldig tydelig satt i Norge - men igjen med mer danske troll 😛 syntes «bunadene» i filmen var tragiske også…

[exunnesli1985]

alle disney figuren

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alle disney figuren

Disney-Figuren sind seit Jahrzehnten Teil der Popkultur und haben unsere Kindheit geprägt. Von wunderschönen Prinzessinnen bis hin zu lustigen Tieren gibt es eine breite Palette von Figuren, die uns in verschiedenen Filmen begeistert haben. Hier ist eine Liste einiger Disney-Figuren, die uns verzaubert haben:

Micky Maus und Minnie Maus: Die wohl bekanntesten Disney-Figuren sind das charmante Mäusepaar Micky und Minnie. Sie haben uns mit ihren Abenteuern und ihrer zeitlosen Liebe immer wieder begeistert.

Donald Duck: Mit seinem berühmten sprudelnden Temperament ist Donald Duck einer der liebenswertesten Disney-Charaktere. Er hat seine eigenen Comics und wurde auch in vielen animierten Filmen zum Publikumsliebling.

Cinderella: Als eine der beliebtesten Prinzessinnen hat Cinderella die Herzen von Millionen erobert. Mit ihrer Geschichte über Durchhaltevermögen und den Glauben an Träume hat sie uns gezeigt, dass Wunder möglich sind.

Simba: Der mutige Löwenjunge Simba war der Star des Films "Der König der Löwen". Seine Reise von der Sorglosigkeit seiner Kindheit bis hin zur Übernahme der Verantwortung als König hat uns inspiriert.

Elsa und Anna: Die Schwestern aus dem Film „Die Eiskönigin - Völlig unverfroren“ haben weltweit Furore gemacht. Elsa mit ihren eisigen Fähigkeiten und Anna, die sich auf die Suche nach ihrer Schwester begibt, haben uns gezeigt, was Familie und wahre Liebe bedeuten können.

Aladdin: Der charmante Straßendieb Aladdin und seine magische Lampe haben uns in eine zauberhafte Welt entführt und uns gelehrt, dass man nur an sich selbst glauben muss, um Hindernisse zu überwinden.

Belle: Die Hauptfigur aus "Die Schöne und das Biest" ist nicht nur schön, sondern auch klug und mutig. Ihre Liebe für das Biest zeigt uns, dass wahre Schönheit von innen kommt.

Diese Liste ist nur ein kleiner Auszug aus der Vielzahl an Disney-Figuren, die uns im Laufe der Jahre begeistert haben. Ob es nun tierische Freunde wie Timon und Pumbaa sind oder Figuren aus Märchen wie Schneewittchen und Dornröschen - Disney hat uns immer wieder in fantastische Geschichten entführt und dabei zeitlose Figuren geschaffen, die uns weiterhin verzaubern.

Beliebte Disney Figuren

Disney-Figuren haben seit Generationen die Herzen vieler Menschen erobert. Von klassischen Charakteren bis hin zu modernen Helden, jedes Jahrzehnt brachte neue beliebte Figuren hervor, die uns mit ihren einzigartigen Charakterzügen und Geschichten begeistern.

Einer der bekanntesten Disney-Charaktere ist Micky Maus. Seit seiner Einführung im Jahr 1928 hat Micky die Welt im Sturm erobert. Mit seinen großen runden Ohren, weißen Handschuhen und der roten Hose ist er zum Inbegriff des Disney-Zaubers geworden. Micky hat in zahlreichen Filmen mitgespielt, darunter auch in dem berühmten "Steamboat Willie".

Ein weiterer beliebter Charakter ist Donald Duck. Er ist bekannt für seine entzückende Stimme und seine temperamentvolle Persönlichkeit. Im Vergleich zu Micky ist Donald oft etwas ungeschickter, aber dennoch ein liebenswerter Charakter. Donald Duck ist vor allem für seine Abenteuer in Entenhausen und seine Rolle in Filmen wie "Das Dschungelbuch" und "DuckTales" bekannt.

Ein weiterer Disney-Favorit ist die Prinzessin Cinderella. Diese ikonische Figur wurde durch den gleichnamigen Film aus dem Jahr 1950 berühmt. Cinderella träumt davon, ihrem tristen Alltag zu entfliehen und ihrem Traumprinzen zu begegnen. Ihre Geschichte hat Generationen von Kindern fasziniert und ist ein Beispiel für die ewige Hoffnung und den Glauben an Wunder.

In den letzten Jahrzehnten haben moderne Disney-Figuren wie Elsa und Anna aus "Die Eiskönigin" die Herzen von Kindern und Erwachsenen gleichermaßen erobert. Der Erfolg dieses Films war phänomenal, und die Figuren haben eine ganze Generation von Fans inspiriert. Elsa mit ihren magischen Kräften und Anna als mutige Heldin sind Vorbilder für viele junge Mädchen geworden.

Disney hat eine große Auswahl an beliebten Figuren hervorgebracht, die uns mit ihren einzigartigen Geschichten begeistern und uns in fantastische Welten entführen. Von den Klassikern wie Micky Maus und Donald Duck bis hin zu modernen Helden wie Elsa und Anna werden diese Charaktere für immer Teil der Disney-Magie bleiben.

Disney-Filme haben uns im Laufe der Jahre viele unvergessliche Charaktere beschert. Von liebenswerten Prinzessinnen bis hin zu lustigen Tieren - die Disney-Welt ist voll von faszinierenden Persönlichkeiten. Hier sind drei Disney-Charaktere in alphabetischer Reihenfolge, die Generationen von Menschen jeden Alters begeistert haben.

Aladdin: Aladdin ist ein charmanter Straßenjunge aus Agrabah, der im gleichnamigen Disney-Film die Hauptrolle spielt. Sein Hauptaugenmerk liegt darauf, seine Liebe zu Jasmin zu gewinnen und den hinterhältigen Zauberer Jafar zu besiegen. Begleitet von seinem treuen Affen Abu und dem sympathischen Flaschengeist Genie erlebt Aladdin ein aufregendes Abenteuer voller Magie und Romantik.

Belle: Belle, auch bekannt als Belle aus "Die Schöne und das Biest", ist eine intelligente und empathische junge Frau. Sie ist für ihre schöne Stimme und ihre Liebe zu Büchern bekannt. Belle ist mutig und bereit, das Biest zu lieben, das in Wirklichkeit ein verwunschener Prinz ist. Dieser zeitlose Charakter lehrt uns, dass wahre Schönheit von innen kommt.

Cinderella: Cinderella ist eine der klassischsten Disney-Prinzessinnen aller Zeiten. Sie ist bekannt für ihre sanfte und gutherzige Natur. Das Aschenputtel-Märchen erzählt die Geschichte einer jungen Frau, die von ihrer Stiefmutter und ihren Stiefschwestern schlecht behandelt wird. Doch mit Hilfe ihrer guten Fee erhält sie die Chance, auf einem königlichen Ball den Prinzen zu treffen. Cinderella steht für Ausdauer und Hoffnung, dass Träume wahr werden können.

Diese drei Disney-Charaktere sind nur einige Beispiele für die Vielfalt und Magie, die Disney-Filme bieten. Jeder von ihnen hat seine eigene einzigartige Geschichte und hinterlässt einen bleibenden Eindruck bei den Zuschauern. Egal, ob jung oder alt, die Disney-Welt hat für jeden etwas zu bieten und hat sich fest im Herzen vieler Menschen verankert.

Disney Helden und Schurken

Disney-Filme sind für ihre unvergesslichen Charaktere bekannt, sei es als mutige Helden oder skrupellose Schurken. In diesem Artikel werfen wir einen Blick auf vier unvergessliche Disney-Helden und -Schurken, die uns in ihren Bann gezogen haben.

Hercules - Der tapfere Held: Hercules ist eine der beliebtesten Figuren aus dem Disney-Universum. Als Sohn des Gottes Zeus und der Sterblichen Hera kämpft Hercules gegen allerlei Gefahren und beweist stets seinen Mut und seine Stärke. Sein Streben nach Anerkennung und das Überwinden von Hindernissen macht ihn zu einem wahren Disney-Helden.

Scar - Der schurkische Löwe: Scar aus "Der König der Löwen" verkörpert einen der hinterhältigsten Schurken in der Geschichte von Disney. Als Bruder von Mufasa hat er nichts Gutes im Sinn. Scar hintergeht seine eigene Familie und ergreift die Macht, um über das Königreich zu herrschen. Er ist ein faszinierender und gleichzeitig angsteinflößender Charakter, der uns lehrt, dass Ehrlichkeit und Loyalität von großer Bedeutung sind.

Mulan - Die kämpferische Heldin: Mulan aus dem gleichnamigen Film ist eine starke und mutige Heldin, die sich als Mann verkleidet, um für ihr Land in den Krieg zu ziehen. Sie beweist, dass Geschlechterrollen irrelevant sind und jeder das Potenzial hat, Großes zu erreichen. Mulan ist ein Vorbild für viele junge Mädchen und zeigt, dass man mit Entschlossenheit und Mut Hindernisse überwinden kann.

Ursula - Die tückische Meerhexe: Ursula ist eine der bekanntesten Disney-Schurken aus "Die kleine Meerjungfrau". Als Meerhexe verführt sie Ariel mit ihrem finsteren Plan, um ihre eigene Macht zu stärken. Ursula ist ein Paradebeispiel dafür, wie Täuschung und Manipulation zu großen Problemen führen können. Ihr charakteristisches Aussehen und ihre manipulative Natur machen sie zu einer unvergesslichen Disney-Schurkin.

Disney-Filme sind voller einprägsamer Charaktere, sei es als Helden oder Schurken. Diese vier Beispiele verdeutlichen die Vielfalt und Faszination, die Disney-Figuren in die Welt bringen. Egal ob Held oder Schurke, sie alle tragen zur Magie der Disney-Filme bei und begeistern Zuschauer jeden Alters.

Disney-Prinzessinnen und -Prinzen sind für viele Menschen auf der ganzen Welt eine Quelle der Faszination und Inspiration. Von Schneewittchen bis hin zu Elsa, diese Charaktere haben Generationen verzaubert und ihre Geschichten sind zeitlose Klassiker geworden.

Schneewittchen: Schneewittchen war die erste Disney-Prinzessin und hat den Weg für alle anderen geebnet. Mit ihrer liebenswürdigen und freundlichen Art zeigt sie uns, dass wahre Schönheit von innen kommt.

Cinderella: Cinderella ist eine klassische Geschichte über Traum und Hoffnung. Mit ihrer Tapferkeit und Bescheidenheit symbolisiert sie den Glauben daran, dass Träume wahr werden können.

Ariel: Die kleine Meerjungfrau Ariel verzaubert uns mit ihrer Neugier und Abenteuerlust. Sie lehrt uns, dass es wichtig ist, unseren eigenen Weg zu gehen und für unsere Träume zu kämpfen.

Belle: Belle aus "Die Schöne und das Biest" ist bekannt für ihre Schönheit und ihren außergewöhnlichen Verstand. Sie zeigt uns, dass wahre Liebe hinter äußerlichen Erscheinungen zu finden ist.

Elsa: Elsa ist vielleicht die bekannteste Disney-Prinzessin der letzten Jahre. Mit ihrem Mut, sich selbst treu zu bleiben und ihre Kräfte zu akzeptieren, inspiriert sie uns dazu, unsere eigenen Stärken anzunehmen.

