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worflesbian · 9 months

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Klingons & Racialisation - the Long Post

This post is an overview of the racial coding of the Klingons from their first appearance to the present day, illustrated by quotes from Trek writers, actors and crew members taken from the Memory Alpha article Depicting Klingons, with my own interjected summaries and explanations. It is by no means comprehensive (I likely missed some stuff), and does not offer critical analysis of the quotes provided, but nonetheless is intended to demonstrate irreproachably the open fact that Klingons have always been intentionally written and designed as non-white -- something that fandom consistently fails to take into account when perpetuating racist stereotypes and reiterating racist canon content. I recommend reading the whole article for a more in-depth understanding of the subject, as well as seeking out the existing writing of fans of colour. This post is primarily for reference purposes so I've tried to limit my own analysis and opinions, but I do post those in my Klingon tag as well as more general headcanons and worldbuilding and I'm happy to answer any (good faith) questions this post may raise.

As always, if I have overstepped in any way as a white fan in making this post, I am grateful to be informed and will make any required changes.

Content warning for outdated and offensive language under the cut.

The Original Series

"There is some suggestion that the Klingons represent a Cold Warrior's view of China in the 1960s – swarthy, brutally repressive." (Star Trek Magazine issue 153, p. 66) "And I think he was basing a lot of it on the kind of attitude of the Japanese in World War II...." ("Errand of Mercy" Starfleet Access, TOS Season 1 Blu-ray) The script of "Errand of Mercy" introduces the Klingon look by saying, "We see the Klingons are Orientals," "Spray my hair black, give me a kind of swamp creature green olivey mud reptilian make-up, and we'll borrow some stuff from Fu Manchu, and put a long moustache and eyebrows on me." ("The Sword of Colicos", Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - The Official Poster Magazine, No. 8) "I think the makeup was called 'Mexican #1 or #2.' That was the name of the original makeup foundation – they actually had kind of racist names at the time, like 'Negro #1' and 'Mexican #2' – which was the basis for the original Star Trek makeups." (Star Trek Magazine issue 172, p. 59) "In the original series, all they wore was a dark face and their black hair," Michael Westmore observed. ("Michael Westmore's Aliens: Season Two", DS9 Season 2 DVD special features) The Klingons' appearance changed within the original Star Trek series; although dark makeup and heavy eyebrows were the norm, the Klingons of "The Trouble with Tribbles" were much lighter-skinned and more Human-like in appearance.... He noticed that they are not only less like Mongol warriors by having less of a swarthy appearance but also by being slightly not as fierce... ("The Trouble with Tribbles" Starfleet Access, TOS Season 2 Blu-ray) "...they were meant to represent the Communist foes of the United States specifically during the Vietnam War, which was being controversially fought at that time. (Star Trek: The Original Series 365, p. 222) "...let us never set up a situation whereby those adversaries of ours [Klingons] give any indication of ever being anything but highly aggressive and self-seeking opponents." (These Are the Voyages: TOS Season Three)

Here it is explicitly stated that the Klingons were based on various Asian cultures, with the USSR also being mentioned heavily in the article. This influence and the use of "yellowface" is covered more comprehensively in this youtube video Klingons & The History Of Racial Coding. However, the video has some notable gaps which I hope to cover in this post.

Post-TOS (movies)

The Star Trek III portrayal of Klingons took inspiration from Japanese history. "Harve [Bennett] had the notion that the Klingons were like Samurai warriors," explained linguist Marc Okrand. (Star Trek: Communicator issue 114, p. 27) Robert Fletcher agreed with Bennett, later saying of the Klingons, "I always liked to think of them as authoritarian, almost feudal, like Japan had been." (The Making of the Trek Films, UK 3rd ed., p. 52) Regarding the make-up, Michael Westmore observed, "Until now, Klingons were brown. Some had a bony ridge running down the middle of their foreheads, long black wigs and facial hair." (Star Trek: The Next Generation Makeup FX Journal, p. 28) "I thought it was an ideal way for us to have our closure too, because the Klingons for us have always been the Communist Block, the Evil Empire. It just made sense to do that story." (The Making of the Trek Films, UK 3rd ed., p. 100) "Gene was really bothered by the Klingons in VI [....] [They] were, in his words, 'too civilized, too decent, too much of the good guys in the story.' [....] [The Klingon detente] was not the way Gene would have handled it. He would have reversed it, he would have had the Klingons being the ones who couldn't handle the peace, with the Federation saying, 'Come on, let's try and work this out.'" (Star Trek Movie Memories, hardback ed., p. 289) "The story never explored the Klingon culture the way I'd hoped it would [....] I was hoping for greater insight into the Klingons." (I Am Spock) Nimoy hoped, in specific, that the movie would provide some important insight into why the Klingons had "always been so angry, such nasty, vicious murderers." Nimoy wanted the insightful knowledge to be an intellectually transformational force, changing the thinking of Kirk and the audience. (Star Trek Movie Memories, hardback ed., pp. 287-288) In an interview in the DS9 Season 7 DVD, Robert O'Reilly observed that a long-running joke among actors who have played Klingons is that they do not want to appear in the Star Trek films as, he believes, the only purpose of a Klingon in one of the films was to be killed off.

Although these last three quotes may not seem relevant, I believe they highlight an important facet of the racialisation of the Klingons. It reads as though Gene Roddenberry was against depicting the Klingons in a more sympathetic light than the Federation, and considering that the Klingons are intended to be non-white, refusing to give depth or motive to their anger in favour of keeping them "nasty, vicious murderers" comes across as fairly racist, especially when these kind of reductive and harmful stereotypes could've been challenged as Nimoy suggests. The treatment of Klingons as disposable villains is also concerning in this context.

The Next Generation

African-American actors were often cast as Klingons in TNG and subsequent Star Trek productions. This practice wasn't racially motivated but was instead carried out because it lessened makeup time, as the performers already had a brown complexion without having to have their skin painted that color. (Stardate Revisited: The Origin of Star Trek: TNG, Part 2: Launch, TNG Season 1 Blu-ray) Tony Todd, who portrayed the recurring Klingon character Kurn, stated, "I don't look at the Klingons necessarily as African-Americans, but it's about tapping into something–they're certainly an alienated people, so maybe that's why African-American actors can identify with those characters. But that doesn't mean it's exclusive to them." (Star Trek: Communicator issue 116, p. 54) Michael Westmore actually changed the Klingon facial design in numerous ways, though. He stated, "I added a Shakespearean style of facial hair and a forehead bone structure based on dinosaur vertebrae and I was able to modify motion picture Klingons for television." (Star Trek: Aliens & Artifacts, p. 59) In "A Matter Of Honor", the Klingons were intended to be used to shed some light on a common social problem prevalent at the time of the episode's making. This was, namely, what it was like to be the only person of either white or black skin coloration while surrounded by people of the other color. The Klingons were selected to illustrate this theme as a spin on the usual arrangement of a predominantly Human crew serving aboard the Enterprise-D alongside Worf. (Captains' Logs: The Unauthorized Complete Trek Voyages, p. 176) Two historical societies, the Samurai and Vikings, served as other inspirations, Moore perceiving about Klingon culture, "There was the calm, elegant reserve associated with the Samurai but there was the 'party-down' like the Vikings." (Star Trek: Communicator issue 114, p. 58) "I stopped thinking of the Klingons as the Cold War adversary," he explained. "I didn't think it fit [....] The place where the Russians were when I was doing the Klingon shows just wasn't as relevant any more." (Star Trek: The Magazine Volume 1, Issue 19, pp. 64-65) "The Klingons are not evil, tyrannical pirates bent only on pillage and plunder. They have a strict, almost unyielding code of ethics and honor and take their responsibilities as rulers seriously." Following a description of the Klingon homeworld, the memo continued by saying, "Klingon society could most closely be compared to that of Sparta or feudal Japan." ("Sins of the Father" audio commentary, TNG Season 3 Blu-ray) Having recently seen the film Malcolm X, he imagined the Klingons in the "Birthright" duology as metaphors for black people. (Captains' Logs: The Unauthorized Complete Trek Voyages, p. 274; Star Trek: Communicator issue 105, p. 16) "There's a certain way you have to carry yourself. You have to really be able to project the violence and the anger [....] All you have to do is think of the Spartans. They say, 'They'd rather have you come home dead on your shield than come home a coward.' [18]

This is where I feel the video essay previously mentioned falls short -- in the next gen era, Klingons are now explicitly black-coded. While some Asian cultural influences are still cited, they learn more towards the historical and are intermixed with other historical European influences (Spartans, Vikings, Shakespeare) rather than being fueled by contemporary prejudices towards the political enemies of the US as they were in the TOS era.

Deep Space Nine

Fields also generally based the Klingon group on American Western prototypes from the film The Magnificent Seven or, to a lesser extent, Japanese prototypes from The Magnificent Seven's movie source material, Seven Samurai. (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (pp. 131-132)) "So, the hair [...] was permed. So, it had more of a curl instead of the straight type look, and by perming it, they were able to kind of give them larger, bigger hair, so it was more like a mane." ("Michael Westmore's Aliens: Season Two", DS9 Season 2 DVD special features) "I don't know how you could equate Klingons with what's going on in the world today," he admitted. "I think the intention was to make them like samurai. That hairdo they gave them is very much a samurai hairdo. A lot of the fight sequences, the moves with the bat'telh, are very much taken out of the Asian martial arts [....] It's very romantic you know, these three old guys, the Klingon over-the-hill gang." (The Official Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Magazine issue 15, pp. 17-18) "It was different for them to get into this makeup, because [...] [the makeup was more elaborate and] the beards were bigger, and they were greyer, and they had curls to them, and the moustaches, they had the Fu Manchu look to them. So, they weren't used to sitting that long to be a Klingon." ("Michael Westmore's Aliens: Season Two", DS9 Season 2 DVD special features) For recreating some old-style Klingons in "Trials and Tribble-ations", the Klingon-playing actors had to be made up with the same swarthy, shiny brown makeup as used in the original series. (The Magic of Tribbles: The Making of Trials and Tribble-ations) ...he had them unite in song, thinking this was "just the kind of thing that Klingons do" because they are, in his opinion, similar to Vikings. (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (p. 449)) "I always saw the Klingons as a combination of Japanese Samurai who haven't had their morning coffee (or tea!) and African Zulu warriors." [25]

In DS9 the only inspirations cited seem to be historical, once again leaning towards feudal Japan and the Vikings. Interestingly although the Klingons here are predominantly dark-skinned, I don't think that J.G. Hertzler, who is white, had his skin significantly darkened to play Martok (at least, not compared to the obvious brown makeup worn by other white actors playing Klingons). Having a white actor play a Klingon without dark makeup could've set a precedent decreasing the use of such practices later on, but no one seems to have picked up on it.

Enterprise

The Klingons of ENT: "Sleeping Dogs" were based on the crew of the Russian submarine Kursk. "For me," said Dekker, "the point was to acknowledge the Klingons as 'people' – to find them in a clear position of distress [....] The idea to 'humanize' their plight was mine, and it wasn't anything I thought about as far as canon. It just seemed right." (Star Trek: The Official Starships Collection, issue 41, pp. 10-12) In the final draft script of "Affliction", the altered Klingons were initially referred to as "fierce-looking aliens" and were further described thus; "The aliens have a swarthy complexion, and dark facial hair... they could easily be mistaken for Humans. We'll eventually learn these are Klinqons... but their cranial ridges have disappeared."

At this point in time it seems the Klingons had essentially done a 180 from one-dimensional villains to sympathetic fan favourites, while still retaining the skin-darkening aspect of their makeup and "barbaric" characterisation. Although this is not mentioned in the article's section on the Abrams films, the images provided do demonstrate a level of skin darkening for the Klingons' brief appearance in Into Darkness.

