#i attempted to punch writers block in the face to write this with questionable success LOL

[williamvapespeare]

77 for exr, OR 18 with whatever ship you prefer :D have a safe trip!!

77. “There is nothingwrong with you.”

i’m sorry this took me forever!! i’ve written a bunch of hardcore angst recently so i tried to write some - hopefully successful - canon era flirting. i hope you like it! (and i did have a safe trip, thanks lol)

-

The sun is low in thesky, sitting softly on the horizon as if it’s waiting for some cue to vanishcompletely. There’s laughter in the air around him, an early spring breeze, andjust enough alcohol in his system to take the edge off living. It’s the kind oflate afternoon-turned evening that makes most people notice they’re alive againfor the first time in months, but Grantaire has never been most people.

He’s spent the afternoon outside, wandering.He’s finally stopped at a café for the evening and taken up residence at one ofthe tables outside, watching as people in the streets stop and look up at the fadingblue of the sky between buildings, look around at each other and smile withsomething like surprise. He’s leaning back in his chair, one foot proppedagainst a leg of the table in front of him, a half full glass in hand.

He looks, to all theworld, like he is simply out, enjoying the last of the unexpected sun, a fronthe is happy to put up, in an attempt to hide the way his mind is running incircles. He is so consumed with the façade, in fact, that he almost doesn’t noticewhen someone peels off from the anonymous lull of people around him andapproaches his table.  

“Grantaire, do you have amoment?” He tries not to let his surprise show on his face as he leans forward andinclines his head slightly.

“Enjolras.” Enjolras soundsso formal, stiff and slightly awkward as he hovers at Grantaire’s shoulder,that Grantaire can’t help but mimic his tone. “I was just,” he glances at thehalf empty bottle in front of him, “I’m sure it’s perfectly clear what I wasdoing. Have you come to join me?”

He half intends it to bea joke. He expects Enjolras to roll his eyes or for the lines of his foreheadto show some small sign of exasperation, but instead he nods.

Never quite one to bedrawn in by fashion, Enjolras has taken off his jacket in the day’s unexpectedheat. It’s draped over his arm, covering a stack of papers and he deposits bothcarefully onto the table as he pulls out an empty chair and sits down.

His sleeves are rolled upto the elbows and as his hands come to rest on the arms of his chair, Grantairenotices flecks of ink on his fingers. Up close, his arms look stronger thanthey should, for someone who spends so much of his time reading and writing. Thoughthat’s not the only thing he does, Grantaire knows. For a moment, he imaginesblood running through those ink stained fingers, up his arms to stain the whiteof his sleeves, pooling crimson around blond curls.

He blinks the thoughtaway, lifts his glass in Enjolras’s direction in a sort of salute, unsure howto proceed.

“Was there something youwanted?”

Enjolras glances at him.

“I haven’t seen much ofyou lately. At meetings or,” He pauses, his expression hesitant, “anywhereelse.”

“Were you worried aboutme?” Grantaire raises an eyebrow in something like disbelief.

“Despite myself, I findthat I do miss your contributions.”

Grantaire takes a drink, hopeshis surprise isn’t as evident on his face as he feels. He means to backtrack,knows that at any other time, he would say something that made Enjolras shakehis head, make him back away from the possibility of anything resemblingintimacy between them.

Intimacy, he knows, requiresa degree of sincerity that he tries his best to stay clear of. On Enjolras, itis beautiful, alight with all his passion, all the depth of his love. But onGrantaire, sincerity is ugly and raw, a bit too much like despair for him to domuch of anything but drown it in the bottom of a bottle, which is why hisresponse catches even himself off-guard.  

“This time of year alwaysworries me. It feels wrong.” Grantaire laughs, struck by a bitterness that hasnothing to do with the wine. “I don’t know how you stand me, Enjolras. Thechanging of seasons is nothing compared to the changing of my moods.” He looksaway. “I suppose the answer is that you don’t stand me at all. Not that I blameyou.”

And Enjolras hasn’t, itseems, until now.

He feels Enjolras’s eyeson him, burning with a quiet intensity that he knows well enough to imagine inalmost perfect detail.

“There is nothing wrongwith you.” Enjolras says finally, unexpectedly. Grantaire looks back at him insurprise. “To be weary of change, of seasons, it’s natural I think. They play abigger role than any of us can know. The faster time passes, the less of it wehave.” Enjolras’s hand lands lightly on his shoulder, perhaps in an attempt toput him at ease, but if anything, it makes his heart race even faster. He says,almost matter-of-factly, as if it explains away any further uncertainty on thesubject: “It’s almost summer.”

“I’ve never known you towax poetical about the philosophies of time.” Grantaire says, coking his headsideways in confusion, or whatever the name is for the vague but insistentfeeling of desperateness that comes over him whenever Enjolras is close, thetightening in his chest at the mention of summer.