Diese fünf Disney-Prinzessinnen und -Prinzen haben die Herzen zahlreicher Fans erobert und sind beliebte Figuren in der Popkultur geworden. Ihre Geschichten lehren uns wertvolle Lektionen über Mut, Liebe und das Streben nach Glück. Egal, ob jung oder alt, diese Charaktere bleiben uns in Erinnerung und inspirieren uns dazu, unsere eigenen Träume zu verfolgen.

[dermontag]

Petkovic "smart" in Paris weiter Kerber entgeht Erstrunden-Blamage haarscharf 23.05.2022, 22:06 Uhr Andrea Petkovic trainiert jetzt smart und zieht so überzeugend in die zweite Runde der French Open. Deutlich mehr Mühe beim Auftakt in Paris hat Angelique Kerber, die sogar Matchbälle abwehren muss. Dann aber gelingt ihr erstmals seit 2018 ein Sieg in Roland Garros. Angelique Kerber war am Ende mit ihren Kräften. Die deutsche Spitzenspielerin musste zwei Matchbälle abwehren und schaffte unter der lauten Anfeuerung des Publikums nach drei bitteren Erstrundenpleiten erstmals wieder den Sprung in die zweite Runde der French Open. Zwei Tage nach dem Gewinn ihres insgesamt 14. Tour-Titels in Straßburg setzte sich die frühere Weltranglistenerste trotz eines kapitalen Fehlstarts in einem echten Nervenkrimi mit 2:6, 6:3, 7:5 gegen die Polin Magdalena Frech durch. Nach 2:28 Stunden verwandelte Kerber ihren zweiten Matchball gegen die 89. der Weltrangliste. Das "große Selbstvertrauen", das sie nach ihrem Erfolg vom Wochenende verspürte, war bei ungemütlichen Bedingungen und einem verspäteten Start wegen Regens zunächst wie weggeweht. Doch in einem hart umkämpften Match rettete ihre schon oft beschworene Widerstandsfähigkeit die dreimalige Grand-Slam-Siegerin, die erstmals seit 2018 die erste Runde in Roland Garros überstanden hat und nun auf die Französin Elsa Jacquemot trifft. Zuvor hatte Andrea Petkovic mehr überzeugt. Die Dauerbrennerin aus Darmstadt, die 2014 in der französischen Hauptstadt das Halbfinale erreicht hatte, legte bei ihrem 6:4, 6:2-Auftakterfolg gegen Lokalmatadorin Oceane Dodin einen starken Auftritt hin. "Im Alter geht die Energie mal runter, mal rauf", sagte die 34-Jährige: "Die Kunst ist, mit den Energien hauszuhalten und smarter zu trainieren." "Wie ein junges Hüpfreh" Dies ist Petkovic in der Vorbereitung offenbar gut gelungen und Bundestrainerin Barbara Rittner geriet ins Schwärmen. "Das war ein Meisterstück. Ich habe sie selten in der ersten Runde eines Grand Slams so gut Tennis spielen sehen", sagte Rittner bei Eurosport. Nächste Gegnerin der Weltranglisten-65. ist die frühere Nummer eins Wiktoria Asarenka aus Belarus. Petkovic rechnete nach ihrem Match damit, dass auch Kerber gute Chancen auf einen erfolgreichen Start hatte. Die beiden Freundinnen waren am Sonntagmorgen gemeinsam auf den Trainingsplatz gegangen und hatten sich für ihre Aufgaben eingeschlagen. "Sie hat gemeint, sie sei kaum aus dem Bett gekommen. Dann ist sie aber wie ein junges Hüpfreh herumgelaufen", sagte Petkovic. Mehr zum Thema Doch gegen Frech gelang Kerber zunächst kaum etwas. 13 unerzwungene Fehler waren deutlich zu viel im ersten Satz, ihre Gegnerin witterte ihre Chance und spielte mutig auf. Doch Kerber sammelte sich, spielte im zweiten Durchgang viel konzentrierter und brachte Frech mit ihren Stopps ins Laufen. Im Entscheidungssatz kam sie nach einem Break Rückstand zurück. Beide Spielerinnen lieferten sich nun ein echtes Tennisdrama. Mit dem besseren Ende für die Deutsche. Am Dienstag greifen mit Oscar Otte, Peter Gojowczyk und Nastasja Schunk die verbliebenen deutschen Profis am letzten Spieltag der ersten Runde ein, bevor am Mittwoch die ersten Zweitrundenpartien anstehen. Dann wird die deutsche Nummer eins, Alexander Zverev, aller Voraussicht nach wieder den Sandplatz betreten. Seit diesem Montag ist auch der Gegner klar: Es geht gegen den Argentinier Sebastian Baez, den Zverev zuletzt in Rom besiegt hatte.

[selmalind]

❛                my   love   for   you   will   never   be   enough   .   for   ,   very   early   in   my   life   it   was   already   too   late   .                ❜     

                                     𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓   .                        𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒   .

◜          *          :          elsa     hosk     .     cisfemale     &     she/her     .     let     me     sign     by     robert     pattinson     .          ━━          the     legend     surrounding     london’s     l’academiae     furorum     would     not     be     complete     without     SELMA     LIND     GUSTAFSSON     .     the     academy's     TWENTY     NINE     year     old     PRINCIPAL     DANCER     has     been     with     furore     for     NINETEEN     YEARS     ,     oft     described     as     ALOOF     ,     IMPERIAL     ,     DUPLICITOUS     &     BEWITCHING          &          has     proved     utterly     indispensable     to     the     company.     in     passing     ,     they’ve     come     to     be     associated     with     BLACK     OPIUM     EAU     DE     PARFUM          &          a     painted     on     smile     as     aching     of     a     lifetime     of     work     shoots     from     the     tip     of     your     toes     to     the     ends     of     your     perfectly     lined     finger     tips     ,     blood     curtailing     cries     from     a     dressing     room     you     have     now     ripped     to     shreds     ,     the     whispered     conversations     as     you     make     your     grand     entrance     ,     wincing     in     pain     from     the     soft     touch     from     a     choreographer          &     knowing     it     is     not     them     but     instead     all     in     your     head     .     whether     this     will     be     their     final     curtain     call     is     anyone's     guess          &          the     company’s     worst     nightmare     .     

          a   dainty   figure   with   strawberry   flavored   film   over   plump   lips   ,   stares   out   at   the   paris   street   ,   three   stories   up   ,   on   a   parisian   balcony   .   she   takes   in   the   fresh   scents   from   the   bakery   just   a   few   buildings   over   as   the   sound   of   her   mother’s   delicate   footsteps   cross   past   a   bedroom   door   -   not   fully   shut   in   fear   of   being   entirely   alone   .   soft   fingers   glide   along   a  metal   railing   ,   bright   eyes   peering   over   to   see   if   the   quartet   will   be     reunited   this   time   around   .   but  alas   it   is   another  breakfast   without   the  man   of  the  house   .   how   else   is   he   to   learn   of   the   man   who   sneaks   out   of   the   luxury   apartment   before   dawn   ,   if   his   very   home   has   turned   into   a   hotel   ?   it’s   not   much   longer   that   the   once   dainty   figure   now   turned   frail   can   keep   her   lips   locked   .   it   happened   to   be   a   milestone   birthday   ,   the   key   had   been   retrieved   after   years   of   searching   ,   the   infidelity   spilled   out   ,   flooding   marble   floors   .   once   peaceful   walls   turned   to   a   haunted   house   ,   filled   to    the    brim   with   slamming   doors   ,   screeching    &   the   buried   feeling   that   something   just   wasn’t   right   .   this   has   become   the   new   norm   .   now   the   frail   figure   must  see   herself   out   ,   as   there   is   more   to   life   than   the   horror   show   sprawled   across   these   cigarette   stained   walls   .   a   monster   hides   behind   the   curtains   at   the   paris   opera   ballet   .   the  dainty  figure  has  been  turned  frail  not  once  but  twice   by  those  her  senior   .   

          until   a   choice   must   be   made   ;   a   choice   between   maternal   &   paternal   leaves   the   frail   figure   cracked   in   ways   only   plausible   when   thrown   to   the   ground   .   cuddled   up  against   the   ribs   of   her   brother   ,   the   two   unable   to   decipher   between   right   &   wrong   .   does   one   go   to   each   guardian   or   do   they   go   as   a   package   deal   to   one   ?   time   begins   to   drain   out   of   the   clock   and   they   find   themselves   making   a   hasty   but   a   unanimously   decided   ,   fair   decision   .   the   shattered   glass   makes   one   last   trip   up   the   spiral   stairs   ,   kisses   a   strawberry   flavored   goodbye   to   her   parisian   balcony   &   shuts   the   door   to   her   childhood   bedroom   .   to   her   childhood   home   .   a   two   &   half   hour   train   lands   the   two   siblings   in   their   new   home   .   a   home   etched   in   the   promise   of   a   redo   ,   the   promise   of   a   more   involved   father   .   the   promise   of   safer   ballet   company   .   the   months   to   follow   prove   hard   but   the   newly   labeled   daddy’s   girl   can’t   quite   deny   ,   the   right   decision   was   made   .   she   will   forever   be   shattered   but   her   pieces   ,   constantly   swept   up   by   the   love   from   her   father   &   brother   can   make   her   whole   again   .   that   is   until   ,   their   love   just   doesn’t   seem   to   be   the   right   brand   of   glue   any   longer   .   

          on   the   search   to   be   whole   again   the   femme   finds   herself   enamored   with   an   american   man    ,   the   moment   adulthood   knocked   on   the   doors   of   a   victorian   estate   .   she’s   booked   a   flight   out   to   the   gambling   capital   of   the   world   where   she’d   find   herself   eloping   .   a   heavy   claim   made   by   the   dainty   figure   ,   the   belief   of   true   love   swirling   along   the   walls   of   her   soft   heart   .   it   won’t   be   long   before   the   truth   comes   tumbling   down   on   this   frail   figure   ,   a   reminder   that   to   be   broken   had   become   a   home   for   her   .   a   feigned   love   can’t   make   you   whole   .   so   ,   she   takes   her   deflated heart   ,   strawberry   lip   gloss   &   new   found   poker   face   back   to   her   very   own   playground   .   there   are   far   too   many   paths   that   she   stares   down   ;   in   a   search   to   once   again   be   whole   again   .   one   thing   she   knows   for   sure   ,   the   life   of   a   trophy   wife   ,   is   no   life   at   all   .

          the   return   to  stage   was   one   drenched   in   anticipation   ,   each   and   every   time   .   for   the  symphony   that   plays   background   has   been   the  only   thing   to   bring   this   fragile   being   any   calm   .   the   scent   of   yves   saint   laurents   very   own   black   opium  wisps   across   the  hardwood   floors   .   audience   members   cheers   sound   of  tunneled   cries    as   they    levitate   to   their   feet   .   it   is   principal   that   you   smile   ,    they   love   it   .   they   call   you  ethereal   .   if   only   they   knew   what   it   took   to   be  called   such   a   thing    .     

#furore.intro #◜🌷◞ 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘢 › about * ♡ ˖ #AHHHHH IM SCREAMING ONG #we're going to pretend like i didn't forget to add the pinterest *puts fists up*

[the-blue-fairie]

Whenever I talk about how Frozen 2 feels more individualistically-minded and Frozen 1 feels more communally-minded, I always feel self-conscious and feel like I have to explain myself. Because, on one level, Frozen 2 is very communally-minded and in a beautiful way - and I don’t want to discount that. It’s a story about coming together, of finding commonality and connection, with the communities of Arendelle and the Northuldra both united by love by the end.