The final section of the article is incomplete, meaning I don't have a lot of information for Discovery's redesign of the Klingons. The sources I can find cite ancient civilisations such as the Byzantines as well as Islamic architecture as inspiration for the set design, with a baroque influence on the costumes. I have heard rumours that the crew of Discovery have cited North African cultures as their inspiration for the Klingons but I can't currently find a source for this. Despite the lack of direct quotes, it's visibly clear that the Klingon makeup is still darkening the skin of white actors, although this time also to non-human blue and purple colours, as well as altering certain features in a racialised way. To elaborate: Mary Chieffo, who plays L'Rell on Discovery, is white and has a very thin nose and small lips, but in costume these are broadened in a way that seems imitative of African ethnic features.

As of the making of this post (early August 2023) I haven't seen any of Strange New Worlds, but from some cursory research its latest episode (Subspace Rhapsody) seems to have put a white actor (Bruce Horak) in brown makeup to play a Klingon. I am deeply disappointed that on a television set in 2023 people can still be darkening an actors skin like this without questioning the racial implications of what they're doing.

Thank you for reading to the end of this post. Please feel free to link to it if you found it useful enough to cite in another context. I would like to reiterate that I am white and while this is an issue I care deeply about it is not one I have an emic understanding of, and if anything I've said here is inappropriate I would be very grateful to be made aware.

#ive tried to make this like. really formal to cover the fact that im fuckin Ragin at snw for doing literal fucking brownface in 2023 #next up top ten things fans should Fucking Reconsider saying about klingon characters #anyway #i feel like as a white trekkie who's big into klingons there's this insane blindspot when it comes to The Racism #that ive only ever seen fans of colour talk about #so if i have one goal for this post its to try and reduce that blindspot a bit and give people something concrete to point to #when some fuckwits in their notes acting as tho ~theyre aliens so it cant be racist~#tlhIngan #ghItlhpu'wIj

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infinite-hearts-333 · 1 day

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THE BEAST.

Oura Thorn’s powers are based of a character from a movie, but unfortunately that movie is King Kong Skull Island, so expect scary thing. If your not a fan of death, cannibalism, yummy digestive facts and good scary CGI, i wouldn’t recommend reading the part called “THE INSPIRATION” and skip right to “WHAT IS THE BEAST?”.

The space rider au belongs to @onyxonline

THE INSPIRATION.

Alright! Oura Thorn’s power is based of two entities, the SkullCrawler from King Kong, for body, strength and speed, and Jörmungandr, the world serpent for purpose.

SkullCrawlers were my main source of bodily anatomy guide for the Beast. A massive, horrific bulky beast built like a tank and filled with an unstoppable desire to kill. This creature was intelligent, fast and ruthless. Not to mention metal as hell. The stomach acid in this thing was strong enough that the Skullcrawler eats someone, whole, and then regurgitates the bones thirty minutes later! That’s some strong ass acid. It is described by the Gojipedia that :

“Skullcrawlers are subterranean pack-hunting predators with insatiable appetites that are the results of their heightened metabolisms. Because of this, it is suggested that male and female Skullcrawlers will almost always devour each other after mating. They are highly aggressive, as well as incredibly persistent in pursuing their prey.”

And trust me if you haven’t see the movie, you do NOT wanna end up alone with even one of these freaks.

Jörmungandr is a creature of Norse mythology, also known as the Midgard Serpent or World serpent, and is an unfathomably large sea serpent or worm who dwells in the world sea, encircling the Earth (Midgard) and biting his own tail, an example of an ouroboros. In some scripts and stories- Jörmungandr is described as a Lindworm, which is a subspecies of dragon. Jörmungandr was the middle child of Loki, the Norse trickster god and the giant Angrboða. It was foretold that Odin took Loki’s children and removed them from Asgard. For Jörmungandr, they were tossed into the great ocean that encircles Midgard. There, in the ocean, the serpent grew so large that it could surround earth and grasp its own tail. Jörmungandr and Thor, the Norse thunder god, have a on-going feud and see each other as arch foes. During Ragnarök, Jörmungandr and Thor are foretold to fight each other to the death.

As recounted in Snorri's Gylfaginning:

“The sea will flood and the serpent will thrash onto the land. It will advance, spraying poison to fill the air and water, beside Fenrir, whose eyes and nostrils blaze with fire and whose gape touches the earth and the sky. They will join the sons of Muspell to confront the gods on the plain of Vigrid. Here is where the last meeting between the serpent and Thor is predicted to occur. He will eventually kill Jörmungandr but will fall dead after walking nine paces, having been poisoned by the serpent's deadly venom.”

It is said when Jörmungandr releases its tail is one of the signs of the beginning of Ragnarök (the final battle of the world, or the ‘end of the world as we know it’).

WHAT IS THE BEAST?

The Beast is a bipedal Lindworm with only two frontal limbs and a long thick tail for balance. It is covered in thick armoured plates, with jutting spines down the length of its neck, and the back of its head / cheeks, like Thorn does. Equiped with thick horns and a thicker skull, it can about ram down anything in its path with enough momentum. It is thin and nimble, and tanks a lot more than it looks like it can, using the large muscles in its arms and tail to be able to move fast, or catch prey. Its maw is filled with forward facing teeth, like a canine, but its throat and back of its mouth is filled with backwards facing spines, to grip prey and prevent escaping. Its tongue is long and flexible, capable of snagging someone and dragging them straight into their toothy demise.

The Beast only forces it’s presence when it senses an extreme unbalance in the world around it, forcing itself into control to eradicate any ‘pests’ or ‘weeds’ that would corrupt the survival of the world they are on. Although, just like Jörmungandr, eradicating the pest, also means the ‘end of the world’- destroying large amounts of civilisations, and killing many innocents in the process. Luckily, for Thorn, that hasn’t happened, yet. It is an animal- when it is in control there will be no reaching Oura Thorn, they are good as dead until the Beast has calmed- whether that means tearing the entire base apart to find the lack of balance or not.

However, not is all sorrow and death the minute the Beast is free. Like the World Serpent, there are times where the beast can exist and be calm. Though, usually, it will let Oura Thorn continue with their life by then, and fall back into slumber deep within them. Were a rider to disturb the beast before it slept, it would continue to exist, and often take the time to hunt, or look for a new problem for it to fix, ignoring the little critters around it. (Although, there may be a chance that though Oura Thorn, it may recognise you)

CAN IT BE STOPPED??

In terms of wounding the Beast- it’ll be hard, as a creature designed to force balance to any world.

The beast can’t swim very well, the heavily density of its muscles and bones make it sink and therefore, drowning it. Killing it would be hard in terms of combat, with its armoured scales. Its underbelly is less armoured and the skin along it’s neck where it’s spines emerge are a weak point but good luck getting close enough to touch it. And despite its brutal animalistic behaviour, this creature is smart. Tricking it with poison or having it swallow grenades ain’t gonna work here, just like with the Skullcrawlers. The best bet to killing this thing is having its arms and tail pinned, so it can no longer get away, and then hacking at it.

Keep in mind- if you’re not doing anything bad, and stay away from it, it shouldn’t actively seek out space riders to harm. If you get hurt, you’re in the way, lol.

WELL, IF SPACE RIDERS ARE GOOD, WHY DID IT APPEAR IN THE DOCKS?

Excellent question, figurative person!

Now, I’ve covered how the Beast works, if you’d like, go back to the OG post and see if you can figure out why you think Thorn lost control at the docks.

Ready? Alright. So the Beast only takes the reins when it senses ‘unbalance nature’ around it. Obviously it wasn’t the other staff, not the mail, but the cultists that were mailed to the base. But Infinite! They’re just Critters! Why would that upset the beast?

Another excellent question! The Cultist themselves, didn’t upset the Beast- but rather, the red smoke that they were breathing in.

That is the ‘unbalanced nature’ that has caused thorn to struggle to control themselves and keep the beast contained- the red smoke. And well understood with Onyx’s upload on Z’s planet- that stuff destroyed the entire world!! There is a specific reason that the red smoke is such a massive trigger for the Beast, but that would spoil a plot point I’m holding onto that I’ve been subtly hinting at. So you’ll all know laterrrr ~

WILL THORN BE EVER ABLE TO CONTROL THE BEAST?

No, unfortunately that will never be a reality for Ouřa Thorn :<

I love Thorn very much, but I find overly ‘op’ characters to be too unrealistic in my opinion. Thorn will never be able to control the Beast, or gain any other powers than that. The closest thing to ‘control’ Thorn will ever achieve is being so overwhelmed with one, or a mix of emotions, that it influences the Beast’s actions slightly. This can be seen in the dock accident, were instead of being careless and destroying everything, and probably eating the cultists, The Beast was influenced by Ouřa Thorn’s only two thoughts- to protect the other workers, and to ensure no one got hurt.

Thankfully, those two thoughts were just enough in comparison to the tiny amount of red smoke to keep a full rage at bay, keeping everyone safe.

(However! We do get to watch the Rangers + other critters do there damn best to try help Thorn tame it lol)

WHERE DID IT COME FROM??

There are records of other critters that had Oura Thorn’s power, old talismans and rock craving dating back to eons. Little is understood as to how it started, or why. Some are convinced it’s because of the prototype- the damage that he has caused with the red smoke has awoke a primal magic that is more dangerous than anyone knows.

#♾ art #my art #space riders au #smiling critters oc #oc #oura thorn #smiling critters #space riders oc #oc space riders au #SR! Oura Thorn

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lucyav13 · 3 months

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Dimentio

A more deep investigation about this emblematic character.

His name is a pun on "dementia" and "dimension". Like Mario and Mimi, he can flip between dimensions, but he can also manipulate them (an ability he shares with Merloo).

A theory says that the surviving son of the pixl inventor is his ancestor.

In the english version, Tippi seems to inmediatly recognize Dimentio upon encountering first. However, in the original Japanese script, her reaction is more ambiguous, afirmaning that Dimentio is one of the Count's minions.

Dimentio originally intended for Dimension D to multiply his power by 256. Upon winning the battle against him, the player character claims that the dimension made them more powerful as well, leaving everyone's stats unchanged relative to each other. This may be a homage to 8-bit storage capacity: 8-bit integers have 256 possible values, so adding 256 (although not multiplying by it) will overflow the integer and result in no net change.

The void is absent from the background of this dimension.

According to Carson, Dimentio approached the Count on his own, wishing to join him. While he was turned down once, he was hired after Bleck read about someone having a similar role in the Dark Prognosticus...

My theory: Dimentio is impure. But not the son of Blumiere or Timapni. The tribe of darkness knew the power and monstrosity of the impures thanks to him. As the tribe saw how dangerous it was and the consequences it would bring, he was left forgotten along with his parents. Maybe that's why he's an impure. For this reason, Timpani, in one of his many visits, was able to see him and his family being thrown out of the tribe. Since he has floating hands and teleportation powers, just like the Count Bleck.

But his mask doesn't let us see how he really is...

Aditional information:

Catch Card: 195

HP Max: 80

Attack: 4

Defense:

Score: 8000

Card Description: Dimentio is Count Bleck's dimension-bending mercenary. The question is, do psycho jesters get good benefits?

Tattle: That's Dimentio... A magician who works for Count Bleck... He's like an evil clown... He'll use many magic tricks, including making doubles of himself... It's hard to get a read on this suspicious character...

Quotes:

"And so I arrive, like a sudden windstorm at a kindergarten picnic!"

"Ah ha ha. Finally, you arrive!"

"Yes, yes, no one likes the icky stuff... Yessss... A perfect world... Sounds magical!..."

"It would be so very DULL if your journey ended so easily... Instead, it ends with...magic!"

"It is truly enchanting to finally meet my hapless victims."

"You must be Bowser. I knew the moment I saw the flailing nubbins you call arms."

"Well met, lady. Your beauty is as refreshing as a slap to the face on a crisp winter day!"

"At last, the hero... I know of you from the festival of hair that dances upon your lip!"

"Now we must duel, like two gleaming banjos on a moonlit stoop!"

"Can you pierce this...illusion?"

"Your blows are like miniature jackhammers wielded by tiny, angry road workers!"

"The next time we meet, you will feast on a deadly eight-course meal!"

"I am not violent by nature, you know. I'd prefer to settle this peacefully, in fact."

"Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Again, for dramatic effect! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA."