Enjolras blushes, light colorsoftening the sharp lines of his cheekbones. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

He’s never seen Enjolrasblush before, doesn’t think he’s ever been comfortable enough around him to lethis guard down like this, and he bites back a smile when he sees it.

“I wouldn’t be too sureof that,” his tone light and teasing in a way he hopes Enjolras won’t misconstrueor take offense with, “Spend enough time around me and I’ll make a philosopherout of you yet. After all, even Diogenes had an Plato to balance out hiswoes.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes, “Youthink too little of yourself,” he says. “You may not believe in the plights ofmen, but at least you can distinguish them from birds.”

Grantaire laughs then, genuineand amused. Enjolras laughs too, quietly, as if it is an amusement meant for justthe two of them. His hand has left its place on Grantaire’s shoulder,and for a moment, it comes back to rest lightly against his wrist, a thumbbrushing over Grantaire’s heavy pulse.

And Grantaire thinks thatthe warmth spreading in his chest has nothing to do with the spring day or thefuzziness of wine beginning to steep into his brain. Enjolras is still talkingto him, his attention fixed on Grantaire, one hand gesturing into the air inthe approximation of some grand indefinable ideal.

As the last light of theafternoon fades, someone comes by and lights a candle at their table and the flickeringlight turns Enjolras’s hair a shade closer to gold, a flame in the darknessthat, despite all his fears, has yet to be extinguished.

Grantaire thinks that perhaps, spring is not so bad after all.

#enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les mis #lesamis #thank you so much for sending a prompt i hope it's ok! #i attempted to punch writers block in the face to write this with questionable success LOL #also hope yall enjoy my victor hugo levels of subtle foreshadowing #the reader will by now have realised that it was ALMOST JUNE

[creativeashproductions]

Banjo Riff // Platonic!Reggie Peters

IN WHICH: Luke rejects Reggie’s ideas for country music one too many times leading to the friendship fracturing and putting the bands future in question. Luke, with the help of his girlfriend the reader and his friends scramble to make it up to the bassist.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt!Reggie, Luke being an ass, fighting, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.2k

A/N: This idea has been sitting in my notes for MONTHS now. Song referenced is Lay Here With Me by Maddie & Tae (featuring Dierks Bentley)

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

If there was one thing Sunset Curve, then later Julie and the Phantoms would rely on, it was the battle between Luke and Reggie. Since the conception of a band between the friends, Reggie had always wanted to play a country song. He had learned how to play the banjo in preparation, but Luke rejected both the idea and songs as always.

"You said our sound was vintage '80s and '90s rock music Luke. The band evolved into a pop-rock sound-"

"Because our band changed from Sunset Curve to Julie and the Phantoms. I love you, man, but there's no way we're going country." Luke finally snapped with a heated glare on his face. Luke didn't mean to snap so severely, but it happened.

Luke watched as Reggie's face completely dropped into the kicked puppy expression that tore everyone apart. Instead of making light of the conversation, Reggie mutely nodded in response before turning to grab his bass for the band practice. Luke's stomach dropped at the rather odd behaviour, but Luke blamed his response on his current writers' block.

"Let's start with Flying Solo." Luke proclaimed, hoping Reggie's favourite song would cheer him up. Alex's curious gaze bounced between the two other males in the band just as Julie wandered into the garage.

Before Julie could even question the tension, Reggie had started the beat on the pad stationed on the keyboard. The young female immediately jumped into the first rehearsal song with ease. Every attempt Julie was about to question Reggie's uncharacteristic quiet, the bassist started a different song.

"What's his problem?" Julie questioned as Reggie packed up his stuff and practically sprinted out of the studio. He'd rejected the offer of a pizza movie night.

"Luke here decided to be an asshole again." Alex's tone of voice was sugary sweet in comparison to the glare he sent his guitarist. 

Luke flinched at the furious expression on his bandmate's face. It wasn't a secret Julie and Reggie gravitated to each other in sibling bond. The two had been friends since infancy through their parents; Julie was there when the Peters started fighting. Reggie was there when Julie's mom passed away.

"Don't kill me!" Luke pleaded, scrambling around the piano from the intimidating Puerto Rican who had a solid punch. Julie's anger faltered at the guilt on the boy's face, "I was frustrated, and I shouldn't have taken it out on him!"

"What did Reggie do to deserve it?" Julie asked from the other side of the piano, acting as a barrier between the teenagers.

"He asked about the band doing a country song," Luke admitted with a grimace. His hazel eyes dimmed once more.

"What is your issue with country music? Your girlfriend is literally a country singer Luke!" Alex cried, stepping in between the two feuding bandmates.