But at the same time, Frozen 2 is very much focused on the the individual interiority of its characters - so that the individual interiority comes to the forefront. The main characters tend to process their emotions in a more individualistic fashion in Frozen 2 instead of talking things out among themselves. When I Am Older, Lost in the Woods, Show Yourself, and The Next Right Thing aren’t solely individualistic, of course. To a degree, they all express how each member of the main cast connects with their loved ones and the world around them. But they all do so at points when the individual singer is separate from the family group.

What I love about the first Frozen and the shorts is that we see the family group interacting with each other, connecting with each other, and healing together.

We see Anna and Elsa reconnecting after years of isolation and it feels like a relief because it is a relief. Their interaction helps them both, helps both sisters who have gone through distinct but entwined traumas.

We see Anna and Kristoff working together to fight off the wolves. We see their rapport, their chemistry, their spark. We see what a great team they make.

We see the positive impact of Anna reaching out to Elsa. While the For the First Time in Forever may end in Elsa’s panic, there are so many moments that show Elsa softening, putting aside the walls she has erected all her life in moments of purest love... moments where Anna’s words reach Elsa. At the same time, we see Anna’s understanding and her love. While the sisters may have opposing positions at this point, we see them reaching out to each other, communicating with each other. It’s a step forward - and that step forward comes from their opening up to one another and beginning to talk things out.

We see Olaf helping Anna and, in the process of her rescue, the two talk about their feelings and perspectives and both Anna and Olaf grow from the experience.

We admittedly don’t see much of Elsa and Kristoff’s interactions, but what we see is cute and gives room for some lovely expansion in future.

Watching all these scenes, I latched on deeply onto the idea of this little group as a found family coming together - with particular emphasis on together because Frozen makes a recurring theme of isolation and the pain it causes. Anna’s loneliness, Elsa’s loneliness, even Kristoff’s loneliness in that he spends so much time in the mountains with Sven - aloof from other people (though he has his troll-family, who took him in when it was just “him and Sven.”) And Olaf - born a few hours ago but wanting to know more, wanting to engross himself in the world and engage with it, engage with everyone. And I immediately wanted to see more of this little family working together - because the narrative starts with them all in varying degrees of isolation and they find each other and the narrative ends with them all skating together as a family and ahhhh the found family feels.

I wanted to see how this family interacted together, how they talked together, how they solved problems with one another, how they connected with one another. 

And Frozen 2′s answer to how they do all that is that... in a crisis, they each solve things individually and the narrative just happens to work out that they all come together in the end. 

The narrative structure of Frozen 2 privileges processing one’s emotions in isolation despite having a support network around you.

Kristoff needs to be left behind for Lost in the Woods to have its weight.

Elsa needs to be on her own during Show Yourself because it’s all about her inner journey.

Anna needs to be alone for The Next Right Thing because it’s all about what you do with everyone, everything, and every hope gone.

Even When I Am Older is set up as Olaf on his own and thinking to himself.

When everyone tries to talk to each other, they are met with walls - Elsa not telling Anna about the Voice, Anna leaving Kristoff behind, Elsa leaving Anna and Olaf behind. How will this family interact together?  With miscommunication, uncertainty, and doubt, until those last few minutes.

Now, I know people are going to rush to point out, “But Liza, isn’t discussing miscommunication and conflict between individuals with different identities important?”

Yes, of course. But Frozen 2 never really discusses the roots of the miscommunication or meditates on the characters’ differing perspectives - especially with regards to the sisters because that conflict is born of the trauma of the childhood separation and Frozen 2, as I’ve discussed already, refuses to have the sisters talk together about the shared trauma of the childhood separation even though it would be really healthy for them to talk it out together. (Some have pointed out that Frozen 2 has Elsa and Anna directly address the trauma of the separation in their individual responses to it and references to it in their individual songs - but that only proves my point about Frozen 2 being more individually-minded.)

The neatest resolution comes for Kristoff and Anna with her apology and his, “My love is not fragile.” In spite of the fact that the conclusion of all the narrative threads at F2 feel somewhat abrupt, that’s a beautiful little moment. Does it really ruminate on everything that Anna has been going through? Not exactly, but it gives her affirmation and that’s lovely.

But that’s the thing. The abruptness of the conclusions really show in Frozen 2. They’re not even bad conclusions - in many cases, they’re good conclusions - but we can’t pause to have Elsa and Anna talk together about their shared traumas, however healthy and beneficial that would be for them, the film has to end, and end quickly. 

And that quickness is how we get things like, “A bridge has two sides... and mother had two daughters,” which signifies that Elsa and Anna are both the Fifth Spirit but because it’s so oblique and we have to jump the the next resolution of a plot thread, it doesn’t hit the way it should - if the amount of people who consider simply Elsa the Fifth Spirit is anything to go by.

The abruptness means that the discussion of miscommunication and character conflicts and everything else at the end feels shallower than it should. Like the Fifth Spirit reveal, it doesn’t land as well as it might have.

The movie clearly wants to focus on how miscommunication, uncertainty, and doubt impacts this family group and how they nonetheless overcome it and persevere together, and that’s good, don’t mistake me - but by spending so little time on the “overcoming it and persevering together” part, the film undercuts its ultimate goal. 

I know people are still going to come to me and say, “But Liza, those last few minutes undermine your whole point! Because it does show the family coming together, united to help each other!”

I’d argue that Elsa is a bit disconnected from the group and it’s unclear how much she knows after unfreezing and all that kind of exposes the haphazardness of the “together” message, but hey, she communed with the spirits so now she’s up to speed... and that’s still not the main cast interacting together as they work in common cause, that’s Elsa suddenly getting information and going to act on that information but it’s okay because it all works out in the end and we can happily assume that Elsa can process everything to do with her own unfreezing, Anna’s choice, the spirits’ decision, her own emotions after being back in the world, Anna’s devastating emotions, and everything else within the span of moments because we need to tie everything up neatly even if it doesn’t give the emotions we have painstakingly crafted time to breathe.

There’s that oft-quoted philosophy from Don Bluth that, if you attach a happy ending, you’ll be able to explore many mature and intense themes. That philosophy only goes too far, because sometimes the aftermath of that pain needs to be explored in more depth. Because when it comes to trauma, there are... aftershocks...

Moreover - and I realize this next thing is just... personal on my part - I don’t think the focus on individualism works particularly well with Elsa’s arc in Frozen 2. That no doubt sounds completely insane because Let it Go is the most iconic Elsa moment and Elsa’s arc in Frozen 2 is a personal journey of self-understanding, but here’s the thing. The ending of Elsa’s arc in Frozen 2 hinges on community even when the meat of Elsa’s arc doesn’t focus on it. When Elsa chooses to stay in the Forest, it just... makes me want to see more of her interacting with the Northuldra throughout the film. It makes me want to see Elsa connecting with the Northuldra, learning their customs, feeling more and more at home there.

But the film doesn’t give me that.

The film puts the focus on Elsa’s individual inward journey but doesn’t balance it out with Elsa connecting to the people she eventually decides to find a new home amongst. Yes, she connects with them in Ahtohallan - but in an abstract sense. Disconnected from actual physical interactions with people.

And I know this is personal, but I don’t think that was the right direction to go in for Elsa - the little girl who spent years of her life alone and terrified of interacting with others. I want to see her interacting with people, connecting with people, broadening her horizons. 

And the end of the film sort of gives me that, but it gives me that without ever actually showing Elsa spending a great deal of time with the Northuldra. The closest I get to that before the film’s end is her short scene with Honeymaren and her brief interactions with Yelena. All of which are unfortunately fleeting and not the focus of Elsa’s arc.

Which is a shame because the ending would feel more earned with more of a communal focus and it would also give characters of color more screentime.

And, as I’ve said before, it’s always great to give characters of color more screentime. I know the film is more “about” Elsa’s inner journey than it is about the Northuldra - but the narrative would be made better by enriching the Northuldra’s presence in Elsa’s journey. 

#bigfrozensix #frozen #frozen 2

[elsanna-shenanigans]

February Contest Submission #9: The Search For The Feathered God

words: ca. 2400 setting: Fairytale World lemon: No cw: none

“This was the story of two sisters who loved each other very much and made a journey to discover themselves.”

“Once, when the world was still young but not so young that the gods frolicked without mortals, there lived two sisters. The names of these sisters were lost to time, but to modern ears, they might be referred to as “Anna” and “Elsa”.

Like all of the humans alive then, they spent their time with their peoples. They learned a craft, the culture, how the world worked, and about the old gods. For you see in those days, the old gods were so ubiquitous that their stories hardly needed to be.

The old gods were a different sort than the younger gods. They were spoken of, sacred, and altogether content with what they had created.  The younger gods had a fire to prove themselves that led them to continue to meddle in human affairs. Both sets of deities ruled together, for the sun and the moon bound them in creation.

In those days, humans were still developing their gift of curiosity, for they had yet to learn all that they were. It had led them much further than the people of wood or clay, and it would continue to. Unbeknownst to them, their sense waned when there was normalcy of living. People grew comfortable with the way things were, for that was the order seemingly ordained.

The sisters’ curiosities were a finely developed sort. The younger found herself with an ability to dream in the day, able to imagine all sorts of wonderful things. She was naturally drawn to living things and discovering what might be around every corner. The elder knew herself to be talented with lines and shapes, understanding how things might be made. 

They wondered most about the ability that the elder had, since she had the ability to summon cold and frost. They had at first surmised that she might be a partial god, but their parents were still there. Even now, their best guess was that she had been blessed.

What changed everything was when Anna decided to ask around to see if perhaps they might be able to ask the wise god. He might know why Elsa was like that. To her horror, all laughed at her silly proposition.

‘Nobody has seen the wise god!’

‘Then I’ll be the first!’

They’d shake their heads and shake their bodies with that hidden laugh of pity. Poor, foolish girl. She didn’t know what she was attempting or requesting. Nobody had found him in quite some time, so why would she?

Anna though, she wasn’t the sort to give up lightly. She would be the first, and she would find an answer to Elsa’s lifelong question. Elsa in turn was willing to support Anna’s quest at every step.

With heavy hearts, they set off from their home. The general air was one of grieving, for nobody expected to see them again. Surely they would be eaten by prowling jaguars or struck down for their insolence, or sadder yet, wander forever chasing something impossible.

Their first step was to visit the great city of Teotihuacan. Though they had never been, they had heard stories of the trade hub. So many people were there that it felt like a guarantee that they would hear about the whereabouts of the wise god. Maybe nobody at home knew, but the people there might.

They traveled a long while, for in those days, they had no quicker speed than what their legs might muster. Often, their pace was slowed by the mild ache of muscles that asked why there was a sudden increase in exercise. It may have been a blessing from the gods for this sluggish pace.

For you see, the sisters had none other than the other for company. Though they had always been close, this bond was only tightened with them being their sole respective companions. There were struggles with annoying behaviors, but they had suffered those before and thus found it easier to move past them.

There was a close call once, when they had heard a soft padding and the crack of a broken branch. That was their only warning, as Elsa’s ice spiraled around them defensively to  form a protective dome. Into the dome crashed a jaguar, with its ferocious maw spraying thick strands of saliva. 

It found itself unable to break through, though its every swipe made Elsa tremble and sweat with exertion. Eventually, it grew tired of attempting to prey on them and left, finding it to be far too much trouble. Nevertheless, they did not leave the dome for fear of being hunted once more.