"You've proven to be worthy foes in the past, so I'm not going to make it easy."

"I'm saying that you no longer have value to me, so I'm ending your games."

"And so I strike, like an unseen dodgeball at an echoing gymnasium!"

"Ciao!"

The above text is from the Super Mario Wiki and is available under a Creative Commons license. Attribution must be provided through a list of authors or a link back to the original article. Source: https://www.mariowiki.com/Dimentio

(A:N) If you want to share any theory that you have had, let me know in the comments and I will rate your theory in a part of this book. Bye!

#spm #super paper mario #dimentio #my researches #MarioWiki

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blackjackkent · 29 days

Note

Letter prompts - any or all!

Minsc to Hector

Lae'zel to Gale

Rion to Karlach

Shadowheart to Isobel and Aylin

Nine Fingers to Jaheira

(Letter fic prompts!)

TY as always for the prompts, friend! <3 Sorry it took a bit to get them done, but I did all of them bc I loved the ideas so much. XD

-----

(Minsc to Hector - a note scribbled on a crumpled piece of parchment with one corner slightly chewed off. Left on Hector's bedside table in the Elfsong, three hours before dawn on the cold, rainy morning before the battle with the Netherbrain.)

My friend!

Do not fear to find Minsc’s bunk empty when you wake; know that I have gone ahead to clear the path! The sewers that stand between us and our wrinkly foe are well known to Minsc and Boo, and we shall see to it that they are well-scrubbed of evil that might hinder us in our final journey. A fine tale it would make for us to travel towards a battle for the world's fate and be delayed by a passing bandit!

Should we have no further time to speak before all is chaos, Boo wishes you to know you have been a fine companion, a hero to rank high among all those he has traveled with. And Minsc would say the same, though Minsc does not juggle words with Boo’s skill.

Boo and I have traveled across many years in an instant, and much has changed. We did not think to find a company with which we could feel heroes again, not least after Minsc was made a puppet of the Absolute’s worm. With Jaheira, with you, Minsc has remembered what it is to be alive, to fight for goodness, and this city's every shadow trembles to know it.

Though evil brings the brain, Hector and his friends shall bring the brawn! And Minsc is proud to be among them!

(signed with the letter M and a very small pawprint in ink)

-----

(Lae'zel to Gale - a note carved in the spiraling gith script into a large flat rock, lacking the fine materials of true githyanki slate, written in camp deep in the Underdark.)

When you can read this, you may consider yourself a true scholar worthy of the secrets of githyanki magic. Until then, cease your inane questioning of matters far beyond your appreciation; my time is better spent in recuperation than in the education of overambitious istik.

A note is attached to the rock, written in Common in careful, precise handwriting: Ever so sorry to disappoint you, my dear sa’varsh, but my inane questioning shall continue unabated. I do, however, thank you for the opportunity to reacquaint myself with Comprehend Languages! I so rarely get a chance to turn that one out for a bit of exercise.

Below these words on the note is scribbled a considerably less meticulous tir’su spiral scrawled in ink: That is *not* what I meant, and you know it, kainyank.

-----

(Rion to Karlach - a note sent by standard post to the Elfsong, several days after the party's visit to Elerrathin's Home.)

Karlach,

You're kidding me - you're Pluck Cliffgate's kid? I carried messages for him now and again; he talked about you plenty, and I did see you once, maybe seven years old, darting all over the Wide like a little hurricane. Small world, I guess. Odd to think that I’m more or less the same and you’ve shot up to be taller than I am. Elf blood’s a funny thing.

I know you’re hoping for exciting stories about growing up with the High Harper but the truth is I don’t have much to offer. She wasn’t any kind of “heroic adventurer” to me - she was just Mother, and she never much liked to talk about the past, not even about my father. I heard more about her from bards in taverns than I ever heard from her own mouth - and some of it I wish I could scrub back out of my brain.

You ever hear a bawdy called “The Harper’s Head”? Yeah, now imagine that was your mum they were singing about. Awful.

She was good to us, though, in her own way. I know you saw me bite her head off and her bite mine right back; that’s just how we’ve always been. But she saw to it I grew up strong, that I knew how to fight, and how to keep my head down when the time called for it. Harper things, mostly, even though I don’t think she ever wanted me to be one.

She taught me how to take no shit, too. Her mistake, because now I don’t take hers either. But I think she’d rather that than otherwise.

After a while, the other kids just started drifting in - first for a meal here or there, then a bed, then before you knew it, this was their home. Another one in the pack. It’s strange, really. I always knew deep down - even when I was a kid who didn’t have words for it yet, just knew it was confusing and it hurt - that part of her really wanted to be back on the road, not tied down with us in this mess of a city. But somehow every time one of us moved out, she’d found another to bring in, almost like clockwork.

I think she’s been looking for something, all this time. But I don’t think she knows what it is, any more than I do, or what she’d do with it if she found it.

Not an exciting story, like all the tales you’ve heard. But it’s truth; I can tell you that much.

It probably won’t surprise you that I haven’t had a message from her since you left. But you can tell her I’m off to the refugee camp in the morning. We’ll hold our end of things, and see they’re taken care of. Take care of that bloody brain, and maybe I’ll find a better story to tell when you’re done.

Rion

-----

(Shadowheart to Aylin (and Isobel by proxy); several conjoined messages by a series of Sending spells, dispatched from somewhere on the edge of Waterdeep)

> Aylin… your mother's house is beautiful. I never imagined such a place. It's… foolish, perhaps, but I wanted to let you know I've seen it.

> I still carry the spear with me. Once dark, now light. Like me. Still surprised you didn't crack us both across your knee like Lorroakan.

> You gave me a second chance. I hadn't earned it; I wanted to kill you. The great difference between Shar and Selune. Cruelty versus mercy.

> A lot’s happened since then. I found my parents. Shar's last joke at my expense. You were right about everything. That I had to act.

> So I'm free now. Of all of it. One day I will think of a way to repay you both for your kindness. Your wisdom.

> I don't know what plans call you now, but should you travel near Waterdeep in the next fortnight-- OW! Yes, yes, I'll tell her, calm--

[a slight pause]

> Please also tell Isobel that Buddy says hello. The morsels she used to slip him in camp have purchased her a permanent owlbear friend.

-----

(Nine-Fingers to Jaheira - a note left in a dead drop at Danthelon’s in the middle of the night.)

Jaheira. You’ve GOT to call off the Rashemaar. He’s driving us all insane trying to teach us the good path; on all the gods, either I’m going to beat the hells out of him or someone else will. I don’t care what you do - take him on an adventure, lock him in the cellar, turn him into a statue again, hold the hamster for ransom. But something. Fuck’s sake.

He listens to you. Starting to think you’re the only one he does listen to. Like a pup with one master. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so infuriating.

We all want the same thing - this city safe and strong. But he’s got to learn that we don’t all go about it the same way, or sooner or later there’s going to be trouble.

Astele NF

#ask meme #astreamofstars #hector carlisle #minsc #lae'zel #gale dekarios #rion bg3 #jaheira #karlach #nine fingers keene #shadowheart #dame aylin #isobel thorm #these were fun to write c:#hope you enjoy <3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

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howtofightwrite · 1 year

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In real sword fight, kicking the sword to the enemies is just plain impossible right?

No, it's completely possible, it's just a terrible idea.

So, there's a practical stunt, where one performer picks up their opponent's discarded weapon and tosses it to them with their foot. That is completely doable. It's a popular, and fairly easy, stunt to perform. The actual motions could easily be executed during a fight by a skilled duelist, though, you wouldn't want to do that.

You also probably wouldn't want to throw a sword to an ally mid-fight, since there is a risk of them missing the incoming weapon, and being hit by a flying sword, or catching it poorly and injuring themselves. Cuts to the hand and fingers are really nasty in a fight, and something you'd want to avoid if at all possible, but if it's a choice between a risked injury, or death, you might decide to take the risk.

Passing a weapon to someone who is actively trying to kill you is not an appealing option for, what I hope are, obvious reasons. In case they're not: Your foe is trying to kill you. You just gave them a weapon that will help them kill you. This is a bad thing. Things were better when you had all weapons and they had none. Don't kick their sword to them, pick it up and kill them with it. You're both there for the same reason; just get it over with; kill them before someone gets seriously hurt.

This is a fairly common element in duels where the hero returns their enemy's weapon to them after they've been disarmed. It's supposed to illustrate how noble and principled they are, however, in a serious fight (which these almost always are), it's a show of dangerous naivete. If you've ever read something to the effect of, “why is good so dumb!?” this is an excellent example of the behavior which provokes that question.

In a formal dueling environment, or during training, this kind of maneuver starts to become less self-destructive. If this is, “a proper duel,” and killing an unarmed foe would be grossly inappropriate (and criminal), then yes, kicking their sword to them becomes a reasonable middle ground between handing them the weapon and resorting to murder. Especially because the risk of hand injuries turns into a boon rather than flaw. (Actually, flipping the script a little and having the villain return the hero's sword this way, specifically with the intent of letting them catch the blade, is a dick move with reasonable deniability.) Of course, in a proper duel it would probably be better form to hand the fallen weapon to the seconds, let them shuffle it between them, and return it to the other duelist by hand.

In a training environment, particularly with non-sharpened blades, a teacher could easily kick the weapon back to their student to maintain tempo. It's a little unusual, but not that out there, and learning to safely catch a blade without suffering injury isn't the worst trick to have up your sleeve. You'll probably never need it, but there's no downside to being able to catch a thrown weapon by reflex.

It should also go without saying that simply kicking it across the floor is another option. In my experience, kicked weapons don't tend to travel quite as far as you think they would. Obviously, if you practice kicking weapons around, this isn't going to be a problem, but why would you practice that?

This whole scenario tends to be a bit contrived, one of the participants in a duel is disarmed, by some means. This exists to extend the sequence and, in theory, let the characters express themselves a bit, but that expression suffers from this being a fairly rote sequence, rather than behavior that is unique to that character.

So, can it be done? Yeah, it's absolutely doable, however, in serious combat, it is a really bad idea.

-Starke

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#how to fight write #Starke answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #swordfighting #practical stunts

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angyo · 4 months

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It's funny there seems to be people who think that Muu is a makima-esque master manipulator based on the information we have. Bro have you see her trying to manipulate? Her most effective move is just crying but half the time that one just feels unintentional. When it's up to her to actually use her charisma she blunders so hard. Sure she can read people very well, but her best attempt at getting her way when someone isn't laying down for her is to just say the information she has as if just saying it is how it goes.

Sure cliques are gonna be filled with blunt passive aggressive assholes, but she also doesn't seem to distinguish friend from foe and cliques don't generally like when people can't play the mind games. It may be me projecting a bit, but she seems to picture relationships as a little bit TOO transactional, her sheer inflexibility feels a bit autistic. She's got a script and she freaks out when people go off of it.

No fucking way she got those friends through sheer charisma, I'm betting they were all just sucking up to the rich kid for cash. Meaning that whatever dirt rei had on her, it managed to turn people who had already decided to put up with the rich girl. I'm leaning toward at least some of it being gay shit, like even if muu doesn't realize it she pedestalizes rei a lot for someone who thinks their revenge was justified.

But if it was just rei giving proof of muu liking girls I'd think the bullying would be more directly homophobic, so she probably had a few kinds of dirt on her.

She also seems dangerously out of touch with her emotions, while also being out of touch with other people's. People say her mvs are just straightforward but they seem to be affected by her inner turmoil she doesn't wanna think about. It's hard to verbalize but the words she says often contrast the video. In after pain she has a lot more doubt, while still not accepting any fault she thinks about it despite the info we get being the bullying she endured. Then in inmf, she sounds so sure of everything while also imagining herself as an insect and her victim as normal. She is not as confident as she tries to seem

Really she just seems like a teen who's been allowed or even encouraged to stay emotionally immature getting herself into something she can't escape. Yeah she did all that mean shit, but she also got sucked into the cycle. She shouldn't have killed rei but she was clearly losing it. Murder wasn't justified but things happen in the heat of the moment, especially if you're completely emotionally unstable and in denial of it. She wasn't lying about having a clique but she also wasn't lying about feeling suicidal.