Rock n' Roll Luke Patterson had been dating a well-known country singer for close to two years now. Luke had always been adamant that country wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but if you looked in the false bottom of the console in his car, you'd see a different story. Beneath the Eagles, Nirvana, AC/DC, and Gun N' Roses CDs, you'd find countless CDs of his girlfriend. He even had a playlist with a name that concealed the music in it.

Luke was a secret country fan, but he'd take that to his grave before he let anyone other than you know that.

"I don't have an issue! I don't think our band would benefit from branching into that music genre!" Luke argued with his bare arms crossing over his chest. Both Julie and Alex were about to respond when the studio gained another inhabitant.

"Would anyone like to explain why Reggie stormed into my house holding his songbook? He literally dropped it in my garage and tried to light it on fire?" You asked from the double doors with said book in your hand.

All three out of four members of Julie and the Phantoms recognized the book with a country landscape. The sight caused all their stomachs to drop at the obvious symbol of Reggie's hurt feelings.

"Funny story-"

"Luke Patterson...did you hurt his feelings about his love of country?" You asked through clenched teeth. Your response was Luke wincing at the anger blistering in your tone, "Did you ever think that country music is his comfort music? Fix this, Luke. Reggie, of all people, doesn't deserve your frustration."

You turned on your heel with Julie following in the attempt to find the forlorn bassist, most likely being hard on himself. You checked the beach house Reggie's dad had gotten in the divorce to no success. The school auditorium was empty, and so was the stable where Reggie worked part-time for the horses. You had returned back to Julie's house to sit on the porch to brainstorm.

"Isn't this the week he's with his mom?" Julie questioned with a furrowed brow. You could only shrug as Julie pulled up the calendar she shared with Flynn.

Reggie's parents had somewhat amicably divorced two years ago after attempts of reconciliation through therapy. Reggie had sat down with them to tell them how he felt with them fighting, if you recalled. They decided to do a trial separation for a few months and, in the end, had mutually agreed to divorce.

"I think Mr. Peters is taking care of his mother in a different state. She broke her hip, and now she's being moved into a retirement home." You offered the girl the encapsulated sunshine in just her smile.

"I suppose we'll try the Carter-Peters home." Julie breathed, bouncing on her feet to your car parked in front of her house. Julie's fingers tapped the screen in a chat thread she hadn't touched for months.

Your keen eyes easily read Carrie Wilson's name at the top of the thread that had been dormant since the end of their friendship. Apparently, Julie received little help in the frustrated sigh she released and the increasingly violent tapping of her screen.

"As usual, Carrie is no help," Julie announced with disgust in her voice. She squeezed the hand you placed on her knee before your hand returned to the wheel.

"One day, you'll have to tell me what happened between the two of you."

"Old news. Happened just before you moved back from Nashville." Julie once more avoided talking about the issues. 

It was the same response every time you questioned the friendship that had fractured in the few years you'd been in Nashville. Before you left, Carrie and Julie had been attached at the hip, and when you came back, they were at each other's throats. Well, mostly Carrie was because Julie had too big of a heart to stand up to her former friend.

"Well, the beat-up van is still there." Julie caught the van, more of an eyesore, to be honest, sitting in the three-car driveway. The van was shared between Reggie and Flynn as a joint gift from their parents when Reggie's mom moved in with Flynn and her father.

"We both know Reggie-"

"Would walk to work through his problems. The number of times I've found in walking downtown…" Julie trailed with a shake of her half up half down hairstyle she left uncovered by a hat. Another symbol of her finding herself outside the grief that had concealed her.

"Oh, thank god." Flynn moaned from the front porch with her headphones resting on her shoulders instead of her ears, "He's been playing his old bass that makes that odd high pitch squeak noise. I couldn't take it. Get him out!"

You opened and closed your mouth with the inability to find the words, but Flynn knew already, "Doors unlocked. He's in his room."

"Thanks." You informed the fashionable teenager before brushing passed into the house. Not much had changed since Reggie had moved part-time into the house; his parents shared custody.

Flynn was right; the sound of that screech was like a bread trail to the last bedroom in the hallway to the left. The door opened a smidge to reveal Reggie sitting in the dim room with just his bedside lamp on. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Reggie." You breathed from leaning against the door jam, "I'm not sure what Luke said but don't give up on writing. Your songs mean something, Reginald."

"Then why doesn't Luke even read my lyrics? He barely read the title of my last one before tossing it aside!" Reggie whined before taking on a caricature of Luke's voice, "'Home is Where my Horse Is'? Reggie, stop putting your songs in my book!"

You couldn't help the snort at his interpretation of Luke, "That's a...uh...an accurate voice?"

Reggie didn't even crack a smile.

"Okay, maybe don't push Luke's buttons but imagine turning this hurt into songs!"

"Okay. Can I be left alone?"

"Sure." You sighed, turning to leave the room again, "But first. Don't get rid of this Reg. You have good songs." 