Elsa was beside herself. She wanted to go home immediately and demanded for Anna to go home. Anna protested, naturally. They argued on whether to go or stay late into the night.

‘Anna, I can’t let you risk yourself for me!’

‘We can make it! I know we can, please just trust me!’

‘This isn’t worth your life, Anna.’

‘You’re worth a million jaguars, Elsa.’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Please Elsa, for you. It’s not risk when it’s out of love!’

‘That makes it worse!’

‘But we’ve come so far. We will find the source of your powers, I swear it!’

‘But- I-’

‘Elsa. You. Are. Worth. It.’

Anna scooped Elsa into a deep embrace and held her there. Elsa in turn weakly hugged back, still trying to process what happened. 

Anna loved her that much. Anna loved her that much. Anna loved her that much.

Anna loved her.

Tears welled in Elsa’s eyes, and she could barely contain the liquid emotion spilling out. Anna’s eyes watered in empathy and they remained in the hug for a while. Sometimes, it was nice to be reminded you were loved. Then and now. Humans never did fundamentally change all that much.

The remainder of the trip to Teotihuacan was relatively peaceful, all things considered. The two kept the dome up for a few more days, but were able to travel safely after that. It ought to be noted that while the jungle was beautiful, it formed a monotonous, lonely sort of beauty. There were only so many shades of greens and browns and fantastic creatures that one could see before the eye wearied of even those.

It was because of that, that when the city appeared over the horizon, it appeared even more glorious in its humanity. The bustle, the sounds, the buildings, the people: all so very human. There were more people in this one place than they had ever seen at home. It seemed a given that somebody might know where the wise god was.

To their shock and mild horror, it seemed that people from all over knew the wise god as something different. Some said that they spoke of the rain god, or the sun god, or an evil god. All had different versions of what seemed to be the wise god. The only consistency between these versions was that the god had the form of a feathered serpent.

Some suggested that they might travel to Tenochtitlan. Perhaps the Emperor or the princess of that land might know. Nobody knew where the wise-feathered god was. Only that he was. They both often felt rising frustration at the fact that the wise god was among the old gods.

They stayed in the city as long as they could, but there were no answers to be found. If nothing else, they had only found themselves new confusion. Seeing as they had no other lead, they decided to make the journey to Tenochtitlan to meet those peoples and their emperor. Perhaps, perhaps.

Like the first journey, the second was long and tedious. The land was as of yet untamed by man, and thus plants sprung up as they pleased. Paths were cut into these, but the plants seeped their long roots into the paths in order to secretly reclaim them. 

Once more, the sisters found themselves yet closer to one another. Words were unnecessary to express the care they felt for each other. It was not quite yet something more, but it was not merely the platonic love that one might feel for a wonderful friend or sibling. Indeed, the line between platonic love and romantic love is oft blurred, but theirs had become near vanished. But that is difficult to identify when one might never conceive of such a concept. Or perhaps, shame would arise otherwise.

When they arrived, they were once more in awe. This time, however, it was at the gardens seemingly floating over the water, farmers propelling themselves in small boats. Indeed, it seemed like the very city floated over waters, and was decorated with bright accoutrements that accentuated its near concentric design. It was truly a capital to behold.

When they arrived at the palace, the two were greeted by stern-faced guards who regarded them with little care.

‘What brings you to the palace?’ asked a guard.

‘We come seeking answers,’ replied Elsa.

‘Answers?’

‘Yes, we are searching for the wise god.’

Elsa stayed cool, but looked faint. When asked later, she confirmed that she indeed was on the verge of nervous collapse due to the danger of being so far from home and potentially insulting an emperor. Anna on the other hand, looked impatient.

The guards turned to each other and shrugged.

‘Very well.’

The sisters were allowed entry into the main hall. However, greeting them was not the emperor at all, but rather his daughter, the princess Iztaccihautl. She looked wistful and distracted, as if her mind was far away. She gave them a look and asked why they might bother her solemn vigil.

They in turn, answered that they were looking for the wise god. She told them that perhaps they might be able to find him if they asked a rabbit who lived at the base of the mountain. He had spoken to a god in a cave.

‘And…’ The princess gulped. ‘My beloved has been fighting in the mountains. Please, if you see him, tell him I’m waiting for him.’

Anna patted her on the back. ‘We’ll find him. Promise.’

‘You will? Oh thank you!’

‘I bet you he’s already beat all of them.’

‘Yes, yes I do so terribly hope so.’

‘I know so. You gotta hold onto hope, okay?’

‘Okay. No matter what.’

With the information in mind, the two trekked off into the mountains. The terrain from before was difficult, but now it was rugged and vertical. The earth did not care for comfort and maneuverability, only that it merely desired to be there and so it was. Once more, they grew closer. They still hadn’t the words to express what each thought, but the princess’s word, ‘beloved’ struck both deeply. There was something about it.

In the mountains, they found a band of warriors. Brave, decorated, and handsome, they were returning with the spoils of victory. Though some were wounded and all were tired, they had not lost the smiling bravado that marked the human spirit. They passed through the group, and told them of the princess’s message.

As if by some revitalizing magic the leader, Popocatepetl perked up at the message. He nodded at his second in command with hardly any time between his movement and suddenly running ahead to reach his love. The sisters had a good feeling about the lovers’ ending.

After that detour, they continued their journey. It made them both think more, about what type of love it might take to run so fast, to worry so hard. And in both, it resonated with something deep within that they did not wholly understand. They had begun to develop a vocabulary and rudimentary instincts, but they simply had not yet realized what sort of love was between them.

Eventually, they made it to a tree that looked like it might home a rabbit. They knocked politely and asked if it might wish to speak. When it hopped out, both were shocked. Anna squeed, and asked when it got its ears lengthened. Long ears were perfect for it.

In those days, rabbits had short ears. But this rabbit, the first long eared rabbit changed everything. It had done the tasks necessary to receive a reward from the god living in the cave. Thus, the sisters offered him food in return for knowledge of where the god resided.

The rabbit happily showed them to the cave, which contained darkened coils. They had the feeling that finally, after such questing, it was over. They had found him.

The wise god opened one eye and peered at the mortal humans who were the first to find him in a very long time.

‘What brings you to my cavern? I am resting.’

‘I-I’m really sorry but I have two questions, O wise one,  if that’s okay,’ Anna said.

‘The distance you traveled and your bond… yes. Yes, I think it is alright.’

Anna gulped. ‘One. Who are you? I thought you were the wise god.’

The serpent loomed and drew to its full height outside of the cavern, a glittering mass of emerald scales and long feathers emerging from its head and tail.

‘I am Quetzalcoatl, the god of wisdom. I am attributed the weather and occasionally the sun. Ask your second question, child.’

‘Um… why does Elsa have magic? She’s just a normal human like me.’

‘She was blessed. It was a reward for the love your parents gave the world, and the one between you.’

Anna blinked. ‘Between us?’

‘Yes. You ought to have recognized it, strong as it is.’

‘I-’

They looked at each other, a longing gaze going between them.

For the first time with the god, Elsa spoke up.

‘It’s okay then?’

‘Yes.’

From there, the sisters turned to look at each other. They did not wait any longer for the veil of confusion had been cast away. They understood what it was they had and how to act on it.

Thus, the god went back to resting in his cave, and the sisters kissed away all lingering doubt or fear. They eventually returned to their village, and lived happily ever after.”

The old, withered woman finally ended the story. Her voice was now scratchy, as the children looked up in wonder.

They soon ran off to reenact the various adventures, and she smiled at her dear sister. 

She murmured quietly to herself, so faintly that even a bat would be hard-pressed to hear it.

“This was the story of two sisters who loved each other very much and made a journey to discover themselves.”

#elsanna #submission #february 2021 contest #prompt: ancient worlds

[frostmused]

i have multiple hyperfixations going on.

monster hunter bc i’ve been playing that on my switch

pokemon unite specifically bc i’ve also been playing that on my switch

revisiting tales of series and adding muses here, getting icons etc.

frozen bc my elsa is always on my mind and i’ve been deep in frozen for months now. (elsa has a MOTU verse if u dont mind disney vibes 24/7)

MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!

and pokemon bc pokemon is also always at the front of my mind.

and idk how 2 divide my single low energy braincell between all oft hese.

#ooc / writer's notes #if u wonder why i have been slow its this #my brain just wants 2 focus on ALL OF THESE AT ONCE #but i cant.... I CANT BUT I AM TRYING

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

disney’s ‘the hunchback of notre dame’, early 2000s kid nostalgia, and other midnight musings

“What the fuck, Stina? I thought this was a blog for book reviews!” you say.

“Books, amongst other things. Hence the -ish suffix,” I say. “And all my mediocre ‘reviews’ are hit-or-miss in terms of engagement, so I’m pretty much free to post whatever the fuck I want.”

I toss my head. My hair whacks me in the face.

The first time I watched Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame was been circa 2006, in the ‘movie room’ of my preschool, huddled around a CRT TV with the rest of my five-year-old classmates. Not much about the film particularly stood out to me at the age.

Fast-forward fifteen years later; I’m cooped up in quarantine, hundreds of thousands of miles away from that first viewing. I’m living my best life, rejoicing in my introverted tendencies and having a laugh at the expense of all the suffering extroverts. I haven’t moved from my bed all day, except for the bare necessities, and I’m bingeing YouTube videos. All is well.

I discovered Lindsay Ellis’s channel quite recently- embarrassingly enough, through her videos on Omegaverse and the whole Addison Cain fiasco. I stumbled down the rabbit-hole of her channel, and here I am, a few dozen videos later, and I find her one on this film.

Which, of course, led me to want to re-watch the film, with the eyes and mind (supposedly) of an adult. And it went far beyond and above my expectations.

The film is dark, much darker than the average Disney film of today- not just thematically, but the graphics too. Except for the first parts with the Festival of Fools and the last scene, the rest seems to have a dark filter put over it all. Obviously, given its themes (I’m pulling these out of my arse; I’m a STEM major and I have zero to no knowledge about film) of freedom and equality, acceptance of those different from us, corruption and lust- all that good shit, in other words- you can’t exactly have sunshine and rainbows. But it’s such a stark contrast from what I’ve been accustomed to from Disney; Frozen has Hans about to decapitate Elsa, but the background remains bright and light; Simba sobbing next to Mufasa’s body in The Lion King is heart-wrenching, but a few scenes later, we have an anthropomorphic meerkat-boar duo singing about eating bugs and farting and all that classy stuff, so it’s not as traumatizing.

The themes are a lot more on-the-nose than a lot of other kids’ movies (forgive me if I err, I am aged and forgetful)- cue la Esmeralda saying, “What do they have against people who are different, anyway?”- you get what’s essentially the same ‘accept others regardless of their differences’, ‘prejudice is bad’ morals from, say, Zootopia, but having given the main characters fursuits makes it less obvious than in this movie.

(Or maybe I’m just a dumbass. I have no elaborate notes for this; I’m high on sugar and deprived of sleep so I might be spewing bullshit.)

Admittedly, the resolution is a bit… unrealistic. The citizens of Paris = sheep, essentially; they go from throwing fruit in Quasimodo’s face because the guards started it, to helping defeat them. Maybe there’s something about mob mentality in there, but I find it hard to believe that people who showed up to watch Esmeralda burn to death were suddenly totally cool with not getting what they didn’t pay for. But then again, this is a Disney movie, and you can’t make kids too cynical too early on. Let them have their innocence and ‘people will be with the heroes in times of peril because humanity is inherently good!’ before they realize that humanity kinda fuckin’ sucks.