She and haruka are perfectly matched to bring out the worst in each other. Unfortunately for her ratings, she's got an offensive mental illness. probably one of those where it's like "bad person disorder: you are a terrible shitty person and it will never change. Also you're banned from 30 countries now :)". Which is also unfortunate for haruka since he's got self loathing issues, and while audiences handle those a little better it's not enough to overpower hating a self aggrandizing girl.

Hope someone stops him. For character development i think it'd be cool for muu to panic and do it, but idk if she's aware enough of her emotions to realize she'd miss him. Tbh also worried if they're gonna use haruka as a red herring, he's acting off enough to attract attention but muu also has a history of suicidality.

Prisoners not in the know are already getting suspicious of haruka, which best case means they catch him in time. If the writers wanna be cruel it also means muu can just decide to kill herself split second if the decision hurts enough and no one will suspect her

#angyo

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araneitela · 27 days

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"Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?"

/rattles at bars /rattles at bars more firmly

Are we supposed to take this at direct face value? Tell me something, Kafka, what exactly is Spirit Whisper, and where does it come from? Does everyone from Pteruges-V possess it? I just double checked to see if I can find anything at all in any reference, and there's nothing that seems to indicate it to be the case. But also, I find no 'odd references' to any other instance of its use anywhere else, or by anyone else? I'm having a big brain moment, humor me for a moment: what if she actually is directly tied into Fate itself? Okay, let me bundle up some of my thoughts here:

Any showcasing of Spirit Whisper indicates that it doesn't seem to even remotely drain her of anything to use (I know we're speaking game mechanics here, but remember there are drawbacks to other things in this same game), regardless of the targets in question. In her trailer, she subdues (read: pit them against one another) a large number of men without doing as much as blink, the Jepella Rebellion had her very intricately control (and since this was a 'mock trial' of sorts— I do assume a lot of its dialogue to be genuine, but still?) 4 judges. But most importantly, when Kafka (of course) accompanies Blade to the Xianzhou, she likely knew exactly who to expect upon arrival due to Elio, she must've, it would also explain why she was perfectly calm and anything but unnerved. But the ones on the scene there? They're all very big players: Blade himself, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Dan Heng who ultimately found his High Elder form; and Kafka didn't seem to flinch nor grow concerned even once. That means she was likely prepared or able to possibly intervene through SW, that means it's inherently capable of handling very significant 'foes'. Now of course, one can say that the script would have possibly reassured her, but through her SQ we know that she actively believes that fate is not by default predetermined, which tells me that there must still be an element of preparation or a 'safety net'. Yes, I know, I'm making an argument for fate, but it's very specific. Any way, it's strong and she seems to never flinch. What on earth is it?

Now, here's one thing about it: it is able to take people's choice away from them, isn't it? Isn't that on some level directly contradicting fate? Or in other/better words: is that not directly controlling fate?

The entire trailer ends on the premise of what No Country for Old Men presents, and to elaborate for those who don't know it: the entire story narrows down on the narrative that destiny is encroaching on all of us, you can't outrun destiny, any choice that you believe you have is an illusion because there is no second-guessing fate. In that final sequence, Kafka presents the final man with a coin flip, 'as for the ending, wanna take a guess? Some might think he stood a 50/50 chance of surviving this if he guessed correctly, but he doesn't, and he never did. It's even in the way that she speaks, she never actually offers him a chance. If anything, she's simply presenting fate as inevitable. And when the scene proceeds, you hear the gunshot following almost immediately. Within this trailer, the one who controls all of their fates and how they are led to it, is Kafka herself. Throughout all of this, Kafka is in full control of their fate.

I'm talking nonsensically here, as in I'm just putting out thoughts almost maniacally, but I feel as if I'm connecting dots, I really feel like there's something here. But let me present you with the dialogue that I noted at the beginning one more time, and reread it after what I just talked about:

"Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?"

Not only that, but look at the shot that accompanies it. Yes, we know it's her spirit whisper due to the glow in her eyes (although I'm now also wondering, because at the beginning of the trailer, I don't see it as firmly; does it possibly grow fainter if its use is lighter?) but the entire moment is so immense, so overbearing. And the fact that this specific shot also feels as if it's a callback as well to Rorschach Inkblot's Fear Card, which is just perfect use of it by the way. But any way, let me point you to the other dialogue:

"Stealing a glance?"

And this line appears during the 'fulfillment' of the fate of the man we then see, at her hands, and let me show you the glimpse we're given of his final moments, just as she speaks those words. Stealing a glance at what, exactly? His fate? Or... fate? Is it her? Or part of it? — And lastly, there's another few lines that I want to point out, and they're at the beginning. And this, to me, is more so interesting because of the odd phrasing that was chosen for this. I do so wish I knew Chinese, because I'd love to know the source text and its weight/significance:

"Don't be afraid. Listen to me, wasn't it you, who invited me?"

Kafka. Kafka. Kafka. I need answers. Who are you talking to; to all of them? Why would they be inviting you? Unless we're talking quite literally, but then I present the question again: why?

Ugh. The Greek Fates, destiny. The Moirai, they weave the (silk) threads of fate. And then there's the spider, the arachnids that are all over her design. Silk, a spider weaves silk, fate could be, in part, represented by a spider within this universe (all en-compassing, coaxing, and yet not forcing), a spider that weaves silk, silken threads of fate. Am I overthinking this? I probably am, but this is so on the nose to me, that I can't imagine it to be a coincidence. Mihoyo doesn't do anything without meaning to. Ugh. Now if she is tied to fate in any capacity, that gives me something extra to hook into in terms of that 'humanity' that we're given glimpses of. No one knows better than fate itself that life will end, that it is therefore precious, that it is fragile, as all things within it are. And man, the sheer amount of references that she makes to very mortal things being beautiful is almost unnerving, especially this following one: "The human body is beautiful in its fragility"; there's also an odd sense of detachment from humanity when she speaks, and yet at other times, an odd sense of intricate connection (ie: her empathy towards Blade and the TB, her 'musicality'—).

Guys, I just have many thoughts.

#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it.#[ i'm just going to make some hot chocolate for after my shower. i'm just. so overwhelmed. but thrillingly so. ]#[ bUT STILL. ]

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gaycrittercentral · 11 months

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I’d like to know where the Maxlings came from

Oh hell yeah I’d love to tell!! ok so I had the concept planned as a comic initially but it really got away from me and got too long for me to actually make, so what I’ve got is sort of a script-lookin thing that I would have used as framework for it. I hope that’s an ok format?? I considered trying to write it into more of a prose/fic format but honestly I like it best like this. Ok enough rambling I hope it’s funny to y’all lmao (also it got. Um. Very long)

First scene is in the middle of a beautiful glade deep in the woods, where Sam and Max are dancing in a crowd of magical-looking fairies, grinning at each other. It’s late and there are fairy lights (teehee) illuminating the area, tables of food and drink scattered around the outskirts of the crowd.

S: wow, quite the day we’ve had, eh little pal?

M: you can say that again, Sam! I mean, how often do you get to save an ancient fairy commune by beating up their evil warlock oppressor?

S: and on top of that they throw this little shindig in our honor! I have to say, I never knew lutes could play such great club music.

M: and I’m living for these hors d’oeuvres! We simply must get the recipe.

Behind them, a pair of fairies in big leafy crowns talk quietly.

Fairy queen: these strangers are so delightfully mischievous.

Other fairy queen (they are lesbians): quite! Truly a pair of mortals after our own hearts. How should we reward them for defeating our fell foe?

FQ 1: hmm…I have an amusing idea. What’s better than two chaos-causing mortals?

FQ 2: ahhh, I see! A marvelous idea!

The queens approach Sam and Max, with several other smiling fairies clustered around.

FQ 2: well, my friends, it has been a true pleasure to have you! Before you depart, my queen and I have a gift for you as thanks for defeating the dreaded warlock Snivellion.

(M: tee hee)

FQ 1: here, please take these.

She hands Max a little package made of leaves and tied with twine.

FQ 1: these magical seeds will grow into a wonderful gift if you keep them warm and safe.

M: well, we don’t have the best record with houseplants…

S: but we’ll happily accept your gift anyway! I’m sure they’ll be fun for the few minutes they manage to survive in the harsh climate of our office.

M: if they live through the trip back in my pocket, that is.

FQ 2: oh, trust me, I’m sure they will be every bit as hardy as the two of you.

Max stuffs the leaf packet in his inventory and he and Sam take their leave, waving to the fairies as they go.

S: so long now! Have fun partying eternally!

M: you know, we never did get introduced—don’t suppose I could get your names?

FQ 1: hah, nice try. Fare thee well, mortals!

FQ 2: farewell!

As they go, we see a shot of Max’s inventory, with his gun and maybe a hammer or something to show that’s what it is. The leaf package sits quietly for a moment, before releasing a tiny sprout.

Several months later…

Sometime in the dead of night, they’re both sleeping until Max stirs and sits up with his ears all lopsided, looking kinda disgruntled and tired.

M: I’m gonna go take a dump

S, not quite asleep yet and regretting it: you don’t have to tell me every time. I actually think I’d rather if you didn’t.

M: but what if I fall in? I’d want you to know what I was doing! :D

S: *half-asleep grumbling*

Max wanders off to the bathroom to perch on the can and read a magazine.

M: oh, Martha, you get me. Mostly because we’ve both been to the slammer

Suddenly a baby wail echoes from the toilet (thank you, mammalian diving reflex) and Max immediately screams, flings his magazine to parts unknown and runs for the hills.

M: Sam!! SAM!!! The toilet screamed at me!!!! I think that ill-advised bathroom exorcism we did instead of cleaning the shower drain didn’t work, we must’ve summoned some kind of toilet ghost instead!!

S: what are you talking about, numbskull? You interrupted a perfectly good dream I was having about a discontinued ice cream bar :(

M: just come help me get rid of it! I can’t go with some spectral peeping Tom shrieking at me!

They get to the bathroom and Max hovers by the door as Sam inspects the toilet.

S: Max, you cotton-brained dolt, there’s no ghosts in—GREAT GALLOPING GEYSERS TAP DANCING ON SATURN’S FURTHEST MOON!

He immediately reaches in to save the weird little wet rat almost glaring accusingly at him from the bowl (it could glare a little better if its eyes were functional yet). Max cringes at him.

M: Jesus, Sam, I know we’re both nasty, but I thought we agreed to leave this level of grossness to me! Wait what the fuck is that thing.

S: well, if my outdated recollection of mammalian biology and your horrifying baby pictures is correct, then I’d say it kind of looks like a neonatal lagomorph. Did…did this come out of you?

M: oh please, I think I’d know if I had something like that stashed away somewhere in here. (Vaguely gestures to himself) Now could you get outta the way? If it was just some weird naked rat that crawled up the toilet to yell at me and not a ghost, then I’d like to finish my business in here.

Sam stares at the little rat-looking baby. It has teeth. Teeth like Max’s. He grabs a towel out of the bathroom closet instead and tosses it in the bathtub, then nabs Max by the scruff of his neck and deposits him on top of it.

S: why don’t you just wait down here for a minute while I get this little thing cleaned up?

M: Sam what the hell I don’t need to be housebroken!! Ugh fine but you’re cleaning the towel if—oh my god there’s another one.

S: SWEET SAINT OLGA OF KIEV SINGING OPERA FOR AN AUDIENCE OF PUPPETS WITH A TIN FOIL SUIT AND TIE AND A CREAMED CORN CROWN

Several escaped kits later…

Sam and Max lie together in bed with the kits on top of them, all wiggling around and squeaking faintly. Sam looks vaguely shaken by the experience, but Max just kinda looks like it’s totally normal.

M: haha I thought you guys were just weird little turds! Well, aren’t all children though, come to think of it

S: and you’re sure they came out of your inventory and not some hitherto unknown reproductive system of yours?

M: Sam, at this point I think I’d be able to tell if they’d been up my ass, don’t you?