You left Reggie's songbook on the dresser by his door on your way through the Carter-Peters household. Flynn sighed in relief when Reggie didn't continue using his old bass and even waved as you and Julie pulled away from the curb.

Reggie's eyes had stayed on the songbook you left on his second-hand dresser as if it would get up and bite him. All he could see was Luke rolling his eyes when Reggie had opened the book to show him a new song he'd written. Reggie was tired of only being known for playing bass.

"I brought you some leftover pizza." Reggie wasn't aware he'd been staring at the songbook for hours by then. He was only aware of Luke when he offered a peace offering in the form of Reggie's favourite food.

"I-"

"I'll go grab a soda from the fridge." Luke retreated just as quick as he had entered the bedroom. Seeing Luke was like rubbing salt in the open wound, and once more, Reggie's emotions flared.

Reggie was already at the fire pit in the backyard when Luke had argued with Flynn overtaking one of her sodas. The soda that had dropped on the back porch as Luke saw Reggie's fingers about to drop the songbook in the crackling fire.

"Reggie!" Luke shouted, ignoring the cold spray of soda on his bare arms. The hazel-eyed guitarist shoved Reggie away from the fire.

"What the hell, dude?" Reggie groaned, rolling onto his stomach to push himself to his sit on his knees. His blue eyes seeing Luke stomping the ignited corner of the songbook that had caused them issues.

"What the hell were you doing, Reggie?" Luke demanded with the songbook held tight in his grip. The glare on the messy-haired teenager directly pinned on his best friend, "Why would you try to destroy the book?"

"What's the point of having something our band won't branch into?" Reggie shrugged, moving to sit with his knees pulled to chest, "I've tried to keep the peace but Luke. I'm starting to understand why Bobby left the band."

Luke's heart clenched at the honesty Reggie was revealing, "What do you mean?"

"Screw the blood pact." Reggie grumbled, recalling the oath Alex, Bobby, and he had done to keep the truth from Luke, "Bobby didn't leave because he got an early acceptance into Juilliard."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed together, "What?"

"Luke...you tend to get possessive over the music we make. You brushed off Bobby's opinions, and we all didn't want to hurt your feelings. You've had a shitty time with your parents, but like Bobby, I feel like you don't appreciate our talents."

"What? Dude, you're killer on the bass! Alex's insane on the drums!"

"We know that. Maybe Bobby should have told you the truth on why he was leaving. I don't think you noticed but 

"Luke. The songs we perform are all written by you. It was fine, but then when Julie joined, all of a sudden, you were okay with someone else writing with you. But you've never even looked at the songs I've written."

Luke silently listened as Reggie rambled on about how he, along with Bobby, felt underappreciated by the guitarist. 

"And now you've been bit by the writers' block bug, but I think the band should take a break. Get our heads back on straight. Before we destroy the band, destroy our friendships." Reggie told his best friend with tears rolling down his face, "Just a week or two."

Luke's mouth hung open as Reggie circled around him to enter the household, but the telltale sound of the lock engaging broke the teenager. But Luke wasn't one to give up, so he created a group chat with Alex, Julie, Flynn and you. A single text that had all of them meeting at the studio.

"He quit the band?" Alex demanded, taking the songbook from Luke's hand, "What the hell?"

"One second he's in his room, and the next he's about to burn that! I may not like-"

"Luke, have you even read a single song he wrote?" You asked your boyfriend with your arms resting down on your knees. The boy in question half-heartedly shrugged with his eyes on his battered shoes.

"How are we gonna fix this?" Julie asked with a frown marring her pretty face usually lit up with sunshine. Her question was left to waft in the forlorn atmosphere in her family's studio.

"Give me that." You demanded towards the band's drummer with determination lit up in your eyes. Alex hesitantly handed over the songbook to your grabby hands.

The other individuals in the room watched as you settled into a chair with a stray acoustic guitar you'd left. Your eyes focused on the notes Reggie had placed around one of the unfinished songs. The soft melody was played a few times before you noticed Alex creating a beat with his drums.

"If I just tweak the song to make this piece the verse instead of a chorus." You mumbled under your breath with a pen scratching the paper. In a different colour, you jotted down the lyrics of a song you'd been working on previously. It was a song you'd struggled with the ending.

Alex huddled around you to add his own notes for the drums, "Definitely a song with a soft backing beat."

"Perfect. I just joined what he has with a song I'd given up a while back. The two songs are the last two pieces of a puzzle." You informed the drummer. Both of you unaware as Julie, Luke, and Flynn watched your brainstorming.

Luke felt out of sorts not being included in writing a song, but he thought it was suitable to not work on it. It gave Luke insight into how Reggie felt not being included in songwriting.

"I have an idea." Luke interjected with a grin, "Reggie's always wanted to see a real ranch. Do you think your uncle would be okay with us staying at the ranch?"