The characters are some of the most human from those I’ve seen in Disney (other honorable mentions: the main characters of The Emperor’s New Groove, Moana, Tangled, Anna from Frozen). Quasimodo’s the main character (lol DUH, will I ever say anything not obvious?), and he’s so lovable, but not without flaws- he’s biased against gypsies in the beginning because Frollo’s the literal scum of the earth. To borrow from the K-pop fans’ dictionary: UwU he’s so pure!

Esmeralda sparks a bit of controversy because she’s another POC leading lady from a Disney film of the 90’s (a list including Jasmine, and, sigh- Pocahontas) who’s markedly more sexualized than the white Disney princesses. It’s not something I particularly noticed nor cared about until I saw it being brought up- I mean, the woman shows a bit of cleavage and then dances for a couple of seconds- but. I’m just putting that out there.

She’s an empowering heroine without having to belt in in your face (not me making a dig at Naomi Scott’s Jasmine from the Aladdin live action film), and I also love how her role in taking down the Big Bad doesn’t have to do with her ‘power of seduction’ (the scene in the animated Aladdin film where Jasmine kissed Jafar truly traumatized me as a kid).

Phoebus is… well, he exists. Kind of a Regulus Black archetype, but not exactly. The guy on the bad side who turns good and all is forgiven. Well, at least it’s not the ‘her love made him a better man’ trope. And he is a good guy. Even if he did spend a considerable amount of his adult years on the side of the bad guys.

Systemic oppression? Nah, it’s one or two corrupt baddies. But again, it’s a Disney film, we need everything to work out for the good guys in the end.

Let’s get the gargoyles out of the way. To reference Lindsay Ellis’s video (she’s a lot smarter than I am and breaks this down better than I ever could): yes, the comedy’s oft ill-timed and inappropriate… for an adult audience. And the primary demographic of Disney films, especially princess ones (obviously Esmeralda isn’t a princess, nor does she marry into royalty, nor is she included in the group of princesses in the dumpster fire that is Ralph Breaks the Internet, but I had a book imaginatively titled ‘Disney Princess Stories’ as a kid that included Esmeralda’s story alongside Belle’s and Ariel’s, so I’m calling her a princess), are kids. And kids love fart jokes.

Additionally, I have a theory-that-is-not-really-a-theory-but-a-pretty-obvious-thing-that-happens that the gargoyles are figments of Quasimodo’s imagination, and the, at times crass and ridiculous things they say are just the voices in Quasimodo’s head (THIS IS OBVIOUS, STINA, YOU HAVEN’T STUMBLED ACROSS A STARTLING NEW REVELATION); maybe what he imagines normal townspeople to act like.

And then we have Judge Judy Chrissy Teigen Frollo. This dude is the embodiment of pure evil. He’s bigoted and rapey and abusive and one of Disney’s most successful villains- even better than Mother Gothel, who previously held the crown. It’s rare that a villain genuinely terrifies me, especially a cartoon one. Frollo, unlike your typical fairytale antagonist who wants power/fame/fortune/to overthrow Olympus, is far more sinister; driven from deep-rooted hatred instead of plain greed. He’s so much closer to people in positions of power and authority even in the modern world, and that element of reality makes him so much better as an antagonist instead of a literal sheep who hates carnivores (seriously, Disney, enough with the twist villains- they’re not working out).

Also, Hellfire slaps. In fact, the entire soundtrack does.

Speaking about Hellfire, I love the contrast between that and Heaven’s Light; how Esmeralda is viewed by Frollo (an object to possess, “Destroy Esmeralda, and let her taste the fires of hell; or else, let her be mine and mine alone”) as opposed to Quasimodo (someone with free will, “I dare to dream that she might even care for me”).

Another argument brought up, and admittedly one I had as a child was, ‘but if the whole point of the movie is acceptance and love as opposed to lust, why didn’t Quasimodo get the girl?’ Which, years later, I realize is an extremely misogynistic way to look at it. As Princess Jasmine said four years before The Hunchback was released, she is not a prize to be won. Quasimodo is Frollo’s antithesis; he lets Esmeralda choose, and she chose Phoebus. And Quasimodo accepted that, because he is good and kind and sweet and loving. Severus Snape, take note.

On a sidenote, I’m always kind of caught out of left field when the plot in films moves really fast- I’m really not a movie-watching type; I prefer to read, and books usually indicate how much time passes from one main plot point to another, and there are little slice-of-life, filler parts that tie in to character development and moving the plot forward, but at a snail’s pace. So, whenever I’m watching a movie and it’s one important event after another, I usually haven’t had enough of a refractory period to process it.

Let’s pretend that I segued smoothly into the next part of this (already tedious and long drawn out) review.

The Hunchback is the darkest film I’ve ever seen come out from Disney. Re-watching it as an adult made me pause every so often and wonder why the hell I wasn’t traumatized by it as a kid. I mean, the whole movie kicks off with Frollo about to throw an infant down a well. And then there’s that horrifying shot of the stone renditions of the Israelite kings on the church walls. Frollo falls to his death into fire. I mean, good riddance, but still. I guess it’s because the kids’ shows of today are awfully censored and polished so kids don’t have nightmares forevermore.

Update: tried to watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame 2. Exited just as fast as I clicked on it. Disney sequels really ain’t shit (yes, I’m looking at you, Frozen 2).

#the hunchback of notre dame #disney #disney princess #victor hugo #disney movies #esmeralda #quasimodo #phoebus #frollo #frozen #frozen 2 #lion king #movie review #aladdin #lindsey ellis #zootopia #emperors new groove #moana movie #moana #tangled #2000s kids #90s movies #90s kids #90s cartoons #disney renaissance

[diedeutschestunde]

Johan Christian Clausen Dahl

Johan Christian Clausen Dahl (* 24. Februar 1788 in Bergen; † 14. Oktober 1857 in Dresden; oft I. C. Dahl oder J. C. Dahl genannt) war ein norwegischer Landschaftsmaler der Romantik und enger Freund von Caspar David Friedrich. Von 1818 bis 1857 lebte und wirkte er in Dresden. Dahl war Mitglied der Kunstakademien in Kopenhagen (seit 1827), Stockholm (seit 1832) und Berlin (seit 1834).

Dahls Vater Claus Dahl (1750–1823) war Fischer und Fährmann, seine Mutter Elsa Birgitte Johnsdatter starb 1828. Von 1803 bis 1809 absolvierte er eine Dekorationslehre in Bergen/Norwegen. Im Jahr 1811 bezog er die Kunstakademie Kopenhagen, wo er bei Christian August Lorentzen studierte, und zog 1818 nach Dresden. Im Juni 1820 heiratete er Emilie von Block (Tochter des Konservators Heinrich von Block und Caroline von Bege). Emilie von Block starb 1827 im Kindbett. Im Januar 1830 heiratete Dahl seine Schülerin Amalie von Bassewitz, die Ende des Jahres 1830 ebenfalls im Kindbett verstarb. Dahl hatte insgesamt fünf Kinder, von denen nur zwei das Kleinkindalter überlebten, dabei handelte es sich um seinen Sohn Siegwald Johannes Dahl (1827–1902) und die Tochter Caroline Elisabeth Dahl, spätere Bull (geb. 1822).

In Dresden, wo er an der Straße An der Elbe (heutiges Terrassenufer) im gleichen Haus wie Caspar David Friedrich wohnte, wurde Dahl 1820 Mitglied und 1824 Professor der Dresdner Kunstakademie. Im Sommer 1820 reiste er auf Einladung des dänischen Kronprinzen Christian Frederik für zehn Monate nach Italien. In Rom schloss er sich 1821 dem Kreis um Bertel Thorvaldsen an und kehrte im selben Jahr nach Dresden zurück.

Fünfmal reiste er in seine nordische Heimat zurück (in den Jahren 1826, 1834,1839, 1844 und 1850).[1] 1847 reiste er gemeinsam mit seinem Sohn, dem Maler Siegwald Dahl, nach Paris und Brüssel.

1837 veröffentlichte Dahl ein Werk über norwegische Stabkirchen: „Denkmale einer sehr ausgebildeten Holzbaukunst aus den frühsten Jahrhunderten in den innern Landschaften Norwegens“ (Dresden 1837). Außerdem sorgte er dafür, dass die zum Abriss vorgesehene Kirche des norwegischen Ortes Vang – die Stabkirche Wang – vom preußischen König aufgekauft und im niederschlesischen Krummhübel im Riesengebirge wiedererrichtet wurde.

Dahl starb am 14. Oktober 1857 und wurde auf dem Dresdner Eliasfriedhof im Feld A 21-14 begraben. Am 29. Mai 1934 wurden seine Gebeine an seinen Geburtsort Bergen überführt.

Auszeichnungen

1839: Wasaorden

1840: Ritter des Dannebrogsordens

1847: Ritter des St.-Olavs-Orden

1853: Roter Adlerorden 4. Klasse

Werkauswahl

1816: Kallehauge bei Vordingborg, Öl auf Leinwand, 180 × 250 cm, Billedgalleri, Bergen

1817: Frederiksholms Kanal in Kopenhagen mit dem Brauhaus Christians IV., Öl auf Leinwand, 42 × 60 cm, Neue Pinakothek, München

1818: Blick auf den Sund, Öl auf Leinwand, 37 × 59 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1819: Morgen nach einer Sturmnacht, Öl auf Leinwand, 74 × 105 cm, Neue Pinakothek, München

1820: Prinzessin Caroline Amalie, Papier, 22 × 16 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1820: Schlucht in der Sächsischen Schweiz, Öl auf Leinwand, 63 × 48 cm, Neue Pinakothek, München

1820: Der Ausbruch des Vesuvs, Öl auf Leinwand, 93 × 138 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1820: Die Kaserne bei Pizzofalcone, Papier, 30 × 44 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1821: Blick von Pimonta auf die Bucht von Neapel, 1821, Hamburger Kunsthalle

1822: Küstenansicht nahe Castellamare, Öl auf Leinwand, Kunstsammlungen Chemnitz

1822: Partie im großen Garten bei Dresden. Öl auf Leinwand.