S: well, sure, but also that’s not where—

M: and besides, my pocket snacks have been going missing all day and this totally explains it. Look, that one’s still got Cheeto dust all over her face!

Sam looks down at one of the girls, who is indeed very orange.

S: ooh. Let me just clean you up there, sweetheart.

He licks her clean gently. She squeaks in approval.

S: huh! What do you know, that really is Cheeto dust.

M: see, I told you so! I still have no idea how they could’ve gotten in there, though…I mean, they look brand new. And also a lot like us.

S: well, mostly like you.

M: nah, see, this one’s got little floppy ears! And lookit their tails, mine’s not long like that. Oh! And this one’s got your nose!! Oh, Sam, it’s so precious I could just squish her like an overripe tomato! …um, but I won’t, obviously.

S: personally, I find myself rather enamored with their tiny little toe beans. Just look at that! They’re so little…

They both giggle delightedly over the kits for a minute, before relaxing back into the pillows. It’s still the middle of the night and they’re both exhausted.

S: so…if we don’t know how they got there, and they don’t look like they could be anybody else’s…

M: 👀

S: I mean unless we want to take them to the vet to check for microchips or something…?

M: too late I’m already coming up with names and dreaming of all the bad words I’m gonna teach them

S: oh, good, so am I. I guess it doesn’t matter how they got there, then…but you really have to wonder…

Something like a half hour ago…

The kits are sitting in a little pile in the middle of Max’s inventory, the opened leaf package below them and Max’s gun leaning against the wall beside them (it’s bigger than they are). Lacey’s face is covered in Cheeto dust and there are a few remaining Cheeto crumbs scattered around them. They have a brief conversation of squeaks, translated into pictures.

Maisie: >:/ *exit sign, there isn’t an emoji for it but just draw one*❗️(she’s bored and she wants out)

Lacey and Crowbar: :o ???

Maisie starts crawling around determinedly until she comes across some kind of rift in reality, through which the toilet bowl is visible. But not to her, of course, because she can’t see just yet. She immediately plummets out of the rift with a tiny shriek, and her siblings react like :0 there’s silence for a second, before Crowbar squeaks and is translated to:

C: dare you to go after her

L: 👀

And that’s it!! Hdkhsshsg here’s hoping it’s at least a little amusing to y’all because it’s very funny to me for whatever reason hdjshsjhddhdjhfjd

Oh! And as a reward for sticking around here’s one of the other first drawings of them I ever did :’> they were very much inspired by @lillylunala’s drawings of Max as a baby if it isn’t obvious, which you should absolutely check out if you haven’t seen them bc my god she really nailed it heheheeee

#hhhhfhdhdgshgskjfhsgsjjdh little creachers….#I wanted to capture that early comics feeling of them being inexplicably wrapped up in a bizarrely supernatural case #but refusing to explain how they got the case or how they got where they are or how they know these people or anything lmao #y’know just like ‘well max here we are in the enchanted fairies’ woods! better go arrest that warlock’#and it’s like how the fuck did you know to come here. did the commissioner tell you to go beat up a warlock?? since when are fairies real #and absolutely none of that gets answered hdkdhdjdhs #also rip to Maisie falling headfirst into a toilet. second child of theirs to be pulled out of one at birth #sam and max #freelance husbands #the maxlings #asks #my art

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vintagegeekculture · 2 years

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David Gerrold is the uncredited co-creator of Star Trek: the Next Generation

He should be listed as the creator of the series alongside Gene Roddenberry. The defining elements of TNG that mark it as distinct from its predecessor were, nearly, all David Gerrold’s ideas.

In very, very early publicity for the series, like Entertainment Tonight’s earliest pieces on TNG, David Gerrold is not just another guy in the writing room; he is treated as a showrunner by the publicity of the series (though that term obviously was not in widespread use in 1987). And this is not just my opinion, either: there’s actually a complaint with the Writer’s Guild that David Gerrold was essentially assigned producer duties, but was not paid as a producer – a suit that Gerrold won to the tune of six figures.

This early piece here in Starlog says that David Gerrold wrote the series Bible for TNG:

What’s more, many of Next Gen’s unique elements are Gerrold ideas. In David Gerrold’s World of Star Trek essays in the 1970s, which were widely reprinted, Gerrold called for the following changes to Star Trek:

The first officer should lead away missions, not the captain (Gerrold preferred the term “contact team” in the 70s, though he later used the term “away team”)

Since deep space missions are non-violent and require a great deal of time (possibly a decade or more without seeing a starbase), families should live on the ship alongside the crew.

The Klingons will, probably in the future, become allies of the Federation, and we may see a Klingon serve in Starfleet. Gerrold’s phrasing was “today’s foes are tomorrow’s allies.”

If families serve on a ship, it therefore stands to reason that mental health would be significant, and an important officer would be a ship’s therapist or counselor, who would be in on meetings and consulted.

To be clear, Gerrold’s essays were not obscure little memos in Paramount. They were widely read in the fandom world. If you’re old like me, you probably remember reading them back in the day.

David Gerrold had a lot of other ideas that were only partially used. For example, he believed fashion would be totally intersex (which explained why, in early TNG episodes, there were men in miniskirts), and that homosexuality would be widely accepted in the future (in fact, Gerrold wrote an AIDS-analogue episode that was rejected that may be one of the most famous unmade episodes of TNG’s first season, which would have had gays in Starfleet as early as Next Gen season one). “Blood and Fire” is to TNG what Ellison’s “Perils of the City” is to the original series, better known as a script and lore.

Not all of these ideas were that progressive. Some were kinda…loopy. David Gerrold also wanted dolphins and whales to be a part of the crew, used as navigators, in sections set aside as their own tanks. Like the idea that the captain would only make decisions with his therapist beside him on the bridge, talking dolphin crewmembers seems to be the idea that dates TNG most firmly to the 1980s. You can kinda tell that Gerrold lived his whole life in California.

One character in particular was David Gerrold’s idea above all else: Lieutenant Worf. Here’s a publicity image from early TNG. Notice anyone who’s missing? Worf was not anything other than a background character, until at Gerrold’s insistence, he was elevated in the script.

Gene Roddenberry in particular did not like Worf as a main character (as a background bit, that’s fine), but Gerrold guided him into a main character role.

To be clear, not every TNG idea was Gerrold’s. No show is ever just the vision of one person. The holodeck was mentioned in Gene Roddenberry’s original proposal for the original series in 1964, but they only had the ability to show it come the animated series in the 70s (as all true trekkies know, the animated series, not TNG, introduced the holodeck). Gene L. Coon made many additions to Trek lore, but that one was all Roddenberry’s. Emergency Saucer Separation also was mentioned in the original series as well, as an emergency tactic. The Q were the most Gene Roddenberry idea of all: a godlike alien race that puts mankind on trial for barbarism (and to his credit, the original writing room thought he wouldn’t work).

Data actually came from an unaired Roddenberry pilot about a robot searching for his creator who becomes best friends with a human engineer, the Quaestor Tapes (in fact, the robot there actually says “I am fully functional” and I almost fell out of my chair). Troi and Riker are essentially reskins of Ilia and Decker from Star Trek the Motion Picture. Andrew Probert created the Ferengi, the look of the TNG Enterprise, and the idea that the bridge is more of a “hangout spot” due to automation, since the operation of the ship could be counted on to work without someone manning stations like in a submarine. Love him or hate him, the Borg were mostly producer Maurice Hurley’s idea.

Gerrold left after the first season, but don’t feel bad about Gerrold, though. It feels like every other superhero project draws from his Man Who Folded Himself, about a guy who time travels so often that he splits the timeline over and over and interacts with endless variations of himself. His alien invasion series, War Against the Cthorr, was fascinating in that it was an alien invasion that is ecological in nature, with a hostile alien ecosystem that replaces our own. In other words, he is a great writer independent of Trek and it rubs me the wrong way people call him the “tribble guy” still. And he is still very much alive, although, tragically, he has succumbed to being extremely online.

#tng #star trek #next generation

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rollforjackass · 8 months

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okay so i reread the good omens script book trying to look up a quote i remembered and i kept writing down the things that i absolutely loved about it, so here's just a list of all the quotes and moments that rewired my brain chemistry

aziraphale sasses the hell out of crowley about his antichrist birth organization skills

aziraphale saying “oh sugar” instead of oh shit...

first appearance of everyday by buddy holly, we all know how that turned out

aziraphale doesn’t know how an ansaphone works. this was in the book too, but it’s still funny, especially considering how in radio omens he at least knows about caller id

aziraphale brought shortbread for the drive to the convent. did he think it was a date? please say yes

crowley asked aziraphale if heaven wouldn’t give him (crowley) asylum and aziraphale was going to ask him the same about hell

aziraphale says “what the hell” after pointedly not swearing earlier. hypocrite ass

aziraphale is fine with killing the antichrist himself but gets upset about the humans killing each other at tadfield manor....more tasty hypocrisy. he thinks he can only ever do the Right Thing but he knows it's Wrong when anyone else does it

“aziraphale is rather enjoying having the upper hand in the ideas department for once”

crowley says “dude. chill.”

“for a moment his noble better nature rejects the idea out of hand. THEN HE FALLS...”

“aziraphale is softening. they haven’t spoken in a hundred years: he’s realizing they are still friends.” gets me every time i look at it

why was shadwell in prison?? america explain

“i work in soho, i hear things” patron saint of soho confirmed

i still think that the neon halo blinking on and off above aziraphale’s head is the HARDEST that neil gaiman has ever gone and that we deserved to see it in the final cut

"michael: when your cause is just you do not hesitate to smite the foe, aziraphale." i'm thinking thoughts about the s2 finale under this lens; when your cause is just (saving the love of your life) you do not hesitate to suffer for pursuing it

“crowley looks back. he looks at aziraphale. above them, a beautiful starry sky. and crowley softens.” jesus janthony christ.

“aziraphale is looking for someone. he spies a human statue dressed as an angel, with wings. it’s not him.” GOD

gabriel about aziraphale: “i’m disappointed in him. not thinking like an angel.”

crowley “looks up, and talks to god, in the classical fashion.” see i really want a script book for s2 because i want to see aziraphale's expressions of faith plucked out a little bit more

crowley in the cinema: “he’s waiting for the end of the world. out of time. out of hope.”

the fact that crowley saw aziraphale walking down the street and left dagon on read is priceless

aziraphale looks hurt after crowley says he won’t even think about him

the music for the gavotte scene was recommended to be “i am a courtier grave and serious” from gilbert and sullivan’s the gondoliers which is PERFECT

“aziraphale is heading down the street, looking harried and as if he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. which he is.”

sandalphon says “you know how we treat traitors in wartime?” to aziraphale and there was meant to be blood on aziraphale’s lips after sandalphon punches him. death to sandalphon

“why would you do this? we’re the good guys.”

aziraphale (resolutely not swearing): you. you B…AD angels.