Your eyes flitted up to the mischievous hazel of your boyfriend's scheming gaze, "My uncle adores having people on the ranch. He'd enjoy teaching Reggie the ways of ranch life out of a city."

"How are you gonna get Reggie out to Nashville without it being band business?" Flynn questioned from her position on the couch, "He did just ask for a break from the band."

"Uh...I could pretend to enter a music competition." You offered hesitantly as you'd never actually performed on a stage for the group. You'd kept your personal life separate from your successful career as a country musician.

So you conspired with your friends to make amends with the bassist.

One Month Later, Nashville

The beat-up van pulled into a parking spot in front of a building. The band had seen the building in pictures on your Instagram. Alex, Luke and Julie all shared a look Reggie couldn't catch with his mouth wide open at the city.

"So, where's this competition?" Reggie inquired with his steps in line with Julie. The distance between Reggie and Luke is still noticeable.

True to Reggie's word, the band had come back together after two weeks of a break, but the bassist and guitarist's friendship was still fractured. A particular cloud of awkwardness followed each attempt; Luke tried to branch it together.

"Uh, not here. Y/N invited me to tour the recording studio she uses through her label." Luke offered to the confused bassist. As usual, Reggie barely cast a glance at the guitarist.

"C'mon!" Alex called out from the open doorway with the new addition of you by his side.

Luke was quick to nearly tackle you in a hug and a lingering kiss on your lips. The band all made sounds of feigned disgust. Even Reggie joined in the usual banter within the group.

"Hey, Reggie, do you want to see how us country artists do it?" You quipped with your arm interlocking with his. The cold leather of his jacket raising goosebumps on your arm as you dragged him to the recording booth.

As soon as he was comfortable on one of the spinney chairs by the producer's side, he watched like a hawk. The band had never been in a real professional recording studio owned by a label. It was interesting to everyone, but mostly they all watched Reggie's reactions.

"I was working on this song." You spoke from inside the booth. With a nod, your producer began playing a portion of the song.

"Is...is that-" Reggie was cut off by as Luke interrupted him.

"Your song? Yeah." 

Reggie stared at his best friend, "What?"

"You were right, Reggie. I didn't appreciate what you could bring to the band, and I'm so fucking sorry about that. You have excellent songs even if I'm not a fan of country music." Luke genuinely informed his best friend with his hands clasping his, "I want you. Both you and Alex to have a bigger role because we started this band together. We all share responsibility."

"So for now. Alex and I finished one of the songs you had written. I was wondering if you'd like to make it a duet? Release it as a single with a full writing credit."

Reggie absolutely beamed in response to your question. He was in the recording booth beside you in mere seconds.

For the week the band stayed on your uncle's ranch, Reggie was in the studio with you going over the song. It is a song you released as the leading single for your upcoming studio album with Reggie and cemented his career. It wasn't the last time you did a song with Reggie. In fact, he set himself up as a sought after country songwriter.

"Holy shit!" Luke shouted as soon as Reggie told him the success of one of the songs had brought interest to Julie and the Phantoms, "I could kiss you! I'll never doubt your skills!"

Reggie and Luke's fractured friendship healed with the promise of a yearly visit to the ranch in Nashville. Plus, Reggie impressed Luke and Alex with the banjo riff in a country song the band released on their third studio album featured by you. Reggie would always be thankful he had the chance to record ‘Lay Here With Me’ with you.

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#reggie peters #reggie peters imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #platonic!reggie peters #platonic!reggie peters x reader #julie and the phantoms #reginald peters #musician!reader x luke patterson #alive!luke patterson #alive!reggie peters

[nemossubmarine]

DA RP Write-up #17.4

The finale of our adventures as dolls is upon us. Now let’s see how confusing this write-up becomes as I try to keep track of who is in which body. For now the formula is name of character (name of the body they’re in).

The last session ended with the lady of the house Maeve (in Cahair) catching us in the act of trying to reclaim our bodies and thus a battle is a-brewing.

Maeve attempts to cast a spell of some kind, but it backfires in some way and all the empty bodies + Cahair’s body twitch for a bit.

Humbert takes Renata with him as well as the sword Renata used to pry open the box of ingredients and takes them to the mummified corpse of Maeve, threatening Maeve about the body’s destruction.

Maeve attempts to cast another spell, and this time it works. The empty body of Randy opens its eyes and joins the fray, bull-charging towards Humbert.

Humbert uses Renata as a shield

Humbert tries to hack the mummy’s head of its shoulders.

Alf and Cahair attempt to use the winch system to get the body of Alf to the ritual circle in the middle to get the body and soul to the same place.

Randy, wielding the steak knife he took from the dining room, brings it down on the Achilles’ tendon of Maeve (ie Cahair). 