1823: Mühle im Liebethaler Grund, Öl auf Leinwand, 26 × 37,5 cm, Galerie Neue Meister, Dresden

1824/1825: Hünengrab nahe Vordingborg im Winter, Öl auf Leinwand, 75 × 106 cm, Museum der bildenden Künste Leipzig

1827: Bauta am Sognefjord, Öl auf Leinwand, 62 × 76 cm, Privat-Sammlung, Oslo

1831: Schiffbruch an der norwegischen Küste, Öl auf Leinwand, Hamburger Kunsthalle

1836: Lyshornet bei Bergen, Öl auf Leinwand, 41 × 50 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1836: Fortundal, Öl auf Leinwand, 199 × 265 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1838: Hellefoss, Öl auf Leinwand, 98 × 155 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1839: Blick auf Dresden bei Vollmondschein, Öl auf Leinwand, 78 × 130 cm, Galerie Neue Meister, Dresden

1840: Swinemünde bei Mondschein, Pommersches Landesmuseum, Greifswald[2]

1842: Frogner Gut, Privat-Sammlung

1842: Ansicht von Stalheim, Öl auf Leinwand, 191 × 246 cm, Nasjonalgalleriet, Oslo

1843: Dresden im Mondschein, Öl auf Leinwand, 67 × 101 cm, Sammlung Rasmus Meyer, Bergen

1849: Birke im Sturm, Öl auf Leinwand, 92 × 73 cm, Billedgalleri, Bergen

1852: Maridalen, Öl auf Leinwand, 52,5 × 81,5 cm, Galerie Neue Meister, Dresden

1854: Mabødalen, Öl auf Leinwand, 71 × 110 cm, Sammlung Rasmus Meyer, Bergen

Blick auf Dresden bei Vollmondschein

[libidomechanica]

Doth make me oft

Doth make me oft to lead  them close, drove there delight. Each sex, like  sweetness like it is each  time—not painted  eyes Of wo just like that  feele the body.  can iudge of the  answered Lilia woke with good  manners, answered in a  rowe? “How happy men that act.  Back when my though now my wrist is  naked. But that can  become of me, Ill softly  tread unto me, were contents  me:’‘tis scarce could, young-wise, wise-

valiant lovers ever. ’D the  floure-de-luce so ‘fraid, (though words come.  When in my heart  at your watry bowres, and,  if at noon’”) his tenants, which  I see my grandfather  sixty years bungle past  their den into spring so  mock-solemn, that purpose, thy  steel by careless chance giues both one  little King Charley snarling, go back, Elsa  holds one degree that  over-goes my blunt invention  quite, dulling my lines and there moved among  the day, the edge 

of Wood a furlong from  the summer-time, oer-spreads and hating  the swan. Hobbinoll,  what men unborn shall slide  down thine their glowing the old stones from  the day, the  liquefaction is the  gourd overscored, while thus he spoken,  loved accents are shining bright:  I arise from being subjects  only a sequel,  after being cruel, my  heart,send me a little turret  whence a tower in ancient  rosaries, laborious 

orient ivory  sphere in thine own dear pitys sake, that  made of pleasures prove that  fish, which all spleenful folly  was drownd, To do it  for what I am  sick of an eyelash  dead on the sun could not look for  ease in vain you were  a bee of golden  fulnesse? pale with night in thy  comfort my disgrace, called out to  the judgment of  my hair falls in well with  his sacredness With 

his sacredness to  fyll the meadows sear! called out to  thine ; thou canst not (for  you are what we may guess  by these the other there in sphere  in the swelling Apennine,  retire  into towers. stallion-hoofed  Thou like a heavy sky  over London Or who them  bristled at my door? falls on the  green river. When  fated to despair, and  enisle ourselves, the  dead seamans knell. Scent, by taste.)

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #151 texts

[glittering-snowfall]

Helpless - an Elsanna Ficlet

Note: I wrote this ages ago, but never posted it. Expect a great deal of angst.

Time touches everything.

Elsa’s room is cold. So it has been for years. Playthings sit upon the corners of shelves, dolls with soft and knitted faces whose smiles will ever be broad and red as cherries… cherries from an orchard, an orchard in bloom…

But dust veils their lifeless faces. No children’s hands pluck them from their perches, squeezing them to their bosoms with squeals of joy. The dolls do not share in sweet-hearted picnics on the green with a giggling pair of girls. That time has long since passed away. The princesses of Arendelle have not played together in years. And the years have collected over them both as thickly and desolately as the dust upon these poppets…

The years weigh heavily on Elsa. She grows older – grows up, perhaps one could say – but to grow up, doesn’t one first need a childhood? Elsa knows she had one, once upon a time. The few toys tucked away in her room are remembrances of it.

Yet, childhood died in her early, died in her at the age of eight.

More than the gaiety of girlhood, Elsa remembers clutching Anna in her tiny arms. How long had she held her? A minute? An hour? A minute that seemed like an hour as Elsa sobbed and sobbed, sniffling, screaming for her mama and papa?

In that eternity before her parents came, her mind was chaos. A blizzard of incoherent despair, regret… yet, still she held Anna close. Anna. Anna. One thought pulsed through her, stronger than the rest. Please let Anna be safe. Please.

Time runs its fingers over people, refashioning their countenances as they age. Across the years, however, this one thought only burns more brightly in Elsa. Let Anna be safe. I don’t matter. I’m nothing, I don’t deserve the crown, but Anna…

Anna deserves… everything.     

Anna becomes her world, her soul. When Anna is in pain, Elsa feels it. Each mournful entreaty her sister makes outside her door stings like a lash. (If Anna’s pleas were lashes, indeed, Elsa’s back would be hideously patterned with scars, for they grow so numerous… so numerous.) Yet, when she can see Anna free and safe, Elsa almost believes the agony they both suffer is worth… something.

Oft, she gazes down at Anna in the courtyard, memorizing every freckle on her sun-gold face. She savors every time her sister twirls on the grass, sometimes stumbling, but bobbing back up in a minute with a giddy smile. If Elsa cannot laugh of her own accord, she can still let the sight of Anna’s laughter settle over her like a warm robe of ermine.

Anna’s happiness is the closest thing Elsa has to happiness herself.

Elsa hates this, loathes the vicarious pleasure she gleans from Anna. Some twisted part of her is jealous of her sister. She can feel it. Anna has a freedom she will never have.

Is that selfish? Elsa thinks one evening. Is it really? To simply want liberty?

Yes, she tells herself, for it is a liberty she will never deserve…

Elsa’s guilt runs deep. Nonetheless, she indulges her guilty fancies. She imagines herself out in the bright day with her sister, imagines being close to her… so close to her…

She only means for her musings to be innocent… only… means…

The first time she imagines Anna’s lips brushing against her own, she barely understands the emotions stirring within her. The thought is light and sweet, as the kiss would be – a delicate poem, an idyll of the mind… The thought melts away as easily as it comes, like the cotton of a cloud scattered across the sky.

Elsa allows herself to sigh contentedly. Then she freezes. Goosebumps of guilt bristle on her skin.

She cannot have thought that. She cannot have thought that.

In the lustrousness of day, with all her wits about her, Elsa might be able to deny it… but night is its own realm, a shadow-country. Dreams glide in unbidden, stallions made of smoke. Their whinnies whisper things that the human heart, in day, would shame to contemplate. Elsa cannot deny her heart when she shudders awake in darkness, drenched in sweat and shame.

Stalagmites of ice, like the spears of a seething army, glint in the shadowy light of the moon. Elsa’s throat is dry and rough. She tries to swallow, nearly chokes. Visions of Anna still coil and uncoil inside her mind.

Her first coherent thoughts, as she processes what dances before her eyes, are selfish. (At least, she would call them selfish…)

No. No. NO! Please… not Anna… not Anna… Please…

She doesn’t know who she’s pleading to. The more she reflects, the more it crushes her: She has no one to blame but herself. Like her powers, this perversion comes from her, is bound to her.

#elsanna #icest #arencest

[ivanahimmelreich]

Jojo Rabbit: Das Dritte Reich als alberne Zirkusveranstaltung 

Taika Waititis Jojo Rabbit (2019) ist eine bunte Satire über Nazideutschland. Der jüdische Regisseur verwandelt Hitler in eine jammernde Witzfigur und verspottet somit auf herzliche Weise die nationalsozialistische Denkweise des Dritten Reiches. Waititi kratzt somit an einem Tabu – und tut dies auf dem best möglichen Wege: er porträtiert Hitler selber. Hitler ist in Jojo Rabbit als imaginärer Freund des zehnjährigen Jungen Johannes „Jojo“ Betzler (Roman Griffin Davis) inszeniert, der, sehr zu seiner Freude, erstmals an einem Hitlerjugendlager teilnehmen darf. Jojo ist ein eifriger Möchtegern-Nazi und idealisiert Hitler als seinen besten Freund, der ihn dabei unterstützt, endlich mal “einen eigenen Juden töten zu können”. Und diesen besten Freund hat er dringend nötig, denn der sensible Jojo wird von anderen Hitlerjungen gehänselt, als er es nicht übers Herz bringen kann, einem Hasen das Genick zu brechen. Er wird kurz darauf, aufgrund einer Verletzung, nach Hause geschickt. Jojos Mutter Rosie (Scarlett Johansson) ist dem Vaterland eindeutig weniger ergeben als ihr Sohn: Sie versteckt im Haus das 15-jährige jüdische Mädchen Elsa. Aufgrund eines Zufalls entdeckt Jojo sie und nach anfänglichen Anfeindungen beginnt er, sie immer mehr als Menschen zu sehen. 

Hass, so die Quintessenz des Films, beruht oft auf Unkenntnis.
 Zwar werden in Jojo Rabbit die Gräueltaten des Zweiten Weltkriegs größtenteils in eine flauschige Wohlfühlkomödie gepackt, aber die lächerlichen Nazi-Sympathisanten im Kontrast zu der komplexen und überaus menschlichen Elsa geben ein kraftvolles Bild ab. Häufig werden Nationalsozialisten in Filmen als furchterregend, allmächtig und beeindruckend dargestellt, was dazu führen kann, dass sie Menschen mit rechtsextremer Ideologie weiterhin idealisieren können. Dies ist in diesem Film nicht möglich: die Nationalsozialisten wirken albern und dumm, während Hitler, verkörpert durch den jüdischen Komiker, wie ein weinerlicher Schwächling wirkt. Es gibt dennoch Momente, in denen einem das Lachen im Halse stecken bleibt. Diese Momente treffen den Zuschauer genauso hart wie unerwartet, ist doch der Rest des Films mit Warmherzigkeit durchzogen.


★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

Ivana

#jojo rabbit #review #film review #ivanahimmelreich #ivana #himmelreich

[geekcultureclassicalpoet]

An introduction

Years ago after watching #Frozen and being intensely moved, I started writing a sonnet and going to poetry slams, where I challenged guests to guess what it’s about in the manner of Shakespeare’s Dark Lady and Fair Youth poems. It grew into a pursuit of writing on geek culture phenoms using the forms of classical poetry in English and Chinese. This tumblr will feature the various poems I have come up with. Hope to get more shares and comments.

To kick off, the Sonnet that started it all....

FOR ELSA

Long reign over me O dear Fair Maiden;

Uncrease thy brow on which sad care doth show.

Blizzards of grief on thy chest be laden,

Though thy heart be pure as the driven snow.

Though Summer brought forth thy beauty and grace;

And its rays reflect off thy pristine heart.

Cased in icy tears hidden past thy face

What sorrows from the World set thee apart?

The solitude that bears thy noble crown;

'Tis a beastly sentry, a mean master!

Warmth to thine heart and spring to this town,

Shall be when thou seest in thee no monster!

Good intent oft pave thine own cold Hell; thou

Lovest too wisely, fondly, not too well.

#frozen #elsa #sonnet #shakespearean sonnet #fanfiction #disney

[witchesdual]

@fiiimbulvetr​ sent: [ lullaby ]  -  your  muse  sings  my  muse  to  sleep. For Luz. In whichever verse you prefer

platonic / familial actions. || accepting!

Sleep had always been an elusive thing for Luz. Hard to catch and equally as difficult to keep hold of. So often had they found themselves staring into the night, sharing the late hours with the moon and stars that shone into their window. Yet, for once, the young fairy found themselves struggling to remain awake.

Soft wings lazily hung from their shoulders, heavy eyelids fluttering open once more as they had countless times prior, another feeble attempt made to keep from drifting off to sleep. She’d never had someone sing to her like this before, or at all for that matter. The softness of Elsa’s song left a warming comfort in the teen, the quiet tune echoing through their ears as it slowly lulled them into a gentle slumber. But, Luz wasn’t about to quit just yet. “You have... a really pretty voice,” they yawned out, the girl leaning against Elsa’s side as the fight against sleep slowly became a hopeless battle. 