“seducing women to do your evil will!” “i think perhaps you’ve got the wrong shop.” still the campiest line delivery i've ever seen

we don't need to speculate about crowley being in tears in the burning bookshop because according to the script he is canonically right on the verge of it

“right. i’m done. i’ve had it. i don’t care about any bloody angels or humans or anyone. i hate you all. somebody killed my best friend, and i don’t even care who did it. bastards, all of you.” 😭

when aziraphale is discorporated, his heavenly appearance is all his normal clothes but gleaming white

aziraphale: i have no intention of fighting in any war. “all angels on the floor turn and look at the angel who has said the unsayable.”

aziraphale can’t actually see crowley in the bar scene…he has no idea how wrecked his best friend is

aziraphale doesn’t take sugar with his tea. bastard

aziraphale crosses his fingers under the table when answering shadwell’s nipple question

aziraphale is wearing madame tracy’s pink motorbike helmet in the mirror of her scooter

they describe crowley’s suit in the burning bentley as “interestingly ripped”...........we were robbed of a crowley boob window moment and i'll never forget

aziraphale introduces crowley to madame tracy as “he’s…well, we’re sort of business associates.” you know, like a liar

aziraphale was fully about to murder adam. i don’t think i can stress this enough

aziraphale pokes himself to make sure he’s solid once he’s separated from madame tracy

aziraphale isn’t threatening crowley with the sword, “just making his point that he can do dangerous out-of-character things if he needs to.”

crowley: what if the almighty planned it this way all along? from the very beginning aziraphale: takes a drink from the bottle of wine

aziraphale looks like he’s going to cry when crowley reminds him that the bookshop burnt down 😭

aziraphale-as-crowley looks depressed 😭 he still thinks his bookshop is gone

the angels kidnapping crowley-as-aziraphale zip-tied his hands those dickheads

aziraphale-as-crowley: my friend! they’re kidnapping my friend!

the hit hastur gives aziraphale-as-crowley would have killed a human 0/10 wahoos

“the van with [crowley-as-]aziraphale in it drives away, and [aziraphale-as-]crowley tries to crawl after it.” HEY NEIL I JUST WANT TO TALK

crowley-as-aziraphale says “what fun. i love a barbecue.”

i am literally ENRAGED that sandalphon was like “hell yeah you can hit aziraphale” to the minor demon who brought the hellfire i WILL throw hands

uriel calls it a barbecue too those fuckers

in the script uriel and sandalphon have their flaming swords drawn, so it wasn't going to be as insidious as expecting aziraphale to walk into the flame of his own volition. but they didn’t end up including it in the show, so it is that insidious after all

aziraphale-as-crowley keeping his socks on for the bath was such a choice

“he doesn’t actually have a newspaper and a cigar, but damn, he’s enjoying himself in his bath”

i've seen so little talk about how absolutely ice cold aziraphale is in the bath scene with the whole “so you’re probably thinking, ‘if he can do this, i wonder what else he can do’? and very, very soon, you’re all going to get the chance to find out.” BECAUSE THAT SHIT IS TERRIFYING

aziraphale-as-crowley: michael. duude.

crowley and aziraphale both get out of their own elevators and meet up to walk out together which is poetic cinema

PIGBOG AND THE OTHER MOTORCYCLE IDIOTS THAT HUNG OUT WITH DEATH WERE GOING TO BE INCLUDED i miss them

#suffice it to say i've been on a deep dive #part of the reason i love the book so much is just all the little details that a tv show just can't spare the time for #and the script has so many lovely little tidbits that make me rewatch episodes hunting for a scrap of their existence #like i was Looking for that shortbread man i remember that vividly #i'll probably look again later too #ugh ugh ugh what a time to be alive was season 1 #and if there's a script book for s2 you bet your ass i'll be deep diving again #good omens #oxly hollers

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sunfyresrider · 1 year

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Romeo & Juliet AU

Part 1

Synopsis: Two households, Targaryen and Velaryon, both alike in dignity in Westeros, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes. A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; Whose piteous misadventures buries their parents' strife.

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader warnings: kissingg and mutual simping word count: 6k + note: I used a mix of Westeroi, modern English, and Shakespearean language so I hope it's still an ok read. I never realized how fast paced it was until I read the screenplay and scripts, so this is a shorter series than others.

ACT I

It was excruciatingly hot, even at eight o’clock. King’s Landing was coming to life: people poured out of the houses and filled the streets while market traders set up their stalls in the grand piazza. It was an excellent place for business of those who lived and worked in the rich houses that lined King’s Landing’s main square. The Targaryen mansion was by far the largest – filled with servants and king’s guard, always buzzing with activity.

Lately, Jacaerys had been faithfully ignoring his dear brother due to a recent heartache. Lucerys had carefully planned out today how he was going to catch him off guard and bless him with good tidings. Lucerys strolled slowly behind his brother and down the street. “Hi.” he spoke as he got near to Jacaerys, his tiding was ignored.

Lucerys ran in front of Jace and bent his head to catch his brother’s eye. “Good morrow.” Jacaerys pretended not to see him. Lucerys wrapped an arm around his elder brother so he could ignore him no longer. “Good morrow,” Lucerys sang.

Jacaerys sighed a long, mournful sigh. “Is the day so young?” Lucerys walked in unison with him carefully studying his face. “Only just past eight.” He sighed again, “how slow time goes when you’re depressed.” Luke raised a brow, “What sadness plagues you that makes time drag so?” Jace rolled his eyes, “not having what I need to make it go fast.” Luke gasped, “not in love…!” His brother stopped walking, “no, out… Out of the favor of the girl I love.”

“Oh my,” Lucerys whispered, attempting not to giggle. “It’s a hard life. Love, tis’ such a gentle thing, yet so rough when it comes down to it.” Luke did not know much of love, but he knew this was just another crush that failed to come to fruition. His elder brother was quite talented at being overly dramatic. “Tis’ true,” muttered Jacaerys.

The youngest brother was struggling to hold his composure as he listened to his brother's woes. Jacaerys shook his head sadly. “The world is filled with hate… I’m thinking only about love. Oh, everything feels upside down.” Jacaerys ears perked up when he heard a hushed giggle behind him. He whipped his head around and looked sharply at Lucerys. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Would I do that, dear brother o’ mine,” jested Lucerys. “You make me want to cry.” The elder brother grew tense, “Why?” Luke patted his back, “because you’re so pathetic it’s saddening.” Jace scoffed, “It’s love that makes me pathetic, but don’t give it another thought.” His eyelids slowly began to brim with tears. “If you start feeling sorry for me it’ll only make things worse… So go home.”

“Be serious right now. Tell me who has caused such despair.” Jacaerys pouted like a child, “I won’t dare speak her name… but she is a girl.” Lucerys made his best attempt to not tease “Oh. well done,” remarked Lucerys. “I assumed that when you said you were in love.” His elder brother smiled to himself reminiscing on his memory of her, “Her name is Baela and she’s beautiful.” That she was her skin glistened with the oil she used to soften it. Her dark eyes glistened brighter than any star and her lips were plush and red like the most beautiful rose. Luke was growing bored and mildly annoyed. “Good for you.”

Jacaerys plucked a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his eyes. “She’s not interested in boys says she never will be. When our eyes meet, she looks the other way…. I’ve even offered her coin, Lucerys, coins!” The younger brother sighed, “Well. She’s determined not to have a man.”

“Oh Gods,” Jacaerys groaned. “She’s so beautiful, Lucerys. And she’ll go through life alone and when she dies all beauty will die with her. She says she’ll never love anyone, so I’m destined for a living death.” Luke could bear no more of the self-pity, he grasped Jacaerys’s wrist. “If you trust me, I can tell you how to forget her.”

“Impossible… Tell me how.’ Jacaerys stopped crying and lifted his eyebrows. His eyes were as bright as the sun gleaming above them. “Easy task,” exclaimed Lucerys. “Get out and about. Look at other girls.” Jace’s joy melted away and he nearly let out a sob, “It’s no use… Whenever I see a girl from now on, I’ll only think of one who is even more beautiful.” Luke chuckled to himself, “I’m taking that as a challenge, I’ll sort it out, don’t you worry big boy.”

It was high past noon when little Luke returned with a grand plan to free his brother from wallowing in sorrow. After a deal was made with their less than adequate cousin a plan had been hatched. He rushed through the humming streets and slammed the door open to their lush apartments. “Aha!’ shouted Lucerys announcing his arrival. “We have just gotten invited to the most lavish party, dear brother. We have finally made our way into a Targaryen affair!”

Jacaerys leapt from his seat and rushed over to where his young brother stood. “Who shall be in attendance?” Luke waved his ticket proudly, “Your dear Baela, among some of the finest girls in King’s Landing. Let us go to Targaryen’s party, Jacaerys.” He shoved the ticket into his brother's hand. “I’ll show you that the girl you think is a swan is nothing more than a crow.”

“A girl more beautiful than Baela?” His eyes widened before they dulled once more, “never. The sun’s never seen a more beautiful woman since the world began.” Luke wanted to vomit, he had heard enough of this, “Rubbish! Every time you’ve seen her she’s been on her own. You need to make comparisons and I bet there’ll be hundreds of girls who’ll put Baela in the shade.” Jacaerys thought to himself for a long while, clearly he believed his brother but refused to admit it. “Alright, I’ll go,” spoke Jacaerys. “But not because I think you can show me anyone better. I’m going only so that I can see her.”

Lady Targaryen came into the sitting room where her daughter’s nurse was sewing a pattern onto a handkerchief. She gazed around the room before speaking. “Where’s that child o’ mine? I wish to speak to her.” The nurse stood from her place on the settee, “Ladybird!” she called. “My little lamb! Where are you child? Y/N!”

“Coming,” a soft voice called, and you came running in from the adjoining room. The surprise on her face was evident when she saw her mother. Lady Targaryen was so busy as of late she rarely had time to visit you. “Mother! What do you want?”

“We need to discuss a private matter,’ spoke Lady Targaryen. It was a private demand for the nurse to leave. Thus, the nurse got up reluctantly, but before she reached the door, Lady Targaryen called her back. “You might as well stay,” she sighed. “Your advice would be helpful.” Lady Targaryen cleared her throat. “Y/N’s getting to the age when…” She frowned, searching for the right word. “Let’s just say she’s at a pretty age. She’s going to be fourteen in two weeks.”

“Oh yes,” exclaimed your Nurse. “On Maiden’s Day she’ll be fourteen. She was the same age as my Susan when she died, God rest her soul. Anyway, on Maiden’s Day she’ll be fourteen. I remember it so well: it’s eleven years since the earthquake…” She took no notice of the impatient tapping of Lady Targaryen’s fingers on the table, nor the glances you were giving her to cease her gabbering. “And you stop dead now too, please, Nurse,” you pleaded.

“I swear I have finished.” The Nurse bowed her head. She tenderly gazed upon your face before opening her trap once more. “But I must say it. You were the most beautiful baby I ever nursed. If I could live to see you married, I’d die peacefully.” Your mother, Lady Rhaenyra Targaryen grinned, “Married… That’s just what I’ve come to talk about!” She clapped her hands together and motioned for you to sit on her lap and so you did. Though she now shifted under your weight unlike when you were young. “Little lamb, what do you think about getting married?’

“I’ve never even thought about it,’ you sighed. You knew where this conversation was headed. “Well give it a thought now, girls younger than you are already mothers. As a matter of fact, I was your mother when I was much the age you are now… The Count of Casterly Rock wishes to marry you.”

The Nurse clapped her hands together. “Now there’s a man, the perfect man.” Rhaenyra smiled, “The best in King’s Landing.” Your nurse’s voice reeked of excitement, “without doubt.” Your mother ran a finger through your hair. “Well? Do you think you could love him?’ You had no clue to say. It was too unexpected and far too soon. The idea of marriage, especially to an older man did not suit your fancy. You had heard nothing but bad things about the Lannisters. They were greedy and too ambitious to trust. “You’ll see him at the party, take a good look at him. He has sound prospects and many riches.”

You felt all the joy you once had for this evening being slowly drained away with every word she spoke. Riches and prospects… you did not care much for those either. “Come on, what do you think? Do you like the idea?” You knew a simple no would not suffice. You spoke carefully, “I shall look at him but I’m not going to rush or do anything that I haven’t thought about.”

A knock at the door caught both of your attention. One of your father’s servants came in, “Madam, the guests are starting to arrive. My master wants you.” Lady Targaryen stood up and brushed off her skirts. “I have to go, come on Y/N, the Count’s waiting.” You glanced back at your nurse praying for aid, “Go and meet your love.” The nurse was no help after all, traitor.

Jacaerys was impatiently tapping his foot. “Are we going to make some excuse for coming? Or shall we just go in and see what happens?” The three boys stood in the piazza, watching the huge front door of Targaryen’s mansion open. Aegon, the one with the invitation, and Jacaerys’s best friend, sat on the ground. He was making it clear that he was the only one to have been invited and the other two were stowaways. The reason for his invitation was that he was a Targaryen too.