Maeve tries to step on Randy with little success. What is succesful however is her resurrection of Alf’s body as another minion.

Cahair (doll) jumps against the back of Randy (possessed) to distract him. Randy picks him up and squeezes him.

Humbert sticks the sword into the mummy’s eyesocket, causing Maeve to shout in protest.

Alf (doll) makes his way to his own possessed body, makes his way up the robes and into his own mouth, trying to suffocate himself.

Alf (body) gags, but cant rid himself of this intruder.

Randy hits Maeve’s ankles three more times, surely severing something bad, and forces Maeve backwards, so she falls down.

Maeve casts a spell on Humbert, causing him to hallucinate that his friends are turning into demons and that Boshara, laying on the side table, is dead.

In Randy’s (possessed) clutches, Cahair uses his pin to severe the nail of Randy’s thumb in an effort to get him to release him.

Which he does, throwing him near Humbert as he barrels towards his master Maeve and Randy (doll). 

Unfortunately for Cahair (doll), this isn’t any better, as Humbert pierces through the doll body with his sword, telling Cahair that he always knew he’d turn out bad, and how he’d stop him. 

Cahair is quite literally halved.

Alf (body) throws up Alf (doll) who tries to aim himself towards the strings still on the floor in the circle.

Meanwhile, as Humbert turned his attention to Cahair, Renata is freed, and upon hearing Cahair’s pained shout, rushes towards the pieces of glass on the chair in the ritual circle, thinking that Uuva is in pain.

This confusion causes a bit of a body swapping situation. Alf ends up in Renata’s body, Renata in Alf’s and whatever possessed Alf goes into Alf the doll, and disappears.

Now face to face with Maeve-in-Cahair Randy notices that there is black liquid dripping from the eye socket where the blighted eye was removed. It seems that something Maeve did caused the blight to re-surface.

Not wanting to get too close, Randy goes for the flesh in between toes.

Maeve offers a deal for Randy, that perhaps if she could have another body (she doesn’t want this one anymore), she would leave everyone here in peace. 

Randy does not accept these terms.

Cahair (doll) crawls to Humbert’s hand, touches him, and begs for him to wake up, which doesn’t work. Humbert cuts off Cahair’s head and brings the pieces to Randy (doll) to show, saying that he’ll be next.

Alf (in Renata) attacks Maeve (in Cahair), pinning her to the ground and punching her. They wrestle until Randy (body) throws Alf off Maeve.

Randy stabs Humbert’s ankles, and that wakes him up.

Humbert goes and finishes off decapitating the mummy, which lets out a gurgling sound.

Unfortunately Maeve is still very much in Cahair. Alf takes the body and throws it into the circle, where Randy (doll) is, so that they change bodies.

Maeve (in Randy doll) makes up a hallucination of a forest and then takes the strings and tries to flee.

Humbert dispels the spell and he and Alf (in Renata) catch up with the doll. Humbert swipes at her and Alf pins her down onto the floor boards with Randy’s steak knife.

Thus ends the battle. Randy (in Cahair) tells that he wishes that his doll be spared as he’d like to keep it as a souvenir. Randy returns to his own body.

Alf goes to find Cahair, and finds his head. The torso, still in Cahair’s control, has crawled off somewhere. 

Humbert realizes that he was the one who cut up Cahair and asks Maeve if the dolls can be destroyed, which Maeve refuses to answer on the grounds of not wanting to give information leading to her destruction.

Alf does the string thing with the head and Cahair’s body, and Cahair wakes up, v much in pain.

Humbert questions if he really is Cahair, but Cahair manages to convince him.

Alf also locates Renata (in Alf), crying, scared in a corner, and gets her her body (that off a 8-year-old girl) back and also gets his own body back.

The question of Maeve’s fate is up in the air. Cahair and Alf don’t want to take her with, but Randy thinks this is useful information they are throwing away.

Maeve’s fate is decided when she answers positively on whether she knows anything about undoing demon possession. 

Randy takes the doll’s head and stuffs it in the magic-dampening box we received from Xenon. This would be Maeve’s home for now on.

While Randy, Alf and Humbert get going with getting everyone back in their bodies, Elspet and Boshara cart Cahair off to a side room to perform the same ritual they did in Orzammar.

It works, but now it is very much clear that it did not actually cure blight.

Cahair avoids people after that for the most part, though he does have a small conversation about Humbert on whether he was in the doll body as Humbert cut it apart (yes) and Randy apologizes for the damage done to his legs (that’s okay).

As soon as Kempers receives his body back, he tries to sneak out, but Humbert and Randy catch him.

Kempers admits to having a small writer’s block which Jelaina has been helping with by sharing our heroes’ adventures.

He also reveals having worked to the Orlesian Emperor before his death, not being a free agent.

It is decided that for now he will be taken with to the ship, and if he ever flees, it will be Jelaina who pays for it, as Kempers still claims friendship with her.