#fiiimbulvetr #「 human teasures || asks 」 #「 luz || ic 」 #「 luz || verse 12 」

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {17}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 16. Oh Brothers

17. Never Again

Hans knew it was ill-advised-- because everyone told him so. Still, he was a determined man, and doubly determined to make sure that he made himself useful. So after a few weeks and Hans could pick up his sword from the bureau, he had someone fetch him a cane, and walked out of his room escorted by Captain Kristofferson, to meet the guards they had wrangled up. 

 "Gentlemen," He announced, as he arrived, setting down a stack of papers he had brought with him. "I am Hans, and I have had many titles. Prince of the Southern Isles, Admiral of the same, treasonist, prisoner, fool, and advisor; I'm sure I'm missing a few. To you I am 'trainer' or 'teacher'. I'm here to ensure that people like me can't get past people like you again, so we don't have another raid like what happened a few weeks past. When I'm back in form after having been stabbed in the recent raid, I'll teach you all how to run to catch those who would flee, to fight those who would attack, and to stamp out any cowardice or fear of pain you have. At the end of training we will all have bruises, we will all want a heavy drink, and some of you may hate me, but you'll be a good set of guards in the end." 

 "Some of you were thwarted by a snow-child specifically meant to be kept out of a room you were guarding, and others had no problem letting a prince from another country casually take control of a kingdom. I had better not see abject failure to perform your duties like that again. That you now have a treasoner standing before you telling you how to do your damned jobs is a disgrace, and you need to be aware of that." He paused, looking over the guard staff, standing tall and speaking with the authority of the Commander of the Navy that he had once been. 

 "So, it's a very good thing that we're wiping that slate clean." He gestured to brush his hands off, leaning on his cane as he did. "From here on out, your motto is 'never again and never before'. You will never let that happen again, and it never happened. When you get hit in sparring, it has never happened before and it will never happen again. When you fail to complete physical training, it has never happened before and it will never happen again. When you fail, it will be a unique experience and you will learn from it or by god I will make you learn from it. You are here to guard the Queen of Arendelle, not to protect a sweet-shop in the market square from children. If you don't have an excuse from the doctor, you will train daily. If you aren't mourning a family loss or having a baby, you will be at work, and if you make a mistake you will own up to it and you will deal with the consequences like a man, and carry on with life as normal. And if we're all good at what we do, and we're all alive and well, we might even have a bit of fun with it. I've never been a man of the lash, I've always been more for drinking with the men, but I will bring it back if I have to. Now, everyone, pick up a paper and a pencil. I need to know where you're all at. I'll never have anyone do anything I wouldn't do, once my wound is fully healed I'll train right alongside the rest of you, and I'll challenge you to best me at every step. For now, let's get to know you and your experience." Hans was, and it was easy to forget, a military man. He knew how to command men and how to motivate them, both positively and negatively. 

The papers asked a number of questions. Name, Age, rank, years of experience; but it also included questions about travel, how many languages one spoke, personal hobbies; strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing. Some things were intellectual questions about math or logic, some were morality questions. It was a strange hodgepodge of all sorts of questions, almost at random. ~~*~~

The majority guard consisted of men from their late teens/early twenties to mid-forties. There were a few outliers of course, but it's seemed like an accurate representation. The age differences seemed to split the men into two categories: the seasoned members that had been serving since before the Coronation and the new recruits who started serving after, many of them joining recently after the raid. So there were a lot of old dogs and new blood in the mix. There had been some murmurs among the men. Mostly among the new cadets, as well as some of the stubborn old men. A lot of them had been taken aback, when they found out the infamous Hans of the Southern Isles would be their training teacher. The newest recruits had only heard rumors of the Prince's return to Arendelle, they had not witnessed him taking charge during the raid nor understood why he was no longer a prisoner. Even if they were supposedly wiping the slate clean and having a fresh start, there was still some notable doubt among them, yet none of them spoke up to voice their concerns. They did as they were told and picked up a paper and pencil, at least they were good at following orders.

Hans adjusted himself to sit on the desk a while, to give them all time to work. 

 "When you're done, turn in your papers up front. If for whatever reason you can't complete a question, come to me and ask. I'm a bit of a bastard, yes, but I'll never tease you for an affliction like not knowing a word or not knowing how to read entirely. Indeed, if any of you know anyone who can't hear and needs a job, bring them here. Deaf people are oft good guards, and unfortunately overlooked. Hell, a few particularly ambitious women wouldn't hurt the guard staff either. We're a bit short staffed, by the look of things." He looked among the room. It was packed tight, but the room was already fairly small for the kingdom's guard staff. "Perhaps things are done differently in the Isles, but I don't understand how a kingdom can exist so readily with so few guards. I suppose I should be glad we lasted as long as we did, during the raid. It isn't the fault of any one man, nor even the group of you, I suppose. I cannot fault a fisherman for not catching fish, if none taught him how. At any rate, this is not a graded test." 

 He waited patiently until the tests were turned in, then stood up again. He moved more slowly, but hid how much pain he was in. "I'll look at these tests a bit later. If you have concerns, feel free to bring them to me privately, I'm sure you know where I'm staying." He offered, leaning heavily on his cane. "Now that that's done, let's clear the air a bit. You all have questions, I can see. I have answers, and I'm not opposed to giving them. Go ahead and ask, I can't do much physical training with you yet, after my own injuries, but I can train your minds, and I've precious little else to do while I'm healing. So, give me your best shot. Ask your questions, 'what did this son of a bitch do to deserve this job'?" He was still a sailor, and there were no royals around. He could curse if he damned well pleased. He waited to see who had questions to ask.

It was rather quiet, with only a few hushed voices murmuring among each other. It seemed no one would be brave enough to question Hans, then all of a sudden the silence was broken. 

 "What did you do?" one of the new recruits boldly asked. Surprised, everyone turned to look at the young man. "'Cause last most of us have heard, you were the traitor of Arendelle, tryin' to take over the throne." There were gasps at the cadet's audacity to ask. Even with all the eyes on him the boy stood tall and not sheepish about what he'd just asked. Hans had offered after all, everyone was thinking it, so why not dare to ask to get the answers they wanted?

Hans chuckled a little. "Brave boy, I'll teach you how to lead. It takes guts to ask those questions before others, guts that leaders need and followers need to learn to use." He observed. "I was the traitor, yes. I had my reasons, reasons I'm sure I'll tell you all about at some point, but rest assured they weren't very good. I came back to tell my side of the story and make amends. For more reasons, I was in the castle at the time of the raid. Because the castle rooms aren't built as a prison cell, the doors were left unlocked and guards left, under the assumption that they would be able to stop me if I tried to leave. I won't postulate about whether or not that's a correct assumption, but I never tried the door until I heard the sound change in the hall, and the guards understandably gone. Then I went searching for a sword, to help fend off the attackers. By the time I got to the Queen's side, even Captain Kristofferson was down, so the Queen and I held off much of the attack until Anna's boyfriend -Lord Kristoff, I believe?- came in with bow and arrows. The fight wasn't fun, but we managed against nigh impossible odds. I got stabbed in the process and caught a pommel to the face, the Queen got a slight scratch to her face and an injured arm." He explained. "As it turns out, the pommel truly is the way to 'end them rightly'." That was a very niche and obscure joke he didn't expect a single one of them to understand. As if to illustrate his point regarding wounds, he raised the hem of his shirt so they could see the unpleasant wound to his side, stitches gone, but the wound still red and warped. "It's not my first, nor my last scar, in battle or otherwise, and I was already healing from the lashes one gets for being a traitor in the navy, if you'd like to see those scars, too." He gestured to his back, but didn't show them immediately. He looked more amused than bothered. "Does that answer your question? I'm afraid I do love to ramble, feel free to ask more."

"Yes, sir." The young man answered with a nod. There was a brief silence yet again. 

 "Question," someone else spoke up. This time it was one of the older men. "About the paper we just filled out. The questions made sense, for the most part, but some of them seemed rather arbitrary, for example asking about our personal hobbies. I don't understand how exactly knowing that information has anything to do with training?"

Hans smiled a bit and shrugged. "Whom do you send to learn tactics for battle-- the man who prefers swordplay, or the man who prefers games of skill? The answer is games, for tactics are just strategy games with a risk. Who do you send to battle, the gambler or the logician? The gambler, because he understands chance. Westergaard ways are old ways, I prepare for sieges and swordplay, as well as modern diplomacy. Does anyone know why Deaf guards are so very useful?" He asked, and glanced between them, to see if there would be answers. "A Deaf man on a ship cannot be fazed by cannon fire around him, a Deaf guard in a castle chamber cannot spill secrets. Every man has his use and every hobby has its useful applications, if only we can find them. We in Arendelle have the unique experience of living in an era under which ice is our greatest tactical advantage, so if any of you happen to enjoy ice-skating-- you'll be the finest swordsmen we'll have by the time I'm through with you. If you have good aim, archers. If you favor brute strength, zweihanders and door-breakers, if you prefer to run, we'll have ammunition runners and recovery men. Everyone will have their uses and be able to be dispatched at notice. I will get to know your names and your stories over time, as will Captain Kristofferson, so we will know where to send you at a moment's notice when you're needed. We'll see who's the best not by bragging, but by practice, and everyone here will be the best in the squad at something." He paused, and rolled his neck, to pop it and let the silence hang a moment. "Every man has his use. Does anyone know why a cat is a necessary crewman at sea?" He waited patiently, to see if anyone would answer.

"Vermin," answered one of the men. "To keep rats from eating everything," added another. "They've got nine lives," one remarked more humorously.

Hans laughed. "Yes I am, but what about the cat?" He joked dryly. "For the mice, precisely, but their luck doesn't hurt either! If the ships had mice, the mice would eat the food, and the men would have no food to eat. Thus, we would have a dead crew and a dead ship, all for the lack of one hungry cat. Who among you will be our hungry cat? Someone will be the lynchpin of success, and it could be for any reason, in any event. Who will be Fletcher, the young man in the crow's nest who could point out pirates in a fog too thick to see the fore from the aft? Who will be the cannoneer Grym, with perfect aim? There is a niche for each of you to fill, in order to make a perfect crew, and without the right ones, we may fall. So, I will find you your niche, if you don't find it for yourself." He assured, already getting excited about the prospect. "And as soon as this damned wound heals, we are going to have ourselves a hunt." He rubbed his hands together, already excited at the prospect. "For now... who wants to try some sword fighting? I'm reasonably confident I can take any one of you injured, and I'd like to see you bastards prove me wrong." He grinned playfully, clearly just trying to get them in the spirit of the game, and get them geared up to beat him at sword fighting.

The men's laughter rumbled throughout the room. Hans had managed to boost the troops' morale to start their training and him opening up for questions had seemed to ease some of their doubts. 

 "I'd gladly oblige to your challenge Westergaard, just to try to prove you wrong, I like seemingly impossible odds. Though it's highly likely you're still able to kick my hind, even in your current condition, I don't think the Queen would be to thrilled if she found out I returned you more scratched up than you are now, that is if I managed to surprise even myself by beating you," chuckled Captain Kristofferson. "I'll also take you up on your offer, for real, once you're in peak condition, even if that means the odds are against me. It'll hurt my pride to lose, even if it's just in practice and 'it never happened', but if it helps me improve myself in any way to better protect Arendelle I'll do it in a heartbeat. I hope you're all committed to do the same." He declared, taking the lead trying to set the example to his men as is to be expected of a Captain.