Lucerys was the first to stand up and speak. “Speeches are out. No-one makes speeches when they arrive anymore. We’ll just go in and pretend we belong. Tough luck if they don’t like us.” Jace nodded, there was no need to draw attention to themselves. He sighed, “Give me the torch, Aegon. I’ll carry it: I’m not going to dance.” Aegon rolled his eyes, “seven hells… No, you're dancing. That’s the entire point.”

Jacaerys sat down beside his friend and relinquished his hold of the torch. “Come on kid, lovers are always in the mood for dancing.” He wrapped his arm around Jace’s shoulder. “Not me. It’s because of love that I’m not in the mood.” Aegon laughed, he did not have the same restraint as Luke. “What a fuss about nothing.” Lucerys hid his face as he chuckled. “So now you laugh at me?” He was offended to say the least. Of course, a scoundrel like Aegon could never understand love. He was too in love with himself to feel the agony Jace did. “You don’t know what it’s like until you’ve felt it. It hurts like hell.”

Aegon groaned, “It'll stop hurting once you’re inside. Hand me a mask, Aemond.” The other three boys gathered around him. “Now as soon as we’re in let’s all get down to some serious business.” Lucerys declared in the most serious voice he could manage. Jacaerys was reluctant, “I know we mean no harm and all, but I don’t think it’s very bright to go to this party.”

Aegon furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why?” The eldest boy sighed once again, “I had a dream last night.” His ears were filled with a symphony of groans from his friends.

“If we don’t get a move on, all the food will be gone by the time we get there.” Aemond spoke quickly as he bounced on his feet. Jacaerys glanced at the door and realized there was a hoard of people going through the doors. “I have a strong premonition that something’s going to happen tonight. I feel it’s going to end in my having to repay a debt with my life.”

“Pray tell, when did you become a dragon dreamer?” Aemond raised his brows at him. The boys glanced at each other once last time and threw their heads up in laughter. Fools, Jacaerys realized he was surrounded by jesters. He shrugged, “Alright then, off we go.”

The servants were running rampant trying to clean up after the dinner and prepare for the dancing. A few bumped in Jacaerys’s shoulder causing him to become more annoyed at being here. There was no joy to be found here unless it was with Baela.

They stood off to the side as Lord Targaryen walked upon a raised floor and waved to the crowd. “Welcome, gentlemen. Once there was a time when I could wear a mask and charm a girl by whispering a story in her ear. No more, no more, no more. If you aren’t old like me, all the ladies who aren’t suffering from corns on their feet will dance with you. Ha ha! My ladies, now which of you will refuse to dance now? If any of you acts shyly, I’ll swear she has corns. Come, musicians, play. Make room in the hall! Make room! Dance, girls.” Jacaerys realized again at that moment his family’s greatest foe was a fool.

You didn’t arrive early, nor did you arrive right on time. Lady Targaryen decided to arrive late to make an entrance and that you did. For a second all eyes were on you and the more than revealing evening gown you were forced to wear, twas not to your liking. Your father, Lord Daemon Targaryen had already begun making a spectacle of himself atop the hall.

Your nerves ached as you stared at the crowd in front of you. Instead of listening to your mother speak about how you need to charm your way into the Lannister’s heart you slipped away into the crowd. The guests took kindly to you and gladly swung you around as they danced. If you ever were filled with sorrow, dancing was sure to ease that pain.

Jacaerys noticed you too late, you were already dancing with other people. He had never laid eyes upon such a beautiful maiden in his entire life. Thus, his agony from earlier melted away and soon became long forgotten. He leaned over to Aegon, “Who is that girl on the arm of that man over there?”

“I do not know. Perhaps a cousin o’ mine by the hue of her hair.” Jace’s heart raced as you glanced over to him before quickly being spun the other way. “She teaches the torches to burn bright! Her beauty is too precious for this world like a white dove in a flock of crows, she surpasses all the other women. When this dance ends, I’ll note where she stands, and then I’ll touch her hand and bless my ugly one. Did I ever love anyone before this moment? Renounce that love, my eyes! I never saw true beauty until this night.” Aegon looked at his friend and began laughing to himself. “By the Gods, you are pathetic.”

You finished your dance quickly and bid the lord good night. The room was quickly becoming suffocatingly cramped so you moved to a pillar by the back wall. You watched the crowd sway in a trance-like state until you heard a voice from behind. The masked boy gently took your hand in his, “If I offend you by touching your holy hand with my own unworthy one, like two blushing smallfolk, then my lips stand ready to smooth my rough touch with a gentle kiss.”

Even though he wore a mask you could see his handsome features underneath. You couldn’t help but blush, “you are unfair to your hand. Your hand shows proper devotion by touching mine, just as smallfolks reach out to touch the hands of septas. Holding palm to palm is like a smallfolk’s kiss.” Jacaerys squeezed your hand, “Don’t septas have lips? And smallfolk, too?”

Quickly your cheeks became heated... was he flirting with you? Your face blessed his eyes with a smile, “Yes, smallfolk lips they’re supposed to use to pray.” His eyes were soft, and his smile warms your heart. “Oh septa, let lips do what hands do: pray. Grant my prayer or my faith will turn to despair.” Your heart beats with excitement, “Septas don’t move, though they do grant prayers.” He leaned in slowly and his voice turned into a hushed whisper, “then remain still while I pray.”

Your lips touched in the gentlest embrace. You weren’t sure what had driven you to behave like this, but something drove you to him. Mayhaps it was the poetry he used to lure you in that drove you to madness. “Thus, your lips have cleaned the sin from mine.”

You gazed at his charming smile, “Tis’ my lips that have the sin they took from yours.” He pulled your hand to his chest and studied your features, “Sin from my lips? How you goad me on to another crime. Give me back my sin.” It was impossible to resist the taste of affection he granted you. You leaned into his lips, “You kiss as if you’ve studied how.”

Your lips touched once more, this time you basked in their subtle warmth and tender flesh. You tasted sweet, like strawberries freshly picked from the garden. There was never a more perfect being than you, Jacaerys thought.

“Y/N, your mother needs to speak with you.” Your nurse’s voice immediately caused you to pull away. Jacaerys watched you walk away, and curiosity took over his newly healed heart, “What is that girl’s name, nurse?”

“Y/N Targaryen, daughter of the good lady Rhaenyra Targaryen.” Jacaerys stood frozen at her words. What a price I’ve paid, I’ve fallen for the enemy, he thought. Love must be a monster to make him love his worst enemy.

Jacaerys couldn’t stand to leave the Targaryen property until he laid eyes upon you one last time. His heart had been trapped here — nowhere else. Besides, he knew what would happen on the way home. His friends would jest at his expense, and he could frankly live without that. They would go on about Baela. Baela? Who was Baela again?

“Jacaerys! Hey Jacaerys!” The boys walked faster than he thought. He hopped behind a stone wall as they quickly approached where he was hiding. “Brother! Where art thou hiding?” Aegon began drunkenly shouting, “Ja-cae-rys! Ja-Ja-Ja-cae-rys!”

In a quick attempt to escape he climbed atop the wall and laid flat as they walked below him. Aemond, the tall lad, nearly saw him. “He’s run off home to avoid us,” Jace listened intently to Luke’s voice. “He’ll be in bed by now.” Aemond turned in in a circle and stood on his toes trying to peer over the wall. “No, I swear I just saw him a moment ago. I’ll bet he climbed over this orchard wall.”

“He’s vanished like a ghost… Let’s see if I can conjure him up.” Jacaerys lay, trying not to make a peep, listening to their drunken giggling. They huddled in a circle until Aegon emerged and began proudly shouting. “I conjure thee, Jacaerys Velaryon, in the name of Baela’s bright eyes!” Aegon spoke in the formal tone of a priest. “By her plush lips. And her round bum.”

Lucerys and Aemond burst out into a fit of giggles. “And quivering thighs! And everything else in that region!” Aegon held a hand in the air, “appear to us! Appear to us in the likeness of… of… yourself!” Lucerys slapped a hand over his mouth, “If he hears you, he’ll be furious.”

“Raising him in the name of his beloved would make him furious? That sounds fair to me,” Aegon placed his hands on his hips. “Let us waste no more time,” spoke Aemond when he had stopped laughing. “Since love is blind, leave him in the dark.” Aegon sighed, “oh well. Goodnight to Jacaerys” Lucerys raised his hands in defeat. “I’m going to bed. You’ll never find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

He was stuck atop the wall he climbed onto. The moon illuminated the dark part of the world he was trapped in. On one side was the orchard and the overwhelmingly large Targaryen mansion. On the other was the alley his friends escaped through. He stared at the mansion and began wondering to himself. You were in there. What were you doing? Were you thinking about him? Have your thoughts been consumed by him as his thoughts had been consumed by you.

A single window lit up and it reminded him so much of the sun. You were his sun and so much more beautiful than the moon. A goddess of the morning, you were. The gods granted his prayers as you opened the doors to your balcony and walked out. It’s my love, he whispered to himself.

Jacaerys wished you could see him sitting there, mayhaps it would be less creepy. You were talking but he couldn’t hear it. Surely, it wasn’t about him. As he stared at you his head was whirling with thoughts. How could someone be so beautiful, like two of the most radiant stars left the sky and told you to take their place. Your eyes shined so brightly in the heavens that you would believe it was daytime.

He watched you place your hand on your cheek and nearly fainted. Oh, how he wished to be a glove on your hand so he could touch that cheek. Jacaerys decided he had to get closer, he jumped off the wall and landed on his feet. He crept through the orchard until he was below your window barely hidden by a tree.

You sighed as you watched the stars paint the night sky. Your mind had been overcome with thoughts of the boy from before. You spoke out loud to yourself to ease your heart. “Jacaerys, Jacaerys, why must you be a Velaryon.” He wanted to reveal himself but chose to stay still and listen.

“It’s only your name that’s my enemy… If you loved me, I could take yours.” You paused and wondered about the strife between your families. “What is a “Velaryon”? Tis’ not a hand nor foot, nor arm or face. What’s in a name anyway? The dragon we call Balerion would still breathe fire no matter its name. Whatever name Jacaerys had would make no difference: he would still be perfect.”

Jace couldn’t handle it anymore. He leapt from behind the bush and lifted his arms. “I’ll take you at your word, just call me ‘love’ and that will be my new name,” he proclaimed.

You stumbled back, it was shocking to hear someone out there. You couldn’t recognize the voice at all. “Who’s out there? Coming here, watching me and eavesdropping like this?” He sighed, “I can’t tell you my name since you hate it so.” The voice was familiar, you leaned over the balcony, excitement lacing your voice. “Is it Jacaerys? Jacaerys Velaryon?”

“Neither” he said, “Since you dislike both names.” You glanced at him, “How and why did you come here? This place is dangerous, considering who you are. If any of my family finds you here your life may be forfeit.” He smiled back at you, “I climbed over the wall with the strength your love bestowed upon me. Do not fret for my safety, your eyes are more powerful than twenty of their swords. Just give me one look and I’ll be invincible.”

“Who told you where to find me?” Jacaerys found it impossible to be serious. “Love told me. I’m no navigator, but even if you were living in Asshai I would find my way to you.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly, “It’s a good thing it’s dark or you would see me blushing… Do you love me?” Jacaerys opened his mouth to respond but you kept rambling on. “Oh Jacaerys, if you do love me, please tell me honestly… Or if you think I’m too fast tell me, and I’ll put on an act and be coy and play hard to get. I’m so in love with you: that’s why I’m being so forward. I should have been all shy, I know, and would have if you hadn’t overheard my real feelings. So, forgive me.”

He rushed to speak, “I swear by the moon…” You leaned over the balcony, “don’t swear by the moon! The moon’s too changeable.” Jacaerys’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What shall I swear by?”

“Swear by yourself and I’ll believe you. No, don’t swear. Although I love you, I don’t like this – making commitments like this. It’s too sudden, too fast. It’s not a good idea.” Jacaerys couldn’t understand what you were doing at all. You said you loved him and now you’re saying it’s not a good idea? He couldn’t let this be. “Are you just going to leave it like that?”