Our heroes loot the house, taking clothes, art, money, some magic items Maeve points out and lyrium. 

In fact, Randy and Boshara try out some lyrium with Humbert. It’s good stuff.

The strings of body switching are given to Cahair, since he won’t be traveling with our heroes for a while, so Maeve can’t get her hands, er, head? on them.

Cahair, Humbert and Randy talk with Renata. Cahair apologizes about play-acting Uuva and wishes to help the girl get back home.

The three manage to narrow Renata’s possible home location down to near-by villages so Cahair (as Renata seems to like him) will be trying to take her home as he takes Nesta home.

Renata also takes possession of the house cat.

Before we leave Randy hits on Aulis, one of the people in the house. Humbert is within ear shot, and expresses disbelief about the kinds of lines Randy uses to get himself a man (something about scratching bears?)

He declines the offer to join the two of them, and finds himself a lady from the rescued people, Leila, who seems to be happy to have herself a man for the night.

And that’s all folks! 

#nemo roleplays #da rp writeup #campaign tag: joss whedon's dollhouse #long post #queue to the submarine #95 #would be the number of sessions but there's few missing in between #i mean it still is but there's not that many writeups up there if that makes any sense #probably doesnt #anyway this was a good good campaign

[bellabooks]

“Wonder Woman” and the wonders of writing women

Wonder Woman, the latest in the DC Comics film franchise, will be released in theaters on June 2, 2017.  It’s noteworthy because the Wonder Woman character is the only female superhero featured in this line-up, soon to be followed by Aquaman and The Flash in 2018. These films, including Shazam, will continue the all-male tradition of superhero films. Bella authors, who regularly write about women, definitely have something to say about this iconic character. Renée J. Lukas, a Bella author and film fanatic, shares her perspective on this momentous step by Warner Bros., and why it’s so important to increase female visibility in film.   Why Did it Take So Long for Wonder Woman to be Brought to the Big Screen? Warner Bros. response: they found it difficult because they knew they had to “get it right.” You’re darn right they did. They had to make her soft enough to appeal to the traditional members of the audience, but badass enough to appeal to women like me who are still likely to rake them over the coals for her skimpy outfit. Heck, even if the movie is absolutely perfect, some critics, including myself, are still not likely to be happy about it. So is it any wonder a studio would fear Wonder Woman? But eventually, the public outcry about Wonder Woman’s omission from the Marvel superhero line-up became too deafening. And now, a gazillion years later, action has finally been taken.   What is the Problem with Wonder Woman? First, let’s be clear. It isn’t Wonder Woman’s fault. Her character has the same problem that the first LGBT character or black character or Hispanic character or Asian character, etc. has. When you’re the lone example of your group, (in this case—in a particular genre), standing on the horizon, everyone is going to assume you represent ALL of your group, which is never the case. And that’s a lot of pressure, even for a fictitious character.   We Haven’t Come a Long Enough Way, Baby The more pervasive problem: According to the acclaimed documentary MissRepresentation, only 16% of women are protagonists, or main characters, in U.S. movies. Women make up 51% of the U.S. population, yet are virtually non-existent in leading roles in big studio films. Yes, there are exceptions, but this is still the rule. And the numbers are worse when talking about the superhero genre. So in that context, the pressure is really on Wonder Woman’s shoulders, as a shining beacon of female superhero-ness. The solution? Fill the screens with more women, so they can be treated as diverse characters the way male characters are. What a revolutionary idea! Among male characters on the big screen, you have your heroes, your bad apples, your much older men who happen to still be alive after age forty, and you have your heroic but flawed guys. Guess what? I’ll let you in on a big secret. Come a little closer. . . women are like that, too! Who knew?   Hollywood’s Female Problem In the superhero/action genre, male writers seem to have a block when it comes to writing women. In other words, they can’t do it. The problem is they see a man at the center of the universe, and any woman who enters the plot is usually just a manifestation of male fantasy—the love interest. But a love interest isn’t a real person who yells back at the TV news, who steps in something sticky on a sidewalk. . .things mere mortals do. A love interest is on a pedestal, so her lines are very limited and reveal little about her as a person. The love interest’s dialogue is populated with things that assist the male character, lines like “Can I help? You seem tense.” Why does this matter? Statistically speaking, whenever you go to the movies, 9 times out of 10 you’re seeing a film directed by a man. Since film is the most powerful medium in shaping cultural attitudes, this translates to a male-dominated viewpoint that profoundly impacts our collective consciousness. Let that sink in a moment. Even in classics like Casablanca, they shot Ingrid Bergman with a high angle so the audience was literally looking down on her, while looking up at Humphrey Bogart with a low angle. Imagine that.  It’s so disturbing it’s worthy of a separate blog.   Bella Books and the Deep, Deep Secrets of Writing Women At Bella Books, we writers are used to writing women as people—flawed, magnificent, not-so-magnificent. . . and our readers find our characters to be colorful, often relatable and even frustrating at times. It’s ironic, though. Even as lesbians who do find women to be our “love interests,” we tend to treat women to a fully multi-dimensional existence in our stories. In my comedy, The Comfortable Shoe Diaries, there’s a woman plagued by anxiety disorders. In Hurricane Days, there are double-crossing women whose intentions (they both think) are equally honorable. But these women aren’t all good or all bad.  Like life, there’s plenty of gray area. It baffles me to see how Hollywood continues to stuff female characters in boxes. All you have to do is live a little, and you’ll meet so many wild, weird, wonderful women. Why is it so puzzling to write about them?   How a Trope Becomes a Trope So we’re left with female film tropes and very little deviation from them. Why does this happen? A trope becomes a trope when a writer copies what he sees in other works without drawing from his own experience. It’s lazy writing, to say the least. Either that, or the only women most male writers in Hollywood have ever met have been prostitutes, strippers or the always supportive housewives who are content to live their lives through the actions of their husbands—the ones who wait at the door with a fresh avocado and a neck rub. Personally, I’ve never met any of these women. Back to superheroes. As someone who likes character-driven stories, I’ll admit I’m not a big Avengers/Marvel franchises fan. I don’t enjoy watching stories where the women are placed as props for the men, which is so often the case. But it didn’t always seem this way. In the mid-‘70s Superman franchise, Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane had way more personality than the cardboard “love interest” we see so much of today. In fact, her character was infused with plenty of the drive you see in women trying to make a name for themselves in the big city. She was humorous and lovable, not just a silky voiced woman who slid on stockings at just the right camera angle. Unfortunately, women in many of today’s superhero films are on set merely as decorations with extra cleavage. Or, “Oh look, she can kick bad guys while wearing a skin tight suit!” The flip side: When a female superhero is included, meaning she has more than three lines, the idea is that she must be as tough and badass as possible in order to be considered equal to the male characters. Now I’ll admit Scarlett Johansson’s Black Widow can tie me up any day. But this thinking leaves you with heroes that must continuously be bigger and badassier than ever until there’s hardly a shred of humanity left in the character—or until they’re all more like stereotypical action guys. Is that true equality? It’s nothing but punching and kicking and more action than an energy drink commercial. It’s exhausting. Now I understand that fans of superhero action flicks aren’t going for depth of character. Your expectations for dialogue are more like “Hand me that rope!” with a focus on the death-defying situations that will be faced. I get that. I also get that we’ve had some films that dared to put a woman front and center in the action genre—a risky move indeed. (Not risky, but the studios seem to think it is.) Speaking of Scarlett Johansson, she’s enjoyed some success as the lead in the traditionally male sci-fi genre with incredible films like Lucy and Under the Skin.  Oh, and who can forget Sigourney Weaver carrying the Alien franchise. . . But for some reason, the superhero genre has eluded female characters for quite some time. I did believe they’d use every last male character in their line-up (Ant Man? Squid Guy? Sewage Rat. . .), anyone else, before attempting a female superhero. Now that it’s happening, we have to hope it won’t be a one-shot wonder.   Sometimes Being a Lesbian Complicates Things As a lesbian, I always feel conflicting emotions when I think of iconic women in movies. On the one hand, in my mind, no one but Lynda Carter will ever be fit to throw that golden lasso. And yes, she’s older now AND still sexy. If Jack Nicholson can play roles until he’s a hundred, Lynda Carter can still be Wonder Woman. Next, it would be great if Wonder Woman is hot, but not in a male titillation kind of way. Now hear me out. . . Since nearly everything in Hollywood is written, packaged and produced for the male gaze, I cringe at the thought of Wonder Woman being yet another prop for male fantasy. Of course this begs the question—what are the differences, even subtle, between lesbian and straight male fantasies? I’d argue there are differences in the way sexy women are depicted, but sometimes there’s probably overlap. For me, it boils down to the under-representation of women in front of and behind the camera, as mentioned earlier. So despite my overall wariness about superhero/action movies, I’ll be going to see Wonder Woman in theaters when it comes out, hopefully to break box office records, to send a message to studios that female characters CAN and SHOULD open a tentpole film, and that women in Hollywood should be paid what their male counterparts are paid. As of now, it’s a political act. And it will continue to be a political act until female characters are as diverse as males, and until it’s not such a big deal to have a female superhero headlining a film. Renée J. Lukas holds a B.A. in Motion Picture History, Theory & Criticism from Wright State University. She is the author of four books published by Bella Books, the latest one, In Her Eyes, due out this July. http://dlvr.it/PJSxX8

#Books #Movies #Renee Lukas