Hans rubbed his hands together. "Excellent, let's show the men a good sporting game, shall we? Out to the yards then, tell me you've got some good practice swords? I expect to have to order you all a whole new armory, but practice swords should absolutely be standard. I don't know whether I'll be more disappointed if they're falling to pieces, or if they're new." He warned. He still leaned on his cane somewhat as he moved. "Luckily my injury isn't on my sword-arm side. You might stand a chance if I had to operate left-handed." He teased. In spite of the cane, he moved quickly enough. He moved out to the practice yard, and claimed himself a practice sword closer to a navy cutlass than his own bastard sword, with a few practice swings. "This'll do." He then went about checking the space to clear it out, and used the point of it to hack a few rings into the space. 

 "Who was present during the raid?" He asked, when he was done, moving himself to the center of the rings he had made. "Who, if any among you, recalls what direction I shouted as I passed by to find the Queen? What advice did I give? And, why am I asking?" He loved to challenge them with questions, in between making them laugh. He was glad to see they had a sense of humor about them. That was more or less how he led ships, too.

There were various voices that answered: 

 "Press in!"

 "Repel them back!"

  "Hold the line!"

 As Hans was having a teaching moment, the Captain was choosing his sword, he decided to go with a standard arming sword.

Hans clasped his hands over his wooden sword-hilt and looked so proud. 

 "My god, you actually listened." He seemed genuinely touched at the idea. He took a moment, then cleared his throat a little. "Now, today we're going to see what I mean by that. We can all see where I'm starting, yes? Bulls-eye." He gestured down, standing in the middle of the field. 

"Captain, drive me as far from this point as you can, and I'll try to defend without moving from the bulls-eye. Then we'll switch, and see who can press the other back furthest. You know the rules, only thieves try to hit family jewels, ey? And I'd like my head as un-cracked as possible while I'm still recovering from my two recent near-death experiences. Otherwise, do your damnedest, or I'll never stop giving you shit about it." He flourished with his wooden blade a little, and readied himself. The Hans who trained men was certainly a different man from the Prince Hans who was all 'Your Majesty's and 'Good Sir's. He suspected this Hans was the one the men would learn from best.

"I won't go easy on you just because your wounded Westergaard, I know you won't hold back either, and I'm quite aware I'll never hear the end of it if I don't give it my all," affirmed the Captain with a nod, holding his sword with both hands in the ready position. Once he saw Hans was ready he charged him with all his might.

"Good, because you'll never hear the end of it when you lose to a wounded man, either." Hans teased. He proved to be an agile fighter, in spite of his cane, which he seemed to have forgotten about, fallen to the ground. He defended and parried skillfully, using short thrusts and sharp raps about the shins to force the Captain to back up as best he could, stepping to one side or ducking or even turning -into- attacks to avoid being forced back. He didn't hit hard, because that wasn't the purpose; nor did he aim to disarm, because that would've gone against the point. He simply aimed to hold his ground. While injured, of course, this was no easy task. Being limited to a circle was a difficult business, and this was certainly the challenged position to begin in. He was forced back once or twice by attacks to his weak side, which he was forced to defend more carefully against, but he regained his position by stepping in close and aiming for weak parts of the abdomen, or careful strikes near the neck. He said he wouldn't attack the head, but he'd never said anything about the throat. He was all business during the fight, perhaps entirely because he had to be, as he was recovering. He kept his free hand over his wound, to protect it from getting any worse, but he never flinched from a blow, even if it did make one of his many injuries hurt.

  "I think we've quite made our point, Captain? We never did specify an endgame, my fool mistake, but if I reopen any of my wounds, my doctor may simply stitch me up with a burlap like a sack-doll, so I ought to be careful." He chuckled a little, clearly wearing a little, himself. He would be the first to admit that he wasn't in full form, and he doubted the Captain was, either. They had proved the point, that was the necessity. The battle was short, but illustrative. "Shall we switch?"

" Of course," agreed the Captain. "Wouldn't want to get an earful from the doctor and much less displease her Majesty by being the one responsible in completing your transformation from man to hessian." They switched places, and the Captain was trying to prepare himself for Hans swordsmanship as the one charging, he knew the younger man was far more experienced in swordplay than he and the only he could really do was try to stand his ground as best he could for as long as he could manage.

 "I'm tempted to say you think far too much of her Majesty's opinion of me." Hans pointed out. The first time he said it, it was an amusing aside. Now he was beginning to wonder what exactly their reputation in the castle was. "You're not implying anything, are you? About Her Majesty or I?" He seemed genuinely thrown by that idea. It took him a moment to think about that, before he began his assault. He started easy, throwing a few attacks, defending a few others. Then as he got back into the rhythm, he took his own message-- Press in. He stepped into the Captain's personal space, ignoring the lines, shoving the other's sword away to get as close as humanly possible. He was also not above throwing in an elbow or a knee. Swordsmanship was one thing, but in close combat, a dagger was more useful, and an elbow would do in the meanwhile. Again, he didn't do it painfully, he was illustrating a point. His goal was not to hurt the Captain, nor to disarm him, but simply to push him out. That was the advice that he gave to the Arendelle guards-- push forward.

"Not at all, I'm not implying anything," the Captain retorted, stern shake of the head. "Just indicating the Queen's compassion, and that it wouldn't look good on my behalf as her Guard's Captain if I mistreat an already injured man." The Captain was just calling it like he saw it, Elsa clearly cared about the Prince's well-being that was undeniable, he wasn't insinuating anything about their relationship, he would never presumptuously speak ill of the Queen. 

 The Captain had not expected Hans to get up so close and personal in his combat, he was finding it quite difficult to continue to roll with the punches. Hans was good at using him as a dummy to demonstrate the tactic.

"Oh good, I might've been a little thrown, then." Hans teased gently, sounding much less bothered now. "My brother Eduard was always much better at this tactic," He admitted, even slipping past the Captain, only to turn and hook his throat with an arm. Harmless, no blade contact, but enough to halt the defense. "But he was good at getting into men's personal spaces for much different reasons." He let the insinuation be playfully scandalous for the men to ponder over. He twisted to kick the Captain's leg out from under him and bring them both down-- though Hans came down on his knee, and grunted a bit as his wound moved painfully. "Ah, and there's where my doctor yells at me." He huffed, cringing at the pain he inflicted upon himself. The landing for the Captain would have been softer, all on the grass, nothing contorted or twisted, just uncomfortable. 

 "Alright then, well done, Captain." He stood back up, though struggling a little with his wound, and offered a hand to help the other up just the same. "Now then, lessons: See how far we moved?" He gestured down at the ground. "I gave the Captain no choice but to retreat, by getting into his personal space. It limited my opportunities, but I am familiar with one of my favorite rules of swordplay: Swords alone are for duels. Wars are won by teeth and pommels, sand in the eyes and dirty tricks. Use your elbows, use your knees, use your god-given wits before you lose them. Hell, use your head if you fancy it's hard enough. Watch your environment, know your opponent. Are they chatty? Wounded? Favoring their left? Do they excel at power or balance? Lord, I think I'm done with demonstrations for the afternoon." He laughed somewhat painfully and used his sword to pick up his cane, to use that. "Don't let me catch any of you using a sword as a cane either, wood or no. Else I'll teach you what a sword is for the way we do in the Isles." He huffed a little, leaning on it. He really needed to be more cautious.

 The Captain took his hand and stood up quickly, not wanting to weigh him down. "We might have been a bit too ambitious. How about we --and I mostly mean you-- don't do anymore physical demonstrations ey, Westergaard? At least until you manage to heal that up well enough not to damage it again, lest you wish to keep the injury there indefinitely. I'll handle the physical training myself until you're up to the mark, you shouldn't worry about anything other than writing up guidance or giving out orders before that time comes. Don't worry I'll be as rigorous as you intend to be, can't cut them any slack. Got to give it our all from the set about else they're bound to rout later, once you're finally ready to train them for real. You might be in charge of retraining, but it's still my job to command the troops."

 Hans chuckled dryly. "Ah, but it's just not as fun for me." He joked. "A little pain never stopped me from a damn thing, but you are right, her Majesty would be vexed by me hurting myself, so I'd best not do that again for a bit. I wasn't really planning to do that, to be frank I was expecting the written test to take longer." He glanced at the sky to check the time. He didn't exactly have a watch, as a prisoner. "I'm just showing my pains now so you'll keep me honest." Why else would he? Pain was useless to him. "I'll see about writing up some simple physical fitness goals and exercises for you to train them with. I may start borrowing men periodically to speak to them about these tests, get to know a few." He looked over at the men pensively.

  "So then, that, my dear boys, is what we call a Pyrrhic victory, something I'm quite prone to. Is a win still a win when you've lost as much as you've gained? That's a philosophical subject for you to decide. For me, as long as whatever I do improves the chances of her Majesty surviving another raid, I'll take my pains and be glad about it. Pain just means I'm still alive enough to suffer it, but maybe that's just a philosophy one gets with twelve older brothers. So, what do we think of me? Hm? Am I good enough to train her Majesty's guards after my wound is properly healed?" He wanted to see, was the murmuring and skepticism still there? Had he won them over? Or were there yet holdouts who hated him? They were the ones he wanted to speak with first and longest.

The men all silently looked at once another for a moment. Then some voices started to spark from the crowd.

  "Yeah!"

  "For Arendelle!"

 The voices all got louder and echoed among the men, they all seemed rather animated, cheering and raising their fists in a sign of support, if there were still any embittered people among them they surely didn't seem to stand out anymore.

Hans seemed, not just surprised, but genuinely touched. In a way, it was bittersweet. They believed him so readily, they genuinely thought he wanted to help Arendelle. And, he did. But god, how did they believe it? What had he done to deserve that same loyalty that he got from his crew. 

 He fixed his usual confident look to his face, with a wry smile. "Excellent. Keep that spirit, men. And do come to visit me if you want to talk about anything. God knows I'm bored, healing. I'll take these papers, and leave you to it, returning to my... room?" He looked at the Captain, almost raising an eyebrow. "I'll be perfectly honest... I'm still not used to not calling it a cell." Did that say more about him, or what he was used to?

 "Anyway, I should be off, before I do some other demonstration and accidentally kill myself." He laughed dryly. In truth, he was leaving so he could get to his room and try not to cry again, this time with, what, relief? It was a good feeling, whatever it was. Bittersweet.

#Helsa #Iceburns #Hans x Elsa #Frozen #Fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #fanfic #Shattered Reflections

[bluestmoons]

@solhjerte​ gets a starter 😏

   “Anna.” 

   Elsa had been avoiding her for days -- but, of course, that wasn’t hugely unusual of her. If she were even a particle less anxious, perhaps she’d feel more guilty over that. ( Guilt was a rather familiar companion, after all. She may do what was expected of her -- but that didn’t mean she oft enjoyed it. ) 

   Instead, her anxiety is making her more rigid than normal -- shut down and stern in a way she was so often with strangers and so rarely with Anna. Her gloved hands are clasped in front of her -- her back is straight -- her chin is tilted upwards -- and she feels too warm, and somewhat weak. 

   “We need to talk.” 

#[ i'm sorry my icon's so dark... i don't have any of my frozen 1 icons anymore so i had to MAKE DO ] #( the rising of. ) elsa. #( the light of. ) elsa. #solhjerte #( v. canon. ) elsa.