You sighed, “What more could we do tonight?” He paused to think. “Make faithful vows of love.” It was high past your bedtime, and you could hear your nurse calling from the other room. You couldn’t just leave him so quickly after you said all of that. “Just a few more words and I must leave, dear Jacaerys. If you really mean it, and you want to marry me, send me a message tomorrow. I’ll send someone to you, and you’ll tell them where and what time you’ve arranged a wedding.”

You leant over the balcony and reached out towards Jacaerys. “If you’re trifling with me, please leave me alone to wallow in my sorrow.” You turned and ran towards the sound of your nurse calling. He was left dumbfounded, you left without a goodbye and claimed he did not mean it! It felt as if the sun itself had been burned out. Jacaerys turned to leave but your voice carried him back.

“Psst! Jacaerys! Pssst!” He walked over and gazed up at you. “Jacaerys. What time shall I send someone?” He chuckled to himself, “at nine.” You laughed, “It’ll feel like twenty years till then… Oh! I’ve forgotten why I called you back.” He smiled up at you, “I’ll stay here until you remember it.”

“Then I’ll never remember it, so that you’ll stand there forever.” He blushed, “I’ll keep standing here, hoping you’ll keep forgetting. And I’ll forget that I’ve got any other home but this.” You bit your lip and thought about speaking more but the sun peaking over the horizon caught your eye. “It’s almost morning, you must leave now.” You spoke in a hushed whisper. After you gave him one last lingering gaze you took off towards your room.

Jacaerys had healed his heart and found a wife in the same night. He took off out of the orchard and towards the chapel to tell Septon Daeron what had happened.

Septon Daeron was up early. The clouds in the southern sky were streaked with light as the night scurried out of the way of the advancing day. He wanted to fill his basket with a mixture of poisonous and healing herbs before the sun came up to dry the dew.

“Morning, Septon,” he shouted from across the field. Jacaerys ran up to him heavily panting. He looked over the boy's features, “Who’s this then, visiting me so early in the morning? Is there something wrong, being up so early?” Jace smiled, “You’re wrong, I had a better rest.”

“Gods pardon you, have you been with Baela?” Jacaerys’s brow furrowed. “Baela? No. I’ve forgotten that name and everything about her.” Septon Daeron smiled, “that’s my boy! But where have you been then?” Jacaerys spoke quickly, “I was dining with my enemies when suddenly one of them wounded me and you’re the one who can heal me.” Daeron looked at him confusingly, “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“To put it plainly, I fell in love with a Targaryen’s daughter, and she with me. You must marry us, and you must do so today.” The Septon stopped dead in his tracks. “By the seven! What a turnabout. Have you forgotten Baela? Am I to understand that young men love with their eyes and not their hearts? You cried buckets for Baela, the sound of your groans is still ringing in my ears.”

“You told me off all the time for loving Baela.” Septon Daeron debated, “For being infatuated, not loving, my boy.” Jace sighed, “And told me to bury my love.” Daeron scoffed, “Not to dig another one up.” Jacaerys grabbed his hands. “Please, don’t reprimand me. The one I love now loves me in return. The other didn’t.”

‘Because she could see you didn’t mean it.’ Friar Lawrence was thinking. Marrying the two young people from the feuding families would be a disaster and he couldn’t possibly agree to it. Or could he? It may be the best way of bringing the families together. It could just be the salvation of Verona. It took him a second to decide. ‘Come on then, you young rascal,’ he said. ‘Come with me. This is one thing I can help you with. This could be the answer: the thing to turn your households’ hatred into love.’

“Where in the seven hells could Jacaerys be?” Aegon and Lucerys sat in the shade of the fountain’s wall. It was another dull day in King’s Landing. “Didn’t he come home last night?” Lucerys continued playing in the dust, “Not to fathers house.” Aegon huffed out a laugh, “Who would have thought it? The cold Baela should have the power to drive him crazy.”

“Hey!” Shouted Lucerys as Jacaerys ran towards them. “Here he is, the man himself.” Aegon stood up, “look at him. What a lad.” He bowed, “ Rytsas Jacaerys, sesīr kipi! How’s that for a nice Valyrian greeting? You cheated us well last night.” He stopped in his tracks, “Excuse me?” Aegon wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t you remember kid? You gave us the slip.”

“I’m sorry Aegon. I had important business.” Aegon didn’t accept that as a proper excuse. They began making fun of each other, exchanging insults. Jacaerys’s friends were pleased to see that he was back to his normal. At least they thought he was normal again. “Isn’t this better than groaning for love? Now you’re sociable – you’re Jacaerys again, the Jacaerys we all know.”

Jacaerys was unable to take the big grin off his face. He kept looking around the square: whenever he saw any movement he looked up. And alas your nurse all dressed up in full skirts and a billowing train appeared in front of him. So, this was the messenger you had sent for him. Jacaerys, and his friends joined him as he ran to greet the Nurse.

Aegon grabbed the train and flapped it up and down for a jest. The Nurse turned and gave him a backhand which sent him flying into the dust. “Good morning, gentlemen,” said the Nurse. “Good afternoon, fair gentlewoman,” mocked Aegon, rubbing his jaw. “Is it afternoon already?” she asked sincerely. “Oh yes, the rude hand of the dial is now right on the cock of noon.”

“Disgusting! You disgusting man.” Aegon and Lucerys burst into giggles. “Can any of you wastrels tell me where I can find young Jacaerys?” Everyone peered over at Jace. “I can tell you, it’s me. I’m the youngest of that name. For better or worse.”

“Well said.” The Nurse grinned. “That was well said? You’re not hard to please, are you?” Aegon grinned wider. The Nurse waved him away and he threw himself on to the ground dramatically, lifted her skirt an inch and peeked under it and received another well aimed slap for that. “If you are he, I’d like a word with you… without the scoundrels you surround yourself with.” She winced and blew on her stinging hand.

“I think she’s going to proposition him,” Lucerys leaned over and whispered to Aegon. “A whore, a whore!” cried Aegon, “Tally ho” The young men came closer and began walking around her. “Leave us alone, children.” She swatted them away like flies. Aegon finally ceased his teasing after she spouted a fair share of insults. “Farewell, old girl,” sang Aegon, walking backwards, bowing. “Lady, lady, lady.”

“Who’s the cheeky one? All those tricks!” She watched as they walked away with a face laced with clear disgust. “Just a fellow who loves the sound of his own voice.” She looked at Jacaerys. “As I was trying to say, I want a word with you. My young lady told me to find you.”

“Tell her to find some way of going to confession this afternoon and there at Septon Daeron’s chapel she’ll be given absolution and married, all at the same time.” He pulled a little bag out of his pocket. “No,” she said as she took the money and hid it in her clothing. “Not a penny. This afternoon, you say? Well, she’ll be there.”

“If you’re loyal to us I’ll pay you well. Goodbye, give your mistress my love.” She grinned, “bless you, bless you, Sir.” Jacaerys shouted as she walked away, “give her my love, Nurse!” The nurse was all smiles twirling the coins in her pocket. “Of course! With pleasure.”

You could see by the way the sun hung over the distant hill that it was twelve o’clock. Your Nurse had been gone three hours! She had promised to return in half an hour. Mayhaps she hadn’t found him! No, that couldn’t be. The messengers of love should be as light as thoughts, traveling ten times faster than sunbeams, pushing all doubts and fears away, as light does to threatening shadows.

If your Nurse had any feelings – any passion whatsoever – your message would travel as fast as a tennis ball. The Nurse would be the ball. You would serve and Jacaerys would return it just as fast. But like all old people, the Nurse might as well be dead. You stuck your head out of the window every few seconds, searching the alleyway along which the Nurse would come.

And alas, there she was!

You rushed downstairs and into the garden, meeting the Nurse as a servant was opening the gate for her. You flung yourself at your old friend. “What did he say? Did you find him? Send your servant away.” The nurse didn’t expect to be bombarded with questions as soon as she returned. She turned to her servant and forced him to leave.

“Whew, I‘m exhausted, leave me alone for a while.” She sank down onto a bench and started to fan herself. You wanted to scream with impatience. “Would you just give me your news! Please, Nurse, I beg of you, tell me. Please, dear, dear Nurse, tell me!”

‘Gods, what a hurry you’re in! Can’t you wait a minute. Can’t you see I’m out of breath?’ You rolled your eyes, “How can you be out of breath when you’ve got enough breath to tell me you’re out of breath?” The Nurse shook her head sadly. “Well, all I can say is that you’ve made a bad choice. You’ve no idea how to choose a man. Jacaerys! No, not him, he’s not the one.”

She got up suddenly and yawned. “Off with you now, girl. Get on with it. Have you had your dinner?” You huffed out a breath filled with growing annoyance. “What did he say about us getting married? What about that?”

The Nurse slid back on to the bench and lay, reclining. “Lord, what a headache I’ve got. It’s pounding so hard that it feels as though it’s going to break into twenty pieces.” She tried to stand up. “Oh, my back. Shame on you, sending me all over the place like that. It’ll be the death of me.”

You scoffed, ‘Honestly, I’m very sorry you’re not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse. What did my love say?” The Nurse heaved a huge sigh. ‘Your love says, like an honest man, and a courteous, and a kind and a handsome, and, I have no doubt, a good-” She stopped and looked towards the house. You pondered if she was doing this to drive you mad! “Where’s your mother?”

You through your hands in the air, “in there, where do you think she is? What a strange answer. Your love says, like an honest man, where is your mother?” The nurse groaned in pain… though it seemed like false pain to you. “Good Gods, my dear young woman, bad tempered with me? Is this the thanks I get for my aching bones? Do your own dirty work from now on.”

“This is impossible, come on, what did Jacaerys say?” The Nurse stopped rubbing her back and took your hands. “Have you got permission to go to confession today?” You nodded excitedly as a smile blessed your face once more.

“Then get yourself to Septon Daeron’s as quickly as you can. There’s a husband waiting there to make you a wife.” She smiled at you genuinely before turning you and patting your bum. “Off with you. I’m going to have my dinner. Go on Hurry.”

The chapel was chilled today even though the sun was boiling the ground outside. Jacaerys watched heat waves rising above the wildflowers which grew unhindered across the hillside. Septon Daeron was going on a small tangent about how feelings can lead to disaster and to be careful. But Jacaerys wasn’t listening. He had been watching the brow of the hill and when your head appeared he sprang up and rushed to the door while the Septon was still talking.

You came, running so softly that it was as if you weren’t touching the ground. You didn’t even have a chance to say hello before he embraced you. Jace clung to you like a newborn babe and kissed you again and again. Septon Daeron pulled you apart gently.

“Dear Y/N, if you are as happy as I am and can express it better, then tell me how much happiness you imagine we have when we add it all up.” you laughed and shoved his shoulder, “as usual, you say ridiculous things… People who can count their wealth are poor: my true love has grown so huge that I couldn’t measure half of it.”

“Enough of this nonsense. Let’s get on with it. Follow me.” The Septon forced you two to refrain from embracing each other during the ceremony; thankfully it was quick. You both were told to sit on your knees and pray before vows were exchanged. You pretended to be praying as you snuck glances at your soon to be husband.

Daeron told you both to stand, neither of you had cloaks to exchange so instead you skipped right to the vows. It was painfully obvious to Daeron how ill prepared and immature the two lovers he was marrying were. A subtle feeling of dread washed over him staring at the pair.

You intertwined your hands with each other upon command. “With this kiss, I pledge my love. And take you for my lady wife.” You smiled bigger than you ever had before, “With this kiss, I pledge my love. And take you for my lord husband.” The Septon cleared his voice and declared, “one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Your lips crashed into each other in a searing embrace. A short-lived embrace as Daeron cleared his throat behind you. Your happiness was short lived as you both were quickly pulled apart.

A plan was already in motion. Once the sun set and the moon rose over the horizon, the nurse would sneak out once again and inform your beloved it was safe. Then you would let a ladder fall from your balcony which he would climb up. It was the same place in the orchard where he watched you the other night.

You would finally be able to consummate the marriage, and no one would be able to separate you. Not your parents, cousins, church, or state. Only the gods would be able to tear you from your true love… Soon you would realize how cruel the Gods could be.